Mr. Romantic: A Mister Standalone (The Mister Series Book 2) (30 page)

“So,” Ivy says, then stops because the servers come with our food. We wait, nod and say thank you. But I can tell Ivy has something to say about what I just told her.

“Finish your thought,” I say, ignoring the food. “If you’ve got something to say about it, now is the time.”

She pouts her lips a little bit and it’s makes me want to lean over this table and bite them. Right here, in front of the whole restaurant. “So it’s all your fault. It was your drawing. That’s what got you all arrested.”

“Yup,” I say. “It was all my fault.”

“At least it looks that way. We can’t know. Not really. Not unless we get everyone’s story.
”

“I like the way you say
we
in that sentence, Miss Rockwell.”

She blushes, then smiles. “Well, I guess I’m invested in you at this point. I’m taking a risk, Mr. Delaney. I’m trusting you tonight.”

“And I appreciate that. I do.”

“Are you looking forward to it? What we’ll do tonight.”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I laugh. “Seriously? You’re beautiful, smart, and even though you have less than one week of sexual experience, you’re wild, Ivy. I can tell. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling a little possessive of you at this point. I got you first and I’d like to think you’re mine because of it.”

“Yours?” She squints her eyes at me.

“Mine.”

“Hmm.” And then she notices the food on the table. Sea bass with toasted barley. “This looks delicious.”

“You look delicious,” I say. “If I didn’t think you’d need your strength tonight I’d make us skip dinner. But you will.”

This makes her take a deep breath. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“No.” And I smile when I say it. “It’s not fun if you know what’s coming.”

She takes a bit of her food and then sips some wine. Clearly she has something more to say about that comment, but she’s not sure how to say it. “You want me to feel afraid.” It’s not a question.

“No, not exactly. I want to feel you struggle and I want it to be as real as we can possibly make it. Because what I really want is that moment when you give in.” Fuck. I’m getting hard just thinking about it. “When you realize you want me. When you realize that it feels good. When you realize,” I say, lowering my voice and leaning closer to her, “that you’re going to come and you don’t want to. You don’t want to admit that you like it, but you can’t stop it from happening. No matter what I do to you tonight, you’re going to love it. You’re going to feel good. And you’re going to wish it would never end.”

“I think you have a lot of confidence for a man who knows almost nothing about me. I could stay stop instead.”

I lean back in my chair and nod. “You could. But I don’t think you will.”

“Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t turned on by the thought of my fantasy, Ivy. Because my fantasy is now
your
fantasy. I’m sure you have never thought about a fantasy like this before I made my offer. But I’m equally sure that you can’t stop thinking about it now.”

“I might still say stop, Nolan.”

“Understood.”

She picks at her food for a few minutes, silent, just enjoying the taste and the atmosphere. I force myself to eat as well, but only because I know I’ll need it just as much as she will. And when the server comes asking about dessert, we both smile and stare at each other across the table.

Because she’s in.

Deep.

“We’ve already got plans for dessert,” I say. “The check is fine.”

“You never said where we were going,” Ivy says once we on the highway heading south.

“No, I never did.”

“Is… is the fantasy starting now?” She sounds nervous.

“Have you said no to my advances yet?” I ask, taking my eyes off the road for a second before returning them to the lines of the highway.

“No.”

“Then it hasn’t started. This is still the date, Ivy. So relax. Enjoy it. Do you like my car?”

“Um.” Ivy takes a look around her, like she’s just now noticing things. “You have a thing for fast cars.”

“I do. I like this one. It’s a rental, but I have one just like it in San Diego.”

“You have a lot of money, I take it. And by a lot, I mean, God money.”

I almost laugh. “Yeah. You’re just figuring that out?”

“I don’t know. I saw the house and the resort. But you have a lot more than most. I don’t think about money much. Beyond needing it for things. And I really did want that job.” She grabs her little envelope purse that I sent her with the dress and shoes, and pulls out her iPad. “I have a presentation—”

My laugh stops her cold.

“What?”

“You came here tonight, knowing what we’re going to be doing, with a
presentation
?”

“I have graphs, Nolan. I have good ideas. And solid projections.”

I place my hand over hers to stop her from opening the cover of the iPad. “Put it away.”

“But I want you to know what my ideas are.”

I can tell by the tone in her voice it’s true, so I make my voice soft. “You’ll still have time to impress me afterward.”

“No,” she says quickly. “You said once we fucked then there’s no possibility of me being hired by you.”

“Well, nothing is set in stone.”

“Except the word stop,” she says in a small voice.

“That goes without saying.”

“I’m just making sure.”

“Do you want to stop before we start? You can, you know. I’ll take you home.”

“I just want to know where we’re going.”

“You’re going to see right now. So be patient.”

“We’re at the airport?” Her voice actually quivers. “Why are we at the airport?”

“Why do people usually go to an airport?”

“You’re taking me somewhere?”

“I thought that was understood?”

“But… but you never said anything about getting on a plane for this.”

I just smile.

“Nolan?”

“Ivy.” I turn onto the access road and follow it around to the helipad. “Relax. We’re going to Martha’s Vineyard. I’m taking you on my helicopter.”

“You have a helicopter? Here? How the hell do you have that here when you live two thousand miles away?”

My phone buzzes in my pants and I reach in and check the screen, then tab accept. “Talk to me.”

“I’m here,” Mysterious says. “Where are you?”

“Can this wait until…” I check the dash clock and calculate how much time I’ll need with Ivy. I don’t want to rush it, so I say, “Early AM? I got you a ride. Be at the helipad in Middletown and I’ll send it back for you.”

“It’s your money, Delaney. Not mine. So if you want to finish whatever it is you’re doing while I charge you by the half hour, be my guest.”

“Your way with words makes me miss you, Pax. Makes me wonder why the fuck I haven’t talked to you in years.”

But the call ends.

“Who was that?” Ivy asks again. “Someone else is coming?”

“We’ll be done by then. I won’t let him come until we’re done.”

“So he’s going to see me there? Nolan—”

“Ivy,” I say in a low growl. “
Shut
.
Up
.
”

She’s stunned silent. Which was the whole point of starting the fantasy early.

“Paxton Vance does not give one fuck about you, take my word on that. So whether he sees you there or not, he won’t care. He’s coming with information I need. But if you think I’m not in control of this night, say stop now and I’ll put your ass in a cab and send you home.”

When I look over at Ivy her mouth is hanging open like she’s about to say something. But then she closes it.

“Good girl,” I mutter, pulling the car up to the helipad. “Now keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it for my cock.”

I don’t look at her this time. Just exit the car and slam the door. Waving to the crew, who wave back. I walk around to Ivy’s side, open her door, grab her arm, and yank her out.

Still, she says nothing.

I almost sigh, that’s how fucking spectacular this night is going to be if she plays along. I look back at the crew, who have all disappeared, just as I ordered them to, and drag her over to the helicopter, out of their sight, even if they do disobey orders

Ivy stumbles once, then twice, but I don’t turn back, just pull the door open and point. “Get the fuck in and keep quiet. If you scream, no one will hear. But I will, and it will really
piss me off
.
”

Ivy is conflicted. Her chest is rising and falling so fast, I think she might pass out.

“Ivy,” I bark, leaning down into her ear as I grab her hair and yank. I slip a hand between her legs and begin to rub small circles over her clit through her panties. “You’re lucky you didn’t wear a bra. That makes me happy. But your resistance doesn’t. So get the fuck in the helicopter and I won’t hurt you.”

She stares at her feet for a moment and then, in the smallest voice I could possibly imagine, she says, “No.”

I push her face first onto the helicopter seat, holding her head down as I pull her dress up to give me a good look at her ass. I smack it. Hard.

Ivy gasps, then tries to get up, but my hand pushes down harder on the side of her head as my other hand gets busy between her legs. “You can’t wait to come, can you, Ivy? You dirty fucking whore. Do you want me to make you come right here? In the middle of the airport? Or do you want to get in like a good girl?”

She’s panting now. Her breathing is seriously disturbing. “I’ll get in,” she says.

I ease up on her head, pull her dress down, and point to the seat. She climbs in, which is not easy in those stiletto shoes I sent her in the fantasy box. But she manages and before she can even look at me, I grab the handcuffs hanging on the door and fasten them to her wrists. There’s a long chain attached to them, with a clip on the other end, which I secure under the seat, pulling it tight, so she has to lean over.

Then I close her door and walk over to my side, get in, and power up the engine. “I hope you don’t get motion-sick, Miss Rockwell. Because if you do”—I look at her and find her wide eyes filled with fear
—
“I’ll make you lick it up before you get out.”

The rotors above pick up speed and then the deafening roar of the blades fills the cockpit, making any more talking useless.

Good. I’m glad.

She needs this time to get herself together. Because as soon as we get out on Martha’s Vineyard, she will have a choice to make.

Stop.

Or keep going.

Chapter Thirty-Six - Ivy

I feel like I might hyperventilate so I concentrate on taking in long draws of air to calm my racing heart.

Why are you doing this?

What if this is real and not a fantasy?

What if he hurts me?

All these questions run through my mind as we take off, nothing but the rhythmic sound of the rotors to fill my head and drown out my concerns.

I can stop it at any time.

But can I really? Will he really stop? I can’t know unless I use the safe word. And if I use the safe word and he does stop, then we can never try again. The trust will be broken and I will forever be certain that he will stop. And isn’t the whole point of the fantasy to feel like he won’t stop? To let him overpower me, to make me give in, to struggle, be taken, and love every minute of it?

If we finish what we started and come out the other end smiling will it be worth it?

Yes, I decide. Yes. Because like it or not, I’m thoroughly turned on. I want him to do this. I want him to do it the way he promised. I want to feel safe, even when I don’t feel safe. I want him to prove to me that he’s not what people think and I want to submit to his fantasy because it’s my fantasy too.