Rescued by the billionaire

CHAPTER EIGHT: New beginnings

ISOBEL

I made a friend at Amanda's cooking class, the class having been designed as a mother-daughter duo, but I was happy to be here, learning alongside Amanda, and bonding with her over the shared experience; as I thought about the class, and my life with Amanda, I couldn't help but wonder about my own mother, if I even had one; the questions swirled in my mind, had she been looking for me all these years, or had she given up, did I even matter to her; but then I thought about Aaron and Amanda, and the life they'd given me, the love and care they'd shown me, and I realized that maybe I didn't need to know about my past to be happy; for the first time, it felt like I wanted for nothing more, like I'd found a new family, a new sense of belonging, and that was all that mattered.

Aaron had gotten me a phone, and I had only a handful of contacts saved on it - Aaron's, Amanda's, Dr. Dallas's, my therapist's, Lily's, and now Sky's, my new friend from cooking class; with only six contacts to choose from, my phone life was pretty simple; but on this particular day, I found myself with nothing to do, Aaron having left for work a little earlier than usual, leaving me home alone; I tried to occupy myself by watching TV, but it wasn't the same without Aaron sitting beside me, and I found myself glancing at his side of the couch, feeling a pang of loneliness; just as I was starting to feel like the silence was suffocating me, my phone rang, breaking the stillness, and I checked the screen to see Sky's name flashing; I picked up, eager to hear her voice through the phone, and break the monotony of my day.

"Hey, girlfriend!" she greeted enthusiastically over the phone, her voice bright and teasing. I couldn’t help but smile at the sound of her voice. "Hey," I replied with a soft laugh.

"What are you doing right now?" she asked, her tone casual but with that familiar hint of mischief.

"Nothing important," I answered, glancing lazily at the screen in front of me. "Just trying to watch a movie and relax a little."

"I'm on my way to pick you up," she announced abruptly, and before I could get another word in or ask where we were going, the call ended with a quick click. Typical her — spontaneous and impossible to say no to.

Not long after, we arrived at the mall. She walked with purpose, barely giving me time to take in the storefronts before she grabbed my hand and practically dragged me into a brightly lit store. To my surprise — and slight embarrassment — we ended up in the women’s underwear section. Without hesitation, she started picking out various lacy and colorful pairs, holding them up to examine before shoving a few at me with a wicked grin.

“You’ll look so sexy in this,” she said playfully, flashing a smile that made it hard to tell whether she was serious or just trying to make me blush. Either way, I couldn’t stop laughing as I stood there, holding an armful of lingerie in the middle of the store, wondering how I always ended up in situations like this with her.

In the end, I somehow walked out of the store carrying a bag filled with five pairs of matching underwear sets — all chosen by her, of course. I stared down at the bag in disbelief, half-laughing, half-regretting the spontaneous shopping spree.

“What am I even supposed to do with all of this?” I asked, holding the bag up and giving her a look that was part amusement, part exasperation.

She turned to me with a mischievous grin and a glint in her eye, not missing a beat. “Why not wear them for Aaron?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she nudged me playfully.

I felt my cheeks flush instantly, the warmth rushing to my face before I could even form a response. All I could do was laugh and shake my head, trying to hide the deepening blush that gave me away completely.

“We don’t have that kind of relationship,” I said quickly, trying to brush it off with a casual wave of my hand.

But she didn’t let it go. Tilting her head slightly, she gave me a curious look and asked, “But… do you want to?”

Her question hung in the air for a second, heavier than I expected. Before I could answer, she continued, clearly on a roll and not about to back down. “Look, men are slow. They rarely know what they want until someone puts it right in front of their face and practically spells it out for them,” she said, shrugging like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

“And Aaron? He’s a whole other case,” she added, lowering her voice like she was letting me in on a secret. “That guy has never been seen with a woman—until you, by the way. You’ve completely thrown everyone off.”

I blinked, surprised. “Wait, what do you mean?”

She leaned in slightly, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Most people thought he was gay. Like, fully convinced. But I’ve heard from reliable sources—real live testimonies, thank you very much—that he’s definitely not.”

Then she winked, as if sealing her words with a playful stamp of certainty. “So, who knows? Maybe you’re exactly what he didn’t know he was looking;

---

I got home to find that Aaron was already there, casually lounging in the living room like he belonged there—like we belonged together. As I stood in the doorway and looked at him, Sky’s words kept echoing in my mind, repeating themselves like a song stuck on loop. *Do you want to?* *Men don’t know what they want until we show them.* Her voice had been teasing, but it stirred something in me I hadn’t expected.

I let my eyes linger on Aaron, really seeing him for the first time in a while—not just as my friend or housemate, but as a man. And God, he was beautiful. The soft light from the window caught the angles of his face just right, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the quiet strength in his posture, and those lips—full, effortless, and entirely distracting.

I wasn’t exactly what you’d call an experienced lover. My romantic life so far had been more theory than practice, but I’d watched enough movies and read enough late-night confession threads to understand the kind of pleasure that could come from something as simple, as intimate, as a kiss. The thought of his mouth on mine—or on my skin—made my stomach twist in a way that was equal parts nervousness and curiosity. It felt bold even to imagine it, but suddenly, it didn’t seem so far-fetched.

---

Aaron was a man of few words—always had been. But somehow, he didn’t need to speak for me to understand him. I could read him in the way his eyes softened when they met mine, in the quiet gestures he made without thinking, like handing me a mug of tea before I even asked, or the way he lingered in the room a little longer when I looked tired or overwhelmed. It wasn’t dramatic or loud. It was subtle, steady, and so perfectly him. And I loved that I could see those things, feel those things, without him ever having to say a word.

Still, part of me wished he *would* say something. Anything. Something that confirmed what I kept sensing between us. A look, a touch, an honest confession—something that would bridge the space between my hope and his silence.

*Men don’t know what they want until we show them.*

Sky’s words came rushing back, looping through my mind like a mantra I hadn’t meant to memorize. I told myself I didn’t believe her, but my body was betraying me. There was a heat building low in my belly, a tension that was growing by the second, and before I knew it, I felt it—an ache, deep and insistent, right between my legs.

It caught me off guard, sudden and undeniably real. And uncomfortable. Damn, it was uncomfortable.

I shifted in place, trying to ignore it, but the pressure only intensified. My thoughts spiraled to all those movie scenes—how the girls would sneak off when they felt like this, how they’d touch themselves quietly, almost desperately, to soothe the craving no one else knew about. I had never really understood it before. But right now, in the quiet of my home with Aaron just few feet away and Sky’s voice still whispering in my mind… I understood it all too well.

I was jolted out of my daydream by the sound of Aaron’s voice cutting through the haze in my mind.

“Isobel?” he said once.

“Isobel,” he repeated, a little louder.

“Isobel,” he called for a third time, his voice now edged with concern.

That’s when I finally blinked and responded, my head snapping slightly in his direction as reality came crashing back in.

“Huh? Yeah—sorry,” I murmured, trying to sound casual, even though I was anything but.

He was standing a few feet away, staring at me with those serious, deep-set eyes, his brows drawn together in worry. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, his tone quiet but attentive, like he was trying to read more in my silence than I was ready to give.

I smiled—or maybe I blushed. Honestly, I couldn’t tell anymore. My cheeks were hot, and everything inside me felt too tight, too full, like my skin couldn’t quite contain what was happening beneath it. I needed to get out of this room. I needed space. Distance. Something to cool the heat pooling low in my belly, to calm the ache that was quickly becoming unbearable.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, biting the inside of my cheek. Something felt off—wet. I froze for a second. Was it… urine? No, I didn’t *think* so. It didn’t feel like that. It was different—warmer, slicker. All I knew was that my panties were damp. Very damp. Uncomfortably, embarrassingly wet. I clenched my thighs subtly, trying to keep composed under Aaron’s gaze, but it was no use. Every inch of me was on edge, and the last place I needed to be was standing there with *him*, acting like everything was normal.

I forced a laugh and stepped back, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom, anything to escape the weight of his eyes and the tension humming between us.

Finally in my room, I closed the door behind me and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My hand went straight to the button of my jeans_needed them off. I pushed them down slowly, and underneath, my panties clung to me, soft and damp, I slipped them down too feeling a growing ache.

As I lay on the bed, and touched myself, I didn’t really know what I was doing - my mind a blur of nerves and desire but as I began to move up and down, rubbing in just the right spot, something shifted, the friction sent a jolt through me, and I let out a shaky breath, my hips found rhythm slow at first, guided by more pressure and pleasure all while thinking about him.