Page 12 of High-Rise Heat

My pussy clenches and I swallow hard, because I’m so damn confused. I want him, but what the hell is this?

“Do I want to fuck you?” he asks, his eyes boring into me, and my mouth goes dry. “Yes.” The gruffness of his tone makes my hips twitch. “Will I fuck you thoroughly and intently, and make every inch of your body ache with fire? Trust me, I’m going to damn-well try!”

My mouth falls open. My whole body screams at such a promise.

“But—” His tone shifts, and he leans in close to my ear, an edge of confrontation clouding his voice. “The question is willyoufuck me because you want to, or because Dom won’t?” My nails dig into his shoulders with the shock of what he’s said and how it hits me in a way I don’t want to admit. “Will you imagine it’s Dom inside you instead of me? Or will this be some kind of anger fuck, because you need to be touched—and the man you want to fuck you isn’t stepping up?”

I shrink in his arms. Is that what this is? Our eyes lock and suddenly the water feels like ice again. Isaac stares at me, watching intently, and—shit, I don’t know what kind of look is on my face right now. Is he right? Was I just about to use him to feel close to someone—anyone? Am I so desperate that I’d hookup with Isaac simply to feel desired?

Isaac leans forward and softly brushes his lips against mine again and my body shivers still wanting this connection. “Let me clarify,” he whispers. “I want you, Ilsa. Don’t for a second think I don’t.” But then he pulls back to look me in the eye again. “But what doyoureally want? I’m not going to fuck you if you’re in love with my friend. That’s one hell of a shit storm that ends badly for everyone.”

“Then what the hell were you doing with your hands on my ass?” I deflect. “And your—”

He grips my hips and rocks his pelvis against me again, shooting a hot pang of heat straight through me. “I said—” he counters, his eyes burning into me. “When I want something, I go after it.”

His directness makes the blood drain from my face. It points out how ridiculous the stupid game I’ve been playing with Dom has been. How it’s been months of avoiding, and hoping, and never pulling the trigger.

“The question isn’t who I want,” he says firmly. “The question is who doyouwant?”

He releases my hips and steps away from me abruptly. Suddenly, I’m floating and weightless. I’m suddenly lost, with my body on fire, and completely torn between the desire to be touched and the fear that the man I want to do it will never step up.

Isaac swims to the far side of the pool and gets out of the water. Water cascades down his sculpted chest and legs, and when he turns in my direction his shorts don’t even pretend to hide the size of his erection. His boxers cling to his impressive cock and a hot flush spreads over my cheeks as I take in the size of it. He stands there proud, letting me look, as if he wants me to fully consider what I could have. Our eyes connect and my body purrs. The attraction between us is real. If I wanted Isaac, thiswouldhappen.

“Let me be really clear right now,” he says, not breaking my gaze. “I’m going to go take a shower, and when I’m in there, I’m going to rub one out to the thought of you riding my face.”

My mouth drops open.

Did he just say—

“That’s right,” Isaac confirms. “I’m not Dom. I talk dirty.” Then, he puts his money where his mouth is and he reaches into his shorts and starts stroking himself under the fabric. Holy hell! “If you decide you wantme,Ilsa? Then you know where I am tonight, and tomorrow, and I’ll tell you where I’ll be in three weeks. Butyouhave to decide, because you can’t have us both.”

He picks up his shirt and jeans and walks back into the suite, down the hallway, and into the bathroom, holding his hand in his shorts as he goes, completely unashamed of what he’s about to go do.

I stare at the empty suite after he closes the bathroom door. My whole body is aching at the idea of Isaac in that shower stroking his cock. Stroking himself to the thought of tasting my—

Fuck.

Just … fuck.

I fall back into the water and float, my mind flashing with how hot Isaac would be to have. How hot and brazen it would be. How he wouldn’t be afraid to fulfill my every shameless desire and fuck me without abandon. I run my fingers over my stone-hard tits and it’s painful how aroused I am. Is that truly because of Isaac? Or is that because he’s the only one who’s promised to follow through? I can’t deny how tempting he is. How immediately and directly I could fulfill this need. Walking down that hall and into that bathroom feels like the best fucking idea in the world right now, because Isaac could pleasure me in a way Dom never would. Or is that why I want to do it? Because I’m so pissed off at Dom that I want to fuck my feelings away?

And what would happen after? Would Isaac and I become a couple? Would we have wild amazing sex for a little while and then the spark would fade? A heat like that can’t last, can it? It’s only hot because it’s forbidden.

I look up at the stars and spread my arms out wide like an angel, the quiet and fragile water keeping me afloat. A bruise of purple clouds has floated in above, covering all the stars that—only moments before—had burned so hotly. I feel like I’m suspended in those clouds, lost and floating somewhere between infinite possibility and the cold hard ground. I skate my fingers over the thin surface of water, so soft and fragile and unlike Isaac’s firm muscled body, which is solid. Solid with its frame. Solid with his intentions. No game.

I dance a hand up over my naked stomach and close my eyes, feeling the water hold me delicately. My fingers trace the skin, skimming my navel and toying with my own sensitivity. I could touch myself in the same way I know Isaac is touching himself in the shower. It wouldn’t take much to find relief. I could swim to the edge of the pool where Isaac caged me in, dip my fingers inside my bikini bottoms and think about the assured way Isaac could fuck me—without hesitation. Or I could go back to my room and—like this business deal—get it the fuck done. Even though I failed to work out this frustration last night, it seems like the only sane option.

I kick up and start treading water, turning to the suite-side of the pool to find the stairs, when—

I see Dom.

“Oh shit!” I gasp, completely startled. My whole body tightens with the jolt of surprise. He’s sitting on one of the patio chairs at the end of the pool, silently watching me. He must’ve come out while I was floating, because I didn’t hear him. How long has he been sitting there, poolside, watching me float in the water with my nipples hard and my fingers tracing my abdomen?

“Dom! Hey…” I cough out water. “I didn’t—I didn’t hear you come out.” I wrap my arms over my chest underwater, wanting to hide how aroused my body is.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, his eyes catching the light and revealing a light glaze from the whiskey. “The night is beautiful, don’t you think?” His eyes linger on me a second, before they skip out to the horizon, a light breeze catching his red hair and tossing it elegantly. “Where’s Isaac by the way?”

I don’t answer his question. Instead I watch him and tread water. It’s a simple question, one that hasn’t been asked with any implication. He’s honestly wondering where his friend is, and yet I feel nothing but guilty.

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