"How was the visit with the boyfriend yesterday?" he asked finally. He’d been thinking about it since the moment he left her doorstep the previous night. The source of this content ɪs novel⦿fire.net
"He was just stopping by."
"You tell him I almost fucked you two days ago?" Winn asked, his lips curving into a wicked smile. His eyes glittered with mischief, catching hers for a moment before focusing back on the road. He wanted to know if she thought of him when she was with that man.
"Uh... no," she answered, heat rushing to her face. "Because it is none of his business, and for the sake of our professional relationship, I think we should keep that little detail to ourselves."
Winn chuckled low, a rumble that vibrated in his chest. Damn straight it’s none of his business.
Ivy turned her gaze toward the city lights streaking past the windows, pretending to study the storefronts glowing in the night. But her mind wasn’t on Manhattan; it was on the hand on her thigh. The way his thumb was moving, lazy circles that grew smaller and smaller .
Her throat went dry. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t exactly turn to him and say, Oh Mr. Kane...you delicious hunk of a man...could you please finger fuck me right here in the car? But God, she wanted to. She squeezed her knees together to keep from shifting under his touch.
She was a hot mess, she realized—her entire body reduced to a live wire in just a few days.
The car glided to a stop before the awning of the restaurant on Central Park. Ivy’s breath caught as soon as she realized where they were. Mina’s was the fine-dining spot. She had assumed this was a simple dinner date.
Her chest tightened in panic as she glanced at her reflection in the car window—her little black dress suddenly felt too simple, her heels too modest.
"I don’t think I’m dressed for this place," she whispered, turning sharply to Winn.
"Come on," Winn drawled smoothly. "You look good enough to eat." His gaze slid over her body in a way that made her skin flush, a look that said he fully intended to devour her if given half the chance.
Before she could argue, the valet was at her door. They exited the car. He handed the keys over to the valet.
Inside, Mina’s was as intimidating as Ivy feared. Ivy clutched her clutch a little tighter, trying not to feel small. Winn, however, was in his element. His hand slid easily to her lower back as he approached the hostess stand, his deep voice confirming the reservation.
They were led past hushed tables and low laughter until they arrived at a table where Joey and his wife Diane were already seated. Joey rose immediately, clapping Winn on the shoulder. "Hey man... what took you so long?"
"Traffic," Winn said simply.
Ivy turned her head slightly, her lips curving in a secret smile. Liar, she thought. She knew exactly why they were late. He had dragged his drive, savoring every stolen moment with his hand on her thigh.
"Diane, how was the vacation?" Winn asked, turning his attention politely to Joey’s wife.
Diane gave a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Well deserved," she said crisply, adjusting the bracelet at her wrist. Diane didn’t like Winn—anyone who’d been in a room with her could tell. In her eyes, Winn Kane was pompous, arrogant, selfish, and far too accustomed to getting his way.
Also, she thought he worked her husband to the bone, keeping Joey tethered to his phone even during their so-called vacations.
Ivy felt Diane’s cold assessment hang between the table. Her cheeks warmed from the awareness of Winn’s thigh brushing hers beneath the tablecloth.
"Joey, you remember Ivy," Winn said smoothly. "Ivy, this is Diane, Joey’s wife."
"Splendid to meet you," Ivy said with her most polite smile, extending her hand across the table.
"I like you," Diane said abruptly, her eyes sparkling. She tilted her chin toward Winn. "Him? Not so much."
"Sorry to hear that. If he weren’t my boss, I’d probably be honest about my feelings too."
Winn smirked at her, a slow dangerous curl of lips. She’d thrown the tease back without missing a beat. Diane, too, seemed to soften, her tight edges loosening into a genuine smile. "Well then, we’ll get along just fine."
"So, you work at House of Kane too?" Diane asked.
"Yes, ma’am," Ivy answered automatically, trying to keep the right balance between professional and personable.
Diane’s hand flew up, her laugh genuine this time. "Oh no, stop the ma’am nonsense. Just call me Diane."
Ivy smiled. "Diane it is then."
They talked about the Winsfords’ vacation to the Maldives, Diane’s words rolling in with equal parts nostalgia and exasperation. "It almost felt like Winn went on the trip with us too," she teased, stabbing her fork into her salad.
"He was calling Joey all the time about some work-related nonsense. My husband spent more time whispering to his phone than he did whispering to me."
Ivy’s lips curved despite herself, glancing sideways at Winn. He raised his glass, clinking it gently with Joey’s. "You’re welcome," he said.
The table burst into laughter—even Diane. "Pompous as always."
Their food arrived. The wine loosened Ivy’s shoulders, and soon she found herself laughing along with the group, the earlier nerves fading.
Winn, she noticed, was different here. Still commanding, yes, but lighter, more charming. He asked about Joey and Diane’s love story, leaning back in his chair as if genuinely interested. "So tell Ivy how you two met. I remember him saying he swept you off your feet."
"Oh please," Diane rolled her eyes. "He was hardly the smooth man he pretends to be now."
Joey laughed, his arm slipping easily around Diane’s shoulders. "And she still said yes when I asked her to dinner. Guess I did something right."
Their laughter tangled with the soft music drifting through the restaurant. Ivy looked at Winn and saw him smiling. She realized he was watching Joey and Diane as if he were measuring their happiness.