Twenty-Two
Isla
W hatever you want.
Theo’s words vibrate through me, sparking reckless excitement in all the wrong places. Or perhaps…very, very right ones.
As the evening progresses, his presence engulfs me from across the room.
So, I lean into it.
Play with him.
I let Willow introduce me to her friend’s cousin. Fueled by alcohol, the guy is all loud laughter and wandering hands.
Shutting him down is easy. Automatic.
But, first, I revel in the snap of tension between Theo and me.
It’s impossible to deny I lust after the crack in his composure. Why else would I continue to chase the storm in his eyes? A small, wicked part of me gets off on taunting him.
As I said— reckless .
When I indulge a glance in Theo’s direction, I’m met by twin green flames. The intensity burning in them makes it clear he’s contemplating scorching the space between us. Or maybe reducing the man beside me to ashes.
Yet, despite his glare, he holds back.
This moment is mine to shape. Mine to control.
Whatever you want.
What the hell do I want?
By the time I realize I’m moving, the buzz of the party has faded. Without a destination in mind, I weave through the building, heels clicking on floors that shift from polished marble to weathered wood as I enter the unrenovated wing.
A slightly ajar door invites me into a vast space that once served as a gallery. The scent of aged canvas, linseed oil, and dust hangs in the air as I take in my surroundings.
Paintings are scattered throughout the room, suspended on thin wires from the ceiling. Some capture Sugarpine Springs’ familiar spots—snow-dusted streets, dawn-kissed peaks, and mist-wrapped springs. Others, like the oil portraits of the town’s most prominent families, focus on the people.
I’m surrounded by glass and silence. Endless windows stretch from floor to cathedral arches, offering a view of the night sky. The velvety darkness is fractured by snowflakes glittering in the moonlight. The view is magnetic and majestic.
No wonder this place holds the record for love declarations.
The creak of the door opening shatters the spell, jolting me out of my trance. I don’t have to look behind me to know who has entered .
Theo’s footsteps are measured. Purposeful. When they stop, I turn, pulse quickening with anticipation.
He's right in front of me, tux jacket is gone, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, bow tie undone and hanging loose around his neck. The disarray of his clothes contrasts sharply with the power emanating from him. Rigid posture, tight muscles, flexed jaw—every part of him exudes control.
“Decide what you want yet, Sunshine?” In his gaze is the same brutal focus he uses to dominate at work.
Equal parts terrifying and electrifying, the look is a shot of adrenaline to my nervous system. And though I teeter between fearing it and embracing it, one thing is certain: I like it.
A lot.
Too much, probably.
“I want a kiss,” I tell him.
There . Simple. Direct. Honest.
Theo arches a brow. “A kiss? That’s all?” His voice drops and deepens. “You’re a clever woman, Isla. Creative as hell. But if you want to get ahead in business…” He leans in, gaze dragging over my mouth. “You’ll need to be more ruthless with your demands.”
I hold his stare, defiance sparking in my chest. “I didn’t say where .”
A smirk tugs at his lips. “Smart girl.”
Encouraged, I push further. “Or how many .”
His eyes flash. “Guess I underestimated you.” With that, he closes the space between us, his tall frame caging me in, forcing my back against the cool windowpane.
My lashes lower and my head tips back as I give in to the sensations engulfing me—the sigh of silk on my skin, winter’s icy call behind me, and Theo’s heat at my front.
The rush is invigorating. Dizzying .
“You look incredible,” he murmurs. “That dress is an ad for undressing you.” His fingers trace my shoulder, then glide down my spine, teasing the lattice of ribbons holding the gown in place. “Only problem? Too many strings.” Warm breath brushes my ear. “Didn’t you specify you wanted none ?”
“I did,” I needle, pouting when he pulls his hand away. “But you keep stalling. Trying to tie me up with polished prose?”
“Oh, Sunshine, you’d know if I was tying you up.” A predatory gleam flares in his eyes. “I’m simply assessing how far you want me to push.”
“I told you.” I press my palm to his chest. “A kiss. More than one. Everywhere .”
My truth is bold and reckless. Its power lies in knowing how our story ends.
This quick, no-strings arrangement will deliver the gift of closure on a six-year-old Christmas confession. By the time this vacation is over, I’ll have exorcized my longest, most unshakable crush.
And then…
New Year, New Isla.
No Theo.
I raise my chin. “So?”
“So…” His thumb swipes along my bottom lip. “I swore I’d take my time if I ever got the chance to kiss you again. Savor each second. Indulge.”
“Indulge…you or me?”
“Both. I have no intention of being selfish, but when it comes to you, I can’t promise to be entirely selfless, either.” He teases the seam of my mouth, his eyes locking in on the touch. “Instinct tends to take charge.”
He moves as if to kiss me, but his hand stays between us, creating a barrier .
Delayed gratification will be the death of me.
“ Theo …”
“Your heart is hammering.” He smirks, pleased with the discovery. “Right here.” Gently tapping the center of my bottom lip, his voice dips into dark amusement. “So wild. Like it’s trying to break free, and—”
“Punish you for not kissing me.” My retort is part tease, part taunt, all impatience.
I’m racing toward the edge of a cliff and craving the fall. Obviously, there is something wrong with me. Yet…I can’t stop. I’m stuck in one of those if-this-is-wrong-I-don’t-want-to-be-right moments.
“Your heart…” Taking hold of my chin, Theo tilts my head, leaving my neck exposed so his mouth can scorch a path along its side.
At the base of my throat, he pauses. “It’s all I hear.
Always.” His tongue drags a slow, carnal swipe over my carotid artery.
“Even when I’m not near you, the beat haunts me.
” He sucks, pulling the wild rhythm of my pulse into him.
The whimper that escapes me is stripped down to raw need.
“It calls to me. Curses me. Begs me to act on my deepest, darkest impulses and make it mine.” His teeth scrape over my skin before sinking down. “All mine.”
The heat coiling low in my core unfurls, and Theo’s name tears out of me in an uncontainable, full-body plea.
He groans into my neck. “ Fuck , Isla.” One hand at my nape, the other seizing my hip, he yanks me closer. “Do that again.”
“Make me,” I say, spurred on by the knowledge that I’m driving the most stoic man I know to lose control.
“Gladly.” He delivers the word like a warning. “Over and over again.”
Just when I think he’s going to claim my mouth, he dips his head, teeth grazing the curve of my collarbone. Moving lower, his tongue flicks along the edge of my cleavage, tracing the line where skin meets fabric. I press my chest into him, craving more contact.
“So needy,” he murmurs, cupping my breast through my dress. His fingers tease my nipple, coaxing it into a tight peak. With effortless skill, he loosens a few straps of my gown and tugs the bodice down.
“So very pretty.” He drinks in the sight of my chest, pupils blown wide with lust. His lips follow his gaze, charting a path down to my breasts.
When his mouth closes around one nipple, I arch against him, chasing his tongue.
The moment his teeth scrape the sensitive flesh, ecstasy singes every cell, and his name spills out in two cracked syllables.
Damn. That didn’t take long.
“You feel everything with your soul. I knew you’d be responsive,” Theo praises before shifting to the other side to worship me with equally fevered devotion.
Keeping my breasts exposed, he kisses a line down the center of my body, over my stomach, and lower—until he’s kneeling exactly where I want him. Need him.
He presses a hot, searing kiss to a part of me that’s never felt so painfully alive. His mouth leaves a wet mark on my dress, and a vicious sound rumbles from his chest, vibrating through me.
The next kiss is full of brutal, urgent need that makes my head spin. When he licks me through the fabric, my legs lose all ability to function.
Before I can collapse into a puddle on the floor, Theo grips my hips to steady me. “You’re a sight, Sunshine. A queen who should be commanding a court. So, rule me. Tell me what you want. Be explicit. ”
I swallow hard, my pulse jackhammering in my ears. He’s handing over the reins, giving me the power to dictate the next move.
And doing it all from his knees.
“What if someone comes in?” I whisper, suddenly aware of our surroundings.
“It’s just us in here.” Theo throws a brief glance over his shoulder. “And the portraits.”
“They seem very judgy.”
“Stop stalling, Isla.” He traces my hipbones with his thumbs before his palms slide higher, along the sides of my waist. Strong, firm strokes glide over my ribs—up and down, back and forth—soothing me into surrender.
Every pass turns me softer. More helpless.
More his . “Use your words,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”
“Your hands,” I breathe. My fingers map the corded muscles of his forearms, sketch his wrists, then chart the contours of his hands down to where they’re wrapped around me. “So capable. So talented. I’ve always envied them.”
“Two nights ago, I was jealous of your hands.” He laces his fingers through mine, guiding one hand to his mouth to kiss each knuckle. “Is it finally my turn to play?”
I nod, the throb between my legs syncing with my rapid heartbeat.
Theo drags the hem of my dress up, inch by torturous inch, until it’s gathered at my waist. The cool air strikes my skin and he stares at my exposed lower half like I’m a piece of art. His private exhibit to admire.