Chapter 5
FIVE
Travis
I stifle another groan when Isla once again bends over to roll the ball between her legs, giving me a perfect view of her plump ass.
After her years of being in a kids’ bowling league didn’t help her knock down a lot of pins, she opted to do what the six-year-old three lanes down is. Which would be fine—I’m still kicking her ass—but it makes it damn difficult to be the respectable guy my grandma expects from me for this date.
I toss back the remainder of my drink. It’s a good thing I took an Uber here. After the week I’ve had, I knew I’d want a drink, and I was so stressed about this date that I needed something to take the edge off so that I don’t bite her head off. My snappy, grumpy side always comes out when I’m stressed.
Being forced to be a part of the bachelor auction was one thing, but I did not expect to get a date with someone I could see myself being interested in. I would never have put myself in that position. And of course, she’s great, and I’ve been distant, lost in my own head, making her carry the conversation.
Most guys would probably consider meeting Isla a fortunate turn of events, but they wouldn’t be me. A couple of years ago, I had my heart ripped out of my chest and have had no interest in diving back into the dating pool ever since. That experience is not one I ever want to repeat.
Which is why, despite how attracted I am to Isla, there won’t be a second date. As she bends extra low to take her shot this time, my dick twitches in my pants as if to say, “Hey, don’t forget about me.”
I feel as if my little brother’s in my head saying, “You can still have sex with her without making it a relationship, dipshit.”
I bolt up from my seat, pushing away both voices. “Want me to show you how to throw the ball properly so you don’t have to do it between your legs like you’re still nine?”
That was a dick thing to say.
But Isla doesn’t seem to mind. She straightens with the ball in her hand and looks over her shoulder at me with a smile. “Do you mind?”
I give her some affirmative sound from deep in my throat and come up to stand behind her. “Put your fingers in the ball.” She does as I say without argument, and I push away the wonder if she’d be like that in bed—letting me run the show. “Now make sure your hand and your wrist are straight and hold your arm in front of you.”
She does as I say, but her arm isn’t quite at the right height, so I step closer and adjust it. This close, I can smell the sweet scent of her perfume. Or maybe it’s her shampoo—I don’t know, but it makes me want to bury my head in her hair and inhale deeply.
This position forces me to step into her so that my front is pressed up against her back. Her head tucks neatly under my chin, and there’s something I like about it.
When her arms reach where I want, we both pause. I’m not even sure why, but it seems to be a collective decision, and the tension rises between us. The urge to press my hips into her gets stronger and stronger until I clear my throat and give my head a shake, remembering what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Okay, now when you bring your arm back, make it one smooth motion, and when you get to here”—I place her arm where I mean—“release the ball, but don’t exert any extra force. Just release it. Got it?”
She nods, and her ponytail bumps my chin. “Yeah, okay.” Her voice is breathy, making me think she’s as affected by our proximity as I am.
I force myself to step back, but for some reason, likely the bourbon, I can’t stop myself from running the length of her ponytail through my closed fist as I step back. “All right, give it a try.”
She does, pretty much following my directions, and the ball rolls down the wooden lane, knocking down four pins.
“Hey!” Her arms go in the air in a cheer, and she turns around with a big, bright smile that makes her green eyes sparkle. “I did it! Thank you!”
She skips over to me, and I can’t help but notice her tits bounce in her tight tank top, and she wraps her arms around my neck. I freeze at the feel of her ample curves pressed into me and don’t return the hug. When she pulls away, her cheeks are pink, and I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment or the two seltzers she drank.
“Sorry, I probably got a little too excited.”
“It’s fine.” But my voice is sharp. Fuck, why am I like this? “I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?”
Isla’s nodding before I’ve even finished my sentence. “Absolutely.”
With a nod, I stalk off. I’m going to need some more alcohol to get through tonight if she’s going to keep doing things like that.
Two hours later, the alcohol has done its job a little too well. Rather than just letting me feel comfortable around Isla and take the edge off a shitty week, I feel all the barriers I keep in place disintegrating into dust.
Isla’s had a couple more seltzers herself, and she’s obviously feeling pretty good too by the time we’re finishing up our last game.
When my bowling ball knocks down all the pins, solidifying the ass-whooping I just gave Isla, I turn back around and grin at her while the screen flashes a giant X. “That should do it.”
She playfully rolls her eyes and stands, setting her hands on her hips. “I’m a little out of practice, that’s all.”
I chuckle while I stalk toward her. “Honey, I’m not sure you’ve ever been in a league with your performance tonight.” The term of endearment slips from my tongue.
She draws in a sharp breath, and her glossy gaze floats down my body and back up until she meets my eyes again. “Honey?”
I stand in front of her, pulling off my hat and pushing one hand through my hair before setting my ball cap back on backward. I cringe. “Sorry, it?—”
“I liked it.”
“Oh.”
We stare at each other, the tension between us cranking tighter and tighter, so much so that we actually move toward each other. There’s a dull roar in my ears, like an alarm blaring and warning me to abort the mission, that this isn’t safe, that this means risking myself again, but with the alcohol, it’s not loud enough to stifle the absolute need I feel to press my lips to Isla’s.
I palm the back of her head, giving her time to push me away if she wants. When she doesn’t, I move my hand up to the base of her ponytail, then down the length of her hair until I tug gently, forcing her face up toward mine. Something like a low hum of approval sounds from her throat, and that’s all it takes for me to move that final few inches until our lips meet.
The meeting of our mouths is like a spark, and when our tongues brush against each other, it’s gasoline dousing an ember.
Isla’s arms come around my waist, and her fingernails dig into my skin through the cotton of my T-shirt. I keep one hand on her ponytail while the other slides around to her lower back and presses her into my body until she can feel the effect she’s having on me against her abdomen. She lets me direct the kiss, bending to my will and following my lead. And the way she tastes—damn it, I know I’ll be thinking about it for weeks to come.
It’s only when someone lets out a wolf whistle that we pull apart, realizing that maybe we took things a little too far for a public place.
I don’t even consider my words before I make the offer. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
She’s nodding before I’ve finished my question, which eases something in my chest. “Yeah, I have to leave my car here anyway because I’ve had too much to drink. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“Let me call an Uber.” I walk over to the table where I left my phone and pull up the app to request our ride. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”
When I look at Isla, she’s already removing the bowling shoes from her feet. “Perfect.”
We rush to return the shoes, and when we step outside into the warm night, our ride is waiting.
I live outside of town on a large lot in the wilderness where there’s room for me to breathe, so it takes us twenty minutes to get there. We sit on opposite sides of the back seat, hands joined in the middle, anticipation growing with every minute.
As soon as we stop in my driveway, we’re both out of the vehicle in seconds and meet in front of it, where I take her hand and lead her toward my house. It’s a rustic ranch bungalow, and I’ve spent a lot of time on the weekends over the past three years fixing it up.
We stop in front of the door, and I press the code on the keypad to unlock it. I plan to turn around and ask Isla if she’s sure she wants to come inside. We haven’t said the words, but it’s obvious what will happen tonight if she steps inside my place and I… I don’t want to fuck this up.
I may have had zero intention of forming any interest in Isla when I set out tonight, but she’s proved to be a sweet, upbeat, attractive woman who’s a lot of fun. Not normally the type of woman I go for, but something about her draws me in. For the first time in two years, I find myself thinking that maybe I should take another chance on a relationship. Maybe they’re not all destined to be shit. Opening up to a woman doesn’t always have to mean rejection.
I turn to face her, wanting to give her one last out, not wanting to pressure her into anything that might make her want to back away from me afterward because I really think I’d like to get to know her better as a person. My dick really wants to get to know her tonight.
But before I can say anything, her arms are around my neck, and she’s on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine. I wrap my arms around her and lift her so her feet are off the ground, then I step inside, shutting the door behind us with my foot. Our tongues tangle as I stride through my living room to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. When we reach my bedroom, I stop and set her down, eventually forcing myself to pull my lips from hers.
“That was so hot.” She’s smiling and looking up at me in awe, and something in my chest expands.
“What was?” I pull my hat from my head and toss it in the corner of my bedroom. I can’t take my eyes off this woman.
“How you picked me up and carried me all the way in here without even being winded.” Her teeth press into her plump bottom lip, and I find myself leaning forward and using my teeth to pull it out of her hold.
“I like you.” I place a few lingering, chaste kisses on her lips.
“I like you too,” she murmurs against my lips. Then her hands loop around my neck again, and her fingernails trail through the hair at the back of my head while I give an appreciative groan.
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want to get to know you,” I admit, knowing the alcohol has loosened my tongue.
“I want that too.”
We deepen the kiss, and I walk us backward toward the bed until the backs of my legs feel the mattress. Then I pull away from the kiss and lift Isla under the arms, turning and depositing her onto the bed. She laughs and makes her way up the mattress before I crawl over and cover her with my body.
Fuck, she feels so good under me, even clothed. I can’t imagine how perfect she’s going to feel when our naked bodies move against one another.
“I need to see this body.” Isla pulls my T-shirt up my body, and I roll onto my side and help her get it over my head. “Jesus, you’re all man, aren’t you?”
She pushes me onto my back and runs her hands over the sprinkling of chest hair on my pecs, then down farther toward my treasure trail.
I chuckle. “I’d like to think so.”
Then she’s working my belt buckle and undoing my jeans.
“What about your clothes?”
She giggles. “We’ll get there.”
When my jeans are splayed open, she moves toward my feet and takes off my shoes. Within a minute, she divested me of all my clothes, and I lie on the bed fully naked and hard while she sits beside me on her knees, perusing her body.
“Eddie, you’re so hot.” She’s shaking her head, almost as though she can’t believe it.
Before I can respond and explain that she should call me Travis, she lies beside me and kisses me.
I was going to tell her at the beginning of our date when she first showed up and called me Eddie, but I realized that I still didn’t know anything about her. Just because our grandmas know each other doesn’t mean Isla’s not a tad crazy. But now that we’re about to sleep together and I’ve brought her to my house, I need to tell her. And I will. Later. After whatever is about to happen.
I sink into the kiss, no longer uncomfortable being the only one undressed when she squeezes the base of my cock. I groan into her mouth.
That seems to spur her on, and her hand wraps around my dick, traveling up and down my shaft. It feels so fucking good. So much better than my hand, which is what I’ve become accustomed to. My hand travels up the side of her ribcage, then I clutch her full breast. It’s covered by the fabric of her tank and her bra underneath, but I feel her puckered nipple and rub my thumb over it a few times.
Isla’s hand tightens around me, and she swirls her thumb over the tip, spreading the pre-cum around.
I pull away from her mouth. “Careful, it’s been a while. I’m liable to blow if you keep that up.”
The hazel flecks in the centers of her eyes sparkle with intrigue. “How long?”
I’m almost embarrassed to admit the truth to her, but I don’t want to start on a lie. “Two years. Ever since I broke up with my last girlfriend.”
“Mmm,” she hums low in her throat. “Maybe we’ll have to do it hard and fast the first time and then take our time after that.”
“Honey, you have the best ideas.”
Our mouths meet again, and she continues to work me until I’m pressing my hips up into her hand. My balls pull up from the tension, and I’m so close…
Then suddenly, she stills. Her hand, lips, everything.
I pull back. “What’s wrong?”
She smiles and gives me a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
She rolls off the bed, grabs her purse from the floor, and sprints out of my bedroom. The bathroom door closes with a slam.
What the hell?
Is she nervous? Did she go into the bathroom to primp, knowing she’s next to get naked?
I lie in bed for a minute, staring at my ceiling, not sure if I should be willing my hard-on to stick around or get dressed. Eventually, after what feels like a lifetime but might be more like five minutes, I get up off the bed and slide on my boxer briefs.
My dick is still hard as I make my way over to the bathroom and knock softly on the door. “Everything okay?”
At first I don’t hear anything, then I hear some movement and the toilet flushes. “Yup!” Isla says through the door before the tap turns on.
When the door opens, she doesn’t meet my gaze as she pushes past me. “I just remembered I have a really early meeting for work tomorrow, so I should probably be going.”
“Are you serious?” I follow her through my living room and over to the front door.
“Yeah, sorry, Eddie.”
I blink a few times at her back because she won’t even face me. Her hand is on the doorknob, ready to bolt, and I can’t figure out what happened.
Then I realize what I admitted right before she froze up. That I haven’t been with anyone in two years. So what? She thinks I’m some loser or something?
Her rejection is like a kick to the balls and too familiar for my liking.
Do girls only want someone like my brother Josh, who only offers them a one-and-done? A guy who isn’t into commitment? Who likes to spread his seed wherever, whenever?
My hands fist at my sides, and my jaw sets. “Thanks for the half of a hand job, I guess. Don’t worry, I’ll finish it since you couldn’t handle the job.”
She turns and looks at me over her shoulder. For a split second, I think that maybe I see hurt in her eyes, but it’s only irritation. Then she’s out the door, rushing toward a car that’s already parked in my driveway—which means she had to have called that Uber the second she got in my bathroom.
Was this some kind of fucking game to her? Reel me in and then cut the line, leave me floundering? Go home alone laughing to herself, thinking about how riled up she got me before she left?
Fuck her.
This is exactly why I’ve stayed away from women for as long as I have. They’re always playing some fucking game. She’s saving me a lot of trouble, so I don’t give a shit. She just did me a favor.
Good thing I never told her my real name. I hate the fact she knows where I live. Not that I expect a visit from her now.