Chapter 4: The Choker Lie

Aaron leaned against the door frame and though, Ivette didn’t look up from the string of emails she was dispatching, she knew he was watching her.

She sighed and pushed back her seat. “What do you want?”

He loosened his striped tie, slowly, with those slender fingers she had grown accustomed to overtime and—Ivette averted her gaze, suddenly unable to meet Aaron’s eyes. She couldn’t. Not with her thoughts running wild in directions they shouldn’t.

Christ. She could hardly concentrate. She’d had flings before. During the breaks and breakups in her relationship with Aaron, she’d had flings. To take off the edge, to forget. . .or try to--Aaron Maxwell wasn’t a man you moved on from. The harder you tried, the deeper you sink.

None had been like this. No man had made her go wild like that stranger had. No man had unraveled her or broken down her walls so mercilessly. Not even Aaron. Ivette didn’t like it one bit. That a stranger’s touch could make her feel this way. That she could still remember what his lips tasted like, felt like. That she’d told him her name when he’d asked, without hesitation. Or the fact that she hadn’t been of enough presence to even ask his name. Hell, she hadn’t even cared about his name last night.

“Would it be that bad? To let me be CEO after the merge?”

Ivette snorted, spinning her chair to cast her gaze out the window. She found the view mesmerizing, as always. The sky in Seattle seemed to be lower. . .more of a silky parachute that seemed to be within reach. Sitting on the highest floor of King Corp, surrounded by ceiling-to-floor windows, often made her feel like she was enveloped by the puffy clouds that were actually good company—well, except when they got angry and turned dark and brought the rain with them. At least, they didn’t lie to her, try to control her, or stab her in the back. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that, Ron.”

She heard his soft, unhurried footsteps as he approached her and her eyes shuttered when his fingers massaged her shoulders lightly. “You are strong, Ivy. It’s one of the many reasons I chose you. Together, we can lead this company to greater heights. I know it’s hard—“

Ivette whirled, seething. “No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this. Do you think I’m stupid? Maybe I am. For trusting you with my life, my work. All those questions, all of that concern about King Corp and me, that was you gaining information and I stupidly fed it to you. You didn’t fucking choose me. You chose King Corp. You chose my father and—“

Ivette paused as she recounted every discussion with Aaron about King Corp. Every time he had insisted that she tell him ‘all about it’. Ever since she’d taken the award last year, bringing King Corp to the third most successful company in America with Maxwell Industries just a few points away, Aaron had gotten immersed in her affairs, more so than usual. Her gaze shot up in sudden realization and the bastard had the nerve to smile smugly at her as she said, “This was not father’s idea. It was yours.”

He blew out an exasperated breath. “I did this for you, Ivy. For us. Our future. You’re intelligent. You know this merger is a brilliant idea.” He cupped her cheek and Ivy resisted the urge to bat him away. The warmth of his palm seeped through her cheek, a great contrast to the cool air blasting through the office from the air con. “I—“ He stopped short, frowning, and his blue eyes narrowed to Ivette’s neck. His thumb caressed the base of her throat and his expression turned stormy. “What—what is this, Ivette?”

Her hand slapped her throat and she jerked away from Aaron’s hold. His gaze pinned her to where she stood, and her blood thrummed in her veins as she realized what he’d seen. A hickey. Her fingers wrapped around her throat to hide it from Aaron and she blurted the first words that came to mind.

“Choker.”

Blonde brows knitted together in confusion. “What?”

Ivette swallowed and grappled for words. “Ah. . .last night. . .Ann and I. . .we were trying out her things. It’s ah. . .the choker wouldn’t fit.”

Yeah. That was the stupidest thing Ivette had said in her entire life, but she couldn’t tell him what happened. That she’d bared her neck for another man to nibble and stroke with his velvety smooth tongue that had ripped release from her faster than she could grasp. He would be devastated, and angry. Aaron was a lot of things but there were lines he would never cross. Lines she crossed last night.

His eyebrows rose and a small smile teased his mouth. “My fingers would fit though.” There wasn’t an ounce of doubt or distrust in his eyes. Ivette smiled, even as the guilt devoured her whole.

Later that night, Ivette dinned with her family and Aaron’s. Aaron’s father and hers spoke endlessly of the merger and the new companies they would invest in, occasionally asking Aaron’s opinion on it. No one asked hers. Not that it was important anyway.

She sipped from her wine glass as she half listened to her mom speak of the newest designer in town and how it would be great to have her wedding gown designed and—Ivette drank more wine and zoned out completely.

Wedding. Lying, cheating Ivette was getting married, and yet all she could think about was another man.

*****************

His hands gripped her hips hard and she pushed back into him, taking in more of his considerable length. He filled her up completely and she knew nothing else. Not her name. Not where they were.

Another thrust in, deep enough to impale her, and she was mewling, and screaming. Every so slowly, he pulled out, rubbing his tip against her entrance. Ivette went wild, moving against his tip and arching her ass further into him.

“Fucking hell, lass,” He breathed.

She’d never thought she would like being called lass, but on his tongue that had licked every inch of her body, and his lips that trailed kisses down the small of her back to her cheeks, it sounded like a prayer.

He slammed into her with abandon and Ivette screamed with pleasure. Nothing should feel this good. This. . .was sin. Tension built up in her, arching her back, and her toes, and it rose still, causing her to shake uncontrollably. Her entire world had been reduced to nothing. He drove harder into her, groaning and Ivette matched his movements, tightening her inner muscles as she did.

He growled and flipped her roughly on her back.

She gazed into his brown eyes that had darkened with lust and she smiled, tongue darting out to lick her lips. His eyes caught the movement and he stilled, as if remembering where her tongue had been only a few minutes ago, and how it had swept over his tip and curled around him until his knees had buckled.

His lips slammed against her and at the same time, he slid into her. She bucked, moaning hoarsely, and gripping his hair tight enough to pull it out as she urged him to go faster, harder. He did and she felt electricity zap through her when his tongue found her nipple and clamped down on it.

Stars exploded in her vision as a release, great enough to fracture her body, soul, and mind into bits, tore through her, shattering even the ground underneath the king-sized bed and she vaguely registered the pain that shot through her back as she hit the headboard.

Her gaze lifted to his as she panted, still quivering. Covered in sweat that dripped down on her, he was still the most stunning man she’d ever seen. She wanted to lick it off him. Taste the salt of him on her tongue. Ivette told him as much as a purr escaped her when he hardened in her.

He dropped his head in the hollow of her shoulder and murmured against her skin as he moved faster in her.

“What is your name, lass?”

“Whatever you call me,” She moaned.

“Tell me,” He whispered, dragging his tongue on the curve of her ear.

She gasped. “Ivette King.”

*****************

The plane to London finally touched down and though Ivette had been half asleep through half the journey, she still yawned tiredly. She didn’t travel well. It didn’t matter if she traveled in a first-class or if she dunked sleeping pills in the water. She was always grouchy after a flight. She ignored her father as she alighted, slipping on her sunglasses and handing her luggage to the chauffeur. For the next six days of the awards conference, she would speak to him only when necessary. Or not at all.

“You look ridiculous,” Aaron said, raising his brows at the glasses that were too big for her face. He opened the door to the sleek, black limo and Ivette spied a few paparazzi around the corner, cameras flashing. They would make the news tonight, along with the several other nominees arriving at other locations. She could almost see the headlines. Maxwell’s heir and King Corp’s CEO. The power couple.

Already, Aaron had placed himself in the perfect angle that would capture his features more prominently. Ivette would be doing that too—posing for the camera—if she wasn’t currently feeling like smashing something.

Still, she knew they looked perfect either way.

Picture perfect.

Barf.

She smiled sweetly at him, making an effort to press her lips against his smooth skin and she caught a whiff of his favorite aftershave, as she said, “A little to the left, love. The angle’s a bit off.”

Aaron tilted his head, adjusting, and when the camera flashed again, she slid into the back seat, scooting over to the edge so he could join her. Only when the vehicle was moving did she remove the hideous glasses. It was both for the sun and her sunken eyes. Lately, she couldn’t get any sleep. Her dreams were haunted by moans and hot, earth-shattering sex.

“Your dark circles resemble bruises, Ivette!” Her mother, who sat across her, beside her father chided. “You must cover that up. Have you been eating well? You look lean. Perhaps, you should move back in before the wedding! Clearly, you aren’t taking care of yourself enough.”

Ivette shot Aaron an exasperated glance. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car instead.” Aaron only chuckled without looking up from his tablet.

Her mother chattered away for the rest of the trip to the hotel and Ivette wished she had taken the taxi and ditched the ride that was supposed to portray a united front to the general public. It was all about the wedding and matching outfits and the guest lists and. . .her mother wouldn’t stop talking.

At least Aaron’s parents had hitched a different ride. Else, Ivette would have taken a jet, just to escape from the plotting mothers and conniving fathers.

With each day that passed, Ivette found that she was more inclined to run from all of it. From the wedding. From the company. From Aaron.