Page 177 of Irreversible

It eats at him that I said Jasper’s name.

Not because he thought The Timekeeper would have let him go, but becauseIlet him go.

It eats at me, too. I’ve died a little every day since. I was certain I’d wake up one morning and there’d be nothing left of me.

Harnessing my composure, I cross my arms and study him, trying to pick apart his tangled pieces. “Why have you been following me?” My eyes slant with scrutiny. “Because youregrettrying to save me? Because you don’t care?”

“You and your endless questions,” he mutters with a sigh. “Haven’t missed those.”

“Answer me.”

“Maybe I’m just bored.”

“Stop it.” I stomp forward, my fingernails digging into my arms. “This isn’t you.”

“And this is you?” He gives me a pointed once-over, assessing my scraps of clothing and shimmer-dusted skin. A hand flies out, gesturing at the candlelit room, glowing pink, as an erotic dance song thumps through the club. “Shaking your ass for horny men? Shoving your tits in their faces?”

“Does that bother you?”

He tries to remain detached, but I see it—the way the cords in his neck distend, the way his posture tenses.

Isaac drops his hands to his lap and curls them into fists. “No.”

“Right.” I take another step toward him. “It doesn’t bother you at all. That’s why you’ve had a front-row seat, watching my performances from the comfortable shadows, and why you dropped hundreds of dollars on a VIP visit. Twice. Because you’re completely unaffected.”

His expression wavers slightly, a whisper of emotion crossing over his face.

My thighs graze his kneecaps, and he glances at the contact. “You’re worried about me…you missed me.” When he scoffs and looks away, I trail my fingers up his leg, the feel of his rough jeans leaving fiery lines on my fingertips. “You’re jealous.”

He grabs me.

I’m in his lap again, a whoosh of air falling out as he wraps his arms around my back. Our foreheads knock together. My hands lift to cradle his neck, and I dust my thumbs across his skin. His eyes close, chest heaving with weighty breaths.

Bending, I whisper in his ear, “What do you want from me, Isaac?”

Heat flashes in his eyes as he slowly opens them. A hand lands on my hip, gently at first, before squeezing tight. He leans in. “What doesChloewant?”

My lashes flutter.

No.

I’m not letting him twist our connection into something purely sexual.

It’s more than that, it always has been.

I pull away but he follows, his mouth settling in the swell of my cleavage as my back bows. “She wants the real Isaac,” I practically moan, tingles erupting in my lower belly.

He shoves my bralette down past my breasts and takes a nipple in his mouth. “He’s not here.”

I gasp, my thighs clenching. “Yes, he is.”

Isaac drags a hand up my spine and grips me by the hair, his mouth ravenous as he moves to the other breast, hooking my nipple between his teeth.

Desire has me wet and needy.

Indecision battles with arousal as I grind into him, seeking friction.

“Oh, God…” I take his hair in both hands and hold his face to my chest, my body a wretched traitor as I buck in his lap. “Isaac.”

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