Crave (Billionaire Bachelors Club #1)(18)

Ivy Emerson is what’s wrong with you, jackass. She’s played you at your game and actually came out on top. Where does that leave you?

Miserable. Pissed. Eager to go back to her room and have my way with her again . . . slower this time. So I can linger over her body, see what she likes, where she prefers to be touched, taste her between her legs and see how long it takes to make her come with just my tongue . . .

Rubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes, I blink them open, stare at my reflection in the steam-covered mirror in front of me. I’m a wreck. Eyes wild, skin still wet from the shower, mouth and jaw so tight I look like I might shatter. Rigid and tense.

All over a woman.

I let loose a loud, growling “Fuck!” and hit the lights off, stride back into my room. Climb into bed naked and still damp, yanking the covers over my head in the hopes I can shut off my whirling brain.

Doesn’t work. I want her with me. Snug against me. I need to come clean with myself. I’ve lusted over her for years. Since her high school graduation, like some sort of pervert, considering I have a solid four years on her and the last thing I should’ve been doing was wondering if she could possibly be naked beneath her ceremony gown.

Of course, she wasn’t. She’d been eighteen and pure and beautiful. She’d given me a hug and thanked me for coming and all I could think about was how much I wish I was coming. Inside of her . . .

Yeah. I had it bad for her then. I still do. And I shouldn’t. I’m not the relationship type. My parents warped me for good. Ruined me for any woman. I might be able to hold my shit together for a while, but she’d wear me down eventually and discover the real me.

I’m not worth it, not worth making it last. I’m selfish. A complete prick. She’d find out quickly, if she doesn’t know already, and she’d bail. Wonder why she wasted her time on me, if she’d even consider me, that is.

And then there’s that stupid, f**ked-up bet I made only a few hours ago. A million dollars rides on the idea that I won’t let any woman trap me.

The crazy thing? I know Ivy Emerson is worth a million dollars.

But am I?

Chapter Six

Ivy

SOMEHOW, ARCHER ARRANGED for a fresh set of clothes to be waiting for me when I opened my bedroom door earlier. They sat in a neat, folded pile, tucked in a bag that was set in front of my door. A pair of black cotton cropped pants, a bright pink T-shirt, and a pair of my favorite brand of flip-flops. All in the proper sizes, all of it cute and something I would probably pick out on my own if given the chance.

How the hell did he know my sizes? Sorta scary.

I never heard anyone pass by the door either. And I would’ve. I tossed and turned, hardly getting any sleep, what with my thoughts consumed by what happened between Archer and me.

Images had flashed all night. The way he looked at me. How he touched me. The things he said to me.

I can’t f**king wait to be inside you.

God, I melt just remembering how dark his voice had sounded, the way he whispered those words close to my ear, his hands all over my body.

A shudder moves through me and I let loose a frustrated huff, then proceed to take a long shower in the hopes the hot water would wash away all of my useless and overwhelming feelings for a man I have no business feeling anything over.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Considering I’m in Archer’s house after being in his arms the night before, he permeates everything.

I both secretly love it and openly hate it.

I get dressed quickly, pulling my wet hair into a low ponytail with a band I found in the bottom of my purse. Slicked on some lip gloss because that’s all the makeup I brought with me.

No one’s called me, no Gage, no Archer. No one has even knocked on my door, and finally curiosity gets the better of me. I open the door and peek my head out, glancing left, then right, but the hall is empty. Gage’s door is closed. The house is quiet; it’s like I’m staying in a museum or something and I step fully out of the room, contemplating going to knock on Gage’s door.

What if he’s still sleeping? It’s already past nine and Gage isn’t one to sleep in. Deciding I need to know what’s up, I approach the door and knock, stumped when he doesn’t answer. No way can he still be in bed. And if he is, what a total bum.

“He’s outside, waiting for you.”

I jump and turn at the sound of Archer’s deep voice, surprised to find him standing in the middle of the vast hallway. Like a ghost, he magically appeared. And what a good-looking ghost he is too. He’s dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, his dark hair is still damp, as if he just came out of the shower and oh wow, he looks amazing. I’m filled with the urge to take him by the hand, drag him back into my bedroom, and strip him. Run my hands all over his delicious body. Ride him into oblivion.

Stop!

“Oh.” I can’t come up with anything better to say so I don’t. Ridiculous how I thought a little sex between two age-old friends—acquaintances, really—would be no big deal, but it’s like the giant elephant filling the entire house, sitting directly between us. I meet his gaze and all I can do is remember how close his face had been to mine a few hours ago as he thrust deep inside my body. How I craned my neck and met his mouth with mine, our tongues sliding against each other’s.

Yeah. This is . . . awkward.

“We’re leaving for Hush soon. Are you ready?” His velvety smooth voice sends shivers running over my skin, and I press my lips together, searching for composure.