Page 9 of Wicked Love

Lust dripped from her gaze.

Her pupils were fully dilated now, her eyes appearing black.

Her lips were swollen, and gone was her lipstick.

Her tits were a handful, and her hips screamed for me to hold on to her, demanding I punish her for hours to come.

My dick thickened inside my fist, leaking at the tip, and I kicked off my pants and removed my shirt in record time.

“You’re a wet dream,” I said, stalking her like a hunter after his prey, my gaze focused on her and my mouth watering. “You’re gorgeous. And mine for the night.”

Starving for her, we tumbled on the mattress in a jumble of limbs, our hands busy traveling all over each other’s bodies.

I flipped us over until I could hover over her, staring into her eyes.

Isla propped herself up on her elbows, her mouth desperate for mine. It wasn’t passion we shared, but a desperate need. Something to give us a break from the shit-show of our lives for a little time.

In one slow stroke, I lodged myself between her thighs, relishing the moist heat coating my cock.

My lips crashed down on hers, bruising them, making her whimper.

Meeting me thrust for thrust, I lost myself inside her, forgetting about the rest of the world.

“Harder,” Isla purred, and I delivered, ramming into her with everything I had. Until we both climbed over the edge and fell on the other side, spent and satisfied.

With a sheet covering her naked body, she moved to her feet once we both came down the rush. “Mind if I shower before I go? It’s a thirty-minute drive to get home, and I wanna feel fresh when I see my mother. She tends to be judgmental. If she thinks I’ve been out, she’ll go batshit crazy. I would prefer to avoid poking the bear.”

I shook my head. “Go ahead. I get it. I got into an argument with my dad earlier. That’s what put me in a sour mood. He’s being an idiot, and he refuses to see it. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only adult in this relationship.”

She stood by the bed, nodding. “What does your mom say?”

I clamped my nape. “She died. A few years back. My dad is now dipping his dick where he shouldn’t. I’m tired of saving him from himself.”

“That sucks. My parents are divorced. I don’t remember my dad.” She rocked on her heels. “My mother is a lot. I can’t wait to be out of there and spread my own wings. I’m tired of her belittling everything I do. My body, my clothes, my choices, my life.” She flicked her wrist. “Anyway, I’ll shower and get out of your way.”

Without another word, she entered the bathroom and clicked the door shut after her.

I was right earlier. This girl hid between dark clothes and makeup. It was a shield, an armor. She was protecting herself until she was ready to be her own person.

Jumping to my feet, I knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey Isla, wanna spend the night?”

I blinked. What was I doing? I was so out of my element here. I never invited girls over if I didn’t have to. And yet something about her, call it vulnerability, made me want to hold on to her for a little longer. I was sure she needed the affection too.

Dressed in one of my T-shirts, she slipped under the covers and nestled against my side. My arm wrapped around her, and before I could think about what I was doing, I kissed the side of her head.

I had no idea what it was about Isla that called to every part of me, but I recognized a loneliness in her that matched mine. As we lay together, a new sense of calm invaded me. And I felt better than I had in a long time. Thinking about it, I couldn’t pinpoint the last time I’d been at peace.

Soon my body grew heavy, and I drifted to sleep, holding the girl dozing in my arms a little tighter, not ready to let go of her.

When I woke up the next morning, ready to face my father, Isla’s perfume still lingered on the sheets, but she was gone. And for a short moment, after what she told me about her mother, I was worried about the girl I knew nothing about.

2

GRACE

“Grace, no. You can’t dress like this. Go and change, or we’ll be late again. Please put on something that doesn’t make you look like you gained fifteen pounds in the last week.” My mother brought her hand to her forehead. Yeah, I was exhausting her, and yet I had done nothing but put on the little blue dress I bought last summer. Even so, it was still wrong. “And while you’re at it, wash your hair. It looks like you haven’t done so in two days. Two days, Grace. This is inappropriate. Even for you. Gosh, you’re going to bring me to an early death.”

Early death.