24. Isla
ISLA
I have to stop doing this to myself.
Isla slid into the bed of the guesthouse wearily, the faint pulse of a headache at the edge of her senses. She was thankful for the luxurious king-sized bed all to herself.
Elle and Quinn were such incredible hosts, with a beautiful home she knew they’d paid off from the money from Elle’s music career.
They’d chosen a place off the beaten path that afforded them privacy and security, and despite it all, they were still both so humble.
So normal. She’d always appreciated that about Quinn.
In that way, he and Aiden were different.
Aiden was arrogant. A full-of-himself asshole that she had to stop allowing to toy with her.
After a sizzling kiss that had made her weak in the knees, he’d left her in that kitchen tonight, doing dishes by herself. Because why? He wasn’t willing to face her after Elle had caught them kissing? She hadn’t wanted to face Elle, either, and definitely not alone.
But that was precisely what she’d had to do. She’d put the dishes in the dishwashers, then gone back out to the living room to play a board game with Mason, Elle, Quinn, and their friends. No Aiden in sight.
Asshole.
Ugh.
Maybe he was a bigger coward than she’d believed.
“Why do I have the worst taste in men?” she muttered, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling.
She couldn’t keep doing this. She’d practically thrown herself at Aiden—three times now. And, sure, maybe he’d expressed interest, but it wasn’t like he initiated anything beyond those encounters. He hadn’t even gone out with them today, choosing to stay at Elle and Quinn’s and work instead.
“ Work-a-holic asshole.”
Yet none of the verbal slings made her feel any better.
It was like all sense went out the window when she was near him. The barest of touches set her skin on fire and made her want to find a way to fuck him right then and there. Take risks.
Stupid, stupid risks.
And that was the exact opposite reaction Davy had the night before.
Man, that feels like so long ago now. Davy had naturally been giddy at the idea of Isla and Aiden together.
Isla felt a little guilty because she hadn’t come out and told Davy the whole truth about the marriage.
Maybe because I’m still processing that myself.
And she’d downplayed how much she was feeling.
“It’s not a big deal,” she’d told Davy. “We kissed. That’s it. It’s nothing, really.”
“Girl, just climb that delicious man like a tree. You’re clearly into each other,” Davy said.
Just the thought of “climbing Aiden like a tree” made her wet, her thighs clenching, her body begging for fulfillment.
She hadn’t had sex for so long—since she and Tomas had broken up because one-night stands weren’t usually her thing—and maybe that was what was driving her crazy.
She wanted “one night” with Aiden. She didn’t want to think about what it could mean or where they’d end up.
She was sick of rules and all the adult bullshit.
For once, she wanted to return to being irresponsible and free. Eating takeaway at three in the morning after a long night on stage, followed by drinks.
Yet, the last time she’d tried to let loose was in Vegas, and look what happened.
With a heavy, strained sigh that did nothing to release the tension from her body, she slid her hand down to her waist, then slipped it between her legs. God, I’m fucking soaked.
Sliding one finger deeply inside her, she closed her eyes, her heartbeat speeding as she imagined Aiden kissing her by the sink. The taste of his tongue, the firmness of his cock against her ass.
Oh fuck. I need this.
She drew a shattered breath, then slid her hand back, rubbing the wetness over her clit. Her body jerked in response, desperate for release.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Shit. You have got to be kidding me!” she muttered.
She climbed out of her bed, adjusting her panties as she walked toward the door.
She grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt from the suitcase just in case—her nipples were hard and visible under the satin fabric of her pajamas—and she wasn’t about to open the door this turned on without something to cover her if necessary.
Opening the door a crack, she peeked out.
Aiden.
She swallowed hard, then opened the door a bit more. “Did you get lost on your way back from the kitchen?” Her tone had more bite to it than she’d intended.
Aiden gave her a pained, tortured expression, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Can I come in?”
She opened the door farther, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind them.
He stood there for a few seconds, staring at her, his eyes traveling over every inch of her, focusing on her breasts, her nipples, then going down to her waist. “You took the dress off,” he said, his voice almost hoarse with strain.
“Aiden, that was hours ago.”
Isla hugged her arms to her chest, goose bumps rising on her skin.
Aiden closed the gap between them, something darkening in his eyes. Lust. Need.
He lifted her chin in his hands, the pad of his thumb brushing over the soft flesh, then dragging it down, just slightly, eliciting a shiver from her. “What do you want?”
“The same thing you want,” he answered, eyes boring into her.
“Well, maybe I don’t want it anymore,” Isla said with a glare. “Maybe you blew your chance.”
The hint of a feline smirk tugged the corners of his sensual mouth, and Aiden dragged her closer to him. Rounding his palm over the curve of her ass, he slipped it below the waistband of her pajama shorts, then her panties, then farther still.
She moaned as he slid two fingers inside her. “Doesn’t seem like you don’t want it.”
Her senses swam with the feel of him there, stroking her clit. Then he pulled his hand away, and she swallowed hard and held his gaze. “Maybe you interrupted me.”
Aiden raised a brow. “Interrupted you?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I can take care of myself if you can’t, Aiden.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. With a smooth motion, he lifted her, then carried her over to the bed and set her on the very edge. He knelt on the floor in front of her, then reached for the waistband of her shorts once again and peeled them away.
She watched him, her heart slamming into her chest, as he pulled a chair over in front of her, then pushed her farther onto the bed, so that her head rested against the pillows.
He lifted one foot, then the other, and set them flat against the fabric of the mattress so that her knees were bent. “Show me,” he demanded.
“Show you what?”
“What I interrupted.” He sat back in the chair.
Oh my God.
She’d had sex plenty of times before.
But this? With Aiden? She felt out of her depth. And, somehow, more daring. She didn’t even send sexy pictures because she’d been an actress, and she knew how that could end up.
But the boldness of his stare was hypnotizing. She drew a shattered breath, body twitching, then pushed her panties to the side, baring herself to his view.
“Fuck, you have a perfect pussy,” he said, drawing a sharp breath.
“You sure you don’t want to feel for yourself?” she asked, then slid her fingers down, circling her clit. It took every last bit of her effort not to hop off this bed and straddle him. Her body was swimming with desire.
“I do. And I’m going to. But first, I want to watch.” Aiden cocked his head to the side. “You’ve been toying with me, Isla. I told you it was a dangerous game.”
She licked her lips, her chest heaving as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes as she touched herself. “I want your hands on me, Aiden,” she gasped as she pushed her fingertips deep inside her. “I want to feel your cock.”
“Not yet, baby.” Aiden’s voice was a throaty growl. “Fuck, I love watching you like this. Take your shirt off. I want to see your beautiful tits.”
She tugged it away as though under his spell, unable to do anything but what he wanted.
His eyes zeroed in hard on the peaked pink nipples, and he swallowed as though barely restraining himself. “Keep going.” He didn’t move, didn’t touch himself, just watched her with an intensity that made her feel like his sole pleasure was in watching her. Like he was memorizing every inch of her.
“Aiden,” she breathed, then returned her fingers to her clit. Slow circles became steadier, faster. More intense. As her hips rose against her hand, her face heated. Her thighs trembled now, her body begging for release.
“Aiden, please.”
“I want to see you come, Isla. You gorgeous fucking woman.”
“Help me,” she managed at last.
With a smile, Aiden climbed onto the bed beside her, then slid two fingers inside her, stroking against her. He pulled them out, then pushed inside her again.
Again.
The feeling of him there was enough to undo her. She let her head drop back as her body released, the frantic circles against her clit faster as it pulsed against her fingertips. “Oh God,” she moaned, the cascade of her orgasm slamming against her as her thighs went taut, then relaxed completely.
Aiden’s other hand caught her waist, keeping her upright as she finished, panting.
Then he closed the space between them and caught her mouth in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss. When he pulled away, he whispered against her lips, “You’re incredible. God, I want you, Isla. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are when you come.”
She let out a soft groan. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I know you did.” Then he kissed her hard, his tongue lashing against hers.
A sharp laugh from the patio, passing by the window of the bedroom, stilled them both.
Aiden froze, then pulled away as his eyes focused on the window.
“You’re nuts . . .” Taryn’s voice came, laughing, then faded.
Aiden climbed off the bed and went toward the window, peeking out the curtain. “They’re still here?”
Isla frowned, then propped herself up on her elbows. “Yeah . . . Taryn and Hunter were hanging out with Quinn and Elle down by the firepit.”