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Whatever she is about to say is cut off as I cross the small distance between us, very much in her space now.
“I’m proud of you,” it wasn’t what I planned to say, not at all, but every time we get close to the truth, I panic. I suppose I’m afraid that this fragile thing building between us will vanish as soon as Izzy’s secret is out in the open.
I want more time with her before that happens. Is that selfish? Absolutely… but she stole seven years, so I don’t feel as bad about stealing a few more hours.
“What?” She tips her chin up to study my eyes.
I run a hand down her head, feeling her silky auburn hair gliding along my palm. “You were just a kid, Iz… and you did it. Rory is perfect, and you have a great career. I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t be proud of me,” she says, dropping her gaze. “I’ve made mistakes.”
“Name one,” I say, almost a dare. I step closer still.
I feel her body freeze, even across the inches of space still separating us. She won’t say it. Not yet. Instead, she catches me completely off guard in a way that only she could do. She’s affected by our nearness, too. Her heart is sprinting. My own pulse races to match. I pull back just enough to get a good look at her face. The light dusting of freckles. The gold-flecked hazel eyes.
Those eyes are locked on mine, until, for a split second, they drop to my mouth. Everything stops. Even the air seems to disappear until Izzy is the only thing I can see. It’s the same thing that happened that night by the lake in the split second before I crossed the rocky bridge from childhood friends to young lovers.
I’d known that night that my life would never be the same. Of course, I’d never banked on this, but be careful what you wish for, I suppose.
This time, Izzy makes the first move. She grabs the back of my neck and pulls my lips down to hers. Lavender shampoo, and crisp clean soap flood my senses. She tastes exactly the way I remember from the other night, butgod, I’d forgotten how good she feels in my arms. She just fits there, like she was made for me. Which is silly, really, but I think it all the same.
I can’t believe we’re really here, she’s really with me, and this is really happening.A groan breaks the silence, and I realize a second later it came from me.I fist a hand in her hair, pulling her head back, pushing for more access to that mouth I’ve been dreaming about. My other hand is fighting with her shirt, until, with another growl, I tear my lips away and pull the thing over her head, tossing it aside as we crash back together. Lips, and hands, and skin.
Izzy’s chest rises and falls against my shirt with each panting breath. I move my lips to her jaw and down her neck as her whispers of “oh god, oh my god,” caress my ears.I was hard as hell the moment she kissed me, but now it’s as if every drop of blood in my body is rushing to my groin. My tight jeans are uncomfortable against my straining cock.
Izzy must be a mind reader, because moments later I feel her lithe little fingers tugging at the button of my jeans.
I let her pop the button, but that’s as far as she’s going to get for now. I’m not letting her rush this. As much as I want to slam her against the nearest wall and bury myself to the hilt, I’ve been dreaming about this since fucking high school. I am determined to take my time.
Sliding one hand down to the crook of her knee, I hitch her up until her legs clamp around my waist. She’s not the shy seventeen-year-old she was, either. That’s crystal clear as she grinds herself against me and bites at my lips, along my jawbone, at my earlobes.
I do my best to maneuver her to the bedroom without crashing into the walls and furniture, but nevertheless, there are a few knocked-over bits and baubles by the time we reach her room.
I lay her down on the bed and she immediately pulls at my clothes, trying to tug my t-shirt over my head. “Izzy, slow down.” I grasp her hands, bringing them over her head, resting them lightly on the mattress.
She blinks up at me, confused, lips still swollen from our kisses. “Is this not what you want?”
I know it’s a gamble to give her any time at all to rethink this decision. I should be taking advantage of the fact that she is eager, because it certainly feels like I have a ticking timer. Any moment she’s going to remember who we are and why this is so complicated… but I risk it anyway, because I want to make this good for her. I want her to ache for me tomorrow. I want her to realize that she needs me just as much as I need her.
“Of course, I want you,” I say.“I’ve wanted you for years… I’ve been imagining all the ways I’d worship you if I ever got a chance like this again. So, we’re taking our time.” Her green eyes darken. I can feel her practically vibrating with anticipation. I am, too. My blood is rushing so fast my fingers are trembling.
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, I undo her jeans, pulling them down her legs. I run my fingers over the lines of smooth muscle. I bend down, still holding her gaze, and drop a kiss to each knee, before licking and sucking my way up her inner thigh, stopping before the apex of her legs to breathe in the heady scent of her arousal.
She pushes up on her elbows to keep hold of my eyes, but she’s otherwise frozen in place, taking shallow breaths, waiting for me to make the next move.
I skim one finger along the center of her satin panties. Down and back up, enjoying the damp spot appearing there.
Izzy whimpers and bites her lip, but refuses to look away.
It takes all of my restraint to keep myself from devouring her, but I am enjoying torturing her a bit. Serves her right… slowly, I bring my mouth to the lacy band of her panties, kissing the skin across her stomach, before hooking my fingers in the waistband and dragging them down her legs.
I finally break our staring contest, letting my eyes feast on the sight before me. She’s pink and glistening and my mouth is watering from the first glimpse. It was dark that night in her bedroom and by the lake our first time, and I never truly got to appreciate her.
I memorize every line and curve before I anchor her with one of my hands on her stomach, holding her in place. Then, I lower my head and trace her outer lips with my tongue. Izzy arches her back, keening, the sound going straight to my cock.
“Like that?” I breathe.
“Please, please, please,” she murmurs, as she tosses her head side to side.
