I paused, then smirked just a little. Since Isis wanted to be nosy and funny, I decided to paint her a clear picture ofthatroom… with my words.
“Oh, and that room?” I tilted my head slightly, voice dropping into that tone that always hit nerves.
“Yeah… it’s special.”
I let that hang before I laid the truth out bare.
“That’s where Chesteria used to sleep in one of my hoodies after we fucked. Where she’d fall asleep with her leg over me, mouth open, drooling on my chest ‘cause she felt safe. That’s where she moaned my name; where she cried one minute, then came harder the next. That’s where we argued, made up, and then made the headboard knock ‘til the damn walls told us tochill.”
Isis's lips parted, eyes flicking to the cabin like she suddenly needed to see it for herself. She probably wasn’t even imagining Chesteria getting all that pleasure; maybe she was picturing herself wishing she knew what it felt like to be wanted, held, and memorized like that. Or what it felt like to get tongue-fucked slow with both of our eyes locked on each other the whole time, and drilled so good that she cried in tongues, and came back to Earth confused on what day it was. Hell, she probably was mentally writing her own vows on the pillowcases.
Too bad.
That wasn’t her story…and never would be.
“And yeah…” I continued. “I used to write love notes on her body with my tongue… mark places only I knew. We did whole soul ties, backflips, sideways blessings, and shit that probably violated a few spiritual codes. That room got memories andrealhistory; the kindIfeel in my bones when I wake up and realize she ain’t next to me no more.”
Isis stood there, rendered speechless. Her face shifted with envy, shock, and a little heartbreak she tried to blink away.
“Oh, and I didn’t leave her; it was a mutual decision. Now don’t ask me shit else about her or our relationship. Hopefully that answered all your lil’ dumbass wonderings before yo’ mouth get you hurt.”
“Well, what—”
“Isis!” I snapped, and my voice echoed against the trees. “Leave. It. The. Fuck. At.That!”
Isis flinched like she finally heard me for the first time.
“You ever heard the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’?” I tilted my head, eyes narrowing just enough to make her rethink everything. “Keep pushing, and it’s gon’ take yo’ nosy ass out too… right next to it, under a headstone that say,‘Here Lies Curiosity. She Asked One Too Many Damn Questions. She Should’ve Minded Her Business.’Now, the best thing for you to do is to shut the fuck up for the remainder of the night.”
Isis fake-giggled, like I didn’t just borderline threaten her entire existence. Then she stepped in front of me, pressing her hand down my chest like her touch had weight there, and as if that would soften me.
“You need to relax,” she smiled, trying to make it flirty. “You’retoodamn fine to be walking around all tense and serious. And how can I be quiet the rest of the night if we’re supposed to have… you know… sex tonight?” she whispered in a coquettish voice.
Sex was thefurthestthing on my mind; well, with her, anyway. If it were Chesteria in that bed… different story.
Her in my shirt, legs shaking, back arched? Yeah… that I’d make time for. But Isis? Nah.
“That shit ain’t happening,” I shut down flatly and firmly, brushing her hand off me.
Isis stepped back, jaw dropping in disbelief. “Wait, are you telling me I brought my limited-edition Savage Classy Lace-n-Feathers set fornothing?Do youknowhow much that costme?! It was custom ordered… handcrafted, Bryce—handcrafted—with imported satin from France and Swarovski crystals on the straps!”
She kept going, waving her hands like I gave a fuck about fabric origin.
“You have no idea what I went through to—”
“I don’t give a damn if it was stitched together by God and Rihanna herself. You could’ve shown up in gold-plated diamonds and a halo; you still ain’t getting touched.”
Isis finally shut the hell up. Her eyes were wide like she wanted to cry, scream, orboth.
“Now… like I said, keep quiet for the rest of the night.” I stepped closer. “And just so you know, bears are known to roam these woods…realones…hungryones. They don’t give a fuck about BBLs, wig glue, mink lashes, or the fact that you just got that lace melted yesterday. Out here? That ass you paid for just makes you easier to drag. You’re basically wrapped bait.”
I watched her face fall, but I wasn’t done.
“Wolves too… and not the fairy tale kind either, but the kind that track sound, breath, and movement. So keep that mouth of yours shut or pray you fast enough to outrun teeth. And if not?” I shrugged. “They’ll be flossin’ with yo’ hairline before sunrise.”
None of that shit was true; well,someof it. The part about wolves tracking sound, breath, and movement? Yeah, that was facts. But Isis was too damn gullible to know the difference between a Discovery Channel documentary and my bullshit, so I fed it to her cold, brutal, and dressed in just enough truth to make her shut the hell up.
She nodded slowly, lips pressed tight now.
