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She couldn’t help her whole body going tense as he finished pulling her jeans off her legs. Oh God, this was a bad idea.
She wasn’t a new Isobel.
She was the old Isobel. She always would be. Miserable and insecure and fat and—
“Hey, you okay up here?” Hunter’s big hand gently peeled one of hers away from her face. His handsome features were creased in concern.
“Fine,” she squeaked.
Oh God, the super-hot guy was seeing exactly what a disastrous freak she was. Not that he knew the half of it. There was probably an arrest warrant out for her in New York at this very moment.
“We can stop.” His hand cradled her cheek. “There’s no pressure here. We can do whatever you want.”
His eyebrows had dropped low in concern. “Do you want to stop?”
He moved to withdraw his hand but she grabbed it and held it to her face, turning her head and dropping a kiss on his palm. This was the first thing that had felt good, that had felt right, in months. “I don’t want to stop.”
It only came out as a whisper. That was all she could manage at the moment. But she didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to be the old Isobel.
She lifted up from the ground and pulled his face down to hers. As soon as his lips touched down she felt the spark that had been doused by her obsessions fire back to life. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the kiss.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in between kissing her lips and up her neck to her ear. “So fucking beautiful.”
Isobel automatically frowned. He sounded earnest. For a moment, though—just a moment—she could almost believe him. His words were perfect. He was perfect.
Her eyes still closed, she took his other hand and pushed it past her belly and down to her sex. As soon as his fingers made contact, immediately circling and teasing her clit through the thin fabric of her panties, she gasped and arched into his touch.
After just a few moments, he pulled away. Isobel dared to open her eyes and was rewarded by seeing Hunter pull his own shirt off over his head. Her breath hitched. He was muscular in a normal-guy way, not like he hit the gym for hours a day. Like those were the kind he got by doing regular hard work. Isobel imagined him lifting bales of hay and carrying heavy equipment around all day.
She didn’t have long to just stop and stare, though, because almost immediately, he dropped and his mouth was back at work kissing his way down her stomach from just underneath her bra all the way to— Her breath hitched when he got to the top of her panties.
Oh God, he wasn’t going to…?
“Wait,” she squeaked, pulling her legs together and to the side when his tongue darted out along the top seam of her underwear. “You don’t have to do that.”
But when Hunter looked up at her, there was a devilish grin on his face. “I want to.” He leaned in and buried his nose in her crotch. “Fuck, do you know how good you smell?”
Isobel felt her cheeks flood with heat. Did he really think— Was he serious or just trying to—
He pushed her legs open wide and lowered his head between them. She was about to object again, but then that wicked tongue of his was back at work, right where her thigh met her sex. She squirmed and her legs started to draw back together but he easily pushed them apart again.
One of his fingers teased underneath the seam of her underwear, running along her swollen vulva and dipping ever so slightly inside her. She cried out at the sensation.
Somewhere in the back of her head she imagined herself like a beached whale, flopped out in the middle of Hunter’s living room floor like this, her flabby legs spread so wantonly. But every other part of her brain was consumed with firing neurons of pleasure.
He pushed aside her underwear and his tongue teased along the path his finger had just traced. But then he pulled back again. He was driving her so freaking insane. She didn’t recognize her voice as she reached down and buried her hands in his dark brown curls. “Hunter, please,” she begged. “Please.”
“Please, what?” he asked, and she could feel the warmth of his breath through her damp panties. As close as his face was, he had to be drenched in the smell of her arousal.
“Touch me.” She couldn’t help the whining quality to her voice. But she couldn’t stand any more teasing either.
His hands grabbed her inner thighs just above her knees and he started massaging up toward where his tongue continued its torture. “I am touching you,” he said.
Her hands fisted in his thick hair. “Touch my…” She swallowed. God, was he really going to make her say it? “Touch my cunt. Lick my cunt.”
His hands squeezed her thighs and he buried his face in her sex at her words, breathing her in and biting at her pussy.
She cried out, almost coming on the spot at the contact after so much teasing. He dragged her underwear down over her hips. She lifted her butt off the ground to help him and he had her panties halfway down her thighs the next moment.
