Rough Ride: A Small Town Bad Boy Romance

I’d left a ten-dollar bill on the table, tucked under my coffee cup, and had disappeared into the ladies’ room as soon as I was damn sure there wasn’t anyone else in there. No one saw me come in, and the fact that there’s only a handful of people in the diner and every one of them are male means I can safely assume we’ll have a quiet moment to ourselves.

All she has to do is show up.

My courage is deflating more and more with each passing minute, and I’m about to leave when I hear the door open.

Izzy is peeking in through the partially opened door, her eyes wide and wary.

I stand there in the middle of the room, silently willing her to come in of her own accord. Don’t make me fucking beg.

After a long moment, she steps inside, pushing the door closed gently behind her. The moment the door clicks shut, I close the gap between us and reach past her to flick the lock into place.

“Jace, I don't know—”

“No, you don't.”

Then, my mouth is on hers. I don't remember lowering my face toward her, or pushing her up against the wall behind the door, but our tongues are entwined, frantically exploring and searching each other for something neither of us can define. Something neither of us has felt in three years. I’d be narcissistic to believe Isabelle hasn't had her fair share of men and sexual experiences since I've been gone, but judging by the sudden fervor with which she's melding herself to me and grinding her hips against my cock, already straining against the zipper of my jeans, I’d say she’s been missing something.

And I am narcissistic enough to believe that something is me.

“You left me—”

“Shh, Izzy. Don’t think,” I instruct her. “Don’t fucking talk.” I press my rock-hard cock against her, and she whimpers. Such a sexy fucking sound. “We don’t have much time, so don’t waste it.”

To hell with her shirt. I dip my hands under the hem, pulling it up. Just as roughly, I pull her bra down, letting one callused hand squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple. Another sharp sounds emits from her throat.

I kiss and taste a trail along her jaw, whispering in her ear. “Keep quiet, Izzy. You get us caught, there’ll be hell to pay.”

When I bring my head back to meet her gaze, it’s locked on me, and her eyes are wide. For the briefest of moments, there’s no sound, no movement, only the pulsing of heartbeats between us. A silent agreement.

Then, Izzy’s fingers are fumbling with my belt, unzipping the zipper, and pushing my jeans down over my hips. My cock springs free, and Izzy’s unable to keep from staring.

“Oh God.” The words tumble from her lips on a sigh, and immediately she reaches between us to touch me.

I clasp her wrist in mine, stopping her just before her fingertips reach their target. “Not a fucking chance,” I hiss out hoarsely.

Her eyes are wide, thinking she’s done something wrong.

“I’ve waited too fucking long to have you again, Izzy.” My confession pours from me like molten steel. “To hell with the foreplay.”

“But—”

I clamp a hand over her mouth, my own eyes blazing into hers. “What did I tell you earlier?” I whisper, my gaze flitting toward the still-closed door and back again. “You’re going to get us caught.”

>

I remove my hand only long enough to replace it with my mouth, shutting her up in the most satisfying way I can think of. I kiss her hard, longer than I’ve ever kissed her or anyone before, desperate to make her breathless and gasping for more of me. When I pull my mouth away this time, I hear the words I’ve longed to roll off that delicate tongue of hers.

“Oh, Jace...please…”

I’d smile like I just won a fucking prize if I wasn’t so painfully hard and aching to bury myself inside her. The sound of her begging me—begging for me—breaks something within me. Hell, maybe it puts something inside me back together, I don’t know. But I’m lost, consumed by my primal need to have her, to feel the sweet heat of her center enwrapping my cock as I take her relentlessly.

Isabelle helps to undo her jeans and push them down her legs. She steps out of them, and I tackle her back up against the wall just before sliding my hands down her hips and gripping her ass, pulling her up against me. “Hold onto me,” I demand through forced breath.

Izzy obeys, hitching one leg up around my hips, then the other.

Such a good girl, I think. Let’s see if I can find the bad girl she used to be with me.

I drag a finger along her slit, already glistening with her desire for me. Her breath comes out in a ragged breath and her head tilts back against the wall as her eyes flutter, but Izzy doesn’t speak.