Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
He rolls them between his fingers as that dark gaze lifts back to mine, a knowing glimmer flashing in his stare. “Interesting . . .”
Hooooly fuck.
Humiliation slams through me like a fucking wrecking ball, and I snatch them back faster than lightning. I shove the wristbands right back into the bag, feeling the blazing blush burning across my cheeks. “Is there something you need?” I ask, doing my best to recover, but let’s face it, there’s no recovering from that because suddenly Izaac Banks doesn’t just know that I had sex with a stranger in a club, but that stranger took my virginity—at twenty-fucking-two years old.
Just fucking great.
His dark gaze lingers on mine, every passing second seeming to suck the oxygen right out of the air around me. My stare drops to the space between the door frame and his body, wondering if I’m small enough to slip through and make my escape, but his hand shoots out and comes to my chin, gently lifting and forcing my gaze back to his.
A moment of heated silence passes between us when he narrows his stare, instantly putting me on edge. “You’ve really been able to hear me through the wall every time I’ve gotten off over the past . . . fuck, I don’t even know how long?”
Shit.
It’s one thing being drunk and bold enough to admit such things in a text, but having to actually talk about it face-to-face with the man I’ve been in love with my whole life? Fuck, I am not even a little ready for this conversation, but judging by the demanding stare in his eyes, I don’t think I have an option.
I feel my cheeks begin to flame, but I refuse to let it eat at what little confidence I have. Instead, my lips twist into an awkward cringe. “I was hoping that you were too drunk to remember anything that went down last night.”
Izaac scoffs, amusement dancing in his eyes. “No chance in hell,” he murmurs, keeping his tone low in case Austin decides to wake anytime this century, but he doesn’t dare look away, holding me captive with his stare alone. “Answer the question, Aspen. How much have you heard?”
Nerves pound through my body, paralyzing me while knowing I don’t have the guts to be as forward as I was with him last night. Things have shifted. For some insane reason that I can’t even begin to work out, Izaac is noticing me in a way he’s always refused to in the past. All the winking and subtle touches. The way he moved in behind me in the pool yesterday and at the club last night. I felt his stare on me all night, dragging hungrily up and down my body as if he only just realized that I’m no longer a scrawny teenager.
What if this is my chance? I can’t afford to fuck it up. But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m reading into this too much and imagining things that simply aren’t there? I could seriously fuck up the dynamics between us, and not to mention Austin. If he even heard a whisper of what went down last night, my world would crumble at my feet.
Deciding I can’t risk letting this opportunity slip through my fingers, I step over the threshold of the bathroom and right into Izaac’s personal space. Keeping my chin lifted, I hold his gaze and lower my voice to a seductive whisper while pummeling the nerves out of existence. “The things I’ve heard you do . . . ” I start, reaching out and gently brushing my fingers across his tight abs and loving the way his muscles tense under my touch. God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long. “I’ve heard everything so clearly that it was like being in the room with you. I know the way your breath catches right before you come. How you growl when you’re frustrated and desperate for a release. I even know the difference between the sounds you make fucking some random woman and how you sound when you’re jerking off all alone. But last night . . . that sounded different. Last night was full of a desperation I’ve never heard from you before.”
He just stares at me, appearing dumbfounded, and I don’t know if he’s shocked that I actually answered him or if he’s horrified by the realization of what I’ve just told him. Either way, it makes me feel like a fucking goddess, and for the first time, it feels as though I’m the one who finally has the upper hand between us.
A raw smugness filters through my veins, furiously pounding through my body, and I bite down on my lips, feeling heat pool between my thighs. “Are we done?” I whisper. “Is there anything else your perverted little soul needs to know, or have I answered all of your burning questions to your satisfaction?”