Page 124 of Clint & Ivy
Our sweaty bodies continued to move together, soaking in every last bit of pleasure until we were spent.
“I thought you might be angry about today,” Clint said once we were resting on our sides. “I realized on the ride back how I never asked you what you wanted. I just made the decision.”
“It was the middle of the night, and you wanted to keep me safe.”
“I still should have asked.”
“Yes, you should have,” I murmured while kissing his chest. “But I was too tired to know the right answer, so we would have ended up doing what you wanted anyway.”
Clint pressed his lips against my head and seemed worried.
Stroking his jaw, I asked, “If things are dangerous right now, should we risk leaving town to see Boone?”
“I honestly don’t know how dangerous things are in Little Memphis. I’m not sure who orchestrated what happened today. A part of me thinks I’m being played by a fake ally. But then again, the situation might be simple, and I’m looking for conspiracies.”
“Shay said I shouldn’t ask for details about your club work. She claimed you needed a safe space to go when the job was too much.”
“She’s right. I also want to protect you. I need you to believe in this life we’re building. If I dump all the ugly parts of my job on you, I’m not sure you can stay as confident as you’ve become.”
“Well, I don’t want you to lie, but I also understand how you can’t always tell me the truth. Does that make sense?”
Nodding, Clint kissed my head again. “I need to talk to Rock soon. Afterward, I don’t want to worry about today’s shit. We can order dinner, stream something fun, and be together.”
Clint’s tone made me think he was asking permission to visit Rock. Though controlling me would be so easy for him, he genuinely wanted us to be equals.
CLINT
As the sun droppedlower in the sky, I entered Rock’s condo with its funky vibe. The tiki-style kitchen was decorated with masks and a colorful orange-and-turquoise backsplash. He had a totem pole leaning in a corner. His tastes skewed toward his Hawaiian roots. I once asked him what he would do if he fell for a woman who didn’t like all those creepy masks.
“Why would I fall for a woman with bad taste?” he asked as if I were a dipshit.
Today, I arrived to find a grumpy Rock finishing his dinner. He only knew how to cook a few things. One of them was called Huli Huli Chicken. He brought it to the club’s last potluck. The foxes were very impressed. A few of them even flirted as if he might be marriage material. Then, Rock began bitching about something, and they remembered how he was “too high-maintenance” for romance.
“Can I get a little of that to take back to Ivy?” I asked, gesturing at the stove.
“No. Your woman hasn’t earned leftovers,” he muttered and dropped onto his couch. “Ask again when she’s been here for a month.”
