It was a deeper connection. Like we’d found one another after all these years, and everything just clicked together.
We found our rhythm. My hand moving between us, knowing just what she needed. Even all these years later, I knew what Ivy needed.
Our breaths filled the air around us. Moans and groans and desire engulfing my every thought.
Lost in the moment.
Lost in this girl.
Her hips meeting my every thrust.
She arched her back and her head fell back. Her gaze leaving mine for just a minute as she cried out my name, rocking against me as she rode out her pleasure. I couldn’t get enough. I thrusted once.
Twice.
And I went right over the edge with her.
And nothing had ever felt better.
I fell forward, pressing my arms on each side of her as not to crush her. I dropped down beside her, pulling her along with me, as we both tried to catch our breath.
I pushed the hair out of her face and stroked her cheek. “You okay?”
I braced myself, as I prepared for regret to hit her now that it had happened. But instead, she smiled. “I feel great. But I’m starving. How about you?”
I barked out a laugh. “I’m starving too.”
“Let’s make breakfast for dinner. Although it’s nearly four in the morning now, so I guess it could just be breakfast.”
I slowly pulled out of her and missed the connection the minute I did so. “That sounds perfect.”
I moved to the bathroom, and she followed me in there, slipping on a robe. I dropped the condom in the trash and moved back to the bedroom and pulled on my boxer briefs and we made our way to the kitchen.
Ivy’s house was charming just like her. She had fresh flowers on her little farmhouse table in her kitchen. The cabinets were blue with white countertops. She pulled out eggs and bacon and handed me the pancake mix.
“You do the pancakes, I’ll do the eggs and bacon,” she said.
I moved toward the counter and reached for the bowl she set out. “I don’t get in a lot of cooking these days.”
“So, how often are you on the road?” she asked as she set a cover over the pan of bacon and the sizzling sound reminded me of being younger. I hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in a while. Room service was now my idea of a home-cooked meal.
“Well, I’m trying to cut that back. My manager is a bit of a jackass, and he doesn’t listen well. I was touring about three hundred days out of the year. I don’t need to do that anymore. I want to cut it down to just a few tours a year and then get my ass in the studio more consistently. I like making music. The performing takes a toll.”
She nodded as she watched me fill the bowl with a little powder and water and stare down at it like I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do.
Because I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do.
Ivy pulled out a fork and placed it in my hand before covering my hand with hers and stirring. She continued our conversation as if it were totally normal that I’d never made fucking pancakes.
“Well, you’re the boss, right? If that’s what you want, just make it happen.”
She obviously felt like I had a grip on my task because she stepped away to flip the bacon and crack a few eggs in the pan. She heated up another skillet, grabbed a ladle before reaching for the bowl and dropping several pancakes onto the pan.
“It’s not that simple.” I ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the counter. I’d never made breakfast with a woman before. It felt intimate in a way and completely natural to be standing in the kitchen with Ivy in my boxers. “A lot of people count on me. I’m responsible for their paychecks.”
“You’re also responsible for your own happiness, Ty. And after talking today, it sounds like you’ve been taking care of everyone but yourself for a long time. That doesn’t sound right either.” She used a spatula and flipped the pancakes before doing the same to the eggs.
I nodded. “Yeah. I have a show in a month that I’ve already committed to, and then I’d like to take a break from the road. Just spend my days in the studio, doing what I love.”
“I guess it’s time I listen to your music, huh?” she asked as she leaned against the counter beside me.
“Have you really never listened to one of my songs?” I turned to face her and slipped my hand inside her robe, cupping her breast and grazing her nipple with my thumb because I couldn’t help myself. Her wild mane of hair ran down her back and she gasped at the contact.
She shook her head. “I knew it would hurt me to hear your music. But now that I understand why you left me a little better, I’m looking forward to it.”
The popping and crackling from the bacon made Ivy jump and she pulled away and adjusted her robe.
“Let me grab some plates,” I said, and she pointed to the cabinet above where I stood. I handed them to her and reached for two paper towels before finding the silverware drawer on the first try. Ivy plated our food, and I grabbed us each a glass of water.
I groaned when I took the first bite of bacon drizzled in syrup. She laughed. “You don’t get a lot of home-cooked meals, do you?”
“Nope. I’m definitely not complaining about this one.”
“Does it get lonely being on the road?”
“Yes and no. The crew becomes family. You just sort of find your new normal. When I first started, I was surviving, you know? It was all about making money to keep my mom and my sister above water. But now, it’s all I know.” I shrugged.
She nodded. “So, do you think your manager will respect your wishes?”
“I doubt it. I’ll have to push over and over again. His strengths are also his weaknesses. He has a one-track mind, and it’s making money. But he was there for me when I needed him, and I’m thankful for that.”
“What do your bandmates say?”
“They wouldn’t mind just being in the studio either. We’re all exhausted. Zack, Smith, and Jo are all talented. They want to slow down too, and Smith has a kid now. So they’re definitely down to spend more time in the studio and put out good music. It’s just Zane who keeps giving me shit because the tours bring in a shit ton of money.”
“I take it he makes a percentage of what you make?”
I nodded with a smile on my face because she looked so serious. “He does.”
“Sounds like he’s looking out for number one. You need to do the same.”
“You always were smarter than me,” I teased.
“Don’t make a joke of this, Ty. Life is short. You deserve to be happy too.”