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Chapter Nine
Jayden
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IWAS OBSESSED.
I literally couldn’t get enough of Ivy Gilligan. When I wasn’t with her, I thought about her constantly, and when I was with her, I ached, knowing she would have to leave again.
Days turned to weeks, and we took every opportunity we could to sneak around. It was impossible for me to see her at her house—she lived with people who worked for her father—so she came to me at the hotel. The men who worked for me knew to keep their mouths shut, but I still did my best to ensure none of them found out about Ivy’s almost constant presence in my bed.
The only one who knew exactly who Ivy was and how often she was with me was the hotel concierge, Fredrick Gadd, but I slipped him some extra money and made sure he understood how important it was for him not to mention her to anyone.
I worried more for Ivy than I did myself, but that didn’t stop me keeping things quiet from my family—and from the Cornells as well. There was nothing they could say or do that would make me stop seeing her, but I didn’t want the hassle. There was also the possibility they would threaten to tell Ivy’s family about us, and I didn’t want to take that risk either. Ivy confirmed for me that her father and brothers were not always good people—something that wasn’t surprising, considering the business they were in. I didn’t want either of us to deal with the repercussions.
I’d given Ivy a key she could use in the hotel that allowed the lift to go all the way up to the penthouse. My family would think I had lost my mind if they knew I had given a Gilligan the key to my home, but they didn’t know Ivy. Over the past few weeks, I’d discovered she was the person I trusted most in my life—not including my sister. Ivy was sweet and honest and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was funny and kind, and I literally trusted her with my life. Though she had a key, she didn’t use it without running it by me first. She’d never wanted to arrive here, only to discover I wasn’t alone, and I wouldn’t want her putting herself in any dangerous situations. But it was handy for the times she needed to come over instead of going home, where her family would keep track of her, and I wasn’t in.
The lift door slid open, and she stepped out, her blonde curls damp with rain, her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. Though the first night we’d met properly, she’d been in heels and a tiny dress, I’d discovered she was far more comfortable in a pair of Nikes, sweatpants or jeans, and a tight-fitting crop top–that seemed to be her outfit of choice. It looked good on her, showing off her curves and tiny waist.
She smiled that smile I’d come to adore.
“Hey, baby,” I greeted her.
I caught her around the waist and pulled her in against me and kissed her mouth.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, kissing me back.
It wasn’t just the sex I loved—though I did love it—it was the time we spent doing normal things. We sat for hours on the sofa together, watching the films she loved and sharing snacks. We cooked together, ordering in those meal company options where they sent all the ingredients and instructions, so we didn’t need to be worried about someone spotting us in a supermarket. We took long baths, with her between my legs, the back of her head resting on my chest; I loved that position. The water made her breasts weightless, so they bobbed on the surface. I couldn’t keep my hands off her, using any excuse to soap her down, when in fact, all I wanted was to touch her tits as much as possible. My erection always gave me away, however, and more often than not we ended up fucking, with her on all fours, and the bathwater slopping over the sides.
Neither of us cared. Nothing else mattered when we were together.
The only topic we tried to avoid was anything about our futures. How could we discuss such a thing when it was practically impossible for us to have one? I had my business to run, and she didn’t want her family to know about us.
We had no future.
I’d told myself this would burn itself out, but instead the opposite had happened. The more time I spent with her, the more time Iwantedto spend with her. Any moment of the day where I wasn’t in her company felt like a waste, and I was bad-tempered—even more than usual—and frustrated. I thought people would start to notice, but it turned out I’d been this way since my father had died, so no one said anything.
“What have you been up to today?” she asked, “or don’t I want to know?”
I had to admit that the fire in my belly for conquering the city had been somewhat put out since she’d come into my life. All my energy was going on her now. But even so, I still wouldn’t tell her about any of the business deals I’d put together recently. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her—I did—but I wouldn’t ever put her in a position that would make things difficult for her at home. I did feel guilty that one of our deals was around encroaching on Gilligan territory, but it was just business, and I hoped she’d understand that.
“I bought you a present.”
Her eyes lit up, and I experienced another twinge of guilt that I hadn’t bought her jewellery or another pair of the expensive shoes she liked. This was going to be so much more fun, though.
“Close your eyes.”
Ivy did as instructed, closing her eyes and putting out both hands. I stared at her. She looked so sweet and innocent, but that was going to change.
I placed a shoe-box-sized parcel into her hands. “Open it.”
She glanced down at the present, clearly surprised at the size, too. But she smiled and tore off the paper.
