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“I’m not—”
“And given I got you off twice now, you owe me one,” I taunt and smile as she gasps loudly.
“I do not,” she snaps but then bites her lip, appearing unsure.
At first, I figure she’s doing the math. Only then does something occur to me, and I sit bolt upright. “Fuck. You’ve never given a man a blowjob, have you?”
“I...I’ve...I’ve done hand jobs.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“And you’ve never sucked a guy off?” I ask again, as her face turns bright red.
No way.
Isabelle stares at me with hate and shame, and suddenly, I realize I’ve made a bunch of assumptions about her. She’s far more innocent than her original flirty smile displays.
While I’ve been distracted keeping her safe in the Garcia mansion and craving another taste of her, I never took a moment to find out who she really is.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isabelle cries and then spins away, storming across the room and slamming the bathroom door behind her.
I stare at it for a minute, wondering what I’m missing.
Did her previous lovers not like their cocks in her mouth? I’ve heard some guys don’t. Or maybe she doesn’t like it.
Either way, I was teasing, and I need her to know that. Whatever her reasons for not doing it, they’re her own. Plus, thinking about her fucking other men is making me antsy.
Which is weird.
I run my hand over my face, feeling my bristles from not shaving for a few days. We need to get packed up and leave. There’s still about fifteen hours of driving left and Isabelle doesn’t know it, but I have plans for us tonight.
Dangerous plans before we leave Mexico, even though it’s a calculated risk. I’m willing to take it.
When Isabelle finally opens the door, I walk to her and cup her face. “I’m sorry.”
She nods and lifts her shoulder.
“Hey.” Those eyes look up at me. “It’s none of my business. And it was a joke.”
“Okay,” she says softly, then we fucking kiss.
Like lovers making up.
As we part, our eyes averted, and I mentally shake my goddamn head as I go take a shower.
A cold one.
Which is useless as I end up gripping my cock and jerking off, imagining her on her knees as she takes me in her hot mouth.
She wants me; I know she does. I know when a woman is primed and ready for fucking. But I won’t push her. If she says no, then it’s no.
When I step out of the bathroom, I smell food. Isabelle has ordered room service, and she watches TV as I pick at a plate of nachos and sort through my weapons and the contents of my backpack.
“How much money have you got in there?”
