Chapter Seventeen

Nolan sat on his couch, laptop balanced on his lap, making some tweaks to his presentation, determined to burn the midnight oil to get it perfect. No other option existed. If this wasn’t perfect, he’d fail.

Izzy’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, and the screen lit up. He paid no attention to the notification and instead focused on the background. A younger picture of Archie. Thinner cheeks, sleeping, wrapped in fabric. He knew it to be the same baby but it also felt different. The kid wasn’t even a year old, how could he have been different only a few months ago?

The screen darkened and went black before he could finish chronicling all the changes. He wanted to get the image back up, but he had no reason to pick up Izzy’s phone. And yet he couldn’t bring his attention back to work, the fading memory of the image playing in his mind.

Izzy appeared in his peripheral and he forced his gaze away from the phone. “You got a message.”

“Oh, thanks,” Izzy said and grabbed her phone. She scrolled immediately past the home screen image that Nolan wanted to see, read the text, and then typed a response, before her eyes met his again. “What’s wrong?” she signed.

“Nothing.” He turned back to his work but couldn’t even formulate a word. The image stuck in his mind like an in-game object he had to find before being able to progress further. He faced Izzy. “You have a picture of Archie on there.”

Izzy grinned. “I have his whole life on here.”

Fascinating. “I mean the screen saver. Archie looks different.”

Izzy smiled and loaded the image before handing him the phone. “That was his first night home. I was clueless. My mom helped me wrap him.”

Nolan looked at the newborn face, cataloguing similarities and differences, itching to draw it. He thought of what Izzy had signed, realizing how much he missed out on, a bunch of little and big moments they’d had without him. It pained him, but life had unfolded that way, for better or worse.

He handed the phone to Izzy and tried once again to focus on work, but he couldn’t. Izzy moved around in his kitchen, cleaning and prepping Archie’s things for the next day. And each time she shifted, he followed her movements, liking her being in his space far too much. It didn’t make sense. Surely after spending most of the day every day for four days together they’d be wearing on each other’s nerves, but he found he wanted more of her, and he wanted to know her better.

His work wasn’t getting done, not tonight. Not with the week nearly over. Who cared it was only Wednesday? Tomorrow they’d be busy with the board meeting. Then Friday would plow into their lives, and Izzy and Archie would leave.

That thought caused his chest to physically ache, but it had to be done. They didn’t live with him, and his and Izzy’s jobs were on the line. He’d work with Izzy to figure something out for Archie’s care, but the policy meant their brief rekindling needed to stay just that, brief.

Izzy caught him studying her facial expressions as she worked, and now her dark eyes held his and he had trouble remembering what he’d just been thinking about.

Nolan closed his laptop and made his way into the kitchen, a heat-seeking missile with only Izzy as the target. She stopped what she was doing, and he hadn’t a clue what that was. She could have had a knife in her hand, or a banana, and his reaction would have been the same. He kept moving until their toes touched and he leaned down to press his lips against hers.

She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him, and every damn worry in his head fled. He swept his tongue into her mouth, tangling with her taste and texture. All the reasons why he shouldn’t be kissing her sailed out the window.

He was already hard and throbbing at the barest touch of her lips. He gripped her sides, attempting to hang on to a sliver of control, being mindful of her physical concerns. But she rubbed against him, more of an impatient squirm, and his control wanted to snap. He held on tighter, knowing that with their history, she was the one person with whom he needed to retain control.

Izzy’s nails scraped down his back, and he damn near lost it. He collected her hands and pulled back, noting she breathed just as fast as he did, though she wore a sly smile. “What do you want?”

She rubbed against him again, clueless to the ledge he wobbled on. “You.”

That one sign did something funny to him. He wasn’t used to being wanted. Wasn’t used to someone knowing some of his faults and still wanting more. He wasn’t used to any of this. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you.”

She took his hand and backed out of the kitchen, down the hall, eyes hot on him the entire time. He stumbled after her. She could have walked right into a fire pit and he’d have followed.

In his room, she pointed to the bed and he lay down, heart hammering, body pulsing, in this woman’s complete control. She rubbed her chin, face scrunched in concentration, then signed, “Clothes off,” with such precision he forgot her newbie ASL status. He yanked off his shirt, shoved down his pants, until he lay there in his socks and boxer briefs, dick trying in vain to get through the flap of fabric.

Izzy pointed to his feet. “Socks.”

Right. He crossed one leg, then the other, removing the offending items.

Her eyes raked him up and down, as though she liked what she saw, and anticipation threatened to steal his sanity. Then she gathered the hem of her silky green top and pulled it over her head.

He forgot how to breathe. Her full breasts struggled in the white nursing bra she wore, the clasps on the sides he’d learned were convenient but not for him. Then she undid the buckle on her beige pants and shimmied them down her long legs, and Nolan was pretty sure his heart stopped beating as well. She was gorgeous, all of her.

Izzy took a step toward the bed, then stopped and reached behind her. The next thing he knew her bra was on the floor, those full breasts and tight nipples bared to his view, and now his mouth went dry. She was killing him with her beauty, no other way around it.

But when she climbed onto the bed and straddled him, all his vital functions sprang back to life. He ran his hands up her legs to her waist, an aching need to touch those breasts. Slow and steady. He didn’t know everything about her body or what she wanted and needed, not yet, but he knew to be careful and ensure her pleasure.

She kissed him and his hands moved to her back, holding her close, the tips of her breasts somehow cool against his overheated skin. She shifted the center of her against his erection, and he considered doing math equations to keep from finishing too soon. Then she deepened the kiss, and he lost himself in the wonder of her.

His hands worked to her sides, caressing skin as he inched to her breasts. A rumble of a moan vibrated through her and she lifted an inch, giving him access to her nipples. He took it. Gentle swipes against her peaks, as she rested against his shoulders, eyes shut in pleasure. His dick demanded to be freed and plow into her, but he kept at his pace, even as his entire body yearned for more.

She held her weight with one hand, the other trailing down his body, making lazy circles on his skin, before she shifted and those same lazy circles began over his dick. He throbbed, painfully hard. She freed him and he sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around him and pumped.

He closed his eyes, and her body moved. Before he could open them, her lips were around his dick, and he forced his hips not to lurch forward. She swallowed him farther and he opened his eyes, needing to see her long hair swept behind her as she sucked him. His dick kicked and Izzy grinned. His heart damn near rolled over and waved a white flag with Izzy’s face imprinted on it.

She sucked harder. His balls tingled, and he knew he had to make some move or she wouldn’t get her fill. “Stop.” He prepared to explain, but the sly grin on her face told him she knew exactly what she did to him.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

He slipped out of his boxers, reached for a condom, and rolled it on. “How do you want it?”

Izzy bit her lip. Then a twinkle damn near glistened in her eyes. She stepped out of her panties and he traced her skin, waiting for her. She climbed onto the bed, ass high in the air, eyebrows raised, and he nearly lost his battle right then and there.

He kissed her fast and hard before moving around behind her. She glistened between her legs, and he swiped a finger against her folds, finding her wet and warm and everything he wanted. Then he pushed in slowly before checking on her.

“More.”

For someone who’d been worried about sex after having a kid, she had an appetite for more than a light fuck. He pulled back before pushing in, her body lurching at the action. And then he forced himself to stop, checking on her.

She glared at him. “More.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

He gave her what she asked for, hard thrusts from behind, filling her with him. The caveman inside wanted to rip off the condom and take her flesh to flesh. But he knew the risks in that act.

Those thoughts didn’t dampen his drive. He bent around her, reaching forward, rubbing her nipple. She shook under him, her body tightening against him, and he increased his pace, mindful of only their mutual needs, of fueling her as much as he could.

The tingling started again and he increased his pressure, holding back until her quakes slowed, until her breathing regulated; then, and only then, did he let himself go.

He pulled out, even though he wanted to stay in her warmth. She collapsed to a sitting position, and he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Soft, sweet, nothing like the sex they just had.

When he pulled back, her cheeks were flushed.

There’d never been anyone like Izzy. And he had a sneaking suspicion there never would be.