Redeem Me (Beckett Brothers #2)

12. Caelon

Chapter Twelve

CAELON

Something about the woman drives me so crazy, I barely recognise myself.

Who the fuck do I think I am?

I know who I’m not.

I know who I can never be.

What I can never be. But being around Ivy does things to me. Stirs sensations in my stomach that I haven’t felt for a long time.

The thought of her going out to a bar, of another man touching her, kissing her, makes me nauseated. I’ve no right to stop her going out. I’ve no claim on her. I’m so fucked up, and she’s so flawless, I can offer her nothing. I could pretend I’m protecting her the way I promised Dermot when he heard his sister was working for me, but this has fuck all to do with Dermot, and everything to do with the way I can’t stop staring at her. Can’t stop thinking about her.

Knowing she’s down the corridor every night is a fresh brand of torture. I’ve never been interested in another woman. Not before Isabella. Not after Isabella. Not until her .

‘You don’t want anyone else to have me…’ she processes out loud, her pearly white teeth digging into her lower lip.

I hold her gaze as the air thickens between us. Now I’ve basically banned her from going out, there’s no point tiptoeing around the fact she’s driving me insane with lust. ‘The attraction between us is painful.’

‘But you’ve been actively avoiding me since I moved in. You’ve been colder than ice.’ Confusion colours her tone.

‘Because I’m so fucking hot for you, I’m walking around with a permanent semi in my pants,’ I hiss. ‘Because every time I look at you, the urge to tear your clothes off consumes me, and because none of that is okay, for a hundred different reasons, not least because you’re too young, you’re my best friend’s sister, you’re the nanny, and we’re living together in the house where my children sleep.’

She shifts in her seat, arching forwards like she’s about to challenge me. The simple summer dress she’s wearing is so thin it’s practically see through and it’s not helping my resolve.

Thankfully, Orla and Owen race back into the room before either of us says something we’ll regret.

I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t resign with immediate effect.

And if she doesn’t, what does that say?

‘Daddy, we lost it.’ Orla slips her hand into mine and squeezes to get my attention. ‘Will you buy me a rabbit? It might live longer than a fish. Or even better, what about a dog?’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Every parent’s universal answer for ‘no’, without causing a scene.

Liz strides in with a tray full of delicious-smelling food. ‘Steaks are medium rare, served with potato gratin. I’ll bring the veg now.’

‘Is my dinner ready?’ Owen sniffs the air and thankfully all talk of a pet rabbit or dog, forgotten, for now .

But it will be a very long time before I forget my confession to Ivy, specifically, the look in her eyes when I admitted how badly I want her. The way they flared with a hope that had no right to be there.

We finish the steaks and the wine, and when the kids go in search of the damned rabbit again, it feels like a great idea to open another bottle of red.

‘Is this okay?’ Ivy’s eyes drift from my face to my chest as I refill her glass. ‘I mean drinking with someone who’s too young, your best friend’s sister, the nanny, and someone you live with in the house where your children sleep?’

‘Are you always so insolent?’ My gaze lingers on her full, luscious lips.

‘Are you always so uptight?’ Amusement laces her tone.

‘Believe me, it’s better this way.’ I blow out a breath.

‘Better for who?’ She arches forwards to pick up her wine glass again and I get another glimpse of her spectacular cleavage.

‘Don’t push me, Ivy.’ I drink in her smooth, flawless skin. ‘It won’t end well for either of us.’

The kids reappear, knees covered in grass stains.

‘Let’s get you guys bathed and ready for bed.’ I take two large mouthfuls of wine and stand.

‘Can Ivy come?’ Orla pleads.

‘I’d love to.’ Her blazing blue eyes lock on mine as she pushes her chair back from the table.

Her smart mouth is testing every bit of my willpower.

Ivy runs the kids a bath. I read them a story. She tucks in Orla, while I tuck in Owen.

It’s only when Owen’s soft snores echo through the room and his face relaxes into a peaceful expression that I back out of his bedroom. Slowly, gently, I close the door.

Ivy is on the landing, closing Orla’s door.

‘Is she asleep? ’

‘She is.’ Ivy makes a point of checking the tiny silver watch on her wrist. ‘So, seeing as I’m not “allowed” to go out tonight,’ she uses her fingers to make quotation marks, ‘what am I supposed to do now?’

My eyes roam over her dress. It would be so easy to slip my hand beneath it, or better yet, rip it from her body and see all of her.

But I can’t.

I won’t.

She’s Dermot’s sister. I’d do well to remember it. Especially as he hasn’t stopped harping on about how grateful he is that she’s been placed under my roof. Under my protection.

In reality, the only person she needs protecting from is me. Everything about her has me imagining ripping the clothes off her and making her mine. Tonight’s outfit is doing nothing to alleviate that. I’m not sure what’s worse, Ivy in a dress, or in those yoga pants.

‘You’re supposed to behave yourself,’ I growl, ‘and stop fucking tempting your boss with dresses that show the swell of your perfect tits.’

‘Is that any way to speak to your employee?’ Her rosy lips twist like she’s biting back a smirk. We’re way beyond the simplicity of a working relationship.

‘Is that any way to dress for work?’ My fingers itch to touch her.

‘Technically, I’m off the clock.’ She juts her chin out defiantly.

Brat. I’ve a good mind to put her over my knee.

‘You seem determined to drag me off the straight and narrow.’ I step closer, against my better judgement, and get a whiff of her feminine scent – pomegranate perfume and whatever lotion she puts on her flawless, satiny skin.

‘I’m not the one who put my hand in your underwear,’ she reminds me, sending my mind straight back to the memory of her sweet, dripping heat.

‘More’s the pity.’ My cock strains against my pants. The wine. I can only blame the wine.

‘Let me.’ She places a hand on my chest. It sears my skin even through my shirt.

‘It’s never going to happen.’ I reach up and grip her wrist, but can’t quite bring myself to drag her hand away. Not when it feels so fucking good to be touched.

‘You know why I wanted to go out tonight?’ Fire dances in her pupils.

‘I got the general idea.’ I scowl. Jealousy leaks into my stomach. What is this woman doing to me? Still. I don’t let her wrist go.

‘I wanted someone to take the edge off because I’ve got this insanely hot boss, who I’m stuck sharing a house with, and every time he walks in the room, I ruin a fresh pair of panties.’

She swallows, and my eyes are drawn to her long, elegant neck. What I wouldn’t do to run my tongue over it. To sink my teeth into her skin and mark her as mine, to Jared and to every other man out there. But she’s not mine. And she never can be.

She thought I was tortured before; telling me she’s wet for me is only making it a million times worse. She’s driving me insane.

‘ Every time he walks into the room?’ I’m playing with matches in a mansion made of wood and yet I still can’t stop myself. I lean into her, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs.

‘Every. Single. Time.’ She punctuates each word for effect.

‘Are you wet for me right now?’ The words are out before I can stop them.

‘Yes,’ she whispers, inching closer.

Our faces are millimetres apart. Her breath is my breath .

‘Show me,’ I demand, hating myself, but unable to help myself. The air crackles. Let’s see how brazen she is now.

She hesitates for a beat, then that boldness kicks in again. She keeps one hand on my chest, while the other one disappears beneath her dress. Her eyelids drift close for a split second, and she hisses out a tiny breath that transforms my blood to molten lava.

Shifting on her feet, she reopens her eyes and raises her hand up like she’s about to take an oath. The glistening slickness on the tip of her middle finger is enough to make me break one.

I lean forwards and run my tongue over her finger, tasting her arousal. She pulls in a sharp breath as I take her fingertip in my mouth and suck it clean. She tastes like the world’s most decadent dessert, and I’m starving for her.

I need more.

‘I’m going to take that edge off for you, once and once only.’

What the fuck am I doing?

‘Thank God, or I’ll be forced to sneak out of the bedroom window later.’ She wets her lips, and my gaze drops to that criminally enticing mouth. That perfect Cupid’s bow that’s begging to be licked.

I don’t kiss her, though. This isn’t about romance. It’s about satiating her need.

‘Don’t thank God, thank me. And as for the window, I dare you to try.’ I pin her against the wall with my hips and she gasps.

‘Or perhaps I could sneak someone in.’ Her tone is provoking. ‘Jared made it clear he’s more than willing.’

Oh, she knows exactly how to push my buttons.

‘Do that, Ivy, if you can live with passing a death sentence. Because if I find a man in my house, I’ll be forced to assume the worst and put a bullet in him. Maybe ten, just to be sure the threat is eliminated.’

‘Shut up and put something in me.’ Her eyes dart towards my bedroom door.

No way.

I’ll never allow another woman in my bed. It would give the wrong idea.

‘My office, now,’ I grit out, tearing my hips from hers. I nudge her down the stairs, towards my office door. At least if any of the staff notice us disappearing, I can say it’s work related. And my office is one of the few rooms in the house without cameras. ‘Don’t mistake this for something it’s not, though. I already told you I don’t do romance, sweetheart.’

‘But you will make me come hard enough to see stars.’ Ivy tosses my own line back in my face, word for word.

I open the office door and drag her in by her dress. My cock is leaking precum and I haven’t even touched her yet.

‘On my desk.’ I shove the pile of paperwork onto the floor.

Ivy hops up without hesitation, lifting her dress up over her head and tossing it to the floor. A strapless, white lace bra supports perfect, round breasts which heave with her ragged inhales. Inch after inch of creamy skin tempts me all the way down to a flimsy ivory thong. Very virginal. But I already know there’s nothing innocent about Ivy Winters. There’s nothing innocent about the way her body responds to mine.

‘Remove your lingerie. It looks sexy as fuck, but it’ll look better on my floor.’

‘What if someone walks in?’ She glances at the door.

‘Then they’ll see my head buried between your thighs, lapping at your pussy like a man who hasn’t had a drink in a week.’

She hisses out a breath, reaching around to unhook her bra. It falls to the floor with a soft, satisfying thud. She’s even more beautiful than I imagined. Her rosebud nipples stand to attention, begging to be worshipped.

‘And the rest.’ My eyes fall to the lace triangle between her legs. I’ve felt her slick, softness. Tasted it twice now. But I haven’t seen it.

I hold my breath as she slides the thin material down her trembling thighs and onto my floor. She stares at me almost challengingly as she inches her ass back onto my desk and spreads herself wide for me like a goddamn fucking dessert.

‘Like what you see?’ Her eyes lock on mine. I love her confidence. Her brazenness. The way she is utterly unashamed of her body and what it wants. It’s so fucking sexy.

‘You’re fucking flawless, Ivy.’ I prowl towards her, taking my time. If it’s only going to be one time, I’m going to draw this out for as long as possible. ‘I’ve wanked myself stupid, remembering the feel of your tight little cunt, and the taste of the mess you made all over my fingers.’

I stand between her legs, towering over her.

‘There’s something so fucking hot about being naked in your office,’ she admits. ‘Maybe I should say I’m going out more often.’

‘Don’t even think about it. This is a onetime thing.’ I trace a finger along her inner thigh and watch as goosebumps ripple across her flesh.

‘Better make it memorable then,’ she goads me.

She actually goads me.

My fingers skim higher, lingering at her groin. She squirms, and I laugh. ‘Patience, Ivy. All good things come to those who wait.’ I slide through her slickness once, then tear my fingers away. An animalistic cry leaks from her lip as I bring my finger to my mouth and suck. ‘Why do bad ideas taste so good?’

I reach for her again. I couldn’t stop if I tried. Her eyes latch on mine, staring at me as I slide from her clit to her slit with slow, deliberate strokes.

It’s my turn to goad. I dip my face lower, but I still don’t kiss her. Instead, my lips capture a nipple and suck, as I sink two fingers into her centre, wishing they were my cock. But this isn’t about me. It’s about her. ‘How’s that edge doing?’

‘I’m about to fall off it sometime really fucking soon,’ she pants, her head lolling back and her eyes rolling to the ceiling. ‘Catapult might be a more accurate description.’ Her core clenches around my fingers and I slide them out.

‘Don’t even think about coming.’ I tilt her head up, forcing her eyes back to me. ‘I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. Up on your knees. On all fours.’ I step back from the desk, watching as she hoists herself round and lifts her smooth, peachy ass cheeks into the air. Fucking hell, I could come from that sight alone.

‘Like this?’ She glances at me over her shoulder, her glossy blonde hair falling over her eyes.

‘Exactly like that.’ I pause for a second, committing every inch of her to memory before burying my nose in her ass and my tongue in her pussy, reminding myself with every single stroke of my tongue that this will be the only time.