Page 100 of Sunday Morning
Not the kind that was earned over time, an extension of loyalty.
I loved Isaac in an all-consuming, jumping-off-the-cliff, be-damned-the-consequences sort of way.
“Baby,” he whispered over my lips as I rocked my hips with his in a building rhythm. “I’m okay with dying right here—inside of you.”
His hands tangled in my hair as I orgasmed, and then he kissed me while moving his hands to my hips, encouragingme to keep going. “Sarah.” All his muscles seemed to tense at the same time, sweat beading on his skin, and the most painful yet beautiful expression stole his face.
It wasn’t power; it was equality. I didn’t feel like he was older, smarter, or more talented. It wasn’t him, and it wasn’t me. It was us.
I had sex with Matt. He had sex with me. And they were two very different experiences. With Isaac,wemade love.
Wrapped in his arms, he laid us on the bed, my heart pounding against his.Thatwas what I imagined musicians thought about when they wrote about sex and intimacy—and love.
Between labored breaths, he stroked my hair. “I’m sorry we feel like a lie. I’m sorry that this will hurt a lot of people we love. But, baby,” he kissed the top of my head, “I wouldn’t change what’s happened. My feelings for you are too big; they don’t leave any room for regret.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE J. GEILS BAND, “LOVE STINKS”
Isaac
I loved Matty,but I saw the world through a different lens.
Not everything that was right was fair. And not everything that was fair was right.
Sarah Jacobson belonged to no one. No finders keepers—no dibs. I never asked her to love me, and she never asked me to love her.
Matty lived a charmed life, and I lived with the truth. I was good with the truth as long as no one judged me. I gave up my dreams so that Matty could have his—he just didn’t know that.
“Are you sure it’s not weird that I’m wearing the same dress?” Sarah finished buttoning her dress, hair wet from our shower together.
“Different night. Different crowd,” I said. “I’m wearing the same jeans,” I zipped them.
She rolled her eyes. “I feel like you’re going to let me sing one song with you tonight.”
I chuckled, sitting on the end of the bed to pull on my socks and boots. “You do, huh?”
She couldn’t hide her grin, not that I would have wanted her to because that girl brought me to my knees with one look—wrapped around her finger or tucked in her back pocket.
It was that simple. She had me whether she wanted me or not. I never imagined my dream being as simplistic as watching someone else live theirs. Until her.
“Well, I did the thing.Notthat I did it so you’d let me sing.” She glanced up at me, balancing on one foot to pull on her boots while her cheeks turned pink. “I wanted to do it.”
To be perfectly clear, I never would have asked her to put my dick in her mouth for any reason. But who was I to say no when she removed the towel from my waist after our shower and seemed eager to try something new?
“Lenny makes the rules, not me,” I said.
“Oh,” she twisted her lips and nodded several times. “I see. So, I sucked the wrong guy’s ...”
I loved how her innocence tripped her up.
“The wrong guy’sdick?”
She huffed and deflated.
“Sunday Morning, I’ll never tell you what you have to do, but I’m sure as hell going to tell you what you’renotgoing to do. And sucking another man’s dick is at the top of the list.”
“Same difference.” She frowned.