Ivory was ready in fifty minutes flat, having skipped dinner herself. She met Risk on the stairwell decked out in all the pearls he had purchased for her. More than all the other trinkets, she knew the pearls affected him. Her memory bore testament to the ferocious way he had attacked her clit when he had given her a pearl bracelet that was a perfect match for the ring. If she knew him as well as she suspected, the ring was just another one of those things that reminded him of her clit, and she exploited that fact by keeping it visible during their entire drive.
Her hand in her hair, smoothing it back. Her hand by her neck, rubbing the necklace. Her hand on her thighs, brushing off imaginary dust. Her hand by her mouth, smoothing the lines of her lipstick. And she watched as his eyes followed the ring everywhere it cared to go. She could see his eyes darken, but she wouldn't give him the pleasure. Not this time.
As they entered the ballroom all eyes turned to them, as they always did. More so to him, she wryly admitted to herself. She was just arm candy. Candy that would be replaced at first light.
No sooner had they walked through the archway than Risk left her side. Ivory was not surprised to see the tongues go wagging at this tidbit. She and Risk had developed a bit of a reputation in the past months. He was generally never far from her side. She would spend the whole night at any given event telling him to behave himself as his eyes devoured her flesh, his words tempted her to throw caution to the wind, and his hands set fire to her skin everywhere he touched.
Ivory stood there fuming, careful to keep her expression neutral. Her resentment was eating her alive and she nearly walked out right then, but as if by magic the crowds parted and she spotted Giancarlo. She headed straight for him before she could rethink the wisdom of what she was about to do.
Hips swaying, eyes glittering, heart pumping, Ivory zeroed in on her target.
Giancarlo watched Ivory approach. He wasn't surprised to see her here, but he was surprised to see her without Risk.
"Giancarlo," she said by way of greeting, her tongue rolling over the sound as if she'd like to have more than just his name in her mouth.
"Ivory," he returned, "Although without the presence of your solicitous protector I barely recognize you."
"Actually, we're not together anymore."
Giancarlo's eyes widened. He couldn't keep the surprise from leaking into his voice. "That's news to me. Risk didn't mention it."
"He can be surprisingly closed mouthed when he wants to be," Ivory concurred, none of the emotion she felt for Risk audible in her words. "Anyhow, would you care to dance?"
She flowed into Giancarlo's arms like a river of honey and he accepted her presence without another word. After dancing the Cha Cha for a few minutes, Ivory couldn't keep the excitement inside any longer. Dancing had always been a passion of hers and it released everything good in her.
Her enchanting presence and conversation began weaving its spell and Giancarlo was powerless to resist. Giancarlo laughed several times at some witty remark or another and as time wore on he grew more comfortable about dancing exclusively with Risk's ex. How Risk had let such a seductive treasure get away from him, Giancarlo didn't know. But Risk's loss was his gain, and he wasn't one to stand around and let the grass grow under his feet. He drew her into a very loverβlike embrace as the first notes of a slow song curled around them.
Ivory stiffened in his arms for a brief moment as she felt a flurry of panic, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. She was more so disappointed that she didn't feel even a flicker of the excitement she felt watching Risk walking into a room while Giancarlo was holding her close enough to slide into her body were they both naked. It probably went without saying that she would never recover fully from having made the tactical error of falling in love with someone who had paid cash for her body.
Moving closer into Giancarlo's embrace, Ivory rested her head over his heart and let the steady rhythm soothe her battered heart. She felt a punishing grip on her arm just seconds before her eyes collided with the glittering fury in Risk's. Her heart gave a tiny leap of pleasure before she stifled all such ridiculous emotions.
"Giancarlo," Risk greeted, not injecting the word with any of the warmth and desire Ivory had earlier.
"Risk," he returned, hardly daring to believe he was about to cross words with one of his closest friends. "This is a surprise."
"I should say so," Risk admonished, tugging Ivory's still form in front of him so he could curl an arm possessively around her waist.
Giancarlo's eyes zeroed in on that arm and accusing eyes clashed with Ivory's before going back to Risk's.
"I hadn't figured you for the type to make a play for my girl while my back was turned, but I guess I was wrong."
The ugly insult was not lost on Giancarlo and his frame went rigid with undisguised tension. "I apologize," his voice gruff. "I was misinformed about the status of your relationship." The note of accusation in his voice was back with a vengeance as his condemning eyes once again trapped Ivory's.
Ivory finally came to life again struggling to be free of Risk's parody of an embrace. "No, you were not misinformed. He has another bimbo all lined up to replace me first thing tomorrow! I was given my walking papers shortly after 6 this evening, so you see, I am free after all." This last was said with a decided sneer at Risk that he should dare to contradict her claim after the cold way he had dealt with her earlier. If he had had his way she would be out of his life already.
Ivory tried to calm herself as she noted the curious glances turned their way. It hadn't escaped anyone's notice that she had been dancing exclusively with Giancarlo for the last half hour or that she had been treating him as a bit more than Risk's friend. Her anger was quickly re-riled by Risk's next words.
"Well, it's not tomorrow yet, so I expect you to fulfill your role in my life until such time as you have been irrevocably replaced." He turned to Giancarlo after dropping that bomb in her life, "If you'll excuse us," and he stormed off without another word, using his grip on her arm to drag her after him.
The curious stares followed them all the way to the balcony and down the stairs. From there they became lost in shadows, but everyone inside was already imaging what they would be doing when they were alone, and correctly so.
They walked at a speed designed to cool Risk's agitation and rage, but it only served to irritate and tire Ivory out as she raced to keep up with him. When he finally released her at the edge of the garden far from the house, she let loose the frustration she had been feeling since his callous dismissal earlier. "Why the caveman tactics? You don't want me, so no one else can either?"
"If I had realized you were so desperate for a man tonight, I wouldn't have brought you out of the house at all," he smoothly returned, his eyes fixed on her heaving breasts.
"You say that as if you actually have what it takes to follow through."
"After months of me owning that sweet body I'm surprised you'd try to deny it," he rasped, his eyes finally lifting to her face, his hands taking control of her wrists, securing them above her head as he backed her against a tree.
"Yes, but all those months you didn't have a bit on the side like you do now," she retaliated. "I'd hate for you to waste some of that precious energy she is going to expect you to use on her. We can't have a playboy like you disappointing."
Ivory could have kicked herself for her deliberately inflammative comments, but Risk had a way of pushing her farther over the edge than she had ever been before. Her delaying tactics went far from the mark as she watched him push her dress to her waist.
"And you can let go of me right now you dog, because you'll get nothing else from me," she berated, twisting against his possessive hold.
His reply was to rip her panties from her and push deep into her hot flesh. Risk knew without a doubt that he was hurting her. Her clenching muscles had only possessed the slightest dew as he had pushed in providing next to nothing in the way of slickness to ease the force of his demanding length.
Ivory clamped her lips shut against the moan that would have sprang forth. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing he was hurting her. Closing her eyes, she cursed the day she had ever met him and spread her thighs further to allow him free access. Let him pound into her flesh until he spent himself and walked away. Good riddance...
Risk could feel the voice of reason calling his name, demanding that he take more time in claiming her, but his mind was locked with fury and jealousy such as he had never experienced before. Flirting with another man. Worse. Flirting with one of his closest friends. In his face. Challenging him. Refusing him. Not without punishment, not while he lived.
Snaking his hand behind her knee, he brought her leg up around his waist and held it there as his thrusts deepened, his passion nowhere near being assuaged. Ivory felt a slight flash of fire go through her pelvis and began to struggle anew. That's just what he wanted, she derided, to force himself on her and have her beg for it in the end. Then her humiliation would be complete. She couldn't allow it.
"The world must be coming to an end," she whispered somewhat breathlessly, hoping against hope that he put it down to her struggles and not the excitement she was trying to subdue. "I never thought I would see the day when a rich playboy had to buy his women and then rape them." Ivory knew her words were extremely inflammatory, but she didn't care. So long as they accomplished their task and made him stop.
Risk stilled above her briefly, before continuing his physical assault on her defenses. His hand released her thigh, giving Ivory cause to release a sigh of relief. Her respite lasted for only a moment though as her muscles tensed in renewed negation as his knowing finger moved to cover her clit.
Ivory's frame pushed harder against the tree trying to escape his caress, but there was nowhere for her to go, and that was what he intended. She fought the moan that rose in her throat, this time from pleasure, but she knew without opening her eyes that he could read her body with or without her giving verbal expression to her feelings.
"A very cute ploy," he derided, "But you'll never be able to cry rape from my touch and be telling the truth. Not when your body responds to mine as if it were made for it. Not when I can pull cries of joy from your mouth even while you think to refuse me."
Ivory turned her face away from his penetrating eyes, wishing she could close her ears to his taunting words.