AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Come with me, baby.” Bordeaux slows his pace and looks into my eyes. He lowers my legs and eases his body back down onto mine, finding his slow-paced rhythm again as he thumbs my clit. It’s too much, both the feeling of him inside me and his thumb on my most sensitive area. I reach up, pulling him into me, digging my nails into his back and claiming him for myself. “Fuck yes, come with me, Isla,” Bordeaux says again as we both come undone, together.
Twenty-Nine
Bordeaux
Zemblanity (n.) the inevitable discovery
of what we would rather not know.
___________
Euphoric.
It’s the only word that comes to mind when I think about sex with Isla. It wasn’t the same as all the other times with all the other women. It was so much more. It wasn’t just two people fucking. This felt like for those moments in time, our souls became one. It was everything I imagined it to be and so much more.
Isla Robles is a goddamn drug, and I can’t fathom how any man would ever let her go. But I’m so fucking glad they did because I think this woman is going to be the one who saves me.
I stroke her hair as we lay tangled up in each other on the floor of the studio, our clothes, blankets, and pillows everywhere.
“I can’t even explain how I feel right now.” Isla’s the first to speak after we were both left speechless. “It’s like no words compare to what we just did, B. None.”
I nod, turning on my side to face her, my eyes roaming over her naked body. She has just the right amount of everything. I want to trace her curves with my fingers, memorize her entire body so I never forget how perfect she looks in this moment.
“I thought having you tonight would cure this deep guttural need I have for you. That it would help me go out on tour and be fine leaving, missing you but at least being able to have that taste of you I talked about.” I shake my head because I was so fucking wrong. “But this just makes every single inch of me crave you endlessly.”
Isla rolls on top of me so I get a clear shot of her large, perfect breasts. Her light nipples are a beautiful contrast to her golden skin, hard and so fucking sexy. I can’t help but take one into my mouth. She arches her back, pushing herself into me more as I roll my tongue over her, flicking it back and forth, tasting her now salty skin from the magnitude of what we just did together.
I pull back, unable to control what I’m about to say next, “I want to know everything about you.” The thought just swept into my mind, and I needed to say it because I do, I want to know everything about this woman. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”
Her shoulders stiffen and I know she’s already had a thought cross her mind, but I can tell she isn’t sure if she wants to tell me. It makes me even more intrigued. I have to be at a meeting in the morning, but I’ll stay up all night if it means I can learn more about her.
“Your question earlier. The craziest thing I’ve ever done. I wanted to tell you something but it’s hard to talk about. And it’s not even like I chose it. It’s just… it just happened. I don’t talk about it with anyone,” she says, leaning away from me and looking away. “But I don’t know how deep we’re trying to get here.” She laughs but it’s not her usual laugh—it’s rigid and short—and immediately, I’m on guard.
“You can tell me anything, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you aren’t ready to talk about whatever it is you’re thinking about, you don’t have to,” I say, not wanting to taint this night with Isla growing uneasy.
She nods, draping a blanket around her shoulders. I want to tear it off her body so I can see every part of her, not ready for her to be covered up, but something in me screams that this blanket is about to be a sense of security for her.
She shifts, still on top of me, but wriggling until she’s more comfortable. I bring one hand to her hip, stroking her soft skin, and my other hand goes around the back of my head to prop me up more on my pillow.
“I’ve been in therapy since I was fourteen.” She looks at me and then down at my stomach. “When I was fourteen, my friend and I were walking home from school when a man pulled us into his car. He made us get onto the floor of the vehicle, told us we wouldn’t get hurt if we just cooperated. My friend Cynthia and I did as we were told. I was shaking so badly I felt like I was going to pass out, and she’s the one who kept me calm. She rubbed my back and whispered that we would be okay, that she wouldn’t let anything happen to us.” Isla pauses and I sit up, causing her to lean backward a little.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to tell you this.”
I nod, pulling her into me to softly kiss her lips.
“He brought us to a shack in the woods, just outside the city. I have no idea what his grand plan was, but he chained us up in a room. He messed up, though. One of my cuffs didn’t click tight enough, and I was able to get my right hand free. Cynthia’s were both so tight she could barely even move her wrists. She talked me through pulling my left wrist free, but I broke it in the process. By that time, my adrenaline was so high, I barely felt it. I was so worried he would walk in and see me trying to get out of my cuffs that it’s all I could think about. I didn’t even know I had broken it at the time.” She pauses and I bring one hand to her cheek, rubbing my thumb against her skin. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “There was a window in the room… I still remember Cynthia saying something along the lines of him being an idiot. How easily we could escape if we weren’t chained up the right way. How stupid he was for not double-checking and how he must be new to this whole kidnapping thing. I remember her laughing when she said it under her breath. She remained so calm the entire time while I was a mess. She knew we were going to get out. I got free and she told me I had to run and get help, but I didn’t want to leave her. I felt like there was no way I could go out that window without her, but she told me it was the only way. So, I did. I left her. I ran. I got help. But by the time help got there, it was too late.”
Tears silently stream down her cheeks, and I wipe them away.
“The man had murdered her and then took his own life. To this day, I don’t know if this was his plan all along, or if me running set all of that into motion. But I will never forgive myself for leaving her.”
No words are going to ease the pain we’ve rehashed for her. But I try, despite it all.
“It’s the reason I don’t let people close to me, you know? Not that anyone would want to be my friend after what I did to Cynthia. But I don’t deserve friendship.”
I can tell she isn’t looking for sympathy. She really believes she doesn’t deserve friends. And that’s heartbreaking.
