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Mission: Hot Red Dress
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2024-07-27 13:26:19
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The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet A Month after.
A Month after. Ivory woke to a house that didn’t feel like it was holding its breath.Sunlight streamed through pale linen curtains, warm and welcoming. Somewhere in the distance, birds were arguing with squirrels, and someone—probably the butler—was humming off-key to himself. The air carried no tension, no sense of urgency. Just… ease.She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and padded barefoot down the hall. Her robe hung loose around her as she moved, hair still mussed from sleep. She expected to find Arlo and Marvin at the breakfast table—maybe scrambled eggs and too much juice, maybe a quiet morning with a crossword puzzle half-solved and a warm cup of coffee waiting.What she didn’t expect—Was noise. Laughter. The low hum of conversations and music. Voices she didn’t recognize.She turned the corner—and froze.The dining room, the hallway, the entire open floor plan had been transformed. Balloons floated from every corner, soft gold and ivory tones. Flowers—fresh, wild, sun-drenched—
The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet Mini you
There was something strange about returning to Oviedo.Ivory felt it the moment they crossed the county line—the way the wind shifted, softer somehow, the way the sky looked flatter, more forgiving. The roads curved like they were remembering her. But nothing else did.The house was still white with olive-green shutters, still hidden behind an overgrown fence and a rusted gate Arlo never bothered to replace. But it was quieter now. No voices barking orders. No men in tailored suits leaning against blacked-out cars. No weapons tucked beneath armrests.Just birds. Just wind. Just… peace.Ivory stood on the porch longer than she meant to, Marvin’s small hand gripped in hers. The boy vibrated with curiosity, tugging toward the door like it held magic.“You used to live here?” he asked.She nodded. “Just before you were born...”Now? It was something else. Not better. Not worse. Just… changed.Inside, the air smelled different too. Less like cigar smoke and steel polish, more like laundry
The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet Under the cactus pot
Willis didn’t mean to go back that soon.He told himself he’d wait until Friday. Give it a few days. Let things settle. But the quiet in his apartment stretched too wide, and the idea of her—the chaos of her, the warmth—was louder than his self-control.So on Wednesday evening, just after dark, he found himself outside her door.He hadn’t even texted.The spare key was exactly where she said it would be, tucked beneath a tiny cactus in a blue ceramic pot. He hesitated only a second before using it.The apartment smelled like incense and lemon, soft and lived-in. Jazz was playing from a speaker in the kitchen—Coltrane, maybe. Something that meandered, low and longing.“Hey,” she called from down the hall, casual, like she’d known he’d show up. “You’re early.”Willis smiled to himself and slipped off his coat. “I’m always early. I just never show it.”Liv walked into his view in nothing but a robe and that lazy, dangerous smirk he was already addicted to. Her eyes dragged over him like
The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet Trauma sex appeal
Willis woke up with sunlight in his eyes and a soft ache in his body.The sheets around him were tangled, still warm from where she’d been. Liv was gone. The room hummed with leftover heat and echoes—clothes scattered like evidence, air thick with the scent of last night.For a moment, he didn’t move. He just stared at the ceiling, trying to remember the exact moment her mouth met his throat, the way her laugh caught in her chest right before she whispered his name into his skin.His heart thudded, not from regret—but from a low, humming awareness of how long it had been since he felt anything that close to pleasure. Since he stopped performing, and just wanted.There was music playing from somewhere in the apartment—soft, old soul, Marvin Gaye or something close. The scent of coffee drifted under the door, warm and grounding. It could have been romantic, if either of them were in the mood for that kind of lie.He sat up and found his shirt slung across the lamp.When he walked out, s
The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet Liv
Willis hadn’t meant to go out.He’d planned on staying in, maybe working through the stack of unread books on his coffee table or reorganizing the spice rack he didn’t really use. But the apartment felt too still, the kind of quiet that echoed. And he couldn’t stop wondering what Ivory was doing.So he went out. Just for a drink. Just to prove to himself that he still knew how to be in the world.The bar wasn’t loud, which helped. Exposed brick, amber lighting, and something soft playing through overhead speakers. A woman in the corner was reading a poetry book aloud, half to herself, half to a man who looked smitten.Willis chose a spot at the bar. Ordered something smoky, which he didn’t finish. He scrolled through his phone out of habit. No messages. Nothing from Ivory. Not that he expected it.Still.She was everywhere. In the way he glanced at the door like she might walk in. In the way his chest tightened when someone laughed in a way that almost sounded like her.He closed his
The Billionaire’s Wrong Pet Where it all began
Arlo didn’t ask anything else.He waited at his door in sweatpants and a tee, like he hadn’t expected her but had been waiting all the same.Ivory stood in his hallway, arms wrapped around herself, barely breathing.He opened the door wider.She stepped inside.The apartment smelled like cinnamon and coffee—something warm. Something safe.He didn’t touch her.She didn’t ask him to.They sat on the couch like they were made of glass, the silence stretching out, comfortable and impossible.Ivory stared at the floor.“I saw him,” she finally said. Her voice was thin, papery.“I know,” Arlo said softly.She looked up.He hesitated. Then reached for his phone on the coffee table, turned it so she could see the screen. A message was still open.Willis: Take care of her. Don’t hurt her again.Beneath it, another.Willis: You got what I wanted. Please make it worth it.Ivory blinked. “He texted you?”Arlo nodded. “About an hour ago.”Her throat burned. “Did you reply?”“No.” He set the phone
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