Unraveling an Enigma Page 7

  Although I’m proud of how well it’s doing, my onsite presence has been severely lacking the past month. Since Isabelle worked days, and I typically work nights, my usually unyielding focus shifted from my business goals to a more personal endeavor. My desire to spend time with Isabelle often had me leaving the office before my clubs reached capacity. I have a dedicated team, so my businesses never lagged the past month, but even if they did, I valued my time with Isabelle enough, I would have taken a hit.

  I stop scrolling through reports when the heat of a gaze captures my attention. Tina is gawking at me, her lashes excessively fluttering. “Did you need something?”

  My tone comes out clipped. I’m not in the right frame of mind to deal with her inexorable attempts to get back between my sheets. Tina in the bedroom was precisely how I had anticipated. Her look and personality match her sexual prowess to perfection— she’s both feisty and wild. With her small height and petite frame, she can bend more ways than an Olympic gymnast. She was the first girl in a long time who could keep up with my intensity in the bedroom, but I pride myself on my ability to read people, and what was relayed through her eyes was enough to have me running for the hills.

  Before Isabelle, I had no intention of securing a long-term relationship. My goals were solely dedicated to my empire. I didn’t think anything would deter my goals. Isabelle did. She flipped the coin on everything and had me believing I could love again. If I were smart, I would have walked away from her the instant she crashed into me at the airport. Alas, she was more cunning than her humble eyes give her credit for.

  My thoughts return to the present when Tina crosses her legs in front of herself. Her tiny denim shorts ride up high on her thigh, exposing inches upon inches of creamy skin. As she rakes her teeth over her red-painted lip, her infatuated eyes peer down at me. “An FBI agent is requesting to see you. Travis has her holed up at the front entrance.”

  I'd be lying if I said my first thought didn’t go to Isabelle. It’s only been three days since she was beneath me, but it feels like months. My sexual drive has always been excessive, but with Isabelle, it was tenfold, reaching levels even I didn’t know existed.

  Tina's overly-manicured brow shoots up into her hairline. “Did you want me to let her in or tell her you’ve left for the day?”

  Although no other words spill from her lips, her eyes beg me to request for Isabelle to leave. I kept quiet on my relationship, but Tina is very perceptive, so she knows something is more askew with my private life than I’m letting on.

  “Boss—?”

  “Give me five minutes, then let her in.”

  Tina huffs before sauntering toward the door. Even pissed, her hips swing provocatively with every step she takes. Once she’s back into the main area of the club, I close my laptop screen then head for the inbuilt bar at the side of my office. I need to distract my hands from touching Isabelle. When she's in my vicinity, not even deceit can quell my desire to have her beneath me.

  My back molars grind together when I discover my bottle of Teeling 30-Year-Old Single Malt Irish Whiskey is empty. “Nick,” I grumble under my breath.

  My little brother Nick, whom I love dearly, would happily polish off a three-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey without seeking permission. I can’t blame him. He would have needed a stiff drink after dealing with the psychotic lady who accosted him in my nightclub earlier in the week.

  I’ve only just selected a second bottle when a female voice filters into my office. “This is more impressive than the last office I saw you in.”

  My grip on the crystal decanter I’m holding firms so tightly, the glass nearly shatters. I shift my gaze to the other side of the room, the pulse in my jaw unmissable when they land on a set of eyes I’d give anything not to see again.

  “I should have put two and two together. Corruption and the FBI generally go hand in hand.”

  Theresa’s lips furl. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t improved any.”

  When she takes a step closer to me, my gaze floats over her body. There’s no doubt her outer shell is attractive, but her rotten insides make her hideously ugly, not even the most captivating face could have you looking past them.

  If you haven’t worked this out yet, Theresa and I have met previously. Our meetings were held in my apartment or ‘fuck pad’ as Isabelle refers to it. Once I grew tired of our prearranged gatherings, I cut ties with Theresa. She didn’t take my decision too well. She’s one of many women the past five years who has staged ostentatious ruses to coerce me into interacting with them. Although her attempts were vigorous and undermining, they weren’t intricate enough to get past my astuteness.

  Isabelle is the only one who has played me for a fool.

  Theresa endeavors to conceal her excitement at my glance of her body, but the pink hue on her cheek and the unbridled desire of lust reflecting in her eyes, unearths her deceit. She's hopeful for a trip down memory lane. I'd give up everything I have before that would ever happen.

  “Humor was never my strong point, but you already know that isn’t my finest quality.” Call me conceited, but I'm aware my strongest assets are displayed in the office and between the sheets.

  “You’re still not lacking any cockiness.”

  When I take a step closer to her, her pupils dilate. “You and I both know if I wanted to fuck you on my desk, I could.”

  The pulse in her neck increases as her heavy-hooded gaze flicks to the desk I’m standing next to. When her tongue darts out to replenish her dry lips, I know I have her exactly where I want her.

  “But we also know that’ll never happen.”

  The vein in her neck is still thrumming, but now, it's more from anger than desire.

  “So, either tell me why you're wasting my time or get the fuck out of my office.”

  Not waiting for her to reply, I undo the button on my jacket, then take a seat in my leather chair. She remains quiet, but I don’t need to see her to know she's still in the room. If her overly floral perfume isn’t enough of a hint, her ragged breaths are a sure-fire indication.

  I stop pretending to read a business proposal when Theresa questions, “Are you familiar with a lady named Isabelle Brahn?”

  Slowly, my eyes lift from the document I'm now clasping so firmly it has a crinkle down the middle. Theresa is glaring at me, her face blemished with not only disdain but jealousy as well. I smirk egotistically, unwilling to play the game she’s had us playing the past four years.

  “Never heard of her before.”

  Although my outward appearance doesn’t allude to my piqued interest, on the inside, I'm immensely intrigued. Usually, official government visits center around my empire, not my personal life.

  Theresa splays her hand across her cocked hip, exposing a revolver holstered on her waist. “That’s interesting.” Her tone is as mocking as her smirk, “As Ms. Brahn seems to know you very well.”

  “Everyone in this town knows who I am,” I reply, not attempting to take a nibble out of the bait she’s throwing out.

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot about your infamous reputation. Maybe seeing a photo of Ms. Brahn might jog your memory?” She places a photo onto my desk. “I understand it could be hard for you to recall the faces of the many women you've slept with.”

  The smallest grin tugs my lips high. The photo Theresa presented is of Isabelle on the beach, wearing the microscopic black string bikini that almost had me falling to my knees when I first saw her in it. Nearly every inch of her beautiful curves is on display. My hands twitch in sync with my cock just from drinking in her seductiveness through a photo.

  After tightening my jaw, I scrutinize the picture with more detail, while striving to keep my eyes off Isabelle’s provocative frame. Anytime I’m presented with something official, I pay careful attention to every minute detail because it's usually what you’re not looking at that should receive the most attention. Like the smallest guy in the group will most likely have the hardest punch, the quietest ar
e usually the most ruthless. And obviously, the most beautiful women are the most scheming.

  Ignoring the surge of blood pumping through my body, I scan the background of the photo. It was taken during our long weekend at the McGregor residence. Not only is the jetty and wooden boat shed in the background, so is Colby. Just from that minor detail, I unearth more knowledge about the FBI’s investigation into me than what Hunter, my head of security, has informed me.

  After every detail of the photo is memorized, I return my eyes to Theresa. “There's no way I'd ever forget a woman who looks like this.” She exhales harshly as her eyes thin. Loving her annoyance, I add more salt to her wounds. “Perhaps you could do me a favor and pass my number on to Isabelle.”

  “I'm sure you can locate her number in her tenant application.”

  Theresa snatches Isabelle’s photo from my hand. Through slitted eyes, she shoves it into the black handbag hanging from her now-slumped shoulders. I devote my attention back to the document I was perusing before she interrupted me, struggling not to chuckle at her obnoxious reaction. Only once my office door being slammed shut sounds through my ears do I raise my burner phone to my ear.

  “Boss.”

  “Anything?” I ask curtly.

  I hear a ruffle like someone is shaking their head. “Not a peep.”

  I run my index finger over my brow. “Good. Keep a close eye on her.”

  After disconnecting my call, I dial another number.

  “Boss.”

  “I need you to get me everything you can on a Ms. Theresa Veneto.”

  “On it—”

  “Hunter?”

  “Yeah,” he replies over the sound of his hand scrubbing his thick beard.

  “I need it today.”

  Chapter 11

  Isabelle

  “Don’t scream, it’s me.”

  My surprised eyes snap open as my heart constricts. I don’t need to roll over to know Isaac is slipping between the sheets of my bed. His delicious scent is filtering through my nostrils, sparking my senses. When he splays his hand across my stomach to pull me back, moisture burns my eyes. His cock is hot and heavy against my back, and his suit has been removed, leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

  “Isabelle…” Isaac growls in warning when I attempt to roll onto my opposite hip. I want to express how sorry I am for everything that has happened. I want to explain why I lied to him. I’ll even shamelessly beg for forgiveness if required.

  “No talking, not yet.” His teeth sink into my shoulder blade before his tongue lashes the puncture mark. “I need to taste you first, to have you underneath me. It’s been too long. I can’t wait any longer.”

  Every nerve in my body tingles with anticipation. It’s only been four days since we last tangoed, but it feels more like a lifetime. It’s hard to explain, but this is us—we show our affection through sexual contact. Our love, our desires, our needs, they're reflected in the most intimate ways. So, with that in mind, I’ll forgo pleading for clemency and express my regret in a sexual nature.

  Goosebumps pebble my skin when Isaac’s hand skims under my black silk camisole to cup my engorged breast. His talented fingers soon have my nipples erect and paying careful attention to every tweak he does. Excitement blasts through me, making me sticky and hot. I love how talented he is. He always ensures I'm thoroughly satisfied before he'll ever consider the possibility of getting himself off.

  When he rolls over to pin me to the mattress, my breathing stills. His cock is thick against my damp panties, and the sheer closeness of his handsome face has my heart gaining an extra beat. Even in the moonlight, his entrancing features can't be concealed. With his razor-sharp jaw, plump, full lips, and striking eyes, he's a true masterpiece crafted to perfection.

  He assesses my face as robustly as I just appraised his. Although his gaze is lidded, I can see his hurt reflecting back. My deceit hurt him. His eyes are circled with dark rims, and the scruff on his chin is the thickest I've seen it.

  “Isaac—”

  Before my apology can spill from my lips, his perfectly structured mouth seals over mine. He nips on my bottom lip before his tongue soothes the sting his teeth made, then he wrangles it with mine. It’s a soul-stealing kiss that is warm, inviting, and demanding. It represents the man I’m in love with to a T.

  “These are my lips, Isabelle, only mine,” he mutters in his sexy, raspy voice.

  “Always.” My heart bursts with love from the dominance in his tone. “They’ll never be anyone else’s.”

  I adjust the tilt of my hips so I can rub against the girth teasing my clit. I barely get in two grinds when he inches back, removing his erection from my buzzing clit. “Not yet.”

  He drags his lips down my chin and along my neck. The prickles of his unshaven chin add even more excitement to our heartfelt reunion. My legs scissor when he places a hot trail of kisses down my body. Little bites, soothing licks, and the roughness of his five o’clock shadow have me teetering toward the brink of ecstasy in no time. His stamina has always impressed me, but tonight it’s at a whole new level. He can control himself for hours if needed, ensuring he always gives a stellar performance in the bedroom.

  Even after a month, his dedication never wavered. I was always satisfied to the point of exhaustion before he attempted to chase his own climax. Even during the dreaded red week of my cycle, he took care of me. I felt like a teenager when he brought me to climax without removing my panties, but it was incredible. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He's an incredibly gifted man, both in and out of the bedroom.

  Isaac’s teasing kisses stop at the waist of my black silk panties. He lifts his lust-ridden gaze to my face, appraising my body on the way by. As he smirks a deliciously wicked smile, he shreds my panties off my body. I gasp at his domineering gesture, loving the switch of dynamics between us. I'm an independent, strong woman, but I’m more than happy to relinquish my power to Isaac. He’d never use it against me. If anything, he uses it to make me stronger. I’ve never felt stronger than when I’m beneath him.

  The scent of my arousal filters in the air when Isaac stares at my bare mound, memorizing every detail as if it’s the first time he's seen me naked. My knees curve inward when he snaps his eyes shut to inhale a large whiff of air through his nostrils. “You smell so fucking good.”

  When his eyes pop back open, they’re even more captivating than usual. They show his hunger. His every need. His desire. And they’re all pointing at me. My teeth gnaw my bottom lip when he rests his backside on the balls of his feet so he can take in the entire picture.

  His needy voice rumbles through my body, clustering in my aching pussy when he says, “Place your feet flat on the bed, then bend your knees. Spread open wide for me, Isabelle, I want to see all of you.”

  Even though my cheeks heat from his bold request, it isn’t from embarrassment, it’s from desire. There isn’t an inch of me he hasn’t inspected the past month, and the fact he still craves me as rampantly as I do him spurs on my need to please him. So, after shifting my legs up high on the bed, I do as requested without a peep trickling from my lips.

  He runs his index finger down the folds of my wet pussy before slapping my clit with the back of his hand. “So pretty and pink.” He presses his thumb on the throbbing node before returning his eyes to mine. “Your eyes are never to leave mine, Isabelle. Do you understand?”

  Unable to speak through my dry, parched mouth, I nod. I love watching him worship me, so I’d never do anything to taint that.

  His dark, intense eyes remain arrested on mine as his head narrows toward my pussy. My body is thrumming with so much excitement, I’m afraid I may soon convulse. One touch, one lick, and I’ll be freefalling, toppling into orgasmic bliss.

  Just as his tongue spears through the folds of my pussy, my back lurches off the bed. It isn’t in euphoria. It’s from Isaac disappearing before my very eyes. My bewilderment intensifies when my hand shoots to between my legs. I’m still wea
ring my black satin panties, and although my camisole top is drenched with sweat, it’s still very much in place.

  Oh my God, was it all a dream? It couldn’t have been; it felt so real.

  I flop back onto my pillow with a groan, striving to get the excitement scorching my veins under control. My skin is coated with sweat, and my breaths are ragged. I swear on my uncle’s grave, Isaac was just here. With my inner vixen screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, I drag my spare pillow over my face to muffle her cries. Even she thought it was real. It probably doesn't help that I can smell Isaac’s alluring scent in the air. It’s infused there, refusing to leave even after bucket loads of tears begged it to go away.

  After rubbing my weary eyes, I turn them to the alarm clock that usually sits on my bedside table. It takes a few moments for me to recall why the clock isn’t in its usual position. Isaac yanked it out of the wall when we made love. It shattered into pieces when he flung it against my bedroom door.

  “I don’t care if I have to fuck you for twelve hours straight, you're not leaving this bed until I hear those words come out of your mouth in person,” he said that morning.

  God, I miss him. His smell, his touch, but more than anything, his allure.

  With any chance of going back to sleep lost, I yank back my pale blue bedspread, then flop my legs over the bed. From my new position, I can see the screen of my cell phone, which is sitting in its charging pod.

  “Five o’clock,” I mutter in disgrace. “I haven’t been awake this early in years.”

  After stretching to loosen up my strumming muscles, I scamper out of bed and pad into my walk-in closet to change my camisole and panties to ones less drenched. In my half-asleep state, I trip over a pair of running shoes left discarded on my closet floor. I haven’t been jogging in weeks. It wasn’t just Alex’s demanding work schedule that had my exercise regime lagging, it was Isaac’s sexual workouts. There were days I turned up to work feeling like I'd run a marathon. That’s how impressive Isaac’s sexual prowess is.