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Chapter Three
Isabel
August 2nd…
Perfect. That’s what Parker is.
After learning he was a novice at intimacy, as was I, we stopped talking because we didn’t need to. We let our bodies do it for us. And holy hell, it was like a sonnet or something.
His mouth played me like an instrument and made me sing my pleasure for all to hear and uncaring if they did. Let them know that my world was being rocked. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the news reported an earthquake happened at the same time.
He brought me to the brink not once, but twice before letting me soar over it. Then, as I was riding that high, I dimly heard a tearing noise, felt Parker’s fingers brushing against my still pulsing clit, and he was inside me.
I barely felt my virginity tearing, the need revving back up overshadowing it as Parker began moving. Thrust, withdraw, thrust, withdraw. My claws dug into his skin on the entrance and released on the exit. My legs wrapped around his waist to try and force him to stay there, my body bereft without him. Even now I swear I can feel him. As if he’d internally marked me.
We used half the condoms from the box he’d purchased the night before. When I’d joked it was awful presumptuous on his part, he’d wiggled his brows and sheepishly admitted he hadn’t expected anything to happen, but he’d been hoping it would.
I’d thanked him for thinking ahead with my mouth, though no words were spoken with it. His, however, panted my name, along with a few curse words, as I gave my first blow job ever. I’d feared that I was doing it wrong, but the proof of his happiness had slid down my throat, telling me otherwise.
It felt fitting that we shared that, too.
In fact, we made a numbered list of all the things we want to try prior to returning to our respective homes. After we do them, we’ll cross them off. He labeled it count the ways.
Which is why I’m currently in my room, already dreading saying goodbye.
I’m falling for Parker, yet we both have implied this, us, has a deadline.
So, I’m pulling on my metaphorical big girl panties and enjoying the time we have. Later, when it’s over, I’ll let the tears come at knowing I let the love of my life slip through my fingers without a fight.
**Parker**
I can’t do this. The thought alone of going home and never seeing Isabel again is painful. It steals my breath, hurts my heart, and makes my stomach want to revolt.
I want to nail down that this relationship is not the fling we’re pretending it is, demand we move in together – I don’t even know where she lives, and slide a ring on her finger. But I can’t. I don’t know if she feels the same or is glad this is only temporary.
And I’m scared to ask.
I don’t want to be the idiot that fell in love on vacation, believing he found his forever, only to realize it isn’t returned.
So, I’ll take comfort in the time we have, make all the memories with her I can, and use them to get me through the rest of my days.
I know that she’s it for me, but I have to let her go.
