Page 56 of 1 Last Shot

She cocks an eyebrow, her grin mischievous. "Is a little chill too much for the big bad wolf?"

My eyes narrow at the taunt. I think a growl sounds from my mouth, but I'm too busy rolling on top of her, my bulk trapping her in place and my hands pinning her wrists above her head. She lets out a shriek of giggles as she's knocked backward.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're quite mouthy for a sweet little ballerina?" I drawl, pleased to see a shiver run through her body. I smirk when her smile drops and she sucks in a sudden breath.

"I'm still a sweet little ballerina," she says, but her voice is too breathy for the clapback to be effective.

"No, you're not." I cock my head and study her for a moment. "You play the part, but it's just an act, isn't it? Underneath all that lace and sweetness, you're actually a tigress. You're strong, and passionate, and you’re so fucking sexy." Her chest starts to heave with rapid breaths, and I love knowing I can affect her like this. "How many people have seen that deep, Isabella? How many people know the real you?"

She swallows roughly and it takes everything in me not to press a kiss to that perfect neck. "N-not many," she stammers. "People always just see the ballet dancer."

"A travesty," I murmur. "They're missing the best parts of you."

"But you've never seen me dance," she blurts out, a confused look on her face.

I shrug. "Doesn't matter. You could be the greatest dancer that ever lived, and I'd still think the rest of you was more valuable."

Her eyes go wide at that. Something about that is triggering something in her brain, though I have no idea what because it's the most obvious thing in the world to me. My brow furrows as I look down at her, the unspoken question in my eyes.

She opens her mouth to answer, but suddenly, there's a loud groaning sound from where the ropes of the hammock are tied to the wooden support beams.

Our eyes widen at the same time. We both freeze, too scared to move even an inch.

"Princess," I growl slowly. "If I end up smelling like fish today, I’m going to be very upset with you.

She bites down on her lip to stifle a giggle.

My eyes dart toward the wooden beam that we stepped on to get into this contraption. Slowly, so slowly, I let go of where I had pinned Isabella's wrists and I shift my weight back a bit. We hear another groan, but thankfully nothing that suggests we're about to plummet into the water.

"You go first," I murmur. "Slowly."

She rolls her eyes at my bossy tone, but the flush in her cheeks gives away how much she likes it. I give her a knowing look that makes the red deepen. But then she's rolling to her knees to follow orders.

She starts to tentatively move toward the edge of the hammock, keeping her weight spread out so she's not heavy in just one spot. When she reaches the wooden beam and climbs on, I let out a breath of relief.

Then I start the crawl of terror myself. Every time the ropes groan, I expect to blink and end up in the freezing water. I have a death grip on the ropes every time I shift forward an inch.

I'm so focused on getting off this thing that I don't realize Isabella is stifling her amusement until I finally reach the dock and hear her say with a laugh, "Of all the things I expected you to be scared of, a faulty hammock was not on my list."

My attention finally snaps to her, and my eyes narrow when I realize she's grinning. So, without giving her the chance to prepare for it, I pull her to her feet and throw her over my shoulder, heading back toward my bike.

"I'm just kidding!" she shrieks with a laugh. "You're absolutely right, a little water is terrifying."

I spank her ass with a sharp, sudden hand, and I'm pleased to hear her startled yelp.

"You're getting way too comfortable making fun of me, princess," I growl, then spank her again. She doesn't respond, but I feel her wiggling in place. When we finally reach my motorcycle and I slide her down my chest to plant her on her feet, I see a shiver run through her.

Frowning, I reach for my motorcycle jacket in one of the compartments. Without a word, I settle it on her shoulders, then I reach for the helmet and strap that on her, as well. She stands obediently as I do it.

I swing a leg over my bike and then gesture for her to hop on, which she does with a happy grin. When she settles on the seat, she slides right up against my back and wraps her arms tightly around my waist.

I don't want to admit to myself how nice it feels to have her lean on me to keep her safe. The only thing I allow myself to do is drop one of my hands to wrap around her thigh and begin rubbing a soothing pattern with my thumb.

The trip home feels way too short. I almost want to ask her if she wants to take a ride around the city, just so I can spend more time with her, but then I realize that we've been together for hours. Not to mention, she probably skipped out on her plans today to come get me at the gym.

I park my bike in front of our building. I can't tell if her moves to get off are as slow as mine, or if it's just in my head because I don't want this day to end. But when she reaches up to pull the helmet off, I beat her to it, and gently tug it off her head. By the time I put our helmets in the storage compartment and turn back to give Isabella my full attention, she's giving me a look I can't decipher.

A gust of wind blows her hair into her face, and I automatically reach for it to tuck it behind her ear. Her breath catches at the gesture, and I realize just how close we are. How right this all feels.

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