Page 84 of Fractured Faceoff

I pulled into the garage, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires fading as I shifted into park. The lights flickered on automatically, casting a warm glow over my cluttered space.

Isla slipped out of the truck, her movements fluid yet cautious, like she was still processing everything that had just happened. I watched her for a moment, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath before following me inside.

"Let me see about that hand," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. She trailed behind, quiet but attentive.

The cool tile underfoot felt grounding as I rummaged through the freezer for an ice pack. When I finally found one, I turned around to see her leaning against the counter, her gaze drifting around my place—how empty it still was, despite being here for almost a month.

“C’mon,” I said gently, beckoning her closer.

She stepped forward hesitantly, extending her hand toward me. It felt small in mine as I took it carefully, examining every inch as if it held secrets I needed to uncover. Her fingers were warm despite the chill of the pack resting against them.

“Just checking for aches,” I said softly, feeling a twinge of intimacy in our shared moment. My thumb brushed over the back of her hand while my fingers explored gently along her palm.

“How does that feel?” I asked after a beat,locking eyes with her.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she replied quietly, but there was something deeper in those words—something unsaid hanging between us like unspooled yarn.

I nodded and pressed the ice pack against her hand gently. The contact felt electric—a spark igniting somewhere low in my gut that demanded more than just this brief touch.

Our eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary. I wanted to say something profound or witty to break that tension—but instead, I simply focused on holding her gaze and hoping she felt what I did.

The ice pack felt cool against her hand, but it did nothing to cool the heat building between us. My heart raced, and I couldn’t shake the need to pull her closer. Everything else faded—the clutter of my place, the world outside—until it was just Isla and me.

I didn’t think. I just leaned in, capturing her lips with mine in a long kiss that ignited something wild inside me. She tasted like adrenaline and warmth, a mixture that made me dizzy. The way she melted against me felt like coming home after being lost for too long.

I pulled back reluctantly, breathless and disoriented. “I… I’m sorry,” I murmured, my voice low and shaky. “I don’t know why?—”

Before I could finish, she stood on her toes and kissed me again, fierce this time. It was as if she had decided for both of us what we needed more than words. Her hands found their way to my shoulders, gripping tightly as if afraid I’d disappear.

The kiss deepened, each second stretching into eternity. My pulse quickened as I slid my hands around her waist, pulling her closer still. Every thought shattered; all that existed was Isla—her soft breaths mingling with mine andthe taste of uncertainty fading into something raw and exhilarating.

She fit against me perfectly, every curve igniting sparks along my skin. My mind raced with everything I hadn’t allowed myself to feel until now—the ache of wanting something real.

Finally, we broke apart again, our foreheads resting together as we both gasped for air. Her cheeks flushed bright red under the soft kitchen light; I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. Isla’s eyes held mine, and in that moment, something shifted—something electric and undeniable passed between us. I could feel it thrumming in the air, like a heartbeat syncing to our own.

I cupped her face in my hand, my thumb grazing her cheek as I leaned in. Her breath hitched just before my lips found hers again. This kiss was different—deeper, more intense. I slid my tongue into her mouth, and she opened for me without hesitation. The warmth of her met the fire inside me, igniting every nerve ending until nothing else mattered but this connection we shared.

This had nothing to do with pretending or playing games; it felt real—raw and hungry—and yet it was everything we both wanted. The taste of her mixed with the adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the game lingered on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating. Each soft sigh from Isla fueled the urgency building within me.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, I felt an overwhelming surge of desire course through me. Without thinking, I swept her up into my arms. She laughed softly in surprise as I carried her up the stairs and down the hallway toward my bedroom, each step filled with reckless abandon.

Her arms wrapped around my neckinstinctively as I pushed open the door with one foot, kicking it shut behind us. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls like specters of our unspoken feelings.

I laid her down gently on the bed, but even as she sank into the sheets, there was nothing gentle about how I moved next to her. Our breaths mingled in the stillness of that moment—charged and heavy with anticipation.

Isla looked up at me, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes despite everything else swirling around us. In that glance, I saw something more than just desire; it felt like an invitation to cross an uncharted line we had both skirted around for too long.

“Jared…” she whispered, but I didn’t let her finish.

I pressed my body against hers, feeling the heat radiate between us like an electric current. The bed cradled her as I leaned in, kissing her with a hunger that had been building since the moment we met. Isla's lips were soft and inviting, tasting like sweet victory, and I couldn't get enough.

I didn't realize how petite she was, really. Now that she was underneath me, now that her arms were hoisted around my neck…

She felt good underneath me.

Right.

"Isla," I rumbled against her lips, my breath mingling with hers. “If you don't want me, tell me now. Tell me to stop. Say it, and I will stop, I promise you. Because if you don't—if you don’t say it…”

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