Page 48 of Redeem Me

‘I’m thirty-four, not eighty-four!’ I thrum my fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Didn’t anyone ever teach you to respect your elders? Any more of your cheek and I’ll pull over, bend you over the bonnet of this car and slap your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a week,’ I growl.

‘Is that a promise?’ she sings in a sultry tone, ‘because I quite like it rough.’

My cock thickens further in my pants. ‘I’ve a good mind to call your brother and tell him what a bad girl you are.’

‘And I’ll tell him exactly how you found out,’ she chirps gleefully. ‘Lighten up, let’s have some fun. I just want to feel your cock inside me. It’ll be our little secret.’

‘There’s nothing little about it.’

‘Your cock or the secret?’ she chuckles.

I shake my head. ‘Your filthy mouth wasn’t listed on your résumé,’ I grunt, glancing across at her again. Like a fucking magnet, she keeps drawing me in.

‘Neither was my ability to suck dick, but I’m pretty good at that, too.’ Her blue eyes glint with mischief and I almost choke on my own saliva. ‘I’m surprised you even looked at my résumé by the way.’

I didn’t look at it until after she moved in, then I pored over it, memorising every detail. And not because I was concerned for my kids; the agency’s background checks are rigorous. I scoured it, desperate to learn everything about the woman I’m obsessed with.

‘Did you speak to your previous bosses the same way you speak to me?’

‘My previous boss was a creep. If I spoke to him the way I spoke to you, he’d have dropped his trousers already, which is more than I can say for you…’

‘Ivy…’ My tone is weighted with warning and now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

‘Okay, okay!’ She brandishes upturned palms in the air. ‘I’ve never spoken to any man the way I speak to you.’ She crosses one lean leg over the other and my gaze is drawn to six inches of exposed thigh. ‘What can I say? You bring out the best in me.’

‘Or the worst,’ I sigh, shaking my head. Dermot would murder me if he had any idea what I’m contemplating doing to his little sister – what I’ve already done to his little sister.

‘Don’t let me be another thing to beat yourself up about, Tortured,’ she pats my knee. ‘I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.’

‘That makes one of us then,’ I mutter.

She flicks her hair from her shoulder. ‘I want your body, not a marriage proposal.’

‘The kids adore you. I don’t want to fuck that up. And Dermot will fuck me up if he so much as suspects I’m sniffing around his little sister.’ Everyone knows the bro code. Although, the temptation of doing something forbidden only makes it so much more, well, tempting. Ivy was wrong. Iama bad man.

‘It’s just sex. Well, it would be, if you’d get over yourself,’ Ivy teases.

‘You are determined to drag me straight to Hell.’ Though, realistically, I resigned myself to it a long time ago.

‘I have needs. Besides, we established the first night we met what type ofwomanI am.’ She slaps my thigh playfully and I snatch her hand up and bring it to my lips.

‘You’re like no type I ever met before, which is why I will at least try to, how did you put it, “get over myself?”’

‘What is the problem? Do you have some daddy-dom kink where you prefer giving pleasure to taking it? Are you afraid of losing control? Or is it something else entirely?’ Her stare burns the side of my face. I keep my attention focussed on the road.

‘Do we have to dissect my sexual preferences? Why do you try to drag every quirk or kink into the conversation like you’re asking which flavour of ice cream I prefer? I like making you come. What’s wrong with that?’

‘I want to makeyoucome.’ She pouts.

‘You already have, more times than you’ll know, in my shower.’

‘Youhavehad sex with someone other than Isabella?’ Ivy frowns. It’s not a question technically, but the way she accentuates the wordhave, makes it one.

‘Yes, plenty, but not someone I actually liked.’ God, it’s like this woman is wielding a hundred-megawatt torch into my darkest corners and dragging my deepest truths into the light.

Her grin is so wide, her teeth blind me. ‘You like me,’ she squeals.

‘Fuck’s sake, Ivy, we’re not a couple of high schoolers,’ I tut. ‘If barging in on your date with my brother and claiming you as mine doesn’t scream “I like you,” then nothing does.’

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