Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Izzy
God, he’s handsome.
Almost infuriatingly so, because it’s all I can manage to think about, despite everything else going on.
I should be worrying over my car situation right now. Maybe calling my parents from the satellite phone to update them. Possibly getting a plan together for how I can get back on the road tomorrow, kindly thanking this man for his hospitality, and then focus on getting some sleep.
Instead, I’m hyper fixated on him. And his stupidly hot beard. Those hunky round shoulders. And his apparent curiosity about my recent streak of disappointing sex.
Against my better judgment, I oblige his question. Because at the end of the day, the sheer sight of him is making me horny as hell. And because as crazy as it is moving to this topic of conversation, I want to know about what his sex life has been like lately too. Bad.
“If you must know . . . he gyrated above me for an average of one minute, quickly finished himself with a pathetic whimper, pecked me on the cheek, and then proceeded to skip off to the shower alone. Every time.”
I grab hold of a strand of my hair, twirling the end around in circles between my fingers, slowly. Ledger seems unfazed by my answer, but his eyes are as dark as they’ve been since I met him, and he hasn’t once looked away since he asked the question.
The rest of the room fades to a soft blur, leaving only the intensity in his stare, an entire wordless language from just a look. The heavy silence between us drags on while I debate on giving up that he’ll have something to say.
There’s a response on his mind, but he isn’t voicing it. I can feel it. I lift one brow, challenging him not to hold back.
He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his whiskey.
I mirror his movement, picking up my tumbler once again and pulling just enough liquid into my mouth for a small taste.
Even the tiny sample of liquor sends a wave of heat down my throat.
I relish it, letting the soothing warmth wash over every tense bone in my body.
“No comment?”
“No appropriate comment.”
My bottom lip juts out on its own accord, begging for the alleged inappropriate comment. Ledger laughs through his nose and clenches his jaw.
God, what has gotten into me? I want to know if he’s thinking about me the way that I’m thinking about him.
Which, in my case, is most definitely inappropriate.
Visions of a wild one night stand hookup with a stranger, inappropriate.
I’m well aware of the insanity of that thought, but there’s no stopping the wheels spinning in my head now.
I’m a grown adult woman capable of making her own choices. We could . . .
“Your turn,” he finally says in a low voice.
“You look a little on edge,” I suggest playfully. “Sex bad for you too lately?”
“Not bad.” The smile on his face is smug, like he’s rubbing it in that he’s been banging happily while I’m being dumped by a guy who can’t get me off.
My annoyance must show on my face, because he laughs, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.
The veins in his flexed forearm seem more pronounced now that I’m noticing them in the glow of the firelight.
“By all means, delight in my misery.”
“I didn’t say great, either,” he admits. “Not bad, but . . . Uninspired, I’d say.”
Uninspired. I roll the word around in my mind, trying to come up with a picture of what inspired sex would look like. I think I know what he means, but I’d rather him show me. I mean, explain it to me.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
The smirk on his face makes mine turn a fuchsia pink. I bring the blanket up to cover my eyes, muffling my apology. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
But with a chuckle, he does. “My ex thought I was boring, and she turned into kind of a nutcase after a few weeks. I have no fucking clue why I even went along with dating her in the first place. We broke up yesterday.”
“You’re making that up,” I scoff in disbelief. “Are you making fun of me right now?”
“Nope. It’s true.”
I laugh and pull the blanket up to my chest as I sit up. Should I be smiling after he admitted that? Probably not. He could be putting up a front, nursing a full-on heartbreak right now, for all I know.
With my legs crossed, I pull the soft pillow into my lap on top of the blanket, wrapping my arms around it and leaning forward.
“What happened?”
He blows out a breath. “How much time do you have?”
“So much time,” I laugh.
“I probably fucked up, honestly. We shouldn’t have dated; we had absolutely nothing in common.
She’s a little more on the wild and social side.
I like my time on the ranch, nights at home, visiting places for hikes outside of Wyoming from time to time.
She’d rather host parties with big groups of people every weekend. We just didn’t like the same things.”
“And the sex was uninspired.”
“Yeah, that too.”
“You said she was wild, though. Are you vanilla?” I drop my jaw dramatically. “Wouldn’t have guessed that, but I’m never one to judge.”
“Vanilla,” he repeats with a scoff, and then lowers his tone to a barely audible murmur. “Fuck me.”
“I’m just giving you shit,” I laugh. “I’m sure you’re a solid lay.”
I see it the moment his brain warns him of the dangerous territory. This might be getting out of hand. And no amount of whiskey or abundance of prime-of-life hormones is going to make it seem any less certifiably crazy.
My lips part as he stands from his spot on the couch. My breath comes in short bursts of air, wondering what he’s going to do or say.
He starts by taking the pillow from my lap and placing it at the end of the couch. Two large hands land on each of my shoulders, turning my body and damn near forcing me to lay down.
Oh my god. Yes! This is so happening.
The pillow puffs around my head as I sink into its softness. On instinct, my legs stretch along the couch beneath me. Confusion sets in when he covers me with my blanket.
Dumbfounded, I watch as he turns, gathering the blanket he was using on his side of the couch. Gripping it firmly by the edges, he stalks toward me, slow and deliberate in his steps.
My body responds to his invasion of my space again, and I suck in a breath. With a flick of his wrists, he whips the blanket in the air. It floats down, landing gently on my already covered legs.
“Night.”
“What?” I quietly gasp. That’s it?
His strong hands come down on either side of me, tucking the double layer of blankets in tight. “We should go to sleep now.”
I must seem like a sad child who’s been forced to stop playing their favorite game with a new friend to go home and take a nap, but I don’t care. “Why?”
He’s already walking to his room, but he calls over his shoulder without stopping to turn around fully. “Because I’m not a douchebag who brags to pretty girls about how not vanilla they are in bed.”
I fall back on my pillow with a huff, smiling up at the ceiling.
He thinks I’m pretty?