Page 97 of Sunday Morning
After my shower, I wrapped the towel around my body and opened the door. He was on the bed, watching TV. So I played it cool, despite my nerves trying to expose my wavering confidence, and I dropped my towel to the floor.
Without looking at him, I grabbed my clothes and set them on my bed as if I walked around naked in front of him all the time. But my curiosity got the best of me, so I glanced at Isaac.
He didn’t even try to pretend that he wasn’t looking atme. I slowly stepped into my underwear, waiting for him to look at my face.
He didn’t.
Wetting his lips, he kept his gaze on my breasts and adjusted himself in his jeans. It wasn’t just a quick fix; he kind of rubbed himself with the heel of his hand. That took me out of my area of expertise. Well,expertisemight have been an exaggeration.
I had a moment of:Oh, yeah. You probably like to orgasm too.
But Ilost my nerve, so I made getting dressed a race against time while I turned my back to him so he wouldn’t see me staring at him rubbing himself.
“So,” I cleared my throat, “is it just the two of us today? Or will we see Lenny again?” I grabbed my comb and faced him while working through my tangles.
Isaac’s hand had fallen to his side, and he regarded me for a few seconds as if to see if I saw him or if my striptease was on purpose. “I’ll play at his bar tonight, but it’s just the two of us today.” Again, he eyed me, lips twisted, gaze intense as if he thought I’d confess my poorly executed seduction antics with a blush.
“Sounds great,” I said, quickly turning toward the TV. “I wonder if Heather and everyone else are having a good time camping.”
“Do you regret not going camping?”
“I mean, you brought like … seven condoms. I said I wasn’t having sex with you, so you planned on having it not once but seven times?” I turned with one hand on my hip.
Don’t ask me where that came from. One minute, I was thinking about camping, and the next, I had a condomflashback.
To sum it up: I had sex on the brain—bad.
Isaac’s eyebrows slid into peaks.
“Sorry,” I shook my head. “I drank too much. My mind is all over the place. I need some food. Ignore me.” I tossed the brush into my bag and loosely ran my fingers through my hair.
“Then let’s feed you.” Isaac jumped out of bed and grabbed his truck keys off the nightstand.
His failure to verbally acknowledge me going off the rails only made it worse. Did he regret bringing me? Who didn’t want to take an inexperienced dreamer to Nashville, pay for everything, be responsible for her, and give her orgasms without receiving reciprocation only to get a lecture on planning for safe sex?
Good job, Sarah.
I couldn’t even give myself the Be Like Jesus speech because He was a virgin who was too busy giving sight to the blind, healing the sick, and turning water into wine to keep an orgasm tally.
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I slipped on my sunglasses as Isaac opened the door for me.
We backed out of the parking spot by our motel room, and he stopped before putting it intoDrive. “We’re either not having sex, or we’re having it seven times.”
I turned toward him, sliding my glasses down my nose to eye him over the frames. “What do you mean?”
He shoved it intoDriveand hit the gas. “If we have it once, we’ll blow through the other six in no time.”
Oh myGodgosh.
I blinked several times while he grinned, and then I pushed my sunglasses up my nose and faced forward.
I wanted to have sex with Isaac if for no other reasonthan I needed to know if it was me or the curse of the first time. And after watching him rub himself through his jeans while he stared at me with glassy eyes, I was dying to watch him orgasm.Thatfelt like the ultimate power.
It took us a while to navigate the holiday weekend traffic, but when he pulled into the parking lot, I squealed and covered my mouth. “Opryland!”
Isaac chuckled. “I take it you approve?”
I kept my hands fisted at my mouth, shaking with excitement. He pulled into a parking space, and I couldn’t get out of my seat belt fast enough to slide across the bench seat and onto his lap.