Chapter 1: Our Finale
-Isabel-
It was the first time Cole had been in my house since I told him I was moving to California.
We sat on my couch, kissing and holding one another - and it was better than I remembered. His hands rested on my hips as I threaded my fingers through his hair. Each kiss was longer and more passionate than the last; as if it were the last we would share.
Such activities didn't need to last long before I realized that I needed to have him in a more intimate manner. And this time, I hoped he wouldn't reject.
"Cole, let's go upstairs... to my room." I whispered. His vivid green eyes met my own, flushed with a glossy haze. Desire.
If I was a betting woman, I'd say that mine probably mirrored his own.
Standing, I grabbed his hand and half led, half dragged him up the stairs and through the doorway leading into my room, half kicking and half slamming it shut.
The moment that door clicked shut, Cole turned on. He turned, slamming me into the wall and, instantly, his lips met my neck.
Rolling my hips against his, my head lolled to the side as I let out perhaps the girlish sigh I had ever even heard in all of my years of life. It was sort of embarrassing, but then I remembered - that was probably the last thing on Cole's mind. At the feel of my hips sliding against his, he let out a breathy groan that heated my skin underneath his lips as his teeth skimmed the edge of my collarbone, searching for a specific spot.
Cole's lips came to rest at the crook of my neck, in the soft hollow where my collarbone met my throat. Tilting his head forward, I could feel a soft pinch as he took my skin between his teeth and nibbled, sucking the sensitive, heated flesh and running his tongue over it.
I threw my head back (which was a bad idea on my part, since the slam that came from it colliding with the door almost startled us both into stopping) - and groaned, a sharp intake of breath that chilled the nerves of my teeth.
I was almost so distracted by where his lips were that I nearly forgot about where his hands had been going this entire time.
Calloused from years of doing God-knows-what, his fingers brushed every inch of my skin, igniting it. His hands roamed my body freely, running down my shoulder blades, sliding past the small of my back, settling on my stomach and inner thigh - you name it.
I had a feeling that he was no longer holding back, and I couldn't wait for him to really let it loose.
-Cole-
Half of me couldn't believe this was really, actually and truly happening, and the other half was too busy ravaging Isabel to really notice its counterpart.
I vaguely thought of every girl I had ever been with and all of the emotions that followed - and none of them could even compare to right here, right now, with Isabel. (And we weren't even in bed yet!)
She's barely doing anything (other than arching her back to lean into me and rolling her hips in such a way I thought I'd nearly explode), and she's making me feel unlike any other experience I'd had. (And I've had a lot of experiences.)
My fuzzy, light-headed brain managed to register the feeling, however, of her delicate hand sliding down my abdomen and to my jeans, toying with the zipper. Between the kisses and marks I left on her collarbone and throat; I sucked in a breath, pulling back in the slightest to take everything in.
Her long, perfectly tanned legs - tantalizingly short shorts, flat stomach - hidden beneath a pesky tank top that was bunched and rolled up as she slid against my own abdomen - and the tiny bit of black lace that peeked from the top of her now lopsided shirt.
