“Ivy, nothing you do could make me feel less of you. Nothing.”
chapter twenty-two
Love is a serious mental disease. ~ Plato
Jon
We’re in a long line of cars exiting the freeway heading to the Gorge Amphitheater. I grip the steering wheel, hoping I haven’t made a huge mistake. The thing about Ivy is that I’m powerless to resist her when she sets her mind to something. She wanted me here, so, yeah, I caved.
I can’t say I didn’t try, though. Last week when she told me Cassidy wasn’t going to use her Sasquatch tickets and would sell them to us cheap, I said no. I’d seen the line-up. I had zero interest in going.
Ivy looked at me as if I’d sprouted horns. A big group was road-tripping over here and she really wanted to go. James was no help either. I think his exact words were, “There’s no fucking way I’ll miss it again this year.” Way to support your friend, bro.
Ivy kept pressing. God, she was relentless. Listed off a bunch of the bands as if I didn’t already know who was playing. Shit. I’d given away two tickets the last time I was on the air.
But that was last week, and here I am.
I glance over at Ivy in the passenger seat. With her mismatched sock feet on the dash, she’s keeping time to the music while braiding her hair.
“Looks like you’re ready to get down to business,” I tell her.
“I can’t wait!” Excitement lights up her eyes, making me glad I’m here. With her. I can endure anything if it makes her happy. “Do you think the tent will take long to set up?” she asks. “I can’t wait to check out everything.”
“Stella said it’s easy, but obviously, she hasn’t used it in years.”
“You checked it, right? All the stakes and poles are there?”
“Yep. Laid it all out in her backyard and—”
“Ahhhh.” She points to a car trying to squeeze in front of us. “Don’t let him cut between us and the others. We need to go in as a group to get camping spots next to each other.”
Too late. He’s already too far over. I ease up on the gas so I’m not riding his bumper. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” The guy ends up turning into the RV section, so we’re right behind Kelly and Reece again.
The check-in process goes smoothly and soon, with music blaring around us, we’re all setting up our tents. Ivy wastes no time laying out our sleeping bags and zipping them together. This weekend is going to be fun in more ways than one.
Except for Sunday afternoon.
When O-Twist is playing.
Hopefully, I can talk Ivy into heading out before they take the stage. We’ll be tired, right? Besides, a lot of people leave early on Sunday anyway, so it’s not like we’d be the only ones. If not, though, I’ve already got it figured out. I’ll stay back at the campsite. Pretend I’m hungover. Or too tired. Or that I have a stomachache.
One thing’s for sure. I refuse to see my father in person, even from a distance.
As I pull the cooler out of the trunk and dump in one of the bags of ice we bought at the gas station in Vantage, I hear someone coming up behind me.
“Jon!” a female voice shrieks.
Tina?
Before I can turn around, she jumps onto my back, piggyback-style, and wraps her legs around my waist. Even though it can’t be more than sixty degrees and the weather forecast calls for rain tonight, she’s wearing shorts with cowboy boots. Untangling myself from her bare legs, I push her knees down so she has to stand, then I turn to face her. She adjusts her cowboy hat and flashes me a broad smile. Two other girls are with her, including Sara.
“Hello, ladies.”
“I didn’t think you were coming.” Tina puts her hands on her hips. “Why did you change your mind?”
Before I can answer, I hear the tent zipper and Ivy steps out. With her skinny jeans, short boots and a PSU hoodie under her jean jacket, she’s looking pretty damn hot. “Because I twisted his arm,” she says.
“Yeah, it hurt.”
She comes over to us with a funny little smile on her face. At first, it seems like she’s going to rub up against me, staking her claim for Tina and Sara’s benefit, but no. She slides her arm around my waist and then, when my guard is down, she pokes me right in the ribs. Where I’m really ticklish.
“Aaaaah.” I grab her hands, pull them away and lock them behind her.
She laughs. “Baby.”
Tina has a curious expression on her face as she looks Ivy up and down. “Is it just the two of you at this campsite?”
“The White House guys are there,” I say, letting go of Ivy and pointing to two army-sized tents next door. “Kelly and Reece are on the other side of them.”
“And beyond them,” Ivy says, “are some people from my floor.”
“Can we put up our tent next to yours, then?” Tina asks. “The camp host says each site can sleep up to six people.”
I glance at Ivy to see what she thinks, but I can’t read her expression. Is she indifferent about it or pissed?
Since we’re all packed tightly together, it wouldn’t be much different than if they were in an adjacent campsite, so I tell Tina okay. Most likely, we’ll all be hanging out in one big group anyway, eating and partying.
A few hours later, with the campsite as situated as it’s going to get and our alcohol locked in the trunk of Ivy’s car, we’re sitting on our blanket on the grassy hillside overlooking the stage and sharing an outrageously expensive bottle of water that we bought inside, because they wouldn’t let us bring in our own.
“Having your groupies right next to us better not screw things up,” Ivy says.
Screw what things up?
I want to ask, although I have a pretty damn good idea what she means. I take a drink and hand the bottle to her. “They’re not my groupies.”
“Ex-girlfriends, then.”
“Girlfriend,” I say, enunciating the
d
. “Singular.
Uno
. Besides, Tina and I never dated, so you can’t really classify her as an ex-girlfriend.”
“Ex-fuck-buddy, then?”
I give her a sheepish smile. “I guess you could say that.”
Something mischievous glints in her eye and she comes closer. “You guess? Does that mean you don’t know?”
“Guys can be pretty fucking clueless,” I say, playing along with her.
She climbs onto my lap, facing me, her arms around my neck. I put my hands on her butt and scoot her closer, growing hard as she slides over me.
“Really?” Then she kisses me, slipping her tongue in my mouth.
She tastes like the wine cooler she had back at the campsite. Only a few thin layers of fabric are preventing me from being inside her right now. I grab her hips and— Fuuuuck. She grinds against me. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t turn me on to be doing this around all these people. This weekend is already shaping up to be better than I expected.
She pulls away from me slightly. “So. Are we just fuck buddies, too?”
“I can’t believe you’d even say that.” A surge of emotion rushes through me. I know she’s just teasing, but I don’t want her to even joke about it.
As I open my mouth to tell her what she means to me, something behind us draws her attention. She lets out a little scream and jumps up. “Dani!”
I crank my head around to see a group of people approaching. I recognize a few of them from her dorm. “Hey,” I say, getting up and moving our blanket over to make room for theirs.
After Ivy hugs them and returns to my side, I pull her close and entwine my fingers in hers. “We’re not fuck buddies, Ives,” I whisper in her ear. “You mean so much more to me than that.”
She squeezes my hands. “I know. I was just kidding.”
The opening band starts playing, and soon we’re clapping along with the lead singer as the bright orange sun sets behind the stage.
Ivy has managed to soften my heart, daring me to dream again.
And it scares the shit out of me.
* * *
Ivy
Jon and I are pretty wasted by the time we stumble to our tent. After the last band finished up, we followed everyone along the trail back to the campground and continued partying at the White House campsite. I don’t know what it is, but the biggest parties always seem to begin and end with them.
After brushing our teeth at one of the communal sinks scattered throughout the campground, I don’t even have the tent zipped shut all the way when Jon grabs me from behind. He’s already naked from the waist down.
“How did you do that so fast?” I ask, laughing.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” His words are a little slurred. “I need you.”
“Shhhh. Someone will hear. There are literally a ton of people around us.” Including a couple of girls in the next tent who are probably wishing they were here instead of me.
“You think I give a shit?”
I pull the shirt over my head and slip out of my pajama bottoms, thinking this will distract him and get him to quiet down.
He groans loudly. “I want to fuck you so bad, Ivy, it’s not even funny.”
Someone nearby laughs. It sounds like James.
“Oh my God, Jon,” I whisper-laugh. “You need to shut up.”
I climb into the double sleeping bag and pull him down on top of me. But instead of grabbing one of the condoms we brought, he slides down my stomach.
Oh my God. Oh my God. I know what he’s planning to do.
His long-fingered hands are warm against my knees as he pushes my legs apart.
“I need to taste you.” His breath is hot against my sensitive skin. My whole body quivers in anticipation. Then, spreading my inner folds with his fingers, he licks me. Long and agonizingly slow.
I hiss, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as I arch my back.
“Is this good?” His voice is low and husky, vibrating against me.
“Um, yes,” I manage to say. My knees are trembling on either side of his head. “It’s...it’s perfect.”
“Okay. Because I want more.”
He slips a finger inside me, moving it in and out. My inner muscles tighten around him, and a storm of pressure gathers in my lower belly. I am seriously on the edge right now. I’m not going to last much—
He gently draws my clit between his teeth and begins to suckle. And that’s when I pretty much lose it.
I buck my hips and cry out his name as a massive climax roars through me. It feels like I’m on fire, every inch of me burns.
“Ah, yes!” he groans. “There it is.”
With his tongue against me, I ride out my orgasm, vaguely aware that I need to be quiet. As the tremors echo away, I lie back against the pillows, and Jon slides up my body, kissing me as he goes. My hips. My stomach. My breasts. His tongue swirls around one nipple then the other.
“I want you inside me now,” I tell him.
“That can be arranged,” he says.
Soon, the broad tip of his penis probes my inner thigh. After a few tries, he finds my center. I raise my hips to meet him and with a powerful thrust, he enters me, filling me completely. So completely, in fact, that it seems as if he’s pressing against the inside of my belly button.
“Oh my God,” he says, a little too loudly. “You feel so good.”
Someone laughs again. And then there’s a whistle. But I don’t care. I’m too drunk and numb from that orgasm to really give a crap. Hell, most of the people here are probably doing the exact same thing we are. And those who aren’t are wishing they were.
“Jesus, Ivy,” he groans, rocking his hips back almost to the point of withdrawal.
I dig my nails into his back to keep him from going any further. He needs to stay in me. I’ll die if he doesn’t. He makes a few shallow thrusts, causing the ridge around the tip of him to rub against my sensitive flesh. I’m on the verge of coming again.
Something niggles in the back of my mind, but I can’t think what it is. Something I’m supposed to be doing right now. And then it occurs to me that I didn’t check my exits or make sure I could get away if I needed to. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as the realization hits me. My old fears don’t control me anymore.
Dr. Mehta was right. Telling Jon the truth made all the difference. Not only did he not reject me, but I feel safe with him. He won’t hurt me. I trust him.
I hold him tighter, twine my legs around his.
He thrusts into me with fluid strokes, and then, “Ivy!”
Another intense wave of pleasure rushes through me, starting from where we’re joined and spreading outward like wildfire. Down my arms and legs to my fingers and toes. Jon collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty and breathless. We stay like this for a while, until the world stops spinning around us.
He rolls off me and I hear the snap of latex as he removes the condom.
Holy crap. That’s what I forgot. Birth control. How could I be so careless?
Stupid, Ivy. Real stupid.
Thank God he had enough sense to use a condom, because I sure as hell didn’t think about it. I started up on the Pill again, but that was less than a month ago, so it’s not effective yet.
Something else tugs at the back of my mind. But like a vivid dream that vanishes when you wake up, it’s not clear enough to retrieve it.