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And just like that, the sweet, tender, caring side of him is gone. He pulls my boxers back up and surprises the fuck out of me when he leans over my body and kisses me sweetly, letting me taste myself on his tongue. "Better?" he murmurs against my mouth.
I nod. Though I'm not totally sure if what happened earlier will happen again, it's unlikely since I took my meds. He kisses me again, stands, and pushes me to get under the covers.What is happening,my brain asks. I follow his silent directions, getting comfortable with my hands braced behind my head as I watch him wearily. He steps into the bathroom to wash his hands before moving to quickly turn off my bedroom lights.
I expect him to say nothing. To leave quietly without a word, the same way he entered. So, when he crawls into bed next to me, I damn near screech in shock. Not wanting to draw attention to his strange, albeit exciting, behavior, I act normally.
My room is pitch black with the custom windows that we had installed. They are bullet, fire, and explosion-proof, but they also have the ability to black out completely with the press of a button. It was one of the features we all agreed on since the three of us are light and or shitty sleepers. Right now, I'm both thankful and irritated with the darkness that surrounds us.
I can't see him at all, but I know where he is. I can feel the heat radiating off of his body next to mine even though neither of us makes a move to touch one another or speak. The silence is surprisingly not heavy. This is the first time we've slept together except for that one night with Violet, but that was different. Over the last few months since then, when we finally took things from flirtation and longing to something wholly new, our relationship has begun to evolve, if only in private.
I don't know what we are. We haven't defined anything but neither of us has even attempted to broach that topic either. In my mind, I call him my boyfriend, because to me, that’s what he is. After we finally crossed that threshold, took our relationship to the next level, I somehow convinced myself that it had changed everything. And maybe it did, just not in the way I imagined.
The step we took that night was massive, for both of us, but for Zac, it was akin to hurdling the Grand Canyon. While blindfolded, naked, and in front of all your enemies. In his mind, it was dangerous and terrifying, which is why I haven't pressed him about it.
Since then, we've shared many nights like this one. We find comfort in each other, hook up, and then go our separate ways. We haven't fucked, yet. We've gotten close but for whatever reason, it just hasn't happened. Again, I'm not pushing him into anything he's not ready for but shit, after months of nothing but make-out sessions, some light ass play, and mutual blow jobs, I'm ready.
So damn ready.
"You good?" he murmurs, his quiet words yanking me out of my head and back to the present.
Deciding I'm done with the space between us, I slide my arms out from beneath my head, turn onto my side facing him and prop myself up onto a hand. Only leaving a few inches between us, I give him a moment to adjust, or object, to the proximity. When he says nothing, does nothing, I slide my other hand onto his chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath my palm.
Isaac is muscular, cut, and lean. Violet described him as having a swimmer's body and I'd never heard a better name for the way he looks. He's beautiful. His body brings me to the brink of distraction frequently, like now. "Yep," I answer, popping thepas I pinch his nipple piercing and give it a tug.
He growls, the sound feral and yet adorable, but he doesn't move my hand or push me away. Instead, he shifts his body closer to mine. I respond by sliding my hand further to wrap under his side where I grip his body and pull him flush into me, aligning our bodies fully. Now with him so close and my eyes adjusted to the dark room, I can make out his face. His eyes widen fractionally at my aggressive move but again, he says nothing.
Bending down, I reward the small step he's taking by planting a soft, gentle kiss on his sweet mouth. His lips are firm but full, and the need to bite them, suck them into my mouth, powers through me, but I ignore it. As much as I want to touch him, kiss him, suck his cock and fuck him, I don't want to push for too much too fast, not when he's trying so hard to get past his fears. Pulling my mouth away, I keep him locked into my side while I stare down at him, admiring his beauty.
Perfect.
We sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other's quiet comfort before I finally voice what's been running through my mind. "Did you mean it?" I pause, gathering my thoughts and hoping this doesn't make him close down. He looks at me and arches a brow. Licking my dry lips, I try again. "You think about her? About that night?"
He sighs and pushes my hand away and for a moment, I'm afraid he's going to retreat. That I'm going to lose the ground we gained tonight. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest, bracing itself for his dismissal. But then, he flips onto his side facing me and mirroring my position. He places one hand under his head and braces the other on my hip. His thumb begins to move in idle strokes while he thinks.
"Yes, I meant it. I think about that night all of the time. I don't know if it's healthy or wise but I do, regardless." He shrugs the best he can in this position, and I can't help but reach back out and run my fingers across his chest as I turn his words over in my head.
"You think about that night, or you think abouther?"I don't know why I have to know. Why I have to make that distinction clear for my own purposes, but I do.
He grinds his teeth causing his jaw to flex side to side as he looks away from me. I understand his hesitancy. To admit that a woman who was supposed to be nothing more than a fuck is still on his mind months later, it means she has power over him, whether intentionally or not. Power is not something that Isaac gives up, no matter what. Not even to me. The fact that this man willingly drops to his knees for my pleasure, is beyond shocking but a gift I will never abuse.
That's one of the reasons we work together so well. I'm happy to be tied up and hand over the reins but he is not, and I doubt he ever will be.
He jerks a nod, still not making eye contact with me. I give him the reprieve, the illusion of privacy. "Her.”
One word.
Three letters.
It shouldn't mean as much as it does. It shouldn't fill me with joy. It shouldn't make me feel relief.It shouldn't.But it does.
Right here, in the dark silence, that one uttered word means everything. It means I'm not crazy. It means I'm not obsessed or ridiculous for thinking about her still, for feeling what I feel. It means that I'm not alone in this.
More than that though, it means that what I want, what my gut has been shouting at me to do, won't come as such a shock to them, tohim,when I finally do it.
Because as difficult as it was for Isaac to admit that he still thinks about her, it means that he still wants her. It means that when I go after her, when I plead our case, when I beg her for another shot, Zac will be on my side.
Convincing Renz to let her into our world, our circle, will be hard but I'm up for the challenge, especially now. Two against one are good odds.
I grin into the dark rooms as steely resolve settles in my bones.
