But that didn’t stop Isla from letting Tamsyn steer her toward the beds or being pushed back onto the mattress. And it certainly didn’t stop Isla from opening her legs just a little as Tamsyn crawled over her. It was the opposite, really. She was soaked. And the only one who could do something about that was the raven-haired beauty who was currently kissing her neck.
“Fuck,” Isla muttered as she placed both hands on Tamsyn’s hips. “This isn’t what I imagined we’d be doing tonight.”
“Really?” Tamsyn asked, pulling back just a little. “Because this is exactly what I thought would happen.”
Isla laughed, which then turned into a moan as Tamsyn pressed her lips to her sternum, then her breasts, and then her nipple, which she swiped over and over with her tongue until Isla couldn’t take it anymore. She needed more contact. Lots more.
Tamsyn somehow read her mind. She slid her hand down Isla’s thigh, then drifted her fingers back up between her legs,just grazing over Isla’s wet folds like a feather. Then she moved her body so that her leg slotted between Isla’s thighs, hitting Isla’s center with just the right amount of pressure... not at all like a feather.
“Fuck,” Isla muttered again, though this time her breath was ragged and raspy. And for good reason. Tamsyn was rolling her hips in a way that had her thigh hitting Isla’s center over and over again. The feeling was so good that her head was dizzy. Together with Tamsyn’s hot breath on her neck, her lips making little suction cups that could leave a mark, Isla was floating in another world. A world where she wasn’t the one being pleasured, but she was doing all the pleasuring.
“Sit on my face,” Isla said quickly before Tamsyn picked up the pace. Another few rolls of her hips and Isla had no doubt that an orgasm would rip right through her body.
Tamsyn stopped kissing her and caught her eye and for a second Isla thought Tamsyn would say no—not everyone liked sitting on people’s faces, though Isla couldn’t understand why not—but then Tamsyn smiled and before Isla knew it, she was shifting herself toward the top of the bed. Isla was suddenly unhappy that Tamsyn had clicked off the lights. She could just see the outline of her breasts and her thighs. But it wasn’t enough. Isla wanted to see all of Tamsyn, every bit of her, as she straddled her face and moved her hands to grip the backboard of the bed.
But no matter.
Isla gripped the back of Tamsyn’s thighs, her fingers fanning just beneath her lovely ass, and then she lifted her face just an inch before sticking out her tongue and swiping it through her slick folds. Tamsyn shuddered. Which was all Isla needed to carry on. She licked and swirled her tongue, focusing entirely on Tamsyn’s sex, and then, when Tamsyn’s hips started lifting up and down, Isla used the movement to explore her clit.
She sucked and sucked and considered bringing in a finger, but honestly, the way Tamsyn was moaning like she could wake every wild animal around, there was no need. Besides, Isla was feeling hotter than the fucking sun. Which was why she moved her right hand down between her own thighs and began fingering herself to the beat of her tongue.
Luckily, her orgasm was just around the corner.
Nope. It was spreading right through her, and it had everything to do with Tamsyn sitting on her face and very little to do with the pressure she applied to her own clit.
“Oh. My. Fuck!” Tamsyn moaned so loudly that Isla’s fingers came to a complete stop.
Not her tongue, though. She kept that going and going until Tamsyn’s ass clenched and she raised her hips out of reach from Isla’s tongue. She lifted one leg up and over Isla and moved to lie next to her. “That was fucking amazing,” Tamsyn added, but she was so breathless that the words came out incoherent.
Not that Isla cared. Because in that moment, as her orgasm faltered to a pleasant buzz, the reality of what they’d done came crashing in like a wrecking ball.
Dammit!
ISLA REGRETTED A FEWthings in her life. At twenty, she’d bleached her hair ice blonde because a casting director told her it would make her more ‘sellable.’ But all it had done was fry her hair into brittle straw that snapped off in the shower. At twenty-three, she’d turned down a steady commercial skincare contract in New York because she was convinced Paris Fashion Week would change everything. It didn’t. And that same year she’d blown through all her savings on the rent for a tiny sixth-floor walk-up in Le Marais because it looked influential on Instagram.The view wasn’t regrettable so much as the part where Isla had to beg Mallory to help cover her rent until she found consistent modeling work. Mallory had helped. But she’d also never let Isla forget it. Which was why Isla had sworn she’d rather crawl over broken glass for the rest of her life than ask her sister for anything again.
Still, none of those regrets compared to the monumental disaster she’d created for herself last night. Not only had she slept with Tamsyn, she’d also initiated the kiss. She was the one who had suggested they put their friendship status on hold, which wasn’t just stupid; it was irresponsible.
What the hell had she been thinking?
Or, more like, she hadn’t thought at all. The stars. The wine. The way Tamsyn looked at her with those deep brown eyes, the way her lips had so lusciously puckered and pulled every time she’d spoken. By the time the plates were empty, Isla could think of nothing other than swiping her tongue over those lips and devouring Tamsyn. Which she had. But that was exactly how she had complicated everything.
Isla forced her thoughts back where they belonged, out of existence, and focused on the path ahead of her. The track to the watering well wound through red dirt and flat, sun-bleached stones. On either side of the path stood river red gums with bark peeling in soft ribbons. Above, the sky was an aggressively cloudless blue that made everything feel exposed. Her most of all.
She flicked her gaze up just enough to catch the back of Petra’s long black hair, braided and swinging between her shoulder blades. Six metal water bottles were slung over her shoulder, clinking as she walked. She’d offered to fill them for everyone and very specifically insisted Isla come along. Which was obviously a ruse to get her alone. Isla would’ve been worried if she weren’t so desperate to get away. Tamsyn had spent themorning back at camp, laughing and acting entirely normal. Which Isla couldn’t seem to do because every time she looked at Tamsyn her body locked up as her brain replayed the exact moment Tamsyn had returned the kiss. The way her hand had slid into Isla’s hair. That little moan that...
Ugh. There it was again. She shoved the memory down so fast that she barely registered the well coming into view, barely even noticed Petra slowing until Petra stopped dead.
Isla nearly walked into her.
The bottles slid from Petra’s shoulder and hit the ground with a metallic clatter. Petra then turned and stepped forward toward Isla. The expression on her face was unreadable. “I’m going to ask you something,” she said evenly, brushing dust off her hands. “And you’re probably going to lie about it or make up some story. So let’s save time and just tell the truth.”
The only other person out here was Carol, the camerawoman who’d joined the team after season three. She stood several feet away with her lens trained loosely in their direction. Isla didn’t dare look at her, though she was sure she was probably wondering what the hell Petra was talking about and perhaps hoped it would be something juicy to document.
The last thing Isla wanted was for Carol and the rest of production to find out she and Tamsyn had spent last night naked and tangled in those crisp Egyptian sheets.
“What do you want to know?” Isla asked, trying not to whimper.
Petra opened her mouth, but then she seemed to notice Carol inching closer. She then sighed and leaned in before whispering, though was it low enough for Carol’s equipment not to pick it up? Isla hoped so. “Did something happen between you and Tamsyn last night? You know, something a little more than just enjoying the amenities?”
