Page 17 of Isolated (Evan Arden 4)

“There are better ways to do that.” She tilted her head to one side and raised an eyebrow at me.

I looked into her eyes, smiled slightly, and pretended to contemplate.

“You need another blanket? Is that what you mean?”

More popcorn hit my chest, and I dove at her, spilling the contents of the bowl all over the floor. She giggled as I pushed her down on her back, spread her legs with one of mine, and pinned her to the floor. I rocked myself against her core.

“You looking for a little something?” I said into her ear as I pressed the tip of my cock against her opening. I nipped at her earlobe with my lips.

“That’s not a little something,” she stated.

“Sure it is,” I countered. “It’s your little buddy. He wants to play hide-and-seek.”

“He always hides in the same spot.”

“Not always.”

We quickly shed our clothing and rolled to the rug in front of the fire. With one quick thrust, I was buried inside of her. The heat from the flames warmed my skin as I held myself against her flesh and kissed down her neck. I felt her hands grabbing my ass and pulling me down against her and took my cue to start moving.

Slowly.

I kissed her softly, my tongue gliding over hers and savoring every taste of her. I let my hands roam over her body, feeling her twist and turn beneath me to produce more pressure. I knew her body so well. Every movement was natural, unhurried, safe.

; She moaned into my mouth and bucked her hips up against me. I pushed down, keeping the pressure and rotating until I felt her tighten around me and then relax. With one hand on her hip, I quickened my pace and released inside of her.

I stayed right where I was, holding her body against mine and panting against her skin. The heat from the fire was nearly painful on my skin, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to move.

“I love you, Evan,” Lia whispered. “I love you so much.”

Without thinking, I swing my arm, and the piece of wood goes flying, smashing a hole in the drywall above the couch. It’s not enough. The next piece also flies through the air. Then the next and the next. When the stack is depleted, I grab the fireplace poker and start smashing the lamps in the room.

Every move is accompanied by a scream. Every crash is cathartic.

It’s still not enough.

I drop to my knees in the middle of the wreckage and press my palms into my eyes. I try to swallow, but it’s painful. I can’t take a deep breath, and my lungs burn when I try. Instead, I breathe in staccato gasps.

Every part of me aches. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve actually managed to hurt myself in my tirade or if it’s due to exhaustion. There’s a chill in my body that seeps through to my core, and I can’t stop shivering. I grasp blindly at the couch with my fingers to try to find the blanket Lia always kept there and wrap it around my shoulders. I’m warmer at least, but my fingers feel numb.

I drop to the floor on my bad shoulder, and as much as it hurts, I don’t move. My head is pounding. When I open my eyes, I can’t focus on anything, so I keep them closed. Pressure behind my eyes threatens to burst forth, but I hold my breath and keep it in.

I’m too late. She’s gone. She’s fucking gone.

I have no idea how long I lie there, trying to breathe and trying not to think. It doesn’t work. I keep running over everything in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong. Did I pick the wrong escape route? If I had been here a couple of days earlier, would she still be here? Should I be packing a bag and jumping on the next flight to Arizona?

When I finally open my eyes, I’m looking at the Iraqi teen leaning against the sliding glass door to the porch. His arms are crossed, and he glares at me. As I watch, he approaches and drops to the floor. He sits cross-legged in front of my face and stares at me.

“You fucked it up.”

“I was going to fix everything,” I tell him.

“No you weren’t.”

“I just…I just need to explain. Tell her I couldn’t walk away before, but now it’s different.”

He raises an eyebrow at me.