Page 22 of Isla

"Sure." I grip her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She turns her head at the last second, her lips brushing against mine.

"Thank you, Henry."

"For what?"

"For making me feel alive again."

I close the door behind me, trying not to imagine her stripping off those skin-tight shorts as I walk down to the cottage. I duck through the doorway, and after a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up, I go straight to her bedroom, smiling at the outfit laid out on her bed–black leather shorts, an old cut-up band T-shirt, a black vest, and fishnets. The fact that I'm going to have to work with her for hours while she's wearing that has equal amounts of dread and excitement flooding my system. I fold everything into a neat pile, realizing she didn't lay out a bra or underwear. I open several drawers, rifling through them until I find what I'm looking for. My fingers brushsomething hard when I grab a pair of underwear, and I shuffle the pile aside to find a royal blue vibrator. I stare at it, images of her using it flashing through my mind like a movie. I act on my impulse and grab it along with the bra and underwear. I hide it in the pile of clothes and walk back to the house, pulling it out when I’m safely inside the bedroom. I'm cradling it in my hand when she walks out of the bathroom, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.

"I don't know if I feel like my privacy was seriously violated or if this turns me on," she admits, using a second towel to squeeze the water from her hair.

"I was looking for your underthings, and my fingers brushed against it. I could have just not said anything, but that seemed dishonest."

"So you brought it up here?” She laughs. “Why?"

"Because I want to watch the next time you use it," I say honestly.

"Fucking hell," she whispers, swallowing hard.

"If that's not something you're interested in, you can take it back to the cottage with you," I say, holding it out to her.

"Absolutely not. What's the fun in that? I don't want anything quite as much as I want you to watch me come.”

I toss it into my nightstand drawer and scrub my hands over my face. I don't know how to do this. How to be this close to someone that burns hotter than the sun. I'll combust before I even enter her atmosphere.

"Breathe, big guy." She pats my shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “Go on and take a shower while I get dressed. We have just enough time to stop at the café before heading to the pub.” I pull her hand off my shoulder and kiss her knuckles before disappearing into the bathroom. I turn the water as cold as it will go and spend the entire time thinking about what it would be like to wake up next to her every morning.

10

There’s a charge in the car’s atmosphere on the way to the pub, tension snapping like electricity between us. Once inside, I wait for Henry to disappear into the kitchen and then walk into the janitorial closet and close the door. I sag against it, slowly sliding down until my butt is against the cold concrete floor. What the hell was that? All three guys should be my sworn enemies. My arch nemeses. There must be a glitch in the space-time continuum–that's the only way to explain what happened this morning.

I stare out into the darkness as everything sinks in. I can't stop the grin that pulls at my lips or the giggle that strangles me as I try to hold it back. I know with one hundred percent certainty that he'll be phenomenal in bed. That man knows his way around a woman’s body. If he can make me feel like that with histhigh,I can only imagine what he can do with his hands. His cock. Not to mention how selfless he is. He wasn't even thinking about getting there until I forced the issue. That turned me on more than how he manhandled me, dragging me up and down his leg until I exploded.

Fuck.

I need to think about something else. Anything else. A vision of the vibrator circling over my clit while Henry watches pops into myhead without warning. I fly to my feet, jerking the door open and running straight into Henry’s broad, incredibly muscled chest.

"Fuck me so I can get this out of my system," I demand, pushing him against the wall, my hand flat against his chest.

"Not a fucking chance, Red," he says, his voice husky, his gaze dropping to my lips.

"I don't have time for this, Henry."

"Yes, you do." He pushes off the wall, backing me against the closet door. "You have all the time in the world because of us, and I plan to make that up to you."

"With lust?"

"If that's what you want to call it,” he says, looking down at me, his eyes dark.

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

"I wish I hated you. It would make things so much easier,” I say, not meaning a single word.

"Does that mean I have a chance?" He steps closer, caging me in with his arms, his biceps bracketing my ears. He slides his nose along mine, our lips a hairsbreadth apart. "I started writing a song about you. Do you want to hear it?"

I meet his big-eyed, ocean-blue gaze, my stomach flip-flopping. I nod.

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