Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

Suddenly, I hear a woman’s voice in the background, and I tense, my heart slowing. Has he had company this whole time?

My voice is flat when I say, “Sounds like you’re also in the middle of something.”

His response shocks me. “You think I’m about to fuck the woman you heard in the background?”

My heart picks up. Jealousy floods my body. “That’s not my business.”

“Relax, Ivy, that’s just my very old and very frail assistant Fran.” He sounds amused. “She’s reminding me I have a meeting in the next few minutes.”

“Oh.” I feel like an idiot. I want to crawl in a hole and disappear.

He laughs. “I’ll let her know her youthful voice rattled your feathers.”

I roll my eyes. “They didn’t rattle my feathers, Aidan.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m very sure.”

“Another lie.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He’s infuriating.

“Even if I were lying, Aidan, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He chuckles. “Wrong. I’d punish you so hard right now, Ivy.”

“Punish me how?”

“You don’t want to know,” he warns. “You really don’t.”

“What if I do?”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he curses, his voice growing lower. “I’d punish you here in my office. I’d call you Miss Montcalm and bend you over my desk and worship the fuck out of you.”

I swallow hard, trying to calm down. My heart is racing. “There’s that word again, Aidan. Worship.”

“You expect me to tell you I’d fuck you hard? No, Ivy, I’d worship you first. Your body needs more than to be filled with my cock. Come on, baby, I may be arrogant, but I'm not completely selfish.”

I shake my head to myself. Stop talking, Ivy. No more. But my body is zipping with excitement. I feel lust pooling at the pit of my belly.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” he says sharply.

I clear my throat. “Sounds like you really need to go.”

“Not so fast, Ivy, I need to know something first.”

“What?”

“I need to know I’m getting to you.”

“Getting to me?”

He drops his voice again. “You wet, Ivy?”

My lips part in surprise. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest right now.

“I’m hard,” he whispers now. “Fuck, Ivy, I’m so hard just hearing your voice. I’m bursting. Tell me I’m not the only one feeling like this.”

“I think you already know,” I whisper back.

“Tell me yes.”

“You want me to feed your ego.”

“No,” he groans. “No, Ivy, this isn’t about that.”

When I don’t immediately respond, he asks, “Are you wet for me, Ivy?”

“Yes,” the word escapes me in the tiniest voice. I wince, shocked at my response.

“Good,” he responds, sounding satisfied. “Do me a favor and take care of yourself. Don’t let anyone enjoy what I’m responsible for.”

He means don’t have sex with Derek? Oh, God. I’m just about to tell him he has no need to worry about that, but he beats me to it, saying, “Gotta go, Ivy.”

“Okay.”

The second the line goes dead, I sag into the pillows, letting out a long, trembling breath.

*

A hand runs over my body. I respond to the touch, still feeling wired from the call with Aidan. I pretend he’s touching me, pretend he’s whispering in my ear, asking me in person if I’m wet for him.

“Ivy, darling.”

I open my eyes and Derek is over me, smelling like alcohol, looking drunk and needy. The apartment is silent. I look around in the darkness, realizing I’ve fallen asleep along the way.

Derek’s fingers move under my pants, his touch frantic. He feels for my core. Instant repulsion runs through me. I immediately move away, pushing his hand off me.

“No, Derek,” I tell him.

“You’re in my bed,” he replies.

“Because everyone was on the couch –”

“Sleep with me.”

I slide away from him and move to the other side of the mattress, forcing myself to wake up. I’m so tired.

“Ivy.” He’s pawing at me, grabbing me by the arm. “I’m going crazy, Ivy.”

God, I wish it was Aidan saying those words to me right now. I can pretend, perhaps. I shake my head. What’s wrong with me?

“No, Derek.” I’m standing now and moving away. “I don’t want to.”

“We’ll feel better after, Ivy –”

“I’m not burying our problems with a fuck, okay?”

He watches me, glowering now. “What is it going to fucking take, Ivy? Maybe you should be drinking too, huh?”

I just look at him, scoffing. “Wow, did you just tell me to get drunk so that I’ll have sex with you?”

“If it makes us feel like a couple, yeah.”

“No, Derek, fucking while I’m drunk won’t magically make us feel like a couple again.”

“What are you saying?”

“This isn’t working between us –”

“Fuck off!” he suddenly hisses. “I’m not hearing this bullshit right now.”

“What bullshit?”

“You’re talking rubbish.”

“I’m not.”

“Fuck off, Ivy.”

“We can talk about the separation if you want –”

“I want to fucking sleep. That’s what I fucking want. Unless you want to fuck me, fuck right off.”

I shake my head slowly and start to leave. Just before I get to the door, I pause and glance at him one more time. “You’re getting worse, Derek. That poison is turning you black.”

He throws his clothes off and swings at the lamp. It crashes to the ground, and I take that as my cue to leave.

The apartment is a bombsite. I spend the following hour cleaning everything up. I open the windows to air the place out. Then I put a fresh sheet on the couch and collapse into it. I run a hand over my face. I have never felt more like running away than right now. I want to leave everything behind. Forget about the lease. The rent. The bills. The countless responsibilities I have tethered myself to just by being in this fucking apartment.

I only start to calm down when I think of Aidan’s voice.

His words.

Are you wet for me, Ivy?

I slip my hand to my core and run my fingers through my folds, shuddering at the immense pleasure that bolts through me. Fuck. I draw circles around my clit, trying my hardest to envision his face. Imagining him saying those