16
At first, Isabelle couldn’t read the expression on Lyle’s face. He looked as if he was absorbing her words through his skin, into his body. His shoulders looked like mountains against the early morning light filtering through her curtains. Heat radiated from his body, making her blood hum.
How much willpower could a girl summon first thing in the morning?
“Do you remember where we left off in Rome?” she murmured, rising up on one elbow. With a light shove, she urged him down onto his back. He wore a zippered hoodie. Bending her head, she used her teeth to unzip it. The hard curves of his chest made the saliva dry up in her mouth.
He was watching her so closely, so carefully.
“I’m pretty sure you were lying down like this,” she whispered. “And I was somewhere right around here.”
Sh
