Page 15 of Saving Ian Pope

I raised my eyebrows. Should I...? He answered my silent question by unrolling the condom onto his dick and sweeping the rest of the packets off the bed.

I closed my eyes when he entered me, filling me up inch by delicious inch. When he stopped, I sucked in a breath.

“Open your eyes, Tinkerbell.”

I obeyed—of course, I did. I’d do just about anything for him at this point. When I peeled open my eyelids, I met his brown eyes, burning into me. Holding my gaze, he slid out and then plunged back inside me.

Curling my legs around his slim hips, I didn’t ever want to let him go. I kissed his neck and his jaw as I ran my nails up and down his back, his muscles hard and tense.

He whispered in my ear, “Baby, you feel so good. So good. I love fucking you.”

And then his words turned to gibberish while his pumping picked up in speed and intensity. When I shifted position, he rubbed against my clit, and all the unreleased tension in my body collected in that one, little hot spot. I clenched my muscles, clenched him inside me, until a warm rush that started at my toes flooded my body. I went limp beneath him, my legs falling to the sides, as my orgasm spiraled through me.

His body seemed to go still, and then he emitted a low moan from his throat as he came hard. When he finished thrusting into me, a shiver ran through his frame, and he lowered himself on top of me. He traced my throbbing lips with the tip of his finger and followed it with a kiss.

I rubbed circles on his back, damp with sweat and inhaled the scent of us together, sweet and spicy, our bodies mingling.

He braced his forehead against mine. “I have no words. That was mighty.”

“Mighty what?” I pushed his hair back from his face. “Mighty is an adjective not a noun. It has to describe another word.”

“Bloody hell. Is this what it’s always going to be like with a writer?” He shifted off my body. “I’ll just leave it at mighty, and I’ll be right back.”

He rolled off the bed and headed toward the bathroom connected to my room, presumably to dispose of the condom. At least he hadn’t balked at that.

I chewed on my bottom lip. His question had implied that there would be other occasions between us where I’d need to correct his grammar, instead of accepting that this was the very definition of a one-night stand. He was going back to England, an ocean away.

I’d never fallen for anyone this hard and fast, or ever, but my inner therapist told me that’s exactlywhyI’d fallen for Ian so hard and fast. The word transient in the dictionary had Ian Pope’s face all over it.

And that’s just the way I’d wanted it...until now.

Chapter 6

IVY

Tears pricked my eyes, and I dragged the back of my hand across my nose. I scolded myself and my phantom therapist. Of course, he was going back to England. I knew that. I knew the overwhelming sexual tension between the two of us could only have one result. Well, two, actually. I could’ve said goodnight at the curb and spent an evening with my purple pussy pleaser stashed in my nightstand. Or have one night of wild sex and relive it in my mind once in a while and re-write it in my books over and over.

He came back into the room, his hair damp and sluiced back from his face, the ends curling. He launched himself onto the bed next to me, making the mattress bounce. Then he lay on his back beside me, curling one arm behind his head, the fingers of his other hand idly toying with mine. “Believe it or not, it’s been a long time since I had sex, especially sex like that.”

“Like what? Mighty?” I draped one leg over his, still needing to soak in his closeness.

“Yeah, like just feeling everything, every sense alive and present. Fully engaging. Haven’t had that in so long.”

“Me either...” I turned my head and touched the tip of my tongue to his shoulder, which tasted salty and musky “...despite the long trail of condoms in my nightstand. I’m actually hoping they aren’t expired. It’s been that long.”

He threaded his fingers through mine and kissed the back of my hand. “I’m glad you did have them, else I would’ve packed off to the corner market and bought some, worrying all the way that you’d change your mind.”

“I think my mind was made up the minute you rescued me from Fabio.”

“I think I rescued Fabio from you, and you didn’t know who I was until I told you my name.”

“That’s right.”

“So, you wanted to ravage me before you knew I was Ian Pope?”

“That’s right.”

The glint in his eye at my answer made me feel a little sad for him. I traced the tattoo on his hipbone, a mermaid, tail up, her head dangerously close to the hair covering his pubic area. “So, you’ve ensured that you always have a mermaid going down on you.”

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