Page 62 of Lassoed Love

Isla turns around, freezing when her eyes lock ontome and then my naked chest. I smirk, curious about the dirty thoughts swirling in her mind.

I nod towards her car, sparkling in the sunlight. “Not bad, Doc. You should take up car washing as a side gig. I’d pay you.” I wink, maybe a bit too suggestively—hoping her friend didn’t catch on to that. Isla rolls her eyes, stifling a laugh.

As the girls approach, Imogen leisurely lowers her sunglasses for a more discerning gaze. I can sense her eyes tracing the contours of my naked chest. I’ve invested sweat and discipline into maintaining my frame, a testament to the demanding labour endured day in and day out.

The satisfaction of knowing my body is a reflection of this dedication tempers my awareness of the attention, yet a subtle discomfort lingers—something about another woman ogling me makes me feel… uneasy. While she is attractive in that girl next door vibe, with blonde hair and a small frame… I only have eyes for one woman at the moment—she’s all woman—curves for days and that perfect foul mouth that I love about her when she’s all riled up.

As we enter my house, I see no sign of Mum—she’s probably out running errands. Guiding Isla with a hand on the small of her back, we walk down the pathway that leads to the large expanse of our backyard—our pool, just hidden down a hill by a row of trees.

The backyard is still a mess of chaos, with the idiots in the pool splashing around. I grab their attention, placing two fingers in my mouth and whistling loudly. The splashing stops as they turn to face us. Isla tenses beside me, and I quietly reassure her, sensing herapprehensiveness. “Don’t be shy, princess. I’ll introduce you.”

I take a step forward, guiding Isla with me, and address the group. “Guys, this is Isla, and her friend, Imogen.” Imogen and Isla both wave at them.

“The quiet one with the shaved head is Michael,” I say, pointing to where he sits on the step of the pool. Harrison whistles loudly, a smug recognition forming on his face when he looks at Isla. He winks at me, and I roll my eyes.

“The loud fucker next to him, covered in tats, is Harrison, his brother. You’ll get used to him, eventually,” I add with a laugh, and Isla just smiles.

I then point to Brad, who’s sitting on the edge of the pool, nodding back to the girls. “That’s my brother, Bradley.” Finally, I introduce Liv, who swims to the shallow end to exit the pool, now overly excited about more girls joining the scene.

She squeals, “Oh my! Xavier has lady friends? Pigs must be flying.” She laughs, and I can’t help but roll my eyes again. Isla giggles beside me, and I turn to look down at her. Olivia watches our interaction with a curious glance.

“Omg, hi, I’m Olivia. The better Mitchell sibling.” She laughs, and I shake my head.

Isla chuckles softly and introduces herself, “Hey, I’m Isla,” she says with a blush.

Olivia can’t resist expressing herself. “You’re so gorgeous... wow!” Her exclamation catches Isla off guard, and to be honest, me too. I can’t help but notice the way Isla’s cheeks flush slightly, her eyessparkling with surprise. For once, I find myself internally agreeing with my sister, silently acknowledging Isla's beauty and the charm that seems to radiate from her. Olivia continues, “I feel like I know you both from somewhere…”

Imogen steps in. “We both went to Springbrook High School. You might recognise us from there.”

Olivia, now connecting the dots, exclaims, “Oh shit! Yes, that makes sense.” She turns her attention to Imogen. “I love your hair, who colours it?”

Imogen chuckles. “This is all natural, babe. But I am a hairdresser if you’re ever looking for one.”

Olivia beams. “Oh, I love you even more now. Come, come. We were just about to play a game of volleyball,” she says, playfully dragging Imogen toward the pool, leaving Isla and me alone.

As Isla stands by my side, I catch a glimpse of her apprehension, her shyness lingering in her gaze. “Hey, you all good?” I inquire, my voice a gentle reassurance. She looks up at me, her arms wrapped around her mid-waist, a subtle defence.

“Yeah,” she responds, a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Her attire complements the sunny day—a black sundress and thongs, a beach bag casually strapped to her arm.

As I place my hand on Isla’s back, the subtle warmth resonates between us. “Ready to play some volleyball?” I inquire, and she responds with a shy nod, a delightful blush colouring her cheeks. Guiding her down to the pool, I relish in the warmth building inside me. Reaching the group, Imogen is now in the pool, engaging withOlivia. I urge Isla to put her stuff on one of the lounge chairs and join the others.

“Just drop your things on one of those chairs,” I say, attempting to make her feel at ease. Olivia, always the instigator, beckons for everyone to start the game.

Isla reluctantly drops her belongings, throwing her sunglasses on top of her towel. I notice her searching for reassurance, her eyes seeking mine for guidance. The way she looks at me does things to me, awakening a protective instinct.My shy girl. But why, all of a sudden, am I thinking of her like that? It’s not a way I’ve ever thought about someone before. The thoughts sound so foreign to me, yet they persist, swirling in my mind as I try to make sense of them.

As Isla begins to undress, the air is momentarily knocked out of my lungs as I admire the graceful curves of her body. She’s in a black one-piece that clings to every curve and dip, and I find myself at a loss for words, my eyes tracing the contours of her figure. The sight of her in that cozzie leaves me momentarily speechless, and I can’t help but feel a surge of desire just staring at her.

“Did you wanna borrow my shirt?” I offer, hoping to ease any nerves she might have, although it’s clear she doesn’t need it.

“I think I’ll be okay,” she says with a smile, catching my eyes as they linger over her body. To distract myself from the intensity of the moment, I urge Isla to join the others in the pool with a nod, and I follow suit, submerging myself in the water.

She eases herself into the water, entering a realm of laughter andsplashing. The vibrant energy of the group envelops her, and I can't help but feel a sense of pride as I watch her gradually blend into the lively scene. Olivia watches my movements, her gaze flicking between Isla and me. She’s way too observant, and I’m not subtle enough.

Harrison, the noisy fucker, whoops out loudly, “Alright fuckers, let’s do this.”

Bradley seizes the opportunity to chime in, “But we have odd numbers. How’s it gonna work?”

Michael quickly responds, “I’ll ref, leaving you with six—3 on 3.”

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