I must admit, watching Izzy fumble her way through the remaining minutes of her shift is comical, even if it shouldn’t be. But, it only proves one thing.

Not a damn thing’s changed between her and I.

Izzy still loves me, even if I broke her heart by taking so fucking long to come back to her. It didn’t do my heart any fucking favors to find out she’d moved on and was dating Chad Easton within a month of me leaving, either, if I’m being honest. But, I get it. I left her here. Served me right to find out she was with someone else.

Part of me really thought she’d wait for me. But seeing as it only took her a goddamn month to sweep me under the rug, she didn’t exactly give me a reason to come back before now.

That said, I also saw the way she trembled and heard the way her breath caught in her throat when I pushed myself against her back and nipped at her ear. I’d say she didn’t do a very good job of ridding herself of me.

Izzy still wants me, just as fucking bad as I want her.

I won’t make the same mistake twice.

I push my empty coffee cup away from me, sending a curt nod toward Blake and Rodney. “I’ll pay for ‘em, boys. Now, go on. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Blake’s eyes narrow. “You got something up your sleeve, man?”

“None of your damn business,” I reply. It takes every fucking ounce of decency I have not to grin like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“You’re going to try to wrangle Isabelle,” Rodney chimes in. “Good fucking luck, dude. She hates your guts, it’s safe to say.”

“I said I’ll catch up with you later,” I repeat a bit more sternly.

Both Blake and Rodney exchange a quick glance, but they slide out of the booth.

“Like I said,” Rodney mutters, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Good fucking luck.”

I watch them leave, knowing how far Rodney’s assessment is from the truth. Not only does luck have nothing to do with it, but I also know damn well I don’t have to wrangle Izzy into anything. She can pretend to hate me all she wants, but I’ve already got her, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

* * *

Ten minutes ago, Isabelle’s shift ended. Which means she’s nine minutes late.

I’d left a ten-dollar bill on the table, tucked under my coffee cup, and had disappeared into the ladies’ room as soon as I was damn sure there wasn’t anyone else in there. No one saw me come in, and the fact that there’s only a handful of people in the diner and every one of them are male means I can safely assume we’ll have a quiet moment to ourselves.

All she has to do is show up.

My courage is deflating more and more with each passing minute, and I’m about to leave when I hear the door open.

Izzy is peeking in through the partially opened door, her eyes wide and wary.

I stand there in the middle of the room, silently willing her to come in of her own accord. Don’t make me fucking beg.

After a long moment, she steps inside, pushing the door closed gently behind her. The moment the door clicks shut, I close the gap between us and reach past her to flick the lock into place.

“Jace, I don't know—”

“No, you don't.”

Then, my mouth is on hers. I don't remember lowering my face toward her, or pushing her up against the wall behind the door, but our tongues are entwined, frantically exploring and searching each other for something neither of us can define. Something neither of us has felt in three years. I’d be narcissistic to believe Isabelle hasn't had her fair share of men and sexual experiences since I've been gone, but judging by the sudden fervor with which she's melding herself to me and grinding her hips against my cock, already straining against the zipper of my jeans, I’d say she’s been missing something.

And I am narcissistic enough to believe that something is me.

“You left me—”

“Shh, Izzy. Don’t think,” I instruct her. “Don’t fucking talk.” I press my rock-hard cock against her, and she whimpers. Such a sexy fucking sound. “We don’t have much time, so don’t waste it.”

To hell with her shirt. I dip my hands under the hem, pulling it up. Just as roughly, I pull her bra down, letting one callused hand squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple. Another sharp sounds emits from her throat.

I kiss and taste a trail along her jaw, whispering in her ear. “Keep quiet, Izzy. You get us caught, there’ll be hell to pay.”

When I bring my head back to meet her gaze, it’s locked on me, and her eyes are wide. For the briefest of moments, there’s no sound, no movement, only the pulsing of heartbeats between us. A silent agreement.

Then, Izzy’s fingers are fumbling with my belt, unzipping the zipper, and pushing my jeans down over my hips. My cock springs free, and Izzy’s unable to keep from staring.

“Oh God.” The words tumble from her lips on a sigh, and immediately she reaches between us to touch me.

I clasp her wrist in mine, stopping her just before her fingertips reach their target. “Not a fucking chance,” I hiss out hoarsely.

Her eyes are wide, thinking she’s done something wrong.

“I’ve waited too fucking long to have you again, Izzy.” My confession pours from me like molten steel. “To hell with the foreplay.”

“But—”

I clamp a hand over her mouth, my own eyes blazing into hers. “What did I tell you earlier?” I whisper, my gaze flitting toward the still-closed door and back again. “You’re going to get us caught.”

I remove my hand only long enough to replace it with my mouth, shutting her up in the most satisfying way I can think of. I kiss her hard, longer than I’ve ever kissed her or anyone before, desperate to make her breathless and gasping for more of me. When I pull my mouth away this time, I hear the words I’ve longed to roll off that delicate tongue of hers.

“Oh, Jace...please…”

I’d smile like I just won a fucking prize if I wasn’t so painfully hard and aching to bury myself inside her. The sound of her begging me—begging for me—breaks something within me. Hell, maybe it puts something inside me back together, I don’t know. But I’m lost, consumed by my primal need to have her, to feel the sweet heat of her center enwrapping my cock as I take her relentlessly.

Isabelle helps to undo her jeans and push them down her legs. She steps out of them, and I tackle her back up against the wall just before sliding my hands down her hips and gripping her ass, pulling her up against me. “Hold onto me,” I demand through forced breath.

Izzy obeys, hitching one leg up around my hips, then the other.

Such a good girl, I think. Let’s see if I can find the bad girl she used to be with me.

I drag a finger along her slit, already glistening with her desire for me. Her breath comes out in a ragged breath and her head tilts back against the wall as her eyes flutter, but Izzy doesn’t speak.

“Good girl,” I whisper out loud. “Now, hold on.”

I position myself at her entrance and push, hard, burying myself to the hilt within her. Izzy’s mouth opens, and I can feel every inch of her constricting in response. She stays quiet save for the faintest, “Oohh,” that falls from her lips.

She feels even better than I remember, if that’s possible. I thrust into her, watching in fascination as her eyes squint each time I dive in, and her breath lets go each time I pull back. She’s so tight, so wet...so fucking perfect.

“Jesus,” I huff, raising one hand against the wall above her head to steady myself, the other still gripping her hip firmly, guiding her to me. Izzy meets each thrust of my hips with a roll of her own, and I quicken my pace.

She’s mine. The words tumble around in my head on a continuous loop as I pound into her, one deep thrust after another. She’s fucking mine. And right now, she is. I own her, every creamy, sweat-glistened inch of her. I fill her completely, unfazed by the rhythmic knocking sound as I slam her back against the wall, or the sinful, muffled whimpers falling from her lips with the pleasure and pain of it all.

I lean forward, using my nose to push her shirt out of the way again, finding her breast with my mouth and sucking hard on her nipple.

“Oh!”

I pull my head back, not once breaking the rhythm as my hips crash against hers.

My eyes are locked on hers. “I told you...not to talk.” I can barely speak with the exertion of my movements, but she knows she’s made a grave mistake.

I don’t hold back, fucking Izzy harder and faster, a relentless, rhythmic bid for release. Hers and my own.

Izzy’s bottom lip is secured between her teeth, each sound she makes trapped on her tongue. But her eyes are widening. She can feel my cock twitching within her, my body reaching its breaking point. The tight clenching of her muscles and the biting sting of her fingernails, even through my t-shirt, tells me everything I need to know.

“Izzy.” The command in my voice is clear. Her eyes are fluttering and heavy-lidded as she meets my intense gaze again. “Izzy, come with me, baby.”

A few more powerful thrusts and both Isabelle and I crash together like a relentless storm, thunder and lightning scorching us from the inside out, our hearts pounding so hard and so fast I can feel hers against my own chest. “Fuck, Izzy, I love you.” The words tumble from my lips, against her ear in a fevered sigh as I slow my movements, planting soft kisses against the damp skin just below her ear.