Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 307: I Won’t Argue With That

So very them.

She stepped away from the window just as a knock sounded at the door.

She crossed the short distance to the door, her pulse already racing, and opened it. The moment the door swung inward, he stepped into her space and lifted her clean off the floor, his arms wrapping around her. His mouth found hers in a kiss that was urgent, desperate, and achingly familiar.

Ivy laughed against his lips, breathless, but the sound melted into a soft gasp as the weight of him, the warmth, the scent she knew too well, flooded her senses. It felt exactly like she was his drug, and he’d gone too long without a dose. Weeks of restraint, distance, and pretending evaporated as he nudged the door shut with his foot, never breaking contact, his kisses trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down the sensitive line of her neck. His hands roamed with hunger in equal measure.

"God," Winn breathed when they finally paused, both of them slightly unsteady. "I missed you." He let out a low, pained sigh. "Why didn’t I come up with this idea?"

Ivy smiled, her fingers still curled into the fabric of his shirt. "Because I’m smarter?" she teased lightly.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "I won’t argue with that. Not tonight."

Ivy pulled back just enough to really look at him—at the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Reality crept in, unwelcome but persistent. "So... I heard what happened," she said carefully. "Tom killed Sharona?"

Winn groaned, tilting his head back. "Can we... can we not do that yet? Can we fuck first?"

She laughed and smacked his chest lightly.

He sat down on the sofa and tugged her with him, settling her easily onto his lap. One hand stayed firm at her waist while the other moved to her shirt, fingers undoing the buttons.

Time before the truth.

Time before consequences.

Ivy could feel the storm behind his eyes—the things he wasn’t saying, the things he couldn’t.

Inside, Winn was already bracing himself. He didn’t want to talk about Sharona, about Tom, about what he’d set in motion and how far it had gone. Because once he started, he’d have to admit that the truth wasn’t neat or clean. It was ugly.

And worst of all—it might change the way Ivy looked at him.

So for now, he focused on her warmth, the way she fit against him, the way her presence steadied him.

Just for tonight, he wanted her laughter, her touch, her love.

Tomorrow could deal with the mess.

"But why would he do something so careless? It doesn’t make sense. He—he had everything to lose."

Winn, however, was lost in the electric friction between them, paying attention more to the way her body responded to him than her words. His fingers worked with urgency, unhooking her bra and cupping her bare breasts, feeling the warmth of her skin and the soft gasp that escaped her lips. He leaned forward, letting his mouth brush the sensitive swell of her chest, teasing her with slow, attentive kisses, each one a promise he couldn’t yet voice.

"Do you think he helped her escape for some reason?" she asked.

"Okay, babe, this is emasculating," Winn whined, lifting his head to look at her face with a mock pout. "Could you pay attention to me?"

Ivy chuckled softly. "Sorry," she said. She felt his lips return to her chest. She arched toward him instinctively, letting him claim her skin with his mouth.

"Wait! I gotta tell you something," she said suddenly.

Winn groaned. "Fuck it!" he muttered, tugging her shirt aside with a determined tug, letting his fingers wander again, teasing her nipples and eliciting a soft moan. He pressed closer, whispering against her skin. "Babe, I have no idea when I’m going to see you again. I gotta take advantage of these quick getaways."

"I know," she murmured, leaning into him, letting herself be held as desire and affection clashed within her.

"What’s wrong?" Winn asked finally.

"Nothing is wrong," she said softly. "It’s just...remember when we went to Canada?"

"Yeah..." he replied, his patience fraying just slightly with need, yet his voice softened, threaded with memory and longing. He tugged her shirt free once more, letting his fingers find the sensitive peaks again, gently tugging, teasing. His lips trailed from her chest to her neck.

"Well..." Ivy said. She felt the heat of Winn’s body pressing against hers, the steady, taut pulse of his heart vibrating through her chest as his mouth worshiped the curve of her other breast. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer, drawing him in. "I’m...pregnant," she whispered.

Winn’s body became taut as a drawn bow, every nerve firing at once. He lifted his head, eyes wide, searching her expression, his heart hammering in disbelief. "You...you’re serious?" he asked.

"I wanted to wait until all this...mess...was over," Ivy said, swallowing hard as her. "But it just seems...impossible."

Winn’s breathing slowed, the initial shock giving way to an overwhelming tidal wave of emotion. His hand left her breast and came to rest gently on her stomach, fingers splayed. His eyes traced the curve of her belly. "I...uh...shit..." he muttered, burying his face in the crook of her neck, pressing her closer

"Winn?" Ivy asked again, seeking, pulling him back from the storm inside him. His hand remained on her stomach.

"Did I...did I break you?" she asked.

"Uh...no...no!" he stammered, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m...Jeez...I can’t...shit!" He threw his head back against the sofa,.

"Winn...talk to me," Ivy urged softly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, her hand tracing the lines of his jaw, her body melting into his.

"I’m happy. I...God, I am," he said finally. "It’s...like being given a second chance. To do everything we missed with Elizabeth, all over again. But fuck! I just want this dark cloud hanging over us to disappear. I want to be a father, a husband to you, and not...not constantly fighting."