Page 92 of Bound to You

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes unsure as she twirls a strand of her long hair around her finger. “Is it okay if it’s I think for now?”

I twine my own finger in the strand, unwrapping it from her finger and softly tucking it behind her ear.

“Of course it’s okay, because I know I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so tired of holding those feelings in as if every cell in my body doesn’t call to yours, like you’re not the only source of air that my body will accept into my lungs.”

Her eyes quickly flood, and a tear escapes her eye, but I wipe it away before it trails down her rosy cheek. Not a flicker of doubt crosses my mind as her watery eyes shimmer up at me, portraying every word she’s too afraid to say.

“I can know it enough for the both of us.”

I couldn’t not worshipIsla after she told me she thinks she loves me. I worshipped her with my tongue, with my fingers and with my cock. Filling her up all the way until her voice was hoarse from screaming my name, and now I’m in the kitchen making those waffles I promised her this morning while she takes a cold shower, cleaning herself up.

Tonight is the night of the gallery fundraiser, Isla and I have spent countless hours with Stefan getting everything in order for tonight, and I’ve got to say I think it’ll be a success, but I don’t want to set my hopes too high.

I open the waffle maker to check the progress. Not quite golden enough yet. I drop the lid shut when the elevator dings, scaring the shit out of me. Who the fuck is here?

Stefan’s voice echoes through the apartment. He’s speaking abnormally loudly. “Look, this really isn’t a good time for Mr. Marchetti.” He sounds out of breath, like he’s been talking for a while, is he on the phone or something? I round the corner from the kitchen, ready to ask him why the fuck he’s intruding on my previously peaceful Sunday morning.

I nearly skid to a stop when I see him standing there with two people I’ve never met in the middle of my apartment, and I’m wearing nothing but my boxers.

Shit.

My hands fly in front of me as if that really helps. “Stefan? What the hell are you doing here?” I ask through a gritted smile.

Two sets of eyes stare back at me seemingly judgy as I stand here suddenly very aware of all of my bare skin.

“Uh…Caio,” he sounds nervous. Why is he nervous? He looks towards his company. “This is Mr. And Mrs. Beckett.”

Double shit.

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you,” I go to extend my hand towards Isla’s father in front of me but think better of it. “Give me one moment and I’ll be right back.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder before I scoot away into my bedroom and head straight for my ensuite.

“Oh, so now you want to join in?” Isla has a teasing smile on her face.

“You better get out, now.”

“I haven’t washed my hair yet, what’s the rush?”

“Your parents are here.”

“WHAT?” Her eyes widen as she wipes her hand over the foggy glass between us so she can see my face. “Here?”

I nod.

“Here as in Ruby Cove?”

“Here, as in right on the other side of that wall, so you better wash up quick, sweetheart, cause they just saw me in my underwear.”

“So this iswhere you’re staying,” Isla’s father looks around the apartment, seemingly taking it all in without meeting my eyes. He hasn’t looked at me once since Isla and I came back into the kitchen after we got ready.

“Uh, yeah.” Isla’s demeanor is completely different around her family. Any trace of the relaxed, bubbly girl I’ve fallen in love with is quietly hidden away. Now I just see concern etched in thelines between her eyebrows, and uncertainty in her eyes as she looks at her parents in front of her.

“Caio owns this place, so we get a pretty good view from up here.” She tries for a smile, but it looks all wrong.

I just want to go wrap my arms around her and bring her some form of comfort. But she asked me to take a back seat, so that’s what I’m doing. Even if it’s taking every shred of my self-control to keep my ass planted on this stool.

“Hm,” her father mutters. The tan skin of his forehead crinkling between his brows. “And are you staying here for free or do you have some little deal going on with your lover here.”

He doesn’t realize how spot on he is with that statement, but not in the way he thinks, and my blood boils at his implication. Surely, he should know that his daughter would never sell herself off.

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