"I don't know if I like you being okay with it," I said.
She cocked her head at me.
"Don't say shit like that," I continued. "I don't like you talking about how unattached you are to me."
She smiled. "Oh, you want me to act like I'm attached? I can do that." She gave me a little wink and I shook my head.
"No, not really."
"What then?"
I almost told her I wanted her to really be attached to me—that I wanted her attached to me in every way possible.
"Just act like yourself," I said instead.
She cupped her cold hands around my face. "Myself wants to kiss you again."
"That's ideal because that's what myself wants too."
"Well, tell you to kiss me, then," she said.
We stood in the middle of the room, kissing and talking and teasing each other for the next few minutes. It was exquisitely torturous to hold back from tossing her onto the bed and ripping her clothes off. I knew she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. I knew our evening would end the way I hoped it would, but I drew it out—made us both wait for it.
Finally, I broke contact with her and walked the few steps to the foot of the bed where I took a seat. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the ground once I got it off. She stood there and stared at my chest for a minute before letting her gaze meet my eyes.
"This is incredibly tempting," she said.
I smiled. "Good. Take your shirt off."
"What?"
"You heard me. I took mine off—it's only fair."
She hesitated. "I don't look like that," she said, gesturing to me.
I smiled. "I hope not."
"What I mean is that I go to the gym for maintenance not advanced sculpting lessons. Can we at least turn the lights out or something?"
I gestured for her to come to me, and she obeyed, crossing the gap between us. As soon as she stood next to me, I reached for the bottom of her shirt. I lifted it over her head, much the same as I'd done my own. She shrugged out of it and let it fall to the ground beside her. She stared down shyly as if being on display was sheer torture for her. As someone who pranced around shirtless for money, I couldn’t understand why she seemed so reluctant.
"You have a beautiful body, baby girl. Why are you being so shy?" I was sitting on the bed, and she stood between my legs. I squeezed her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just new to this."
I pulled her onto my lap. Over the next hour, we transitioned from her sitting on my knee, to stretching out next to each other on the bed. We kissed and talked and learned secrets about one another. Eventually, our gentle kisses deepened, and what was at first small, almost innocent contacts turned into something altogether different. Our bodies began to pulse with a slow rhythm as we let the tension build between us. As the pace picked up, we began to grope at each other, taking needy handfuls of skin and pulling each other closer.
I had to feel her skin on mine or I was going to come unglued. "Take off your pants," I said, finally. At the same time, I rolled over and shed mine. By the time we both rolled over, we were completely naked. I held her tightly and she molded her body to mine. "Let me look at you," I said. She stretched out onto her back, and I sat up next to her, using my hand for support.
She watched me look at her. By the time my gaze made it back to her face, she was staring at me expectantly. I knew she was mine for the taking—I could tell simply by the way she breathed. I took her taught nipple into my mouth, and she arched upward. I put my hand between her thighs and put some pressure there. She met my pressure with her own, arching into my hand. I allowed the tip of one finger to slip past her opening, and she moaned with pleasure.
Within a minute, I was slipping on a condom. It was the first time I was annoyed by having to use one, but it wasn't really an option. That was something I didn't compromise on, no matter how much I loved the… did I just think the word love?
That thought should have probably scared me, but it had me even more intent on getting inside her. We'd taken our time getting around to it, and by the time I entered her, my desire was so great, it was hard to be gentle. Her hips rose as I pushed inside, inviting me to go deeper. Her eyes were closed.
"Are you okay?" I asked. She opened her eyes and smiled up at me before pulling the clip out of her hair. "I think it's the best night ever," she said smiling.
I pulled out of her and pushed in again and she moaned seductively. I continued moving inside her, and before long, she found her release. "Oh, shit, Isaac," she said, gripping my backside and holding me securely in place. I could feel the muscles inside her contract and spasm as she rode her wave. For almost a minute, she moaned and whimpered and said a bunch of phrases about how good she felt. It was incredibly hot watching her finish like that, and I appreciated every last second of it.
She stared up at me once she came back to reality. "That was good," she said, biting her lip shyly. I smiled and she used her hips to push me out and then accept me again. I stared down at her wondering if any event in my future would ever compare to the way I felt right there in that very second.
"You will be mine," I said.
She smiled at me before pushing upward again to make sure I was securely buried inside her.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I thrust into her again and again—groaning with the effort until I finally found my release. Then I stretched out beside her feeling spent and satisfied.
Chapter 13
Becca
Isaac Charles made love to me two times that night in his hotel room. We tried to go to sleep after we were together the first time, but I was so taken aback by the way the evening had gone, that I found it impossible to rest. I shifted in spite of trying to be still, and eventually my shifting turned into touching and moving, and next thing you know, we were at it again.
I felt connected and comfortable with him in a way that was almost alarming. I knew I was getting my heart set on more than a one-night stand, and that wasn't a good thing for either of us—especially me.
After the second encounter with Isaac, I had no problem falling asleep. I had the alarm on my phone set for 9AM. I needed to be up and out of there so I could get prepared for class.
Isaac and I had already decided we'd spend the following evening together. He had to work until 7 or 8, but made me promise I'd be available to hang out afterward. It was a no brainer that I'd say yes. Sure, I was scared of having my heart broken by this guy, but not scared enough to stay away from him. I knew for a fact that I'd regret it if I didn't take him up on whatever he was offering, so I easily agreed to meet him again.
He said we'd figure out what to do about "us", but I figured he was just being polite and didn't want to bring up the subject of goodbye. The whole affair was simultaneously the best, most surreal, and disorienting night of my life. I spent the whole night flip-flopping between ecstasy and doubt. My body was absolutely spent after that second round, so thankfully, I got about six hours sleep before my alarm went off.
Isaac was sleeping next to me. I rolled over and out of his grasp then sat up without him waking. He continued to breathe evenly, and I sat there on the edge of the bed and stared down at him. I had the honest thought that this affair with him was going to be the absolute peak of my whole life. I traced the lines of his sleeping face with my gaze. It was at that moment that I realized all my hard work had been worth it. My thoughts went to the fact that I set out on this whole fitness mission for exactly these results, and I'd actually done it.
Part of me congratulated myself for achieving my goal, and the other part of me felt guilty to have landed him as part of some scheme. I didn't dwell on that or anything else negative. I was staring at the most beautiful man on the planet and had plans to meet him and do it all again tonight. Life was good—at least till Wednesday.
"Why'd you get up so early?" he moaned without opening his eyes.
"You know why," I said. "I'm sorry for waking you,
though. I'll get out of here so you can go to sleep."
He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into his arms. I giggled as I fell off balance and landed on top of him.
"Can't you skip class?"
"I wish," I said. "It's a review for the final. I have to go. You have to work anyway."
"Not till two," he said. He held onto me as he nestled his face into the pillow contentedly.
I stretched up and put a quick kiss on his cheek. "I have to go, but I'll meet you back here when you get off if you want me to."
He screwed up his face like I was being ridiculous. "What are you talking about, if I want you to? We already said you were coming."
I sat up and shrugged. "I know, I just don't want you to feel bad if something comes up or whatever."
He smiled. "Nothing's gonna come up, so plan on being here at seven. I'll call you if we're gonna go over."
"Sounds good," I said, trying to sound confident. He pinched my side and threw his head back in a gesture that told me to bring my face over to his. I did and he put a kiss on my cheek. I started to pull away, but he pinched me again and I lowered to let him put another one on my cheek.
"Give me that mouth," he said.
I turned and we kissed each other gently again. His lips were so sweet and I felt that aching desire hit me again. I couldn't stop myself from putting a hand on his jaw.
"I hate your class," he said.
"I do too," I said.
Within a minute, I was riding the elevator down to the first floor. I searched for my keys before remembering I left the car parked with the valet. I dug in my pocket and was thankful to find the ticket. I went home to shower and get my things together before class.
I packed my gym bag so that I could get a workout in after class. I was amped about everything that had happened with Isaac, and I needed the physical excursion to work out some of my nerves.
I planned on catching the two o'clock strength and conditioning class. That would still give me plenty of time to shower and get dressed before I had to meet Isaac again. I smiled at the thought. Then it dawned on me… I hadn't said the first thing about any of this to Naomi, and she was gonna kill me if she knew I'd kept her out of the loop this long. At first, I didn't want to tell her because I didn't want to jinx it, but seeing as I already slept with him, I thought I was past the point of being jinxed.
I knew I had a thirty-minute drive to my house, so I dug in my purse to get my phone so I could call her. I had several texts from her that were full of exclamations about seeing me with Isaac on Insagram. I put my headphones in and dialed her.
"Did you kiss Isaac Charles?" she asked, picking up the phone. She didn't even hesitate a split second to let me answer. "Because his hashtag said he wanted to kiss you. Did you know that? You were on his freaking Instagram, Becks! How'd you do that? Where are you? Wait a second, that was you in that picture, wasn't it?"
I giggled at her. She was as delirious about the whole thing as I was. "Yes it was me, and yes I kissed him," I said.
She let out a squeal, and I had to laugh at her excitement. "Wait a second, did you…" she hesitated. "Did you do it with him?" I paused for long enough that she said, "Oooooh, Becca! Are you serious? Are you just leaving there? Are you okay?"
I realized when she asked if I was okay that she assumed I'd just been kicked out after a one-night stand. He seemed so happy about wanting to see me again tonight, that those kinds of thoughts were the furthest thing from my mind. I giggled. "I'm fine," I said. "As far as I know, I'm gonna hang out with him tonight."
"Seriously?"
I shrugged even though we were on the phone and she couldn’t see me. "That's the plan."
"What are you wearing?"
"I don't really know. I thought I'd just pick something. I wanted to get a workout in after class, so there's no way I'll have time to go shopping for anything. I really don't feel like it anyway."
"I'll bring some stuff over. Between me and my roommates, we'll figure something out."
"Please come over," I said. "I need help with my hair too."
"What time?"
"I'm supposed to meet him at seven."
"I'll be there at five and I'm gonna help myself to some of Uncle Greg's frozen stuff."
"Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome. And, hey, Becks?"
"Yeah?"
"Congrats!"
"Thanks!" I said, cheerfully, even though I wasn't sure I wanted to be congratulated.
The review for my final flew by in a blur, and before I knew it, I was walking into the gym with my duffel bag strapped over my shoulder. I had a lot of nervous energy and felt like I could do three classes straight if I needed to.
Mark was in the lobby and stuck his arms out to hug me when I came in. "I was wondering which class you'd be at today," he said.
"I'm doing the early one," I said. "I have plans tonight."
He gestured for me to follow him. He headed around the desk and into the employee area. "I have to grab some stuff for class, follow me back here and you can tell me all about your plans."
I was beaming when he looked at me and he instantly started shaking his head in disapproval. "Who is he, and where do I have to go to beat his ass?"
I laughed at his joke. "I'm really excited about it," I said. "He's this famous model, and I can't even believe it's happening, but the proofs right there on Instagram, so I figure it's true."
"Let's see this proof," he said wiggling his fingers telling me to hand something over. I went to my Instagram account and scrolled down to the picture Isaac posted of us the night before. I tried not to shake as I handed it to him, but found it difficult. Mark stared down at my phone for a long time with an unreadable but serious expression. Finally, he tried to pinch the screen to enlarge it, but had no luck.
"You can't do that on Instagram," I said.
"Who is this?" he asked, seriously.
"His name's Isaac."
"Why's it say Nicky?" he asked as he touched the name under the photo, bringing him to Isaac's account. His bio said his name plain as day Isaac Charles. It also said that he was a model with six different agencies worldwide and that he had a million followers.
Mark's expression grew skeptical with maybe even a bit of distaste. He stared intently at Isaac's feed, scrolling down and inspecting all of his photos. He handed me my phone and stared into my eyes.
"Becca I'm not just saying this because I want to ask you out, even though I do and I was planning on doing it soon when I worked up the nerve. I'm saying this as a guy who's also your friend. Think about all the time we've spent together, and know that I've never steered you wrong. I've coached you through your awesome transformation, and I've always had your best interest at heart."
I was taken aback by his statement, but nodded for him to continue.
"Becca, there are at least a hundred different girls in those pictures, and none of them twice."
I knew he was wrong. Several of them were models and showed up repeatedly in his posts when they worked together. I didn't say that though. I knew what he was trying to say, and when it came down to it, he was right. I was relatively sure my heart was about to be crushed by Isaac Charles, and I loved and respected Mark for caring enough about me to warn me.
"He's not making me any promises," I assured him. "I just think it's crazy that I'm hanging out with someone like him, and you asked about my plans."
"Becca, I'm trying to tell you that I care about you—that I don't want you to hang out with him."
I stared blankly at Mark. This was completely out of left field. I knew he was out of my league from day one, and had never even considered trying to impress him or check him out.
He'd been the one to see me through my transition. He saw me when I could only do three sit-ups at a time before taking a break. He knew the sweaty, gross me—the one who didn't wear Spanx the first time she met him, and had fat pockets jiggling all over the place. How could this same guy be telling m
e he saw me as more than a friend?
It felt like the last 24 hours had been some sort of cruel joke. I felt like I was living in backward land, and my expression must have given me away.
"Shit, I knew it," he said.
"Knew what?"
"That you had no idea."
"About what?"
"That I like you. Hell, I don't even think you know you're beautiful."
I cringed when he said that word.
"See?" he said. "You don't, do you? You have no idea what you look like."
I still saw myself as the chubby girl. I still was the chubby girl. I found myself feeling protective of her. It was hard to distinguish the person I used to be with the person I was now, and I had no idea when the change had taken place.
He ran a hand down my face. "He's not trying to go out with you to be nice, Becca. He's doing it because you're stunning. I'm sorry it took you showing me that to make me tell you, but I'd regret it if I just sat back and let you start dating someone else."
I let out a little laugh. "I'm not dating him. I'm just hanging out with him while he's here which is only one more night."
"Don't do it," he said. "If it's not gonna last past tonight, then just skip it and be with me."
I looked at Mark's face for what felt like the first time. He was classically handsome with dark hair and eyes. He was muscular and lean and looked like a hot lifeguard or something. "Mark, you're kidding me right now, right?"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You honestly don't think you deserve this kind of attention, but that's what I'm trying to tell you—you're the prize in this equation, Becca."
He moved to stand next to me, and for the first time I was aware of Mark as something besides my coach.
"We should probably get to the mats," I said, feeling overwhelmed.
Following Isaac Page 9