We make up the bed together. Isabelle kicks off her shoes and slides beneath the bedding. “Wow, it’s hard as a rock, but I don’t care. It feels amazing.”
I’m standing above her smiling. I look back at the recliner, then down at her again.
“Come on.” She holds up the blanket. “You’ve got to be exhausted too.”
I’m not about to turn down the invitation to sleep horizontally. Not to mention the fact that I’ll be next to Isabelle. So, I kick off my shoes and take off my sweatshirt, leaving me in my old Honeywell High School Baseball State Champs tee and jeans. Sitting first, I see what Isabelle means about the bed being hard, but like her, I don’t care. Sliding beneath the sheet and blanket, I roll to face her.
With a yawn, Isabelle says tiredly, “I sure hope you’re not a blanket hog, Mr. Watson.”
I chuckle. “I’ll try not to be, darlin’.” I reach out and wrap my arm around Isabelle’s waist and pull her closer. She doesn’t think twice, she lays her head on my chest right next to my shoulder and curls in next to me. Her breathing evens out in seconds, and I know she’s asleep. I’m tired too, but I don’t want to go to sleep until I experience Isabelle Harmon next to me in bed. A while back I imagined what it’d be like to have her just like this. Running my palm up and down her back, I kiss the top of her head and smile. It’s better than I imagined. Way better.
26
Isabelle
I wakeup hot and confused. Oh, and practically on top of Nash Watson. Poor Nash! Peeking up at him, I see he’s sound asleep. I want to laugh because he’s got this cute little snore going on and there’s some drool around his mouth. Yep, I can’t help myself. I laugh. I do it quietly though, so I don’t wake him up. The room with all the sleep pods is dark and quiet, but it’s not so dark that I can’t see where I am, which is good because I need to use the restroom. Stat.
Looking around my current space, I see Nash’s arm is around me. Reaching down, I lift his hand and move it off, resting it back onto his hip. Scooting back, I look around, attempting to figure out how to get out of the bed without waking him up. I either need to crawl over him or I need to shimmy up to the top of the sofa bed and maneuver over the armrest so I can get out that way. I think it’ll be less work and effort if I just crawl over him. Pushing myself up to my knees, I lift one leg and place it on the other side of Nash. Kickboxing has really helped me with my balance. I’ve developed some core strength, and while I definitely don’t have abs of steel, I can do this. Next I lean down and place my left hand over to rest on the bed so I can push myself over the rest of the way. I get the first part done, but something keeps me from making the final dismount. And that something? Hands. Two large hands are on either side of my hips. “Where’re you going, babe?”
I feel his palms move up to my waist then back down, but this time, they don’t stop at my hip. This time they move down and around until they’re both smack dab on my behind. “Nash?”
When he squeezes my butt cheeks a little, I make a squeaking noise. “Nash.” This time it sounds more like a warning.
“Baby,” he says in a deep voice. His hands move up and slide beneath my shirt. When his hands touch my skin, my body comes alive. The feel of his calloused palms as they slide upward has me practically on fire. I’ve got goose bumps everywhere, and my nipples are on high alert. I’m doing my best to keep from moaning, but it ain’t easy. He adds a little pressure on my upper back, and I’m sort of forced down until my face is inches from his. “Nash?”
“Kiss me, Isabelle.”
Oh, goodness. If you could see this man right now. His hair is all messy from sleep. His grass green eyes are all hooded and sexy-like, and his beautiful lips are just... right there. How can I refuse him? So, I don’t. I lean down and kiss his soft lips. Once. Or so I thought. As I start to lift back up, I feel one of his hands end up in my hair.
“Again, Isabelle.”
Without a thought, I lean down again and kiss him, only this time, it’s not so soft and sweet. He’s turned his head and opened his mouth for this one, and I can’t help myself. I do the same. It’s a slow burn of a kiss. Exploratory. I find myself kissing first his top lip, then his bottom. Next, I nip at the lower lip, which produces a sound from Nash I’ve never heard in my life. It’s a growl. It vibrates from his chest to mine. It also causes his free hand to move downward and back onto my bottom. The squeeze this time is a little harder. I feel something against my leg. Something hard.
When both of his hands end up on my backside again, he uses those hands to press me down until I’m fully seated on top of him. I attempt to wriggle free, but his growling sound happens again. I know I should stop moving about because it makes me want to growl too. He feels good between my legs. So, yeah, I may not have much sexual experience––okay, I’ve gotnosexual experience––but I’ve read enough books to know what’s happening. We’re pressed together, and if I were to start to move back and forth, that’d be dry humping, and while that sounds interesting,veryinteresting, I don’t think that should be happening in the family sleep pods at the University of Iowa Hospital.
Sadly, I pull my mouth from his as he moves his to kiss my neck.Wow, that feels amazing. I’m about to say his name when he starts to whisper things in my ear. Nice things. Sweet things. Dirty things.
“Your skin is so soft, Isabelle. I knew you’d feel this good.”
Kiss.
“You smell like heaven.”
Kiss. Nibble.
He presses his pelvis upward, and I feel it everywhere. “God, I can’t wait to sink into you. So deep, babe. I want you in my bed.”
I say his name one more time. This time with meaning. “Nash, we can’t do this here.”
With a groan and a sigh, Nash stops kissing my neck and lays his head down on his pillow. His hands are still on my ass, and I don’t hate it. He’s running them up and down each cheek, and it feels damn good. I could get used to it, that’s for sure. “You’re right. Sorry, honey.”
His endearments are starting to get to me. I love them, all of them, but he needs to stop. Actually, he needs to stop a lot of things. I’m getting confused about what we’re doing here. He’s taking this act of us being “together” to a whole new level, but I’ll worry about that later––after we know my dad is going to be okay.
Shit.My dad. I’ve been here humping my neighbor while my poor dad is lying in intensive care with one less arm. The guilt is instantaneous. How could it not be? I quickly scoot over Nash and stand. “I’m going to the restroom; then I’m going to check on my dad.”
Nash nods but says nothing.
On my way out to the ICU, I go the long way around the pod room, so Nash doesn’t see me and decide to come along. I need to have a few minutes to myself.
