Page 52 of In League with Ivy
Her head jerked back. “No.”
I shrugged. “We’re not Hollywood stereotypes.”
“So are you telling me if a girl came up to you with big boobs and removed her clothes, you wouldn’t be aroused?”
I shrugged. “Depends. I mean, if I hadn’t been with a girl for a while, then maybe. But I like your tits. More than a mouthful’s a waste.”
“You’re an enigma,” she said.
“Why, because I don’t like big tits? Especially fake ones?”
“Mm…” She leaned toward the mirror, applying lipstick.
I stood behind her and rubbed her ass. “I love your body, Ivy. You’re perfect. And I like this”—I touched her lips—“and this”—I tapped her head.
“Thanks.” She tilted her head. “For liking me for my body.”
“I like you for more than your body.” I smiled. “I can’t get a hard-on around brainless girls, no matter how pretty they are.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows gathered. “Intelligence is more likely to give you an erection than a sexy body?”
I shrugged. “I need both. Together. However, Jane Austen would probably rock my boat.”
Ivy chuckled. “She’s dead.”
“I know that.” I rolled my eyes. “But Elizabeth Bennet was pretty sexy, I thought.”
“You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?” Ivy looked like I’d just admitted to kissing a corpse.
“Well…” I smirked. “I saw the movie.”
She tilted her head. “Which version?”
“The classic version, of course. With Laurence Olivier.”
She looked impressed. “Really? I haven’t seen that version.”
“I’m a TCM fan. Love black-and-white movies.”
“I know. Especially war movies.” She faked a yawn. “Boring.”
“No, they’re not. We need to be reminded just what our great- grandfathers fought for. We’ve never had it so good.”
She nodded slowly. “You’re right. Thanks for saying that.”
I fluttered my hand like Errol Flynn in Robin Hood. “Why, thank you.”
Ivy giggled.
“Let’s go and get something to eat, and then I can introduce you to my parents.”
“Will I be introduced as a friend or as a girlfriend?” She cocked her pretty head to study me.
“Both. I want us to be exclusive.”
Her startled expression would have been my response once. But with Ivy, going exclusive felt as natural as enjoying a sunset.
“What?” I asked.
“We hardly know each other.”
“I know more about you than any other girl I’ve ever met.”
She remained wide-eyed.
“You’re not interested in taking this further?” I asked.
Shaking and nodding her head at the same time, Ivy continued to appear perplexed. “Okay. Girlfriend it is, then,” she said with a faint smile.