ISABELLE.
Reality came crashing back in waves.
We’d just done it again. Unprotected. Fully aware of the risk this time. No excuses about being caught up in the moment or not thinking clearly.
I looked down at myself—shirt bunched around my waist, legs still spread, sitting on his dining table with evidence of what we’d just done already starting to leak out of me. The picture of debauchery.
“I should—” I gestured vaguely at myself.
“Bathroom is through there.” Matt pointed to a door off the kitchen, already tucking himself back into his joggers. His hair was a mess, his chest still heaving, but otherwise he looked remarkably composed.
How did he do that?
I slid off the table on shaky legs and limped my way to the bathroom, acutely aware of his eyes following me. Once inside, I clea
