XV

That four letter word that came to me in a dream about golden eyes kept running through my head. I had to wonder if I had manifested the feeling, or if it was something my subconscious was trying to push through, past all my preconceived notions of it. A lust driven early twenties girl was the more logical answer, but something just screamed this was more. I hated to even think it, but I kind of wanted it to be true.

Isaac was true to his word. So long as I kept my hands still, he was a perfect gentleman. The kisses proceeding were chaste, reverent. His hands didn’t wander, but his arms kept me caged in. The way he fisted the sheets showed just how hard he was working to rein himself in. The second my hands wandered, though, the sugary sweetness dissolved in the heat, a warning of just what he wanted. It was only when I had pushed a boundary he had put in place for me one too many times that he tucked me into him, my back to his chest. It took several minutes before breathing was abl