Dangling Isaac in front of me is like taking a kid to a candy store and telling her she must buy a piece of fruit. Even though you know the candy will give you cavities and make your hips wider, you still want the candy. Isaac isn’t good for me. I should stay away from him, but when he is dangled in front of me, my inhibitions evaporate.
“How do you know Cormack?” Isaac questions.
He runs his index finger along my forearm, causing the hairs on my body to bristle.
“Who?” My one word is wheezy from his close proximity.
“Cormack.” He points to the blond gentleman seated across from us.
“I don’t know him. He just offered for us to be seated with him when we couldn’t get a table.”
Scooting across the bench, I try to increase the space between our bodies since we're sitting intimately close to each other. My body’s awareness of Isaac’s proximity is wreaking havoc with my shrewdness.
His lips crimp at my action before shifting closer to me, leaving less room between us than there was previously. Rolling my shoulders, I firm my stance. I try to keep my focus planted on Cormack and Harlow gabbing across from us, but my eyes incessantly sneak glances at Isaac, whose eyes remain planted on me.
“How do you know Cormack?” I ask, endeavoring to keep our conversation in friendly territory.
“We met in college. He was my roommate slash manager.”
“Manager?” My curiosity is piqued as to why someone like Isaac would require a manager.
He smirks vainly. “Not that type of manager. No one is the boss of me, baby.”
I try not to sway toward him, but this is the first time he has referred to me by a nickname. Call me crazy. Call me a freak, but I liked hearing it.
“I fought my way through college. Literally.”
“You didn’t fight, you just showed up,” Cormack interrupts, his tone cheeky.
“Don’t believe anything this guy tells you,” Cormack banters, gesturing his head to Isaac. “He acts all innocent, then bam, you’ll be on your ass before you know it.”
“Who are you to talk? You’re the one who created the ruse,” Isaac jests, his lips tugged into a broad grin.
“It worked, though, didn’t it?” Cormack arches his brow into his blond hairline.
Isaac doesn’t respond; he merely laughs, a thick, vociferous chuckle that makes my pussy pulsate with desire.
"Come on, out with it," Harlow requests a short time later, her eyes bouncing between Cormack and Isaac. "This is more suspenseful than the Game of Thrones cliff-hanger. You can't share tidbits of information, then leave us hanging. We need details. Very informative details."
“Alright.” Cormack leans over the table to build the suspense. “Imagine Isaac all decked out in corduroy trousers, a pair of leather-strapped sandals, a button-up short-sleeve shirt two sizes too small, and a pair of suspenders.”
“I did not wear fucking suspenders,” Isaac interrupts. Although his voice sounds stern, his eyes glimmer with mischief.
“It was a few years ago; maybe my memory isn’t as good as it was, but I swear at least once I got you into a pair of suspenders.”
Both Harlow’s and my chuckles break the silence surrounding us.
My gleeful eyes turn to Isaac. Even decked out in the most hideous, unsightly clothes you could find, he would still be the most strikingly handsome man I've ever seen. It is, after all, what is under the clothing that is the most appealing.
When he notices my eyes wandering over his body, Isaac runs his index finger down my arm.
“Anyway, we have him all decked out like a choirboy about to go to church on Sunday. Isaac arrives on the scene of an underground fight ring, acting all innocent like it’s the first time he’s been to an event like that. Only once an impressive purse was negotiated for a fight did Isaac reveal his true self. By then, it was too late for his opponent to back out. An easy five G’s for ten minutes of work,” Cormack informs.
Cormack leans back into the booth and takes a sizeable gulp of the brown liquid from the crystal decanter in his hand.
“Wow.”
Now part of Isaac's FBI file makes sense, like where he got the money he invested in stocks while he was still in college. His file leads us to believe it was from him illegally distributing and manufacturing drugs. And although underground fighting is illegal, it doesn't hold the same repercussions as drug manufacturing and dealing does.
