Enigma, #1, page 22
Struggling to keep down the contents of my stomach, I clench my teeth together. “Was that your fuck pad?”
Isaac’s eyes snap to mine. Although his livid glare could cut through ice, I don’t back down from my angry stance.
“Was that your fuck pad?” I ask again, my tone sterner this time around.
He works his jaw side to side. “I don’t call it that, but I guess most people would see it that way.”
“How many other women have you slept with in that bed?” I ask before I can stop my words. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I already feel sick enough.”
My reply isn’t a lie. My stomach is rolling, threatening to spill at any moment. I also have an overwhelming desire to take a shower. I’ve never felt as dirty as I do right now.
“Take me home,” I request, fighting my hardest to ignore the moisture welling in my eyes.
“I’m taking you home.”
“No, take me back to my apartment.”
Isaac’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much, his knuckles go pasty white. His jaw muscle quivers as he inhales a large breath through his nostrils.
“No, Isabelle. You’re mine. Which means my home, my bed, my rules.” His tone is as dangerous as my heart rate.
I glower at him, too stunned to form a response. I fought Alex tooth and nail not to become a commodity, but Isaac is making me precisely that. I’m not a possession. Nobody owns me.
“Don’t look at me like that, Isabelle.” Isaac’s tone lowers in warning.
Rolling my eyes, I turn my infuriated gaze to the star-filled night, thankfully blocking him from seeing the tears splashing my cheeks. Anger is burning through my body, but it isn’t potent enough to dry my tears—unfortunately.
Not even a heartbeat later, my hands shoot out to brace the dashboard when Isaac slams his foot onto the brake and yanks his car to the side of the road. After unclasping my seat belt, he drags me across the center console to sit side-straddled on his lap. His nostrils flare with every breath he takes as his remorseful eyes dance between my tear-filled ones.
The pain scorching my veins fades when he cups my face with his hands, so his thumbs can rub away my tears. Not a word spills from his lips, but his eyes beg for forgiveness. His beautiful gray irises are my biggest weakness. They’re the gateway to his soul and the key to unlocking the real Isaac Holt. Although Isaac has a reputation for being cold-hearted and ruthless, his eyes relay an entirely different story. They’re my greatest ally in unearthing the man behind the enigma.
Once my tears have settled, Isaac presses his lips to mine. Even upset, my body melts into his embrace, incapable of denying his affection. His kiss is scrumptious and sweet, and it clears the turmoil swirling in my stomach.
Our heated exchange doesn’t lessen until the windows of his sports car are covered with fog, and the air in the cabin is stifling.
While rubbing my plump lips with his thumb, Isaac’s eyes filter over my face. “I shouldn’t have taken you there, but I needed to be sure you were mine before I fully let you in.”
Tears form in my eyes so fast they sting, but this time, they’re from happiness, not hurt. Isaac is a highly private man, so for him to accept me into his life has my heart enlarging so much it’s close to exploding.
Shocked by my uncommon response, Isaac eyes me curiously. I’m certain I look ridiculous with tears flooding my cheeks while a huge grin spreads across my face, but my response can’t be helped. I’m too happy to hold back my excitement.
Slapping my hands on each side of his cheeks, I place a dramatically sloppy kiss on his stern mouth. I feel him smirk against my lips before he takes our kiss from playful to teasing.
Isaac’s talented mouth soon has me wishing we weren’t in the tight confines of his car. I meet the lashing of his tongue stroke for stroke as my hands slither over the contours of his chest and abdomen.
I’m seconds away from tackling the impressive bump extending in the crotch of his trousers when a brief tap hits his driver’s side window.
“Move along,” A male police officer in a fluorescent yellow vest waves us along.
When Isaac lowers the window of his car, the officer’s stern glare lessens. “Oh, good evening, Mr. Holt. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was your vehicle,” the handsome African American officer apologizes.
“That’s okay, Jimmy, it’s new. I’ve only taken her out a handful of times.” Isaac’s eyes scan my face.
I return his stare, confused by the gleam in his eyes. Is he talking about the car or me? When his cock twitches under my backside, my eyes open wide. He’s talking about me.
“How are Marisha and the kids?”
I’m shocked Isaac can engage in conversation without alluding to his sexual arousal, which is struggling to be contained in his trousers.
The officer smiles. “They’re good. Bobbi just made the varsity team.”
When his eyes drift to a car approaching on the other side of the road, I swivel my hips, vying to alter Isaac’s flawless composure.
Although his cock stiffens to a mouthwatering thickness, Isaac’s conversation doesn’t falter in the slightest. His tone remains neutral, not responding to the raging boner sending my thoughts into a tizzy.
After Isaac bids the police officer farewell, I flop into the passenger seat. Once my seat belt is latched, Isaac pulls his car back onto the road, waving to the police officer on the way by.
A shiver of excitement, and if I’m being totally honest, a slight tremor of fear runs through my body when Isaac mutters, “You’ll pay for that tease later.”
Chapter 33
Holy moly! My breathing stills when my eyes absorb the impressive private residence in front of me. Isaac opens his window and leans over to enter a security code into the black box at the edge of the driveway. The black wrought iron gate in front of us creaks as it opens, exposing a curved path that weaves up to a beautiful brick house sitting at the top of a hill. The manicured gardens are well maintained but have a classic bachelor design with manly-trimmed hedges and a collection of potted plants.
Isaac drives up the pebbled driveway, stopping in front of his remarkable mansion. Stepping out of the car, the first thing my eyes zoom in on is the beautiful arched window on the third floor. Each window in the mansion is either a circular or curved design, but the only window on the third floor is a perfect half-circle.
Noticing my gaze, Isaac says, “That’s my bedroom.”
The purr of his voice roars through to my sexual core, igniting my senses.
“At night, you can see the whole of Ravenshoe from my bed.”
“It’s beautiful, a fitting castle for a prince.”
He chuckles at my comment. “There’s nothing princely about me.” His brow arches into his dark, luxurious hair.
I shrug. He may not be a prince charming, but not every girl wants a prince. Some want a brainy geek, some want a rock star, and others want an alpha male who makes them scream his name at the top of their lungs while the most earth-shattering climax rips through their body so hard they see nothing but fireworks exploding before their eyes.
Feeling my composure waving, I question, “How long have you lived here?”
I occasionally need to rein in my desires and participate in other activities with Isaac that don’t involve sex. He places my hand within his and walks us toward the curved glass French doors at the front of the mansion.
“I’ve owned this house for nearly three years.” He stops his long strides when he reaches the front door and pivots around to face me. “This is my private residence.”
My heart warms, loving that he’s inviting me into his private sanctuary.
“I don’t think you fully understand what I’m saying. This is my private residence. I don’t let anyone come here. Hugo has only been here a handful of times.”
Oh.
“Anything you hear or see behind these doors has to stay behind these doors.” He motions his head to the front door. “I share enough of my private life with the public. I’m not willing to give them any more of myself than I already do.”
“I understand.” A broad smile spreads across my face making my cheeks ache.
He shifts his head to the side, and his brow bows high into his hairline as if to ask why I’m grinning like the cat who ate the canary.
“You like me.” I overemphasize the word ‘like.’
He shakes his head at my bold comment, but the smallest curve of his lips reveals his true reply. My heart skips a beat when he walks us through the front door, not attempting to refute my claim. Yes!
The inside of Isaac’s house is just as spectacular as the outside with beautiful antique furniture, rich and luxurious material draped over arched French doors, and even priceless paintings and sculptures adorning the walls of each room. My impromptu private tour of his private oasis ends in his impressively large black and cherry oak kitchen. Releasing my hand, he strides toward the refrigerator.
“What do you feel like eating for supper?”
Snubbing my grumbling stomach, I reply, “You.”
Isaac’s head pops out of the fridge. Tremors shake through me when his sultry eyes absorb my body. “You’ll be dessert, but first, I need to feed you so you can keep up with my stamina.”
I chew my bottom lip, lessening the intense fire building in my womb. Isaac winks before returning his attention to the refrigerator.
“Being Saturday, our options are limited, so it’s either Catherine’s lasagna or chicken parmigiana.”
My lips purse as I struggle to work out which meal sounds more enticing. My brain is in such a lust-filled fog, I can’t decide which I’d rather eat.
Sensing my reluctance, Isaac decides on my behalf. “Lasagna it is.”
My eyes track him as he places two containers of lasagna inside a convection oven. After hitting the reheat button, he walks to an overhead cupboard located above a wine fridge and pulls down two china plates. He places them on the island countertop on my left before proceeding toward a stack of drawers next to the double sink to remove two sets of cutlery. Even watching him do something as simple as setting the table is an exhilarating experience.
Once he has the countertop set for an intimate dinner for two, he motions for me to join him. A girlie squeal spills from my lips when he lifts me to sit on a high-backed barstool. Flashbacks of him doing the same thing six months ago in the business class lounge come rushing to the forefront of my mind.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, my tone apprehensive.
Isaac freezes for the quickest second before replying, “Can we have dinner before the interrogation begins?”
I remain quiet while watching him remove his jacket and sling it on the beautiful wooden bench. Once he has his cufflinks undone, his eyes lift to mine. Our gazes lock and hold for several electrifying minutes. There’s no doubting the sexual connection between us, but there’s also something much greater drawing us to each other.
I grin when he asks, “What do you want to know?”
“What did you think when I tumbled at your feet at the airport?”
Relief washes over his face before he smirks. “You continue to surprise me every day, Isabelle.”
“Why, what type of question were you expecting?”
He smirks again before moving to the convection oven that’s signaling our meals are ready. “To be honest, I thought your fall was a ruse to gain my attention. I’ve become accustomed to the tactics women use to secure my devotion these past few years.”
He removes the lasagna from the oven before placing a generous serving on my plate. “But the instant your big, beautiful eyes looked up at me, I knew it wasn’t a ploy. You were truly embarrassed and seemingly unaware of who I was.”
“I didn’t have a clue who you were until after I arrived at Ravenshoe…” I stop talking, wondering if I’ve revealed too much.
Slowly raising my gaze from the plate of lasagna, I catch Isaac staring at me cautiously. Seconds feel like minutes as we undertake an intense, chemistry-riddled stare-down. A smile curves on my lips when he breaks the connection first by nodding and striding toward the fridge.
“I guess I allowed my stellar reputation in Ravenshoe to get the better of me.” He pulls a bottle of red wine from the wine fridge. “I’m certain everyone in Ravenshoe knows who I am, but you’ve humbly reminded me there’s a whole world outside of Ravenshoe that doesn’t have a clue about some arrogant businessman named Isaac Holt.”
Hoping to ease the tension in the air, I reply, “Their loss.”
His chuckle has my mind wandering away from the food in front of me.
Forever diligent, Isaac says, “Eat, Isabelle. You’ll need your energy.”
He wasn’t joking. Once we finished our dinner and two glasses of wine, Isaac had his dessert on the very countertop we were eating on. Then in the shower. Then in his monstrous four-poster bed.
By the time we’re preparing to go to sleep, the sun is already rising over the horizon. Isaac emerges from the bathroom. He has disposed of his used condom and has a washcloth in his hands. Even sexually sated and deliriously tired, the pulse in my neck thrums when he places the washcloth between my legs and cleans me. Once all the residue of my climax is removed, he slips back in between the sheets and pulls me in close to his body.
An appreciative moan tears from my throat when the soft curves of my body mold into the hard firmness of Isaac. “Stop moaning, or neither of us will get any sleep.” He sounds as exhausted as I feel.
“Is that even possible?” My words are muffled by a yawn.
My heavy-lidded eyes flutter open when his stiffening cock digs into my backside. “Does that answer your question?”
Biting my bottom lip, I roll over to face him. My glowing eyes bounce between his as he saves my bottom lip from my menacing teeth.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says before sealing his mouth over mine.
Chapter 34
“I didn’t know there was a muscle there,” I grumble to myself.
Every muscle in my body is throbbing. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a good pain, one I’d happily choose to feel every day, but I’m suffering soreness in areas I didn’t know housed muscles.
After working my neck side to side to relieve the kink formed there from sleeping on Isaac’s drool-worthy pectoral muscle the past several hours, I climb out of bed. Unsurprisingly, I’m once again waking up in an empty bedroom. I feel like a zombie, so I have no clue how Isaac can live off such little sleep.
This room is much more adeptly decorated than the room in Isaac’s fuck pad. The color theme is a luxurious burgundy and charming dark steel gray. His bedside tables have pictures and knick-knacks on them, and the ceiling isn’t mirrored. I guess the mirrored ceiling in his apartment should have been my first clue that it wasn’t his primary residence.
“Wow.”
The view from his bedroom window is remarkable. My attention was so focused on Isaac last night, I didn’t pay any attention to the spectacular view out his window. You can see nearly the entire downtown area of Ravenshoe from this vantage point. A smile curls my lips high as I slide my arms into the sleeves of Isaac’s blue business shirt he was wearing last night. Once I have the top three buttons done up, I pull my unruly hair from the collar and exit his room.
It takes wandering around his imposing mansion for nearly twenty minutes before I locate him sitting behind a mahogany desk in a vast office.
He’s seated in a black leather chair, swiveled around to face an arched window behind his desk. He’s talking to someone on his phone. From his tone and demeanor, I’d say it’s a business associate or a staff member.
I prop my shoulder on the doorjamb, intending watch him in silence. Forever vigilant, Isaac senses my presence. My breath hitches when he pivots the chair around to face me. He’s wearing a pair of dark washed jeans and a fitted white shirt. To add even more allure to his sexiness, he’s also barefoot.
As my eyes absorb the sexually satisfying visual of a casual and laid-back Isaac, his eyes study my body with just as much eagerness. He smirks a panty-clenching smile when he notices I’m wearing nothing but his blue shirt from last night.
“Yes, I’m here,” he snaps down the phone when his perusal of my body interrupts the flow of his conversation.
My pulse quickens when he gestures for me to join him. Fiddling with my shirt, I pad into his office. When I accept the hand he extends, he pulls me down until I’m sitting on his lap. A strong surge of yearning ripples through me when his erect cock digs into my backside. I’m surprised when he continues with his call, his authoritative tone not once faltering, not even when his hand slips under my shirt to tweak my nipples into stiff peaks.
“Henry, enough stalling. I don’t care what it costs, just get it done.”
He disconnects his call, not giving Henry the chance of a reply.
“Was that the Henry I met when we went away for the long weekend?”
“Yes,” he answers as his gaze becomes more hooded.
A moan seeps from my lips when he massages my aching shoulders. “Are you sore?”
“Uh-huh.” I moan, loving his fingers kneading the painful kinks in my neck and shoulders.
A groan rips from my throat when he withdraws his talented fingers from my neck. He stands from the chair, scooping me into his arms at the same time. His long strides down the hallway are quick and efficient. A grin curves on my lips when he places my naked backside down onto an expansive marble vanity in the main bathroom.
My grin turns into a full-toothed smile when he draws a bath. After squirting delicious smelling bath products into the fast-running water, Isaac turns to face me. Although his gaze is hungry and lust-ridden, there’s also a sparkle of something else shining in his eyes.
My breathing slows when he pulls his shirt over his head in one fluid movement. Then my pulse quickens when he undoes the button on his jeans. Once his jeans and boxers are removed, he undoes the top button of my shirt. My mouth is ajar as my eyes drink in his magnificent body.
