28. Chapter 28
From the moment we stepped off the roller coaster, Isabella’s whole demeanor changed.
The glow was gone. The wild, breathless moans.
The flushed cheeks. The spark in her eyes.
All of it evaporated. In its place there was something tight and guarded.
I didn’t need a fucking neon sign to tell me what it was.
Regret.
Fucking bloody hell. We’d gone too far. Who needed Marcel for accountability? I could take a picture of her face right now and save it as a reminder for the next time desire overruled my common sense.
I wanted to pull her into me, kiss the crease between her brows, and tell her it was okay. But instinct told me if I tried, she’d stiffen. Maybe even step away. And that would make this whole situation worse.
There were eyes on us. Chase was walking backward in front of us.
“Lisa’s starving. Let’s head back, change for dinner and game night. Isabella, we’re thinking we’ll play with the cards tonight.”
Her head snapped up, and she gulped.
“Yeah. Okay.”
It wasn’t okay. None of this shit was okay. We started the walk back, the boardwalk noisier now, lights flickering. With each step she took, she retreated further into herself.
“Did you have fun today?” I asked, trying to break the ice.
Nothing.
“It was the perfect weather, right?”
I reached for her hand and, surprisingly, she let me take it. Instant relief coursed through me. It was short-lived. I squeezed. She didn’t squeeze back. Just gave a small shrug and a distant nod, her gaze fixed somewhere ahead.
Strike one.
“The intensive tomorrow,” I tried again. “You still want to come?”
Silence followed.
Strike two.
We weren’t doing this. I learned the hard way with Hannah. Silence breeds assumptions. Assumptions breed resentment. And resentment destroys everything quietly before you even realize it’s happening.
A mature man never guessed. He asks. Nik taught me that.
I slowed my steps and tugged Isabella toward the edge of the boardwalk, letting the others drift ahead of us. Hannah noticed that something was off. Of course she did. She smirked. The bitch actually smirked.
Then she looped her arm through Trent’s and made a theatrical show of leaning into him, casting a sideways glance. I almost laughed. If she thought a little PDA would bother me, she was clearly mistaken.
Trent could bend her over the railing and fuck her. It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. There was nothing left in me to care. And that clarity was mind-blowing in a way. In another time or place, I might have sat in it longer. Shared it with Marcel.
But right now my focus was on the woman standing next to me, pretending she wasn’t unraveling. I turned toward her.
Apologize. Explain. Bring up the roller coaster. Ask if you crossed the line.
“Talk to me.”
More silence followed. The boardwalk had been loud moments ago—laughter, music, the hum of rides—but between us it felt like someone had vacuumed the air out entirely. She wouldn’t even look at me.
“Isabella, you’re upset—”
“I’m fine, honestly.”
She wasn’t. And the way she pivoted and started walking ahead screamed the truth. The wooden planks thudded beneath her steps. My chest dipped. Now she was lying to me. I caught up in a few strides.
Somewhere ahead of us, Hannah laughed—sharp and loud.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend.”
She exhaled through her nose, but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. And that’s when it hit me. As much as communication mattered, as much as I’d promised myself I would never again let silence rot something good, it would only push her further away.
She wasn’t ready to talk. Pushing would turn this into a scene. If she snapped, which was entirely possible, she’d hate herself for it later. I knew that much about her character.
“When we get back,” I said, keeping my tone neutral and even. “Maybe some downtime will help.”
“I said everything is fine,” she insisted.
But her shoulders were rigid. Her jaw was tight. Even her fingers curled into her palms like she was holding everything in. It was written all over her face. I swallowed the words clawing at my throat.
The walk back felt longer than it had been earlier. The ocean wind had turned cooler, brushing across my arms. The glow from storefront windows cast long shadows across her face. I hated that I couldn’t read her.
We reached the hotel. The elevator ride up was thick with silence. The hum of the cables overhead filled the space neither of us dared to. Once inside the room, the door shut behind us. Alone with no audience, no distractions, and no Hannah, I opened my mouth to speak. But she beat me to it.
“I think you’re right. I could use some alone time.”
She didn’t look at me when she said it.
“Do you mind doing dinner and game night without me? I’ll order something in,” she added.
The boundary landed between us. Clean and unmistakable.
“If that’s what you want,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as needy as I was fucking feeling.
She moved past me without touching me. At the side table, she paused before opening the nightstand. Her fingers hovered over the drawer for a second too long. Then she pulled it open and dug around before pulling out the dice and cards.
“Give the cards to Lisa for me,” she said. “It’s probably best she look them over first. Make sure she’s comfortable with the spice level before you all involve the group.”
Her eyes didn’t leave the box, and I wondered if she was having second thoughts about giving them to me.
“With them being unopened, I have no idea how intense they are.”
That was a lie. She knew Kinsley well enough to know they’d have some serious kick, hence the warning.
“You can shower first.”
She moved to the small table, dismissing me. I nodded once because there wasn’t much else to do. But I couldn’t help staring as she chose the one seat that would put her back to me. It was more than a dismissal.
It was her erecting a brick wall.
When she flipped open her sketchbook, it was with more force than necessary. The sound echoed in the quiet. She turned one page, then another, before settling. The silence thickened. I stood there longer than I should have, hoping she might look up.
She didn’t. Instead, she flipped her hair over one shoulder and slid her earbuds in, effectively sealing herself off. Each move left me gutted. With a quiet exhale, I turned, feeling incredibly lost.
I had no desire to go down to dinner without her. I sure as shit didn’t want to do game night with any of them. I’d rather sit in silence with her. She didn’t understand that I was only hanging on because she was there. I needed her to anchor me.
How fucking pathetic can you get, asshole?
Grabbing clothes, I headed toward the bathroom. Once inside, I put on a playlist and took several deep breaths. I would go down to dinner at least. If nothing else, that would show her I respected the boundary she’d drawn.
She needed space. I’d give it to her. At least for now. Because there was no way this was getting buried. We could talk later, and I vowed we would. I turned the shower on and stepped beneath the spray.
The heat hit first, loosening the tight coil in my shoulders.
Steam filled the space. I adjusted the shower-head to pulse.
The pressure thudded against my back. Water streamed down my chest, over my abdomen, and I forced myself to focus on the physical sensation—soap, heat, rinse—except an image wouldn’t stop replaying in my mind.
Her on the roller coaster.
Her head tipped back. Her lips parted and her breathing rapid. The way she had looked at me. I dragged the washcloth down my chest and exhaled hard. Her words as she begged me to touch her played on repeat.
Coupled with those thoughts and the water running down my body, my cock now stood at attention. That didn’t take long. And neither did the spiral. I closed my eyes and visualized her in the red bikini.
I reached down, wrapping my hand around my thick shaft.
I tugged, squeezing it from base to tip, and hissed.
Stroking myself slowly, I envisioned lubing her chest, pushing her luscious breasts together and gliding my cock between the deep cleavage, creating a nice slick channel to fuck.
I picked up the speed, letting out a soft moan.
Did I lock the door? She wouldn’t come in anyway, even if I hadn’t. But fuck, what would she do if she came in and caught me?
The vision shifted from me fucking her perfect tits to her walking in on me. In the fantasy, she would stare down at my cock, mouth open. She would unbutton her shorts, sliding them off.
With an equal amount of slowness, she’d peel my T-shirt off, along with the skimpy top, watching my every stroke. Then the red bottoms would come off. She’d join me in the shower, asking if she could taste me.
I’d shake my head and tell her, ladies always go first. And I would fucking kneel for her. Kiss that soft belly of hers before delving between her legs. Just the thought of her taste on my tongue had me gripping my cock harder and pumping.
God, what I wouldn’t give for one sweet, sweet taste of her pussy.
I’d start by kissing her softly before introducing her to my tongue. Her legs would fall open like they did earlier on the ride, and I’d grab hold of her round ass and dive in. Sucking her swollen clit would have her back bowing beautifully.
In my fantasy, she would play with her nipples. With each moan she would make, I would counter it and watch as the vibration traveled through her body, intensifying everything. Warmth spread from my stomach, chest, and up my neck to my face.
My hand picked up pace as I imagined her letting go and getting loud with me. Would she beg me to make her come? How would her juices taste and what the fuck would her face look like as she came all over my tongue?
Would she grind her pussy in my face, wanting it as much as I did? The thought alone of her losing control had the muscles in my neck and chest flexing, bulging as I threw my head back and pumped my cock furiously.
Damn, it felt good.
My balls drew up tight against my body and the muscles in my stomach tensed as I thought about her screaming my name. I bit my lip to silence the roar I wanted to let loose, and then it hit. Hard. With one last tug, I opened my eyes and streams of cum burst from the tip of my cock.
I moaned into the spray of water, hoping it—coupled with the music still playing—covered the sound. The tension left my chest and neck, and I dropped my head. Closing my eyes, I let the warm water run down the back of my head.
The noise in my head dissipated, and clarity settled in. What happened on the roller coaster was natural. There was nothing shameful about it.
Just two bodies responding to adrenaline and chemistry. It didn’t define us. It didn’t mean we had to do anything more about it. It didn’t mean we were a couple. Sexual arousal was one of the most natural and normal things a person could feel. It was biology. No need to spiral over it.
Feeling lighter, I stepped out of the shower and got dressed. I didn’t let her silence burrow under my skin this time. Grabbing the dice and cards from the dresser, I crossed the room. She had one earbud in. The other sat next to her sketchpad. She sensed me before I spoke.
Her pencil moved steadily across the page—quick and confident. The ocean skyline from earlier took shape beneath her hand, the curve of the horizon, the jagged suggestion of waves. She was lost to her art, and that meant she was coping.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. She exhaled. The fact that she hadn’t yanked away spoke volumes. At the door, I paused. The scratching of pencil against paper had stopped.
Looking over at her, I waited, hoping she’d look up. A slow grin tugged at my mouth. She wasn’t drawing, but she was waiting for me to do something.
Damn stubborn Caruso blood.
“Leave the fireplace on for me, princess,” I commanded. “I love the way it plays against your face at night.”