Chapter 29
twenty-nine
COLE
Isabelle was a slight weight in my arms as I carried her through the first floor of my cabin, and upstairs toward the bedroom.
She had passed out a little after shotgunning those final two shots, and I’d been forced to use my truck to bring her home. It didn’t get much use these days, as I usually used my bike, but that looked like it was about to change.
She snuggled into my arms, and I drank her in.
For the first time in weeks, it all felt right. Her here, in my arms, in my home, soon to be in my bed. I felt calm. At peace, almost. For a man who’d lived without that feeling for more than a decade, it wasn’t a small thing.
I laid her on the bed, and she immediately rolled into the center. I worked her boots off first, and then her tight jeans. Her top was next, and I left the underwear, pulling the comforter over her.
Next, I went to the dresser and pulled out the necklace I’d gotten a few days ago. A custom piece carrying the emblem of the Harbor Hounds, and a hidden, embedded tracker inside.
I returned to her side and carefully fastened it around her neck. The pendant nestled in her cleavage, lucky thing. It looked right on her. My transition from a rational person into a full-blown stalker was now complete.
She sighed in her sleep, the sound sweet and hot at the same time.
Proof she was real, and not some sweet dream.
For weeks, I’d been longing for this woman, bearing it the only way I knew how: stoic silence.
And now, she was here. For weeks, I’d worked toward changing my life in a way that could never be undone, and it was all because of her.
Isabelle had infected me with her fucking optimism, and now, I stood on the precipice of blowing everything in my world up. Maybe I’d sink, or maybe, just maybe, I’d swim.
It was a risk I was willing to take.
I stood, taking off my T-shirt and jeans, then slipping into bed behind her. I pulled her close, wrapping myself around her back and holding her against my chest. For the first time in weeks, I slept.
I woke to the feeling of hands on my chest. I nearly startled awake. It was no easy thing to wake slowly, find someone with me, and not reach for my gun.
Instead, this time, I forced myself to breathe, and to not fucking move.
Isabelle was in my bed, and she was touching me. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Her touch was hesitant, shy almost. It was at odds with her confidence in every other walk of life. She had no idea of her power. None whatsoever.
She slid her hands over my bare chest, tracing the lines of my tattoos.
I had a lot of ink, started at fifteen. I barely glanced at it anymore.
But under Isabelle’s curious touch, it felt different.
My body no longer felt like just a means to fight, to protect, to work…
I felt again. After years of living in my head, forgetting everything else that made a person want to live, I was once again aware of my body.
She touched my nipple, a soft sigh sounding when it contracted at her touch. She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing against the hard point. I’d woken with the usual morning wood, but her touch was making my cock ache. It actually hurt.
But I wasn’t going to rush her. If my girl wanted to explore, then I’d let her. I intended to return the favor later.
Her hands ran down my chest, scratching lightly.
She seemed to be studying my tattoos. Every single one had a story, but now wasn’t the time to visit my bloodstained, regretful past. Right here, right now, with this woman in my arms, it felt like time to think about the future.
I wanted to think about the future, for once, and it was all because of her and her damn hope.
She went lower, and all thoughts fled my head. Her hot breath hit my skin. She was pressing sweet little kisses down the treasure trail of hair that ran downward. My hard-on brushed the underside of her chin as she went, and then it was sliding along her lips.
She hesitated there, glancing up at me. She jerked when she saw my eyes were open, and on her.
I didn’t speak, I just watched as she flicked out her tongue and touched the head of my cock. That simple movement felt better than anything I’d ever done before I’d met Issy. Our physical connection was undeniable. The kind of bullshit you hear about but never believe until you feel it.
I slid my hand into the heavy curtain of her reddish-gold hair while she slipped her mouth over the entire tip of my cock and sank down as far as she could. Her tongue worked the top of my cock while her hand worked the base. She moved her hand, pumping me upward, as she sucked off the top.
Morning wood was a damn curse that usually took a while to get rid of, but not this morning. This morning, under her touch, I couldn’t hold back.
Before I knew it, my balls were drawing up, and pleasure was streaking through my veins.
“If you don’t want my cum as breakfast, you’ll want to stay back now,” I growled at her, my hand gently tugging her face up.
She shook her head determinedly, sinking only farther down on me. Her tongue teased my slit, and her hand dropped to my balls.
Then, I was coming. Pumping down her throat, my balls unloading every single drop into her waiting mouth. Her mouth filled with my spend, getting hotter and fuller around me.
I guided her head, as I rode out the pleasure, helping her to bob lightly on me.
“Swallow then, my stubborn girl, if that’s what you want,” I murmured, my voice rough with desire. “Swallow my cum, and keep part of me, deep down inside you.”
Like you’re inside me.
Her throat moved hard as she swallowed. The corners of her lips glistened pearly white. I wiped away a drop and pulled her into my lap to kiss her. I liked when she tasted like me. I liked it a lot.
I was about to show her how much when a loud growl sounded.
I pulled back and caught her eye, and we both laughed.
“I guess you’re going to need more than cum for breakfast?” I murmured.
Her cheeks tinted pink. Adorable.
“Come on, let’s get you fed.”