*Isabella's POV*
"Right," Jacob muttered, dragging a hand through his hair with that careless sigh he did when he was done thinking. "But did you talk to him?" I asked, my voice trembling even though I tried to sound casual. "I mean, how the hell is this supposed to work, Jacob?"
He looked at me then, eyes dark and unreadable. "He knows. Don't worry about it," he said simply—but there was something dangerous, something unspoken, in his tone. My stomach twisted with unease, but before I could push further, his gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, reminding me exactly how little I was wearing. The damn towel suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.
"I'm thirsty," he said, lips curving into a smirk. "Let's go downstairs."
I nodded mutely, and we made our way down the hall and stairs, the air thick with tension. The house was dim, eerily quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. But then, I saw him.
Damien.
He was standing there in the dark, shirtless, leaning against the counter like some kind of sin sculpted out of shadow and moonlight. His eyes were on me, locked on me. That same fucking intense, predatory glint that made my skin heat and my stomach twist with dangerous want.
Jacob's arm was still wrapped around my waist, pulling me close, grounding me… but all I could see was Damien. His chest rising slowly. His jaw tight. His stare cutting straight through the tension until I could barely breathe.
He didn't look away, not once. And fuck me, I couldn't either. There was something in that look, something feral, something that said he remembered every goddamn second of that kiss.
Jacob bent down, his lips brushing against my neck, soft at first, then rougher, hungrier. My breath hitched. My eyes stayed on Damien. And his jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly, like he was fighting something inside him.
The air between us felt alive, electric—too heavy to breathe in. My whole body ached with confusion, lust, and guilt all twisted into one fucked-up knot.
I wanted Damien. God, I fucking wanted him again.
His gaze burned through me, a silent invitation—or maybe a warning.
My pulse was racing. My thoughts were screaming. And my heart whispered the one question I was too scared to answer:
Should I?
He took a slow, deliberate step closer to us, and fuck—my stomach clenched so tight I could barely breathe. The air felt charged, thick with tension, like the whole goddamn room was holding its breath.
"Are you sure you want this, doll?" Jacob's low, rough voice brushed against my ear, his words dripping with heat and warning all at once. His breath was warm on my skin, his tone laced with danger and promise. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Fucking hell—words completely failed me, trapped somewhere between Jacob's teasing lips and my desperate, burning need for Damien.
"Isabella…"
The way Damien said my name—holy shit. It rolled off his tongue like a damn prayer and a sin all at once. Never in my fucking life had my name sounded so goddamn good. Deep. Rough. Commanding. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
I turned toward him, every nerve in my body alive, begging for what I knew was wrong and still wanting it anyway. My voice trembled when I finally said it, breathless, reckless.
"I'm sure."
That was all it took.
Damien closed the distance in two slow, predatory steps, his hand snaking around my waist with a firm, possessive grip that made my breath hitch. And then—fuck—his lips crashed into mine. The kiss wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was raw, hungry, and goddamn dominating.
His mouth claimed mine like he owned me, like he'd been starving for this. His fingers dug into my skin, pulling me closer until I could feel every inch of him pressed against me. The world around us vanished—there was only the heat, the taste of him, the sound of our ragged breaths.
I melted into him, completely undone, lost in the chaos of wanting what I shouldn't—and not giving a single fuck anymore.
The hungry kiss from last night was long forgotten. This was something else entirely. Damien was kissing me with everything he had, closing the last bit of distance between us with his strong, possessive hands, taking what he wanted like it was his goddamn right. His mouth was a goddamn invasion, and I was letting him win, surrendering to the raw, dominating force of him.
Just as I was about to completely fucking dissolve into him, an arm—Jacob's arm—snaked around my waist, strong and unyielding. The world spun in a dizzying blur of motion and want, and suddenly I wasn't facing Damien anymore. I was slammed back against Jacob's hard chest, and a second later, I was back in his lustful embrace as his lips found mine, claiming me just as fiercely. It was a different kind of fire, familiar and fucking scorching, and I lost myself all over again, my mind a complete goddamn mess.
Before my brain could even catch the fuck up, or even fathom how deep I'd already dived into this shit, I felt a tug from behind. Damien. His fingers hooked into the plush fabric of my towel, and with one slow, deliberate pull, he fucking stripped it away. The soft sound of it hitting the floor was deafening in the charged silence, leaving me standing there, stark fucking naked, trapped between them.
"Beautiful," I heard Damien growl from behind me, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrated right through my skin. But shit, I was too far gone, too lost in the feel of Jacob's hands roaming my back, his lips devouring me, to even process a goddamn thing. Embarrassment? What the fuck was that? All I knew was the heat, the hands, the overwhelming, fucked-up perfection of being wanted by them both.