9: The Things I Could Do To Her

BRANDON.

Being with Amari in that locker room was enough to drown out everything else. Every thought, every lingering frustration, every name that wasn’t hers.

And damn, did she know exactly what she was doing.

For the rest of the school day, I let myself be pulled into her perfect smile, the effortless charm, and the attention I was getting from her being by my side.

That is, until closing time.

Amari and I parted ways with a kiss, and I made my way to the car. I slid into the backseat, barely sparing the driver a glance. Draping my arm lazily over the headrest, my eyes scanned the lot out of habit.

Then I saw her.

Ivy.

She was walking across the lot, towards the car, head lowered slightly, arms folded tightly around her books. But that wasn’t what made my jaw tighten.

It was who she was with.

Demi.

The same annoyance from earlier, the one I had shoved to the back of my mind, came rushing back like wildfire. For some reason, I hated seeing them together. Hated the way Demi walked too close, the way his hand casually brushed her arm as he talked.

And Ivy—something was off about her.

It wasn’t just that she looked annoyed or uninterested. No, she seemed fidgety. Like her body was too tense, her shoulders too rigid.

Why the fuck did she look like that?

My fingers curled against the seat as I looked away from her and leaned forward slightly.

“Drive.”

The driver hesitated. “Sir, what about—”

“I said, drive.”

The engine started and the car pulled away smoothly, leaving Ivy behind. She was none of my fucking business anyway. She could find her way to the house.

Once I arrived home, the rest of the day dragged on, and I locked myself in my room, drowning out the world with music and the occasional texts from Amari.

I worked out until my muscles burned, showered, and tried to focus on anything other than the irritation crawling under my skin.

But the image of Ivy with Demi wouldn’t leave my head.

And for some reason, it pissed me off more than it should.

Evening had come, and I had to get a snack to munch on. Throwing on a loose T-shirt, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light.

And nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaited me. I stopped abruptly in the doorway, my pulse giving an unexpected lurch.

She stood at the counter with her back to me, dressed in nothing but a pair of tiny denim shorts, and a thin top that hung off one shoulder and did absolutely nothing to hide the smoothness of her skin.

Her hair was roughly tied into a ponytail, and she was standing on her toes slightly as she reached up for a glass.

My heart, and something else, skipped a beat as I took in the sight of her. Her slender frame, her ass perfectly hugged by those tiny shorts and her hair. The things I could do to her with that hair tied up like that.

Fuck

I felt a surge of anger. Anger at her and her mother for invading my space, and frustration at whatever the hell this feeling was that I refused to name. At the fact that she could make me feel this way with just her presence.

Why did she have to look like that?

And why did it bother me so fucking much?

I cleared my throat, louder than necessary, causing Ivy to startle slightly, nearly dropping the glass in her hands. She turned, her eyes widening when she saw me standing there.

“Oh. It’s you.”

I forced my expression into something unreadable.

“Who else would it be?”

She frowned but didn’t respond. Instead, she turned back to the sink, filling her glass with water.

My eyes flickered over her again before I quickly looked away. I hated this. Hated whatever reaction my body was having.

Hated the heat curling in my stomach.

I scowled. “You should put on some damn clothes.”

Ivy stiffened slightly but didn’t turn around. “I am wearing clothes.”

A scoff escaped me. “Barely.”

She huffed out a breath, taking a sip of water before setting the glass down. “It’s late. I didn’t think anyone would be awake to complain.”

“Well, I am.” my voice came out sharper than I intended, irritation lacing every word.

I didn’t even know what I was angry at anymore. Her, myself, or the fact that the moment I had seen her, Amari had completely disappeared from my mind.

Heck, that was the best blowjob I'd gotten in a while and that's something I shouldn't forget just like that. Something I shouldn't forget because of her.

Ivy finally turned to face me fully, crossing her arms. “Then don’t look.”

My jaw ticked. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

She raised a brow at me and I stepped forward slightly, arms folding across his chest.

“That pathetic stunt your boyfriend tried to pull at lunch today should never happen again, Ivy. Keep your dumb boyfriend out of my sight.”

Her expression flickered for a second—something unreadable flashing across her face before she masked it.

“Demi isn’t dumb.”

A cold, humorless laugh escaped me. “Right. That’s why he has you running around like his little pet.”

Her fingers curled against the counter. “You don’t know anything about me and Demi.”

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “Whatever. It's none of my business. My business is that you don’t forget the ultimatum.”

Ivy’s brows furrowed slightly. “What?”

I stepped back. “Get your fucking mother out of my house.”

“Brandon, you know that's out of my power.”

Two long strides closed the distance between us, and I seized her arm, my fingers sinking into her soft, warm flesh. A shiver ran through her, and I felt it travel straight through me like a spark. She was trembling—afraid. And God, it was intoxicating.

I yanked her closer until our bodies were flush, my chest pressing against her delicate frame. Her breath hitched, and I could feel the frantic rise and fall of her chest against mine.

The scent of her fear mixed with something sweeter, something uniquely her, and it made my pulse pound in my ears. I relished the way she tensed, the way she tried to shrink away while knowing she couldn’t escape.

My grip tightened, and a thrill surged through me at the thought of all the things I could do to her right now.

Break her. Mold her. Own her. I could mark her skin, and make her remember this moment forever.

Would she whimper if I dragged my fingers lower? Would she cry out if I bit into that trembling throat?

The images flooded my mind—her on her knees, her body surrendering beneath mine, her lips forming my name in a desperate plea.

I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear as I whispered, my voice thick with hunger and control.

"Do you understand me, Ivy? You will do as I say, or there will be bloody consequences."

A small, shuddering breath escaped her, and for a moment, she didn’t answer. My patience was razor-thin. Then, finally, her voice came, barely more than a whisper.

"Y-yes…"

Satisfied, I let go abruptly, watching as she stumbled slightly, her wide eyes locked on me.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked away.