She shakes her head, staying quiet as her jaw quivers under my fingers.
My fingers tighten on her chin, not letting her do this. “What do you need from me?”
A tear escapes one of her eyes and trails slowly down her face. I capture it with my thumb, watching as more follow suit. “To fix me. To let me have even the slightest control no matter how bad you think you know better.”
I let out a strangled breath, knowing it’s not that easy. “Baby, I don’t know how to do that.” She tries looking away, but I won’t let her break eye contact as she lets it out. “But I’ll try the best I can.”
She attempts to move from my grasp, but I refuse to let her block me from experiencing this together.
She’s human.
And she hates it.
“I’ll help you feel better,” I vow, sliding my hands down her sides as I lower to my knees in front of her. Her shaky breath releases sharply as I find the waistband of her leggings and steadily pull them down, revealing a scrap of white lace underneath.
“Aiden—”
“Shh.”
Pulling the material away from her center, I lean forward and press a kiss against her bare skin, skimming the seam of her lips.
A noise rises from her throat as her hands find my head, fingertips digging into my scalp as I part her and brush another kiss closer to where both of us want to be.
This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone down on a girl, but it’ll be the first time it matters. It won’t be a show that some random jersey chaser puts on to make me feel good about what I’m doing, but something for the woman towering over me to remember after it’s done. I’ve never liked fake people like the chicks I messed with before, and the tears still dampening Chaos’s face as I trace my tongue along her folds tells me this is as real as she can get.
Caressing the smooth skin between her thighs, I murmur, “You shave.”
Her voice wavers when she croaks, “I-I wax. I don’t…” There’s a brief pause, a sharp breath with every stroke of my lips and tongue against her clit. “I don’t always trust myself with a r-razor.”
Rewarding the honesty the best way I can, I flatten my tongue against her clit and stroke the seam of her to gather the arousal quickly building with one of my fingers. The tip of my finger grazes her wet opening before moving back upward to the bundle of nerves my tongue is working. She moans out my name and digs her fingertips into my scalp harder until there’s a bite of pain, but I don’t stop sucking her as I work my finger inside.
Her hips arch forward, her legs shaking slightly, until I grab ahold of one of her thighs to steady her. She begins moving to the pace I set, rolling her pelvis forward until my face is full of her soaked pussy.
The rapid pants of mumbled words is the only thing I hear as I lap her with my tongue and coax her body into giving her the release it needs—of clearing her head of the thoughts and her chest of feelings it doesn’t need to hold onto.
The determination to give her that freedom has my mouth and fingers working her faster and harder until she throws a leg over my shoulder to open herself up to me more and ride the wave that takes over.
I pull back enough to grab ahold of her and walk us backwards to the couch, laying on my back. She falls with me, her eyes glazed over as I gesture for her to come closer, until she repositions over my face. My palms grip her inner thighs, fingers wrapping around what I can of her legs that straddle my face as I lift up and continue giving her everything I can.
Her hands keep my face pressed against her as she comes silently riding me, the fingers I move to get her off quicker being clenched as they milk her orgasm. I take everything she gives me, tasting her, memorizing her, until her body stills completely.
Pulling out my fingers, I kiss her one last time before putting her panties back in place and watching her slide off me.
When I stand, I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand and help pull her leggings back up, taking the flush of her cheeks as a victory.
We stare at each for a moment, her breath steadily going back to normal as a palm slides down the front of me. I stop her as she hovers over the obvious erection in my jeans. “Only you.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, fingers squeezing me once before letting go. I’m about to say something when she reveals, “I messaged Porter today.” Her sudden exclamation leaves me silent, causing her to shift from one foot to another, her flushed face turning pink. “I need to know he’s okay.”
My mouth opens to reply when she cuts me off. “He plays football at the high school.”
This time, I nod. “I know. Mom and Dad sometimes bring him up when I’m home. He’s good from what I hear. Quarterback of the team.”
Her head bobs once, lost in the confirmation.
“He’s doing fine,” I tell her. I’m not sure that’s what she wants to hear though. “But it’s okay if you don’t want that.”
Her eyes snap to mine, narrowed and ready to lash. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve always wanted the best for my little brother. I—” She stops herself, averting her eyes.
“I know you have. I know that better than anybody, don’t you think?” I take her hand and squeeze it. “But sometimes that grates on people. You can’t always be the punching bag so others miss the hits, and that’s what you were.”
Ivy has nothing to say to that.
I decide to prod. “Do you want a relationship with him?”
“Like I said, I want to know he’s okay. I need to know because…”
I wait for her to finish, the seconds ticking by and her mouth parting and closing with no words escaping the fullness of them. “Chaos?”
Her eyelids pinch together as she withdraws her hand. “Please stop calling me that.” The pain in her tone makes me study her even closer, her eye twitching and lips weighing heavily at the corners. “I need to know he’s okay because I’m not, and one of us should be.”
When her voice cracks, I swallow back the urge to clock everyone in their fucking faces who made her feel that one.
Ivy is a living, breathing oxymoron.
Chaotic and selfless.
She puts her guard back up and looks at the door leading outside, her next move obvious as she takes a step away from me.
I do nothing to stop her with every inch she puts between us. “I’m not Chaos,” is all she leaves me with, her face and tone void of any shred of emotion.
When she leaves, I don’t follow no matter how bad I want to. I give her the control she pleaded for and wait until the door closes behind her before sitting down on the couch.
I think about Chet Wilkins and drop my face into my hands with a heavy sigh. “What the fuck am I doing?”
Chapter Nineteen
Ivy
It’s been over a week of avoiding Aiden at the house, and he’s made it too easy. Every night I fall asleep on the couch hoping he’ll get the hint, and every morning I wake up in his bed. The difference is that he’s never with me—his body heat void from the sheets, leaving me with cold cotton when I open my eyes and turn to his empty side of the mattress.
When I creep out of his bedroom this morning, I find his body draped uncomfortably across the cushions of the small couch. I’m halfway out of the room when I double back with a drop of my head to cover him with a blanket. He doesn’t have anywhere to be on Sundays unlike me, so he should sleep in as long as he can.