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22
RICO
We fuck each other’s brains out four more times after that. After a short burst of panic when I ask her if she’s on birth control, which she thankfully is, I fuck her once against the wall, then bent over the dresser, and then one more time on the bed, and then once in the shower too.
When we at last collapse on her couch, after taking a second shower that actually involved washing off instead of me railing her against the shower wall, my body is utterly spent. And yet, in the past six years, I have never felt more alive than I do right now.
“That was…” Isabella begins, lying slumped on the couch beside me. “Some seriously impressive stamina.”
I let out a surprised laugh. Tipping my head to the side, I look over at her. “Likewise.”
A decidedly smug and proud smile plays across those soft lips of hers. And suddenly, all I want to do is to roll over and straddle her body again so that I can kiss her breathless once more.
Pain stabs through my heart.
God, I just want to stay in this moment for a little while longer. This moment suspended in time where she knows who I really am and I know who she really is, and we’re both aware that the other knows, but neither of us acknowledges it. This stolen moment where we’re real for just a little while before we go back to our fake lives and continue lying through our teeth with every word we speak.
Isabella is still staring up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with even breaths.
It’s dark outside the windows now, but light from the lamp above glitters in her eyes.
I stare at those eyes. Those eyes that both ended me and brought me back to life all at the same time.
Confusion flickers over her face, as if she can feel me staring at her, and she turns her head to meet my gaze. “What?”
And because I can’t bring myself to lie, not in this moment of honesty that we have stolen for ourselves, I reply, “You have beautiful eyes. I’ve always thought so. From the moment I first saw you.”
Surprise pulses across her features, and I can’t tell if it’s because of my words themselves or the fact that I was being completely honest when I said it.
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush slightly, and she glances away, as if she’s uncertain how to respond to that. “I, uhm… I’ve always considered them too noticeable for…”
She trails off, leaving the rest of her sentence unspoken. Reaching over, I place gentle fingers on her chin and turn her face back to me.
“I’ve always thought your eyes look like storm-swept seas.” I smile softly. “Wild and fierce. It suits you.”
Her mouth drops open ever so slightly while a whole host of emotions blows across her beautiful face.
And I suddenly realize that I’ve gone too far. I’ve said too much. Shown her too much. Given her too much honesty.
Letting my hand drop from her chin, I clear my throat and return my gaze to the ceiling instead. Next to me, I can feel Isabella scrambling for control as well. To get back to where we should be. Enemies who lie to each other with every word. It appears to go as poorly for her as it does for me.
Thankfully, before either of us can say something that we can’t take back, her stomach rumbles. Loudly.
She laughs. The sound is more relieved than embarrassed.
“Sorry,” she says, that casual note back in her voice again. “I guess I’m just hungry after all the… physical activity.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, me too.”
Abruptly sitting up straight, I rise from the couch and give the side of her knee a soft slap. “Alright, let’s go.”
She sits up too. Her brows pull together in confusion as she stares back at me. “Go? Go where?”
“You’ll see.”
“Or you could just tell me.”
“Hmm.” A sly smile tugs at my lips as I hold her gaze. “Or I could just handcuff you and put a bag over your head.”
