Page 93 of Rumor Has It

“Don’t stop. So close,” I choke out.

He plays with my cunt with the same artistry as he plays a guitar. The smell of sweat and sex is overpowering.

“Gonna bring you home,” he grunts. “Not stopping till I’ve walked you up the stairs. To that big window in your bathroom with the view of the entire estate… I’ll strip you. Flatten your palms to the glass, and fuck you senseless. You’ll feel how deep I spill inside of you… Give you back everything you sacrificed for me. Place the world at your feet.”

I envision my hands splayed, my ass tipped back, and my breast smashed against the cold glass while looking out on the vineyard as Isaiah takes me. I see my wide-eyed reflection in the mirror. I’m amazed at how hot the idea makes me. Isaiah’s concentration on pleasing me is in this moment, but fucking me that way isn’t an idea he’s plucked out of the blue. I imagine him walking through the steps in his mind. How often? To be that detailed, it has to have happened more than once. Knowing the dirty things he wants to do to me makes my daydreaming over how to get him off all the more potent.

I detonate with a strangled mewl. Isaiah catches me as I float down. He leans us forward as we pant. Cradling my body, he pumps with harsh, short, jerky movements and fills the condom.

Isaiah pulls out, disposing of our second layer of contraception. “I can’t wait to be done with these things.” He reaches to twist on the hot water.

“Showers?...Ow! That stings.” I rub my hiney where he swatted me.

“Smart ass.” He smirks.

I shake my bottom, winking over my shoulder.

While I’ve never had unprotected sex, I’m on the pill and Isaiah has assured me the crazed female fans are nothing to worry about. We’re in a committed relationship. But as a teenager, his manager cautioned him to never… Go without. The repercussions would be a major distraction to his career. So, he hasn’t. And even though my man talks a big game about eventually knocking me up, Isaiah is currently dividing his attention between the tour and Aria and me. He has a high-pressure job and throwing caution to the wind isn’t in the cards.

Everything needs to stay status quo. At least, that’s what I’ve told myself since Ben suggested he might’ve been more to Kylie than her manager. I’ve started changing the subject if his name comes up.

“Get your sexy ass in here.” Isaiah drags me under the spray and soaps up a washcloth with my favorite elderberry body wash. I pour some into my palm and lather it. With an utter lack of embarrassment, my hands soap his undercarriage.

“What are you doing?” He laughs, tossing his head back with a gleeful grin.

This is why I need to stay mum. Maybe I’ll have the confidence to bring it up when we stop in Nashville for the week. Though the timing couldn’t be worse. We’re staying at Isaiah’s house.

I plaster on a smile and glide my slick hands glide over his length. “Cleaning you up.”

“Yeah, well, something’s about to go up. But I guarantee you, it’s not my cleanliness factor.”

“Then I’ll scrub your brain next. You have a dirty mind.” I keep washing.

“You enjoyed my dirty mind a few minutes ago.”

I bob my head from one side to the other, holding back a snort. I love our silliness and banter. I love our honesty. I love how at ease we are with one another.

Don’t ruin it.

Isaiah wraps his arms around me, trapping his erection between us. He places his hands on either side of my face and tips it up. “I have something serious I need to talk to you about.” He stops my heart. “I asked Vespa to cancel the charter from Wichita and to book a larger suite for us in Austin. I don’t want to be without you for a second if I don’t have to, so the bus drivers are taking us to Texas instead.”

“Is there enough time?” I wipe a rivulet of water away.

“Plenty. We’ll leave for the next tour stop after I perform at the show the way we normally do.”

“Another chance to stretch out someplace other than on the bus sounds nice.” If it weren’t for my niggling worry about Ben, I’d be thrilled to see where Isaiah lives. Perhaps when we land in Texas I’ll have nothing to fear.

“One other thing. I understand we haven’t been on a proper date since December, and I’ve already thrown a lot at you, but I want you to accompany me to the awards.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

ISAIAH

The baby fell asleep on the last leg of the trip to Nashville. Cassidy’s been snuggling her as I show her around my house. She hadn’t said much, touring downstairs. I broke the ice, pointing out the microwave in the kitchen and, in Cassidy fashion, she poked fun at me and offered instructions on how to boil water on the eight burner convection stove. Although I didn’t pick out an appliance, cabinet, countertop, or pan, my chest puffed out at how impressed she was that my kitchen rivaled the one at the B&B. She seemed interested in having a large space to spread out and cook while we’re here.

As we rolled up the stairs, she became quieter. I noticed months ago she withdraws into herself whenever anything weighs heavily on her. She says it has nothing to do with attending the awards show and I believe her. Cassidy sounded excited that Gatlin and Bellamy would be in attendance and I overheard her discussing her gown with Rhiannon. I need to remember whatever’s on Cassidy’s mind, I can’t judge. She isn’t reacting differently from the way I behaved while I was grieving. What I can do is give her space and remind her my steady shoulder is ready for her to lean on.

Upstairs, I guide Cassidy down the long hall to Aria’s nursery. A maid service dusted and cleaned in preparation for our visit. Cassidy places Aria in the crib to finish her nap. I switch on the monitor and check that the feed is streaming to my cell while Cass takes in the lack of childlike decor. This was a guest room. All I’d done to prepare for Aria’s homecoming was have the adult size furniture moved out and a crib and changing table moved in. There’s a rocker in the corner. However, the nursemaid who broke her elbow requested that, and Vespa ordered it for her.

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