It’s nearly impossible to stand normally here on the sidewalk in front of her with this raging hard-on I have down my pants. Ivy is just too goddamn sexy. I have to get her back to my apartment and get her out of those clothes, or get those perfect fucking lips of hers wrapped around my cock. Forget any of the models I’ve shot during my career in the industry—all I want is her.
“Fine,” she grumbles, snatching her phone back from me. “I’ll call my parents. But only because you have the chocolate shell.”
“Right.” I nod. Sure. If she wants to play it like that, fine, I’ll let her. But I’ve seen something in her eyes when we’ve been in the studio together and tonight at dinner that lets me know there’s more to it than that. Even if she doesn’t know it, it’s not just the threat of never working in the industry again that brought her here tonight.
She’s impressed by my apartment when we get back. I can tell even though she does her best job trying not to react to it. A guy my age really shouldn’t be living this well, but that’s where talent and hard work get you. Besides, when I first moved to the city, I was working for free and living in a building ready to collapse with six other guys for roommates. Some people just aren’t willing to make the sacrifices required to reap the benefits later.
Ivy is already at the fridge while I’m still kicking off my shoes by the door. “Someone’s in a hurry,” I chuckle.
“I was promised ice cream with chocolate shell,” she replies, glancing back over her shoulder.
“So you’re making sure it’s really there? I’m not lying to you, Ivy.”
Ivy scoffs. “Oh, right. Because you’ve shown such a shining example of good character so far.” Ivy reaches into the freezer and pulls out the carton of vanilla ice cream. “Ah ha!”
“See? I told you.”
“Still have to find the shell,” she replies, but before she can move, I go over to the pantry and pull out the bottle.
“See? What did I tell you?”
Ivy huffs and rolls her eyes, but there’s a little bit of playfulness behind it all. “Congratulations, Mr. Barrett. You aren’t a complete scumbag.”
Her sassiness invigorates me. I’m already turned on, but for some reason, the way she’s acting now is getting me going even more. I pop the top off the chocolate and advance on her, dragging my eyes up her unbelievably curvy, delicious physique. I could care less about the ice cream now; all I want my tongue on is what’s hidden between her legs.
“And you, Ivy, aren’t a complete angel either.”
“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” she stammers, taking a few steps back.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” I counter.
“I don’t!”
“I’ve seen you give me a few looks back at the studio,” I say, closing in on her. “Checking me out, like you think I’m good-looking.”
“Oh, please!” she scoffs, acting all innocent. But it’s a bunch of horse shit. Her cheeks tell the whole story. They’re as red as the cherry tomatoes that were chopped up and thrown into her spring salad back at 4Pine.
“You’re gonna deny it?” I ask. “Now whose character is in question?”
Ivy opens her mouth like she’s about to speak, then stops like I’ve stumped her. She plops both hands on her hips defiantly, which only accentuates her curves, causing me to salivate. I can see she wants to admit that I’m right but just out of spite chooses not to.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.
“Oh, yeah?” I step quickly closer and raise the bottle of chocolate shell over her head. “Well, you know what I was thinking? I’d rather skip the vanilla ice cream for dessert tonight…”
“Mike, don’t you dare—”
“And I was thinking I’d rather just have chocolate-covered Ivy!”
“Mike!”
Ivy tries to duck out of the way, but she’s not quick enough. I squeeze the bottle, and a thick stream of chocolate squirts out and splashes all over her face, neck and chest. She shrieks like a little girl, puts both hands up, and darts out of the way around the kitchen island toward the living room.
Laughing, I follow in hot pursuit, and squirt another stream all over her back and perfectly shaped behind.
“No!” she cries out, giggling. “Mike, no!”
I notice as I chase her that she’s dropped the whole Mr. Barrett thing.
I manage to hunt her down over by the coffee table. She tries to squat down and hide, but that only lets me close in on her, pin her down on the floor, and cover her face in chocolate.
Squealing, she opens her mouth and licks her lips as the dessert topping splashes down on her. My cock is absolutely throbbing as though I’ve discovered some kind of food fetish I never even knew I had. Without even thinking, I lean down and give her a great big chocolatey kiss that is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Christ, it’s like kissing a girl again for the very first time.