Page 92 of Sunday Morning
“I’m going to make you come.” He slid my bra up my chest, releasing one breast and then the other. When his gaze found mine, he smirked.
Yes, both nipples look similar.
My breath caught when he sucked my nipple into his mouth while his hand squeezed my other breast. With my arms out to the side to protect my nails, I had no choice but to arch my back and let him have his way with me. I squirmed a little more with every kiss, panting tiny breaths.
He stood, gazing through hooded eyes at my dress completely open and my breasts on full display. I couldn't read his expression, but he focused intently, as if the wheels were spinning. And thatthingyin his briefs was huge and stiff-looking.
Grabbing the back of my knees, he guided my feet to the edge of the bed and skated his calloused hands along my legs to the waist of my underwear, bringing his gaze to mine, silently requesting permission.
Nope.
I couldn’t let him take off my underwear in broad daylight and stare at my girly parts, spread wide for his inspection.
I rolled my head from side to side.
He twisted his lips, and then he wet them while bending down to kiss me again.
An all-consuming kiss with one hand on the mattress next to my head and his other hand on my hip, inching its way between my legs, fingertips teasing me over my underwear.
Why did I paint my nails? I felt bound to the bed unless I wanted to ruin the polish. Isaac knew what he was doing. And he did itsovery well. He hooked two fingers into the crotch and pulled the cotton aside.
“Oh God …” I jumped, breaking the kiss.
My mind reeled. I was using the Lord’s name in vain,but I couldn’t focus on asking for forgiveness yet, so I added it to the long mental list of things I’d need to pray about later.
Isaac’s lips twitched as his face hovered over mine, watching me lose my ever-loving mind. He took his time like his fingers needed the lay of the land, and every second was delicious torture.
He said nothing, content watching me react to his touch. When his fingers grazed my clit, it made my hips jerk, and my eyelids felt heavy.
“Fuck … I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” he whispered, slowly pushing a finger inside me.
My breaths fell from my lips like they did twenty minutes into a cardio workout.
He pulled it out and nearly made me orgasm by rubbing my clit, but then he slid inside of me again, but this time, it was two fingers.
After I released a moan, his mouth crashed to mine like he was teetering on the edge of control. With his two fingers sliding in and out of me and the pad of his thumb rubbing my clit, I orgasmed. My heels dug into the mattress to lift my pelvis, grinding into his hand as my mouth fell open and my neck twisted to the side.
My blurry vision refocused, landing on my pretty nails, which survived without a smudge. Before I could formulate a coherent thought that didn’t involve how shocked I was that my nails were safe, Isaac had my bra back in its place and was buttoning my dress.
The patience he showed while piecing me back together made my heart ache. I agreed to the trip to fulfill one of my dreams of visiting Nashville. Falling for my boyfriend’s brother wasn’t part of the plan.
Ex-boyfriend.
Pressing the heels of my hands to the mattress, I sat up as he finished the last button, and I stared at the strip of condoms on his bed by the bag. This time, he didn’t need to follow my gaze to see what had ensnared my attention.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, indirectly answering the question on my mind.
“If you want”—I dug my teeth into my lower lip for a few seconds—“I mean, it’s not fair that?—”
“Sarah, I’m not having sex with you because you feel obligated to return the favor. I’ll sneak a cigarette later and call it good.” The door clicked shut.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JACKSON BROWNE, “SOMEBODY’S BABY”
Nashville was morethan my small-town heart could take. It exceeded all expectations. The raucous bars and vibrant nightlife blew my mind. Isaac didn’t need a cigarette because the honky-tonks were filled with smoke, laughter, music, and dancing.
I felt so grown-up in my dress, boots, and new hat. Throngs of people filled the streets, wandering from place to place and gathering around the telephone poles to check out the stapled flyers to see where everyone was playing that weekend. Isaac kept a protective arm around me everywhere we went that night, popping in and out of little dive bars to listen to a few songs and grabbing a beer (soda for me) and a quick sandwich before landing at Leonard’s Lounge in the rock block. I felt like a real aspiring musician alongside Isaac in his hat, boots, and guitar in hand.