Page 79 of Clint & Ivy
CLINT
Iwas finished withmy shower by the time Farley brought Hanzee up from the courtyard. Ivy appeared soon after. When she saw Hanzee dancing around and shivering from the cold, she dropped to the ground and warmed him up. My dog instantly climbed into her lap to find comfort from his new favorite person.
“I bought him a snappy jacket,” I told her as I stroked his head. “He looked cool in it. Like the head of a Chihuahua biker club, but he refuses to put it on most days. I can’t believe how vain my dog is.”
Ivy smiled up at me, and my heart hurt.Losing this woman would ruin me.
That was why I decided to keep quiet about Ivy’s uncle and Lula’s trip to Reno. We could face that conversation tomorrow morning. Right now, Ivy needed to turn off her brain for the night.
Rather than talk, I tugged off my shirt. Ivy’s eyes widened in that lovestruck way she got when her instincts took control of her busy brain.
“I have a scar right around my shoulder blade,” I said and turned around. “I was literally stabbed in the back by the junkie girlfriend of a dealer I was threatening. Fortunately, she missed everything important.”
Ivy stood up and ran her fingers along my back until she found the scar hidden under my black-and-gray tattoos. Her gentle touch made me shiver.
“What happened to the junkie girlfriend?”
“I don’t know. The last thing I saw was Elle and Vanessa beating the crap out of her while Sabrina and Rowdy finished off the dealer.”
Ivy pressed her soft lips against the scar. I turned around to see her up on her tippytoes to reach the spot. Ivy stepped back, seeming small and delicate.
“I feel better about you living a dangerous life when I picture your family watching your back.”
My hands instantly moved to her jaw, bringing her lips upward so I could kiss them. Ivy gripped my wrists and met my heat with her own.
Once my lips were free, I warned, “I’m about to drop my pants and show you the scars on my leg. I should warn you about my very impressive thighs.”
Ivy startled us both by snorting. We laughed at her reaction. Ivy was so much more relaxed today, yet I felt her thinking about when she would show me her scars. Mine were battle wounds from being a sexy badass. Hers were reminders of her tenuous beginning and potential limits.
I lowered my black sweatpants to show off the knife wound on my thigh.
“Who did this?”
“Another chick. I’m not so different from Farley. I tend to give women too much slack. I don’t want to think the worst of them like I would a man. I’ve bled twice, on account of such stupid logic.”
“I wish I could beat up those women.”
“You know kickboxing,” I said, turning around and looking over her slight build. “I wouldn’t mind watching you beat on someone.”
“I’ve never fought a real person. I only used the punching bag in my uncles’ gym. Even then, I doubted I kicked hard enough to hurt someone.”
“You’d be surprised how quickly most people back down once you apply even a little pain. Fighting seems easier in our heads. Once the first impact happens, many people realize they have no taste for battle.”
“That would be me.”
“Maybe, but you might get in a few solid licks before your opponent gives up.”
Though Ivy nodded, her expression had shifted into a pout. “Now, I’m supposed to show my scars.”
“That’s the deal. I mean, I took off my pants for you.”
Ivy offered a little smile. “I bet I could get you to do that without any scar reveals.”
“True, but I want to see. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us,” I said, despite hiding her uncle’s troublemaking. “I also think you’ll be less self-conscious once I’ve kissed all over your scars.”
“But the main one is between my breasts,” she said, wearing the pinched frown of a virgin afraid of getting raunchy.
“I can control myself,” I insisted and then tugged up my sweatpants. Walking up the stairs, I headed to my bedroom. “I want to know you at least a week before we sleep together in the biblical sense.”
