Enigma, #1, page 13
“It’s fine, I’m famished anyway.”
I also don’t want to run the risk of unearthing anything I may be forced to disclose to the FBI. I’d never intentionally spy on Isaac in private, but I did swear an oath to uphold the law, and if I stumbled upon something significantly illegal, it would be my moral obligation to inform the authorities. Wouldn’t it?
My worry settles when I overhear a portion of Isaac’s statement as I’m exiting the room.
“I need you to find a loophole in the UFC, so my fighter, Jacob, can fight a current UFC contender.”
Chapter 21
For the past half an hour, Cormack, Harlow, and I have been seated at an elegant Italian steak restaurant. The restaurant is a hive of bustling activity, but with the hum of conversations, laughing, and cutlery scraping against plates, it’s difficult for me to participate in any discussions being held across the table. The conversation between Harlow and Cormack is engaging, but it doesn’t seem appropriate for three unless you’re into that type of thing.
“Thank you,” I say in appreciation when the waiter hands me a black and gold embossed menu, grateful for the distraction. I should have listened to my intuition. I’ve always known being the third wheel on dates isn’t fun.
When I scan the prices on the elegant menu, I nearly fall off my chair. Every entrée listed costs more than I make in an entire day. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I ignore the pang of hunger rumbling in my stomach and order the most inexpensive item I can find on the menu—a side serving of salad.
“E per il vostro corso principale?” the waitress questions.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian,” I reply, praying she can understand English.
“She’s asking what you would like to order for your main course,” advises a ruggedly sexy voice.
Isaac’s scrumptious aroma engulfs my senses the instant he slides into the seat next to me. My breath hitches when he leans over and places a brief peck on my cheek.
“Sorry I’m late,” he whispers into my ear. “I had some business I had to take care of.”
This is the first time I’ve seen Isaac since our ride on the Wave Runner earlier today. I’m not sure if his meeting with Henry was for the entire afternoon or if he had other business matters to attend to. I tried to keep myself immersed in the world of Kellan Kyle, but my mind kept drifting to Isaac. My views on him have significantly swayed the past twenty-four hours. More so since I’ve yet to stumble on a shred of evidence that matches Isaac to the person his FBI file shows him to be.
“Do you know what you want?” he queries, interrupting me from my thoughts.
My hairs bristle when he runs his index finger down my arm.
“Umm… a side salad is fine.” My voice trembles from his close proximity.
“She will have the 16-ounce steak with a baked potato and a side salad.” Isaac hands her back my menu. “I’ll have the same.”
“I’m still full from lunch. That’s why I ordered a salad.”
He arches his perfect brow. “The half a club sandwich and few slices of pear you ate at lunch weren’t adequate enough to skip dinner.”
My heart rate doubles. I may not have seen him all day, but he’s clearly been watching me.
“I can’t afford two hundred dollars for a piece of steak.” My cheeks heat in embarrassment.
His lips form into his panty-clenching smirk before he leans in intimately close to my neck. My thighs shake when his breath flutters along my neckline.
“How fast can you run in those heels?”
When my confused eyes dart to his, he winks before continuing, “We either run before the bill arrives or wash dishes with Roberto for the next week.”
He gestures his head to a gentleman sauntering his way back into the restaurant from a side alley. Roberto’s white waiter’s apron barely covers his vast waistline and is covered with food and red wine stains.
“I’ll be sure to kick off these bad boys before our dessert arrives.” I click my black pump heels together. “Hold on, how do you know his name is Roberto?”
He drapes his arm behind the back of my chair. “This is pretty. Did you do something different?” He tugs on the strands of hair cascading down my back, completely ignoring my question.
I smile while nodding. “Harlow curled the ends.”
My grin enlarges over the fact he noticed the humblest change in my hairstyle. Isaac’s eyes rake over my fitted, white wrap dress before lifting to my face. His gaze is hungry. It isn’t a hunger for food.
“You look beautiful.”
His voice causes a shiver to run through my body.
“Thank you,” I reply breathlessly.
For the next two hours, I enjoy splendid food, wine, and even better company. Isaac has been the frankest I’ve ever seen him. From the stories he shared, I can easily perceive his fondness for his younger brother, Nick, and his excitement about becoming an uncle for the first time is also paramount. I feel privileged I’ve experienced a side of him not many people witness, and I’ve quickly become trapped in his incredible allure.
Isaac chuckles when I lean down and unbuckle the latch on my shoes when the waiter hands us the dessert menu. My heart leaps when he orders both of our dessert selections in fluent Italian. I’m impressed with his impeccable pronunciation and how effortlessly the words roll off his tongue.
“My nonna was Italian. She taught me to speak Italian fluently by the time I was eight,” he responds to my curious glance.
“Are you close to your nonna?” I reach for my freshly filled wine glass.
“No, she passed away five years ago.” He removes the wine glass from my hand and places it back on the table.
“I’m sorry,” I sympathize as my gaze darts back to my full glass of red wine.
“You’ve already had three glasses.”
“Yes, and I told you I don’t have a problem with my drinking.”
“You don’t have a problem, but I do.”
I cock my brow, requesting further information.
“I don’t converse with drunk women.”
He swivels his body, leaning in more intimately. I remain quiet, baffled by his statement.
“I don’t converse sexually with drunk women,” he clarifies, his unyielding eyes relaying his intentions.
Oh. My. God.
My pupils widen as a strong urge of desire runs through my body. The sexual charge between us is so strong, it crackles in the air.
My hand trembles when I accept the plate of tiramisu from the waitress, shamelessly exposing my arousal to Isaac’s statement. Sensing my excitement, Isaac places his open palm on my bare thigh. His touch sends a jolt of pleasure to my throbbing sex. Now tiramisu is the last thing on my mind.
“Are you not hungry?” Isaac questions a short time later, eyeing my untouched dessert.
Brazenly, I reply, “I’m hungry, just not for food.”
In a two-minute lusty haze, I’ve gone from being seated in the restaurant to sitting in the passenger seat of Isaac’s car. I think I murmured a goodbye to Cormack and Harlow, but my body is coiled so tight, I’ve lost the ability to focus on anything but the incredibly alluring man seated next to me.
It has been over a year since I’ve had sexual contact with a man. It’s been so long because my last bed partner squelched most of my desire. His ruggedly handsome face didn’t quite match the rest of his body—his body hair was vast, thick, and stunk like a wet dog. Our two-minute tumble in his bed didn’t create half of the spark I get from one glance of Isaac’s entrancing eyes.
I’d only just finished unlatching my bra when the whole event was over. He murmured it was the greatest sex he’d ever had, rolled onto his side, then spent the five minutes it took for me to gather my clothing off the floor and dart out of his house snoring. From that day, I’ve been apprehensive about dating until I met Isaac.
Isaac curses under his breath when a cell phone shrills through the silence of his car. The monitor on his dashboard announces he has an incoming call from Hugo.
“What?” Isaac greets, his annoyance for the interruption heard in his tone.
“Sorry for the intrusion, boss, but we have a problem with 57.” Hugo’s tone conveys his genuine regret for the interruption.
“Send Patrick,” Isaac snaps.
“I can’t. He’s away with his kids this weekend.”
Isaac’s eyes turn from the road to me. “What kind of problem?”
“The manager was vague, but he said he has some issues with a staff member issuing free drinks to his friends.”
“Why the fuck can’t the manager handle this type of situation?” Isaac interrupts, his tone stern.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens as the conversation continues. Hugo remains quiet. His ragged breaths shrilling down the line is the only reason I know he hasn’t hung up.
“It’s okay,” I assure when I see the indecisiveness in Isaac’s gaze.
“Oh, hey, Isabelle,” Hugo greets, his tone cheeky.
My lips curve into a smile over the fact Hugo can recognize my voice from only hearing me speak two simple words.
“Hi.” I bite my bottom lip.
“I’ll take care of it,” Isaac informs him before disconnecting the call without giving Hugo a chance to reply.
He leans over and frees my lip from my teeth. “Five minutes tops, and I’ll be biting that lip.”
Unable to speak through my parched mouth, I nod.
I’ve been waiting over five months, so what’s another five minutes?
Chapter 22
Isaac’s nightclub is located a few blocks over from the Italian restaurant where we were having dinner. It’s a stylish looking club that screams sex and sensuality. That saying really does work—sex does sell, and Isaac is using it to his full advantage in his nightclubs. The club is packed with patrons, and the line to get in goes all the way down the block and around the corner. Upon entering the manager’s office of his nightclub named 57, Isaac’s eyes assess the room.
There are four people seated in the impressively large manager’s office. Two male faces appear petrified, one male is smirking broadly, while the only other female in the room is glaring at Isaac’s hand wrapped around mine.
“You’re both fired,” Isaac informs them, pointing to the gentleman with shoulder-length blond hair whose nametag says ‘manager,’ and to a twenty-something-year-old male staff member.
The manager attempts a remark, but the instant Isaac’s livid eyes land on his, his mouth etches into a thin, straight line.
“If you can’t handle a situation like this in-house, then you’re not management material for my clubs,” Isaac snaps.
“You.” Isaac glares into the eyes of the employee caught stealing from him, “Will pay for any drinks you gave to your friends before you leave here tonight.”
The employee’s throat works hard to swallow as he nods.
“And if you ever step foot in any of my clubs again—”
“I won’t,” interrupts the employee, his short reply incapable of hiding his fear.
Isaac turns to face a brute of a man with a shaved head who is standing at the side of the room. He is massive. His bicep alone would be bigger than my head.
“Make sure he pays his bill before he leaves and be sure to add a very generous tip on his account for the bar staff.”
The bouncer smiles while nodding. He heads for the employee, yanking him out of the chair he’s sitting in by the scruff of his collar before dragging him out the door. Isaac relinquishes my hand and heads for the mahogany desk. His strides are effortless, yet commanding, making my pussy pulse with every step he takes. Watching Isaac in his element is a riveting experience. He’s bossy, demanding, and sexy as sin.
When he reaches the desk, he yanks open the top drawer and removes a checkbook from inside.
“This will cover your severance.” Isaac thrusts a torn-out check toward the manager.
Just as the manager is about to take the check, Isaac yanks it out of his grasp.
“Or perhaps the fact you’re leaving here unscathed should be reward enough,” he growls viciously.
Isaac crumples the check in his clenched fist before dropping it onto the desk.
His head shakes like a bobblehead toy. “Y-y-yes, thank you, boss.”
He scampers out of the office, leaving the crumpled check untouched. The veins in my neck throb when Isaac’s eyes run over my body before lifting to my face. Although most people would mistake his gaze as infuriating, I only see unbridled lust reflecting back at me.
“Come here, Isabelle,” he commands.
His lips thin into a harsh line when I shake my head, denying his request. My eyes shift to the corner of the room where the female staff member remains, watching our exchange with her mouth ajar.
“Get out.” My excitement intensifies when Isaac’s gaze never once leaves mine as he orders her out of the room.
“Boss, while you’re here, I wanted to ask…”
“Get out!” Isaac growls.
She nods before scurrying out of the room even faster than the manager did.
“Come here, Isabelle,” Isaac demands again.
His tone is clipped, but it doesn’t stop the tremor coursing through my body from my name rolling off his tongue. Although the sheer sight of him instigates wetness to pool between my legs, his gaze is unnerving. It has me pinned, unable to move.
Isaac mutters something under his breath before he moves away from the desk. He glides instead of walking as a mere man would. That’s not surprising. Nothing about him could ever be seen as mere.
His strides don’t slacken until I’m pinned between him and the heavy wooden door of the manager’s office. The lash of his tongue on my gaped mouth causes my knees to weaken. His kisses convey his personality perfectly—powerful, alluring, sexy, and knee-buckling hot.
He cups my thigh with one hand to steady my swaying movements, while his other hand slithers over my dress until stopping at my neck to pull my mouth closer to his. His kiss is sumptuous and toe-curling good. It once again goes above and beyond my highest expectations.
I snake my fingers over the ridges of his muscular back before raking them through his hair. He groans a rattled moan. The sound alone almost causes me to combust.
His talented tongue soothes the sting of his bite before it glides along mine, stroking and absorbing my taste.
When he pulls away from our embrace, a whim escapes my mouth. I draw in a long and shaky breath when I open my eyes. His eyes are reflecting his torment, his internal battle.
I throw my dignity out the window. “Please.”
Just the sensation of his fingertips probing the pressure points on the back of my neck and the skillfulness of his tongue and gifted mouth has me close to orgasmic bliss.
No longer capable of restraining myself, I thrust my pelvis upward. A rough moan erupts from my throat when my oversensitive pussy connects with Isaac’s thick and lengthened cock. One expert roll of his hips has me throwing my head back and my eyes snapping shut.
He bites, nibbles, and caresses my exposed neck. His slow, purposeful movements lead him toward the region of my erratically panting chest. He jerks on the material holding my dress together, rendering it open, exposing my barely covered breasts. His eyes rocket to mine. They no longer show his torment and indecisiveness—they show his unbridled desire.
A smirk tugs on his lips when his index finger glides along the thin, white lace material of my bra. His finger feels rough and smooth at the same time. My mouth becomes parched when he releases my breast from its restrictive restraints and traps my erect nipple in his warm, inviting mouth.
After lavishing my breasts with his skilled tongue, he diverts his attention to underneath my breasts and across my stomach. He bites, sucks, and nibbles on my skin, making every hair bristle with attention.
His name rumbles from my throat in a ragged groan when the tip of his nose grazes my panty-covered clit. He chuckles a pussy-clenching laugh at the wail escaping my lips from him veering away from the one part of my body screaming for his attention.
Raking my fingers through his hair that’s damp at the tips from the stifling heat in the office, I guide his head back to my weeping sex, which is begging for his attention.
“Patience, Isabelle.” Isaac’s gaze lifts to mine to wordlessly command my focus.
Unable to tear my gaze away, I watch him bite and suck on my right inner thigh. The sting of his teeth and the roughness of his five o’clock shadow brings a rush of excitement to my sex.
Usually, it takes dedicated attention to bring me to climax, but I’m so close to the brink right now, just the slight brush of his fingertip on my clit will have me free-falling.
Crouching down in front of me, Isaac guides my left leg onto his shoulder. My body is so lax, my movements are sluggish and slow. My toes curl when his nose runs along the seam of my panties. He inhales a vast, undignified whiff, not the slightest bit ashamed.
“You smell so fucking good.”
I scream as an orgasm rips through my body so hard and fast, stars form in front of my eyes when he sucks my clit into his mouth through my lace panties. Although we’re in public—and there’s a possibility we could be exposed at any moment—I can’t stop the moans erupting from my throat when Isaac slips my panties to the side to devour my drenching sex. The ability to control my body has been relinquished to the man who just caused it to implode with one heart-stopping suck.
Isaac’s name spills from my mouth on repeat as the lashes of his tongue slowly guide me down from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. He consumes my pussy with dedicated sweeps and playful bites, not the least bit confronted I combusted within seconds of our exchange commencing.
Just as I rein in the uncontrollable shudders racking through my body, Isaac clenches my panties in his hand and shreds them off my body—their feeble material no match to his strength. He devours me without pause, his eagerness adding to the giddiness hazing my mind. The throaty moans he releases vibrate on my clit, intensifying the wetness between my legs.
