24. Isla
CHAPTER 24
ISLA
I woke up cocooned in warmth. A strong arm held me close to a very broad chest. Zayn’s arm flexed when I tried to move away, and my attention caught on the toned biceps of his arm. He wore his clothes so well it always surprised me how fit he was.
How ridiculously hot he was.
Not only in appearance but also in body heat; oh my lord, I was melting. I needed to breathe. I tried to inch away again, but lips nuzzled at my neck.
“Stay still, little Isla.”
“Are you awake?” I kept my voice low in case he was dreaming. I tried to turn, but all I did was firmly push myself up against every part of him. Every part of him.
“I can be more awake if you keep doing that,” he said, his mouth moving over my shoulder. “Mmhmm, just like that, Is.” Zayn still sounded half asleep, but that didn’t stop his hand from sliding over the curve of my hip and dipping beneath the elastic of my panties.
“You’re sleeping,” I scolded, trying to bat his hand away. “And I need the bathroom.”
With a sigh, he withdrew, rolling over onto his back, not caring to adjust the covers or hide the evidence of his arousal. “Be quick, come back to bed, and wake me up properly.”
I would have been interested, but he hadn’t even opened his eyes when he spoke to me, still wrapped in that bubble of half awareness. “Sure, I’ll run and do that now, sleepyhead.”
He didn’t reply, and by the time I opened the bathroom door, I was sure he was already asleep.
If his loft was impressive, his bathroom was to die for. My mouth hung open as I shut the door. Beautiful light-gray marble fixtures with high windows that natural light just poured through. A walk-in shower took up one wall. A double vanity and shelving took up another. The toilet was behind half a partition, which had more shelving, and in the very center was the largest freestanding tub I’d ever seen. I wanted to fill it to the brim, sink into it, and never come out. However, I knew that was rude. But the shower... It had at least five jets...
Quickly taking care of business, I stripped out of the T-shirt Zayn had given me to sleep in and my underwear. The shower was enormous. It had a shower bench, and the recessed shelf had shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel. I turned the shower on, and water engulfed me from everywhere in a hard, steady beat. With a squeal of alarm, I fiddled with controls until I was under a rainwater head with soft spray coming at me from every angle.
Oh yeah, that was good. Tipping my head back, I let the water flow over me, and I let it, luxuriating in the relaxing pleasure of a hot shower.
I considered using Zayn’s shampoo and conditioner —I would be sure to make a comment about that later. Soaping myself up with a delicious black pepper body wash, I never heard him enter the bathroom. I didn’t even know he was there until my head was tipped back and Zayn started washing my hair.
Strong, dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, and it felt so good I couldn’t stop the moan of appreciation as he worked up a lather in my hair.
“Rinse,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes as he washed the suds away and then squeezed the excess water out, and my knees were weak when he deftly ran conditioner through my strands. “Should I ask where you got the skills?” I asked quietly. “Or is this part of the experience for all your sleepovers?”
Zayn tugged on my hair sharply, causing me to yelp, but it didn’t stop my grin.
“My aunt is a hairdresser,” he told me as he worked. “You think a teenager in New York doesn’t have to work to get money?”
I spun around to face him, pausing to take him in, in all his naked glory. “Damn, you are ripped,” I murmured in appreciation. “You worked in a hair salon?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up as he fought the smile. “I did,” he conceded. “For two days, but it was a weekend, and my aunt was not one to be messed with.” He held one of the showerheads over my hair. “When that woman said rinse and repeat, you did what you were told.”
I laughed at his story. It was so the opposite of anything I knew about Zayn. I reached out, and my fingers trailed down his chest, one dipping into his belly button before resting just above the V. My mouth watered as I watched his thick length engorge, and I couldn’t resist moving closer, my hand encircling him and giving a light stroke.
I looked up and faltered when I saw the heavy-lidded stare filled with lust. “Do I stop?” I asked him, my voice husky.
“Fuck no.”
He passionately kissed me, lifting me off my feet as he crushed his mouth to mine. I was carried a few steps and then lowered onto the bench in the shower. Zayn went to get on his knees, but my hands wrapping around his length stopped him. I opened my mouth, my tongue dancing over the tip of his cock.
“I’m at the perfect height,” I said with a light kiss. “Why waste an opportunity?” His groan was my answer when I took more of him into my mouth
“I hate that you do that so well,” he mumbled, his fingers threading into my hair. I pulled back, letting him free of my mouth, and I licked his length from base to tip. My tongue flicked over the head, and I wrapped my lips around him, sucking him into my mouth. His fingers tightened in my hair as I slowly took him deeper into my mouth.
I started to move my head, my tongue stroking the base of his length, and I heard Zayn moan louder. His hips moved slightly, and I tried to accommodate more of him. With my right hand, I wrapped my fingers around his base and moved my hand in rhythm to the bobbing of my head.
“Fuck, Isla,” he hissed above me. “That’s so good.” I looked up, and his head was tilted back, his eyes screwed shut. “So good.” Zayn was moving me up and down, and I loved that he was being so gentle while taking control. “Fuck,” he groaned again. “I’m going to spill down that perfect fucking throat if you don’t stop.”
I looked up, and he was watching me, eyes dark and heavy with desire. That one look had my core tightening. I sucked harder, and he growled. In one swift move, I was on my feet, turned, and bent over the bench. Zayn kicked my feet apart and then thrust into me in one smooth move, hissing with appreciation as I cried out at the sudden intrusion.
He wasn’t gentle. He was wild behind me. His hand dropped from my hip to strum against my clit. His lack of control did something to me, unleashed something in me, and I was thrusting back to meet his desperate rhythm.
Zayn pulled me upwards and turned me, lifting me off my feet, and then I was pushed against the shower wall, and he entered me in one stroke. His lips trailed kisses over my neck as he hammered into me, his thumb rubbing my clit in smooth circles.
“Zayn…”
“Come for me.”
And I did. Then he did. After washing us both, he towel dried my hair and carried me back to bed. Zayn lay behind me, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
* * *
“I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in days,” Julian said as he poured spaghetti into the bowl.
“Mmhmm?” I looked up from the sauce I was stirring. “That’s insanity. I spoke to you twice yesterday.”
“Yeah…” He nodded thoughtfully. “Then I haven’t seen you in days,” he amended, coming to stand beside me with the bowl. “You’ve been so busy with The Grand we seem to be passing ships in the night.”
Guilt gnawed at my insides. “You’ve been in Chicago so much with this new project,” I reminded him, but I hated blaming him when it was really my fault. I’d spent nearly every night over the last week either in Zayn’s bed or he was in mine.
Julian set the bowl down gently, watching me stir as if he were trying to read my mind. “You know I worry about how hard you work, Isla. You’re doing too much.”
I forced a laugh and waved a wooden spoon in the air. “I work just as hard as you do, so pot…meet kettle.” I tasted the sauce, anything to avoid eye contact. “Life gets busy, you know how we are.” I glanced at him and hastily averted my eyes. “Okay, sauce is ready.”
Julian helped me pour the sauce over the spaghetti and sprinkled some parmesan over it. “You need to slow down,” he admonished as he carried the bowl to the table. “I miss you.”
Shit.
I looked up, meeting his concerned gaze. “I miss you too,” I admitted in a hushed tone, but I knew part of me was already somewhere else, tangled up in someone else’s world.
We sat down to eat, and Julian sighed as he picked up his fork. “You’re your own woman, and you know your business, but…just don’t let Gerard take advantage of your time too much.”
I twirled pasta around my fork, feeling the weight of his worry. The memory of my late nights with Zayn, every touch, every whispered promise in the darkness, reminded me how big a secret I was keeping from my best friend. “I won’t.”
We ate in silence for a short while, but the sense of worry hung over me too much. “The final drapes were hung today,” I told Julian, breaking the silence. “Do you think you’ll be at the reopening?”
Julian gave me a soft smile. “After all the work that you’ve done, you think I would miss it?”
“No, I was just checking,” I said with a teasing smile, striving desperately to regain our level of ease. My guilt was killing me.
Julian never liked the idea of Zayn and me sharing space. Yes, he always defended him, but he never wanted us to be in the same room together. I’d always been so steadfast in my distaste of him that it had never been a problem, but now… Now I was sleeping with him.
Regularly.
And a lot of that time wasn’t spent sleeping.
If I told Julian, he would be furious. I knew it wasn’t jealousy. I knew it was something much deeper.
Love.
He cared about me as a sister. I knew that, and like a protective older brother, he would keep the guy who most certainly would break my heart away from me.
I was sure Zayn and I would fizzle out soon. It was a crazy attraction. They burned out quickly; our differences would soon be too big to ignore. The unyielding pull towards him would slacken.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and dread filled me. Julian looked up from his dinner plate.
“Okay, now I know you’re sick or something. Usually, by the time I look up, you’ve put the phone away after sending the response.”
“Maybe I’m being polite,” I said, hoping I pulled off my casual remark.
Julian rolled his eyes. “Look at your phone, Isla, I know it’s killing you.” His low chuckle only made me worse.
I pulled my phone out of my back jeans pocket. The screen opened on face recognition.
I’m craving tasting you. I want to tongue fuck you all night long
I almost dropped the phone at the sudden rush of heat that engulfed my body. Holy shit .
“All okay?” Julian asked curiously.
“Absolutely fine,” I lied, giving him a smile, and saw the next message come in.
What time will you be here? I need to fuck you.
Will you stop! I’m having dinner with Julian!!
Fuck Julian.
Tell him I said hi
do not EVER fuck Julian
Oh fuck, tell me he didn’t teach you how to deepthroat
STOP TEXTING ME
and eeeeew GROSS
He sent a laughing emoji, and I loved this lighthearted banter. It made me smile. I wanted to go and meet him, but I couldn’t. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I looked up and saw Julian watching me.
“You’ve met a guy?” he asked with a speculative look. “Who?” When I went to protest, he put his fork down and folded his arms. “Woman, I know everything there is about you. I know the happy-glowy-Isla look. You’re glowy. Tell me everything.”
“It’s a guy I met at work.” Not a lie. “We hit it off.” Kind of a lie. “He’s funny.” Not a lie and also heartwarmingly true. “He’s just being silly.” And melting my heart.
“He sounds nice.” Julian resumed eating. “What’s his name, and why am I only hearing about him now?”
“It’s new.” I couldn’t think of one man’s name right then. Nothing. “I wanted to see how we got on first.”
Julian snorted, pouring himself some wine, and seeing my glass was still full, he topped up his glass a little more. “From the red cheeks, I think you’re getting on fine .”
“Shut up.”
“When do I meet him?” he asked, finishing his dinner, and I knew it was a perfectly innocent question. Julian had met all my past boyfriends within about a week of dating. I just had no answer this time.
“Be patient,” I told him as I stood up. “Let me see if I like him first. We haven’t even been on a date.” This wasn’t a lie.
“I want details as soon as you do.” He got up and followed me to the sink. “Then I meet him, right?”
I scraped my plate into the trash, avoiding eye contact yet again. “Absolutely.”
After we cleared the plates, we settled down to watch a movie. My phone thankfully didn’t buzz again, but I noticed Julian was more restless than normal. I hit pause on the remote.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Me?” He gave me a wide smile. “Nothing.”
“Julian?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen this one.” He gestured to the TV. “It turns really sad, and you’re going to cry like a baby.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t mention it, but you have that morning breakfast meeting event, don’t you?”
I looked at the TV accusingly. “I am an ugly crier.” I turned back to Julian who was nodding in sympathy. “Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier? I’m invested now!”
He groaned. “I know, I didn’t know how.” He reached for the remote. “We’ll switch it off. I’m tired anyway. I’ll go.”
Glancing at my watch, I looked at him in confusion. “It’s only nine thirty.”
“Commuting to Chicago is tiring,” he said as he stood and stretched. “You don’t mind, do you? I can stay.”
“Um…no. No, of course not.” I looked up at him. “You should have said you were tired.”
“It hit me suddenly.” He pulled his jacket on. “Nice dinner, good company, relaxing on the couch, all adds up to far too much Zen, am I right?”
We said our goodbyes, and when he was gone, I glanced at my watch. Nine forty-five. I could nap and then go meet Zayn.
“Nap?” I said with disgust. “You’re not this desperate. Take the night off, go to bed. Wake up refreshed for your event in the morning. Zayn can wait.”
I got ready for bed, and my skin-care routine was almost finished when the phone buzzed.
Just saw Julian, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.
Julian? The I’m-too-tired-to-stay Julian?
Julian? My Julian?
Zayn didn’t answer, so I put the phone down and debated texting my best friend to ask why he was in Elixir when he told me he was going to bed.
And then I thought of the guy I was thinking of dating who didn’t exist because I was sleeping with Zayn and had lied to my best friend.
Kettle meet pot.
When I opened the door to Zayn shortly after, I wanted to ask him, but he caught me up in his kiss and walked me backwards to the bedroom.
“All day, I’ve waited for this all day,” he mumbled as he started undressing me, pulling my PJ pants down my legs, and coming to a crouch in front of me. “Spread them.”
I did as I was told, and any question I had went flying out of my head the moment his tongue made contact with my body. Zayn had me squirming beneath him in minutes, and when he was finally done, I was too boneless to move, never mind speak.
I was drifting off to sleep when I heard him murmur beside me. “You ever call him your Julian again, Is, we’ll have a problem. I don’t share.”
Share? I wanted to tell him he was an idiot, that he knew it wasn’t like that, but sleep was taking me fast.
“You sound jealous…” I grumbled as I burrowed into the pillow.
“Good.”