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After the double penetration sex and a quick nap on her part, each of these remarkable men had taken a turn making love to her while the other watched. It had been a sensuous and breathtaking finish to the evening.
Isabelle had fallen asleep with the idea that when she woke, this delightful interlude would likely be over. She’d expected to face the awkward morning after with one or both of them trying not to kick her out on her ear, and trying to be polite about it.
She almost wanted to ask why he was being so nice if he was about to discard her, but remained silent, not wanting to rock the boat in this arena. Was there hope for a second date?
“Or maybe this is how you fixed your coffee after dinner last night, and I have a memory like a steel trap.” He tapped his temple twice.
She grinned. “Right. Last night.” She took a quick sip, closing her eyes, hating that she’d reminded him of the night before.
Another long, luscious sip, and she opened her eyes. He stared at her intensely, appearing a bit serious, like he was about to ask her something. Maybe he was about to ask her to leave.
Then his phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. Funny though, he looked as grateful for the reprieve as she felt.
Turning away, Warrick spoke in low tones. As he chatted, Isabelle slipped out of bed and padded naked to the bathroom, snatching up her articles of clothing draped on a side chair the night before. If he looked, she didn’t see him.
When she came back a few minutes later, he scanned a quick look up and down her body, seeming almost disappointed that she’d put her clothes back on.
“Do you work tonight?” he asked, eyeing her up and down again, only slower this time, stopping to gaze at her breasts, her thighs.
“Yes.” Another sip of coffee. “Why?”
He shrugged then changed the subject. “Let’s get you something to eat. I’ll drop you at home before I go to work.”
“I don’t need breakfast. Thanks anyway. I’m ready to go.”
Warrick drove her home without saying too much. At least nothing volatile. She responded to his simple questions about this and that, but also didn’t say much to generate a deep philosophical conversation.
When he pulled in front of her home, she opened the door, trying to escape as quickly as possible. Warrick grabbed her forearm, pulled her close, twisting her to face him, and kissed her like he wanted to fuck her against the steering wheel.
After the lip-licking carnal kiss, he then murmured, “See you soon, Isabelle,” before releasing her.
“Can’t wait,” she said quietly, exiting his car on wobbly legs.
She spent her day reminiscing about the night before and dreading her coming future with equal fervor. What if they never called again? What if this amazing experience was already over? Given Warrick’s exuberant kiss and intense See you soon, Isabelle, comment before exiting his vehicle, she decided to look on the bright side for now.
Isabelle came into work later that night with memories of the best sex she’d ever thought to have the night before buzzing through her mind. If Gray hovered around anywhere in the building, he’d probably smell the satisfaction on her before he even saw her.
Although, given the hearty little spring in her step and the grin shaping her mouth—which refused to fade no matter what—she figured anyone with eyes would know she’d gotten laid.
She entered by way of the back exit, stopping at her office briefly to put her things away first before checking in with the concierge for any messages.
Isabelle soon headed down the short hall leading to the front desk. Right before she rounded the final corner and made it into view, she overheard two employees talking in low tones.
“…can’t believe…Isabelle…”
Had she heard her name whispered under her coworker’s breath? Her first thought was a panicked one, wondering if her stalker from the courthouse was back. She prepared herself to ask if the delivery man had a chronic cough, but then she heard something else.
Isabelle slowed her steps, stayed out of view, and listened as another voice whispered, “It came a couple of hours ago. I feel so sorry for her.”
Then the first low voice added, “…Isabelle deserves better.”
They were definitely talking about her. What had been delivered? A severed head? A voodoo doll dressed to look like her with a stake driven through its chest?
“…haven’t seen the kiss-off bouquet for quite a while,” the other low voice said.
The kiss-off bouquet? What on earth?
Curiosity got her feet moving and drove her the rest of the way around the corner. She put a smile on her face to greet the two people already chatting her up.
