I gulp even louder than I did when I saw the plane. Clenching my hands at my side, I climb the stairs into the private jet. My knees clang together with every step I take, but it isn’t from fear; it's to calm the rampant tingling sensation coursing through my body.
I plop into the first plush white leather two seater sofa I stumble upon in the galley. Ignoring the elegantly decorated surroundings, I search in vain for my seatbelt. My panic surges when my hands come up empty.Oh my god, where is the belt?
Isaac stoops down in front of me and lurches his hands into the back of the leather chair. My pulse quickens when his hands brush past portions of the bare skin on my thighs. He produces the belt and fastens it around my waist. Flashbacks of him doing the same thing months ago rush into my brain, along with the forbidden scenes of our hot and explicit kiss in his car weeks ago. My cheeks flame as undeniable lust overwhelms me.
Raising my lust-filled eyes, I’m confronted with Isaac’s pussy-clenching gaze. His mouth curves into a sensuous smirk, and he winks before turning his attention to Cormack. They utter something to each other before Isaac takes the seat next to me. I raggedly pant when the plane jerks forward.
“If you need me to carry you into the bedroom, just let me know.”
My eyes snap to Isaac’s. “There’s a bedroom?”
Smiling, he gestures his head to a polished door located at the back of the plane.
“I’ll give you a private inspection later.” He winks seductively.
Gulping, I swallow the lump sitting in my throat.
When Isaac places his palm on my thigh, I nearly vault out of my chair. Smiling at my skittish response, his index finger traces a figure eight design on my bare skin. His meekest touch keeps my mind absent of any thoughts not associated with him.
Although my body is screaming for him to shift his finger a few inches higher, never once does his touch switch to being disrespectful.
He doesn’t need to move his fingers, though. My imagination is wondrous. Images of his fingers running along my naked body, gripping, probing and exploring me makes my daydream vividly graphic. It also proves without a doubt sexual endorphins can overrule fear-inducing chemicals.
“You’re getting better with flying. You didn’t require nearly as much stimulation this time around,” Isaac says once the plane is no longer ascending.
Biting my bottom lip, I try to hide my smile. Forever diligent, Isaac notices the curve of my lips. His captivating eyes don’t falter from mine as he releases my bottom lip from my menacing teeth.
Tilting his head, he leans in intimately close to my neck. “Everything you just imagined, I’m going to do to your body tonight.”
My core tightens when he licks the shell of my earlobe.
Holy crap!
I need to reel back in my shrewdness. I can’t sleep with Isaac Holt. It’s not just my reputation I’m putting on the line by conversing with him. It is also the impeccable reputation of my uncle, an impressive reputation that took him years to earn. My name is associated with his, and I can’t shroud it in controversy.
“I have a boyfriend,” I lie.
Isaac’s eyes missile to mine. His lips are thin, his gaze furious and unyielding. He scrapes his hand across his unshaven jaw as his eyes scan my face, studying me in silence.
“I can tell by your eyes you’re hiding something, Isabelle,” he snaps, his tone stern and clipped. “But it isn’t a boyfriend.”
I should have known he would see through my deceit. Isaac has eyes that can see straight through to my soul.
That in itself is a terrifying notion.
18
Isabelle
Lurching, I sit up, causing a rush of giddiness to cluster in my stomach. My disoriented eyes dart around the lavishly decorated room I’ve awoken in.I really need to stop waking up in strange bedrooms.
When my eyes shoot down, I sigh when I discover I'm wearing not only a short-sleeve shirt but also my bra and panties. My panicked gaze rockets to the side of the room when I hear a toilet flushing.
My heart stops beating as I freeze in fear. The hinges on the white panel door creak while opening. Groaning, I slump back onto the soft down pillow when Harlow prances into the room.
“Sleeping beauty finally wakes,” she says, her voice dramatic.
I grunt and throw my arm over my eyes to shelter them from the bright sunlight streaming through the thick, pleated curtains.
