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“I don’t want to repeat it,” I tell her, rubbing my nose against her brow.
“If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”
God damnit, she’s not wrong. We’re sitting here discussing having a better, more upfront relationship moving forward and I’m here denying her the answer to one of the first questions she asks. Why do I even care if she gets upset with him anyway?
Because I don’t want her to hurt.
“He said you were the best pussy he’d ever had and wanted to know if you were teaching me the things he taught you,” I say softly.
“Of course, I’m the best pussy he’s ever had,” she agrees, but I hear the dismay she tries to hide. “Fuck that guy, though.”
“You did,” I say with a groan.
“Do you really want to have a conversation about our past sexual partners,” she asks me, turning in my arms and raising up to her knees. “There are other things you could be doing with that mouth. Much more interesting things.”
“What did you have in mind, Cole?” Instead of answering me, she digs her hand down the front of my sweatpants. Finding me bare beneath, her face alights with heat. Her forwardness is surprising, maybe even concerning, but I’m not capable of telling her to stop. I want to be inside her every time I see her.
“Kiss me.” A demanding Isla is a wet dream. Matching my energy is something she always did, but going toe-to-toe with me in bed, not as much. She used to always let me take the lead there.
“Why me,” I ask her the question she asked me when I was desperate for that first date.
“What?” She pulls back an inch, blinking through the lust that had started to skew her vision. Her fingers still fondle me as I rapidly harden.
“Why me? What is about me that has your hand down my pants, Isla?”
“Why not you?” There is perturbance and defiance written all over her face. She doesn’t want to admit that she likes anything about me. I get it, but she’s going to have to get over it quickly so we can get to the fucking she’s asking for.
“Cole,” I warn. She huffs in return.
“Fine, since we’re being all honest and shit,” she relents. “The way you are with Sadie is really fucking attractive, for one. Defending my honor, or whatever the fuck you boys were up to is also much sexier than I’d like to admit. But mostly…”
“Mostly what?”
“I missed you. How easy it was to be myself with you, how unjudged and supported. You didn’t mind that I was different than most girls, or that I get obsessive about weird things. My temper never turned you off, in fact you were always so amused by it that I’d settle down quicker. I was at ease with you, until I wasn’t at all anyway. You understood me and it wasn’t awkward. I never felt that way with anyone else. Before or after you, no matter how hard I tried. Even after Tyson and I had dated for months, we were nowhere close to that type of comfort.”
“You do not get to say another man’s name while your hand is wrapped around my cock.”
“Is there something more interesting I could be doing with my mouth, too?”
“Fuck, yes,” I say with a grunt because she runs her thumb over the head of my dick, picking up the precum that her words encouraged. “You need that dick to shut you up?”
“Mmm,” she purrs. “Or that mouth.”
Her lips ghost along my own, a warm tongue darting out to taste my lower lip. I trap it between my teeth, halting all her movements except those talented fingers. She hums again, and I release her.
“Kiss me,” I mimic her. “Kiss me sweetly, Isla.”
“I don’t want sweet.”
“Too fucking bad. Kiss me sweetly and then I’ll fuck you roughly.” A gasp escapes her mouth, and the apples of her cheeks darken slightly. Dirty talk is new for her. Her kiss starts slow, tentative even, at the edge of my mouth and working inward, and soon, we’re two tongues fighting for dominance over one another.
My hands roam over her body until I can’t take anymore of her clothes. I dive beneath and feel her skin twitch at the excitement of my touch.
“Strip,” I whisper over her jawline. “Right fucking now, Isla. I need that pussy on my mouth.”
She wastes no time complying to my demand. Doing the same, our clothes quickly become nothing but a pile on the floor. This time, standing in front of me, is the same confident woman I used to know. She’s not hiding what she thinks others will see as a flaw. She’s showing me everything, and she’s so beautiful I want to fall at her feet and beg her to lock me down forever. I’m never going to want anyone but her with those wild curls and that stubborn attitude.
Isla always saw her hair-trigger temper as a flaw, but to me, it was the hockey in her. It only made me love her more.
