by Lisa Lace
Lucas and I are out at a restaurant to celebrate my first radio interview. The atmosphere is low-key and easy, the wine is flowing, the food is good, and I am completely content.
“When I left your father’s label, I thought I was giving everything up. Who’d have thought we’d be sitting here only a few months later at the start of something wonderful?”
“I always said you were destined for great things.” Lucas smiles. “You never needed Fox Records. What you needed was a stage. I knew as soon as people heard your voice they’d be captivated.”
I let out a sad sigh. “I wonder what Jane’s doing.”
“Don’t think about it. It’ll only upset you.”
“I haven’t heard anything from her since ‘Salt, Tequila, Lime.’”
“And I doubt we will.” Lucas shrugs. “That was her choice, though, Ivy. You don’t need to feel guilty.”
Jane’s record came out a month ago. The song was a party track about doing shots. I saw the music video, and it made me cringe. Jane was wearing a pair of latex booty shorts and a top that was no more than a bra, grinding up against topless men on a dance floor and licking tequila off people’s stomachs. She goes by the name of Savannah now.
“Do you think ‘Roots’ will be a one-off?”
“No way. You’re here to stay, babe.”
Babe. I smile when he calls me that. The other big change in my life has been my relationship with Lucas. Since leaving Fox Records, we’ve only grown closer. Time in the recording studio has been followed by romantic dates and hours and hours of talking. I’m head over heels for him.
Dad loves him, too. He only had to work with Lucas for a few weeks to realize he was nothing like his father, and now he treats him like the son he never had.
“Dad has had the radio on nonstop since the song hit the air,” I say with a smile. “And I haven’t seen him have a drink in over a month.”
“That’s great news.”
“He’s got his mojo back. He’s started walking around malls and busy commercial roads in his free time to listen to buskers. I know he’s on the lookout for the next big thing.”
“I’m glad,” Lucas says. “I want the label to grow. I hope your dad does find some others to join our little family.”
Family is the right word. Everyone at De Novo Records is always laughing and joking around. Of course, I’m the only artist so far. I wonder what it’ll be like when others start pouring in.
“I hope you and Dad manage to keep the vibe the same when it gets bigger,” I say. “I’d hate for it to get competitive and nasty like Fox Records.”
Lucas shakes his head. “That won’t happen. We won’t let it. More importantly, your dad won’t let it. He has a vision for the label, and I know he’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure nothing changes that. He keeps telling me about how he wants his artists to be dignified.”
“Good old Dad. It’s good to see him back to his old self. I haven’t seen him like this in years. He’s happy.” I catch Lucas’s eye. “And it’s all because of you.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re the one who made the decision to walk away from Fox Records. That’s what started this whole thing off. You stood your ground, had integrity, and refused to be compromised. You’re the one who set us on this path.”
“It took all of us,” I say. “I’m glad we’re in this together. Everything’s perfect.”
After dinner, we go back to Lucas’s. I love that there’s no pretense or secrecy anymore. I’m free to follow Lucas anywhere.
We settle in Lucas’s living room—probably my favorite place in the world. I sit in the chair next to the bulldog lamp and curl up on the seat. It feels like home here, among the books and records.
“What are you doing all the way over there?” Lucas asks. He sits down and pats his lap. “Come and sit with me.”
I happily skip across the room and bounce onto his lap. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. I giggle as he smothers me with kisses.
“You were amazing at the radio station today,” he tells me. “You sounded so smart. Your voice is so sexy on the air.” He kisses my neck.
I plant my lips on his and kiss him with raw passion, running my fingers through his hair. “You think so?”
“Every time I hear your song playing, I think about how I get to come home to the woman that voice belongs to. I’m a lucky man.”
Playfully, I undo the top button of his shirt and rest my palm on his bare chest. “You’re about to get luckier.”
He cups my face and kisses me with even more heat, hesitating before letting me go.
“Hmm,” I sigh. “I love that.”
“How would you like me to draw you a nice warm bubble bath? We can end a spectacular day with an even more spectacular night. I’ll bathe you, make love to you, and then bathe you again.”
“I like the sound of that,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Another kiss keeps us from our plans a little longer. I pull his suit coat off his shoulders and drag it down his arms. Letting it go, I feed my hands across his chest, feeling his muscles through the soft material of his shirt. I work the buttons while my lips play with his. We take small steps toward the master bathroom, discarding articles of clothing as we go. By the time we reach his oversized tub, we are in nothing but underwear and jewelry.
He turns the faucets on, adding bath gel to the running water. I watch it fill up and foam with bubbles, letting him caress me from behind. His chest feels good against my back. His fingers fumble with the clasp on my bra, and within moments it falls away. I turn toward him and pull his body to mine. Just before I reach up to kiss him, my foot slips out from under me and my tush lands in the tub, splashing water everywhere.
He chuckles and offers me a hand. I pretend to be embarrassed and try to climb out, but instead I yank him forward and he tumbles in on top of me. I erupt in laughter as he stands up, his boxers clinging to his hips. He splashes me and squirms over me, tickling my ribs until I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
He strips his boxers off and drops them to the floor in a wet mess. I toss my panties out, too. He grabs me, pulling me to him and pressing into me, his cock already protruding and begging for attention.
I glide my hands across his hardened stomach and feel my chest constrict with the idea of him inside me. My fingers move down, wrapping around his member. I love the way it feels between my hands as I stroke him. I watch his face when my fist encircles the tip, moving repeatedly in a pattern around and up and down.
He gasps, and I smile.
When he looks down at me, I swallow with anticipation, then I move toward him, my tongue twirling around the head of his cock. I hear his breath catch as I open my mouth and slide my lips down around him. I lower myself farther until he fills my mouth, and I tighten my lips around him, sucking his shaft and feeling liquid collect in the back of my throat.
I pull him out and swallow him down before taking him back into my mouth, my hands cupping and grazing his sack. The warm water creeps up my body, and the bubbles tickle me as I move back and forth causing him to moan and push into me. I pull back and graze the sides of his shaft with my teeth, stroking him a few more times before sitting up.
He pulls me to him, kissing me hard. His hands move over my breasts, down my stomach, and his fingers push into me until my hips are moving back and forth with each stroke he gives me. I put my foot on the side of the tub as the water, now almost to the top begins to slosh out onto the floor. He leans forward and slams the faucet until the water shuts off and the bubbles surround our bodies. We kiss hard as we grope and slide our bodies together wildly. The mirrors are fogged over, and the only sounds are loud, hungry kisses and sloshing water, with the occasional moan or sigh.
“I want you so bad,” I gasp through heavy kisses. My hands grab his body as I desperately pull him toward me. “I could crawl up inside you and stay forever.”
“Hmm,” he groans. “Come here.” He steps out of the tub, his body dripping
with bubbles and glistening with water. He hoists me over the edge and sets me down on my feet, leading me to his bedroom. The cool air hits me, making me shiver.
“What about our bath?” I tease.
“Fuck our bath. I want you.”
He collides into me, pushing me onto the bed and crushing me with his weight as he kisses my neck, licking the side of my chin and devouring my lips. He kisses me hard as he pushes my legs open and enters me without a moment’s hesitation. His ass moves relentlessly up and down on top of me, and I feel him fully engulf me, stroking me from the inside out.
My body catches fire, and I am breathing hot and heavy as he fucks me.
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
He pushes into me, increasing his pace, thrusting harder each time. I gasp for my last breath, holding it as waves of pleasure crash down over me. He slams his cock into me once more and joins me in the waves of ecstasy.
He lowers himself onto me, breathing hard into the mattress, his hands still holding mine. He lets them go, sliding his arms underneath me, and pulls me over as he rolls onto his back, still inside me. He looks at me, his hands framing my face and smoothing my hair away repeatedly as if he is stroking me.
“You look different,” I tell him, looking into his eyes. I feel what he feels.
“I just don’t want this moment to end. Each time with you is incredible. I can’t explain it.”
“Try.”
I bite my lip in anticipation as he pushes into me again, moving slowly back and forth. His hands stroke my chest, encircling my breasts. I feel his thumbs on my nipples as he rolls over them, arousing me again.
He strokes me, his body moves perfectly, his cock moving in and out of me. Out of the blue, my arousal quickly elevates as his hand lowers between us. His fingers move down to my clit, and he circles it slowly as he continues to fuck me.
“I don’t know where this is coming from,” I say breathlessly. “I feel like I’m going to….”
I force the air from my lungs as his fingers circle my clit and his cock fucks me, slowly. He never picks up his speed. He just concentrates on my body and the way I am moving, loving me accordingly and staying in tune with me. A soft orgasm envelops me, and I gasp as a wave flows through me. It wasn’t mind-blowing, but it was full of love and tenderness.
He lies next to me, his arms encircling me and pulling the blanket up around us. I feel safe, in love.
Lucas
Eight p.m., and I’m lying in bed with the sexiest woman in the world. The fastest up-and-comer in Hollywood.
Ivy sits up in bed with the covers over her knees. She’s reading a magazine, letting out a happy little laugh when she sees her own name in print. She stamps her feet up and down on the mattress in excitement.
“I thought Dad was kidding when he said I was in here. But here’s my name—look!” She turns the magazine to me and points out her name.
I kiss her forehead. “Plenty more to come, babe.”
I’ve never felt more content than I am in this moment. Life with Ivy is on another level. Since leaving Fox Records, I’ve gotten to see the best of her. She’s happy, passionate, and full of life. She’s always laughing, always singing to herself, being playful. I’m different when I’m with her—I laugh, too. Christ, I’ve even caught myself singing her songs from time to time. I’m a less stressed, more down-to-earth, and easier going version of myself. I’m a better man.
She looks beautiful right now. She’s wearing nothing but the covers over her lap. Her long blonde curls fall over her shoulders. She pushes them out of the way when she turns the page. There’s a little smile on her face as she reads.
“I love you.” I say it instinctively. She’s heard it before, but I mean it now more than ever. In this moment, she’s everything. “I’ve fallen for you, hook, line, and sinker. I want you to move in with me.”
Ivy’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really. I’ve got a mother-in-law apartment on the grounds where your dad could stay.”
Her eyes brim with tears. “You even thought about him?”
“Of course. I’ll always take care of him, just as I’ll always take care of you.”
“Aren’t all Hollywood romances doomed to fail?” She hugs her knees to her chest and bites down on her lip. “I’m kind of scared we’ll jinx it.”
I cross the bed toward her and kiss her softly. “We’re not most people. Haven’t we already proved we break the mold?”
“And what about Skid Row? Wouldn’t I come across as a massive hypocrite if I left?”
“No. You’re not tied to anyone or anything. You’re Ivy Evans. Wherever you look, you’ll find something meaningful to write about. You can’t end your journey before it’s begun because you’re scared people will judge you. You can still advocate for Skid Row from here. Maybe even better.”
Ivy lifts her head and looks around the room. Her breath catches in her throat, and she swallows. “I know I’m here all the time, but I still can’t picture living somewhere like this. I’ve been in that cramped little apartment with Dad for so long. This is like a fantasy life.”
I kiss her cheek, then nuzzle into her neck and kiss her throat. “I can imagine it,” I say playfully. I scoot up close to her and wrap my arm around her waist. “I can imagine waking up every morning with you right here in this bed. Then, I make you breakfast. We get ready, and I smile because you’re singing in the shower. We go and make some beautiful music, then come home, together. We order some takeout and eat it while listening to Johnny Cash or Joni Mitchell. You bring a few of your oddities, and we’ll mix your kooks with mine until we’ve created our own little world right here.”
“I love you, Lucas.” She threads her arms around my neck and kisses me tenderly.
I hold her close to me, squeezing her slim body in a tight hug. “Then say yes.”
“Yes.”
I’ve waited seven months, and I can’t wait anymore. After ten months of Ivy being my girlfriend, I’m ready to make her my wife.
Living together has only made me more certain Ivy’s the one for me. She’s a ray of sunshine. Everything’s brighter when she’s around. Things don’t stress me out as much. She’s the missing piece, and I want to make her mine. Forever. I have it all planned out.
“Are you excited for tonight?” I ask her.
Ivy beams. “Of course I am. I haven’t been to Alibis since the day we met.” I finish zipping up her dress, and she flips her hair back around and shakes it out. “I’m so excited for Bradley.”
Bradley is one of Greg’s recent discoveries. He’s been working with the studio for the last eight weeks, and he’s going to be huge. He’s got a voice that’s a cross between Bob Dylan and John Lennon. It’s about the most soothing damn sound I’ve ever heard. But tonight I have something different planned for him.
I drive to Alibis, and as I lead Ivy into the bar, I’m holding back a smile. She has no idea.
I exchange a nod with the emcee as I enter. He grins, knowing he’s part of the plan. The light guy gives me the thumbs up. Everybody is prepared.
Bradley meets us, and the three of us sit at a table just in front of the stage. We talk for about an hour until the emcee announces the first act and the lights dim. A few times, people come over to ask Ivy for her autograph. She talks with them, takes some pictures, and politely signs her name, but she does so as discreetly as possible—she doesn’t want to steal anybody’s thunder.
“When are you playing, Brad?” Ivy asks him, leaning across the table to whisper.
“Last.”
“Ooh. Good luck. You’re going to crush it.”
There’s a mixed bag onstage tonight. Some real standouts and some who are merely pleasant enough. Overall, the standard is high, so we’re enjoying ourselves, and by the time Bradley takes to the stage, I’ve almost forgotten why I’m here.
When the first bars of Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” start up, it hits me hard. This is it! I try to keep a straight face. I d
on’t want to give Ivy any idea of what’s going to happen next.
I lean in toward her. “I’m going to get another drink.”
She holds on to my arm, looking pointedly at the stage and Bradley. “Right now?”
“I’m dying of thirst.”
“Be quick—you’re going to miss his big performance!”
“I’ll be right back.”
I smile as I slip away. Ivy’s eyes are glued to the stage. Bradley sings uninterrupted until the last chorus. That’s when the emcee hands me a mic, and I step onto the stage.
Jesus Christ, how do they do this? The light guy swings a spotlight on me, and I’m blinded. I can’t even see Ivy past the glare.
“I think I wanna marry you…” Bradley stops singing, and the volume of the music is turned down.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee announces, “someone here has a little something he’d like to say tonight. Lucas Fox, everybody.”
The spotlight softens, and a second picks Ivy out of the crowd. I raise the microphone to my mouth. I catch Ivy’s eyes. She looks speechless, and she covers her mouth with her hands. She’s finally realized something’s going on.
“I was sitting right there the first time I laid eyes on you, Ivy Evans. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and you sounded like an angel.” My heart is beating so fast I think I might pass out. “Since then, I’ve learned you’re even more incredible than I imagined. You’re principled, strong, courageous, creative. You’re funny and kind. You’re the most loyal woman I’ve ever met.
“I’m a better person when I’m with you, and the life I’ve built with you has made me happier than I ever thought possible. You make my life a wonder, and I want to spend every single day of it with you.
“Ivy Evans, will you marry me?”
She’s so stunned she can’t move. Glued to her chair, she simply nods as happy tears spill down her cheeks. It takes Bradley pulling her up to get her out of the chair, then she runs into my arms, and we kiss in front of a cheering crowd.
“Yes, Lucas! I’ll marry you.”
