He places his open hand over my clenched fist and runs his thumb across my knuckles. Staring into his entrancing eyes helps to ease my panic, and the crippling pain in my chest lessens when I inhale a sharp, quick breath.
“Good girl.”
He brushes away the tears marking my white cheeks. His touch is soft and gentle, almost loving. My heart rate kicks up a gear when his index finger lingers at the cupid’s bow on my top lip, allowing me to taste the saltiness of my tears. His briefest touch sparks a tingling sensation to sweep across my face.
By the time the plane has fully ascended, I have tears streaming down my face. It isn’t just my fear that has me sobbing. It is looking into the eyes of the man I’m falling in love with and knowing I can’t have both him and my illustrious career.
Time slows to a snail’s pace when Isaac returns my gaze with the same amount of intensity. He stares into my eyes, allowing me to see the remorse settling in his beautifully unique eyes.
“What are you doing?” I blubber out when Isaac unlatches my seatbelt without warning.
He doesn’t grace me with a reply; he just scoops me into his arms and cradles me into his well-defined chest. His masculine scent soothes the burn of my exhausted lungs as he walks toward the back of the plane. When we enter the luxurious bedroom, he shifts me so I'm held by one hand before utilizing the other to lock the bedroom door.
Once the latch is secure, Isaac places me on the bed. Without a peep escaping his lips, he stoops down in front of me and unclasps the straps on my shoes. He dumps them by the bedside before removing his polished dress shoes.
I remain quiet, watching him with eagerness when he undoes his cufflinks and removes his suit jacket. My mouth dries when his lust-filled gaze lowers to mine. His gaze is as teasing as his impromptu strip.
A jolt of electricity bolts up my arm when Isaac clutches my hand and yanks me up from the bed. My breasts press against his chest, budding my nipples hard enough to cut diamonds.
“Do you want this?” Isaac questions, gazing into my eyes.
Returning his invigorating stare with the same amount of intensity, I nod.
Isaac’s lips crimp, apparently unimpressed by my non-verbal reply. “No, Isabelle. Say it.”
My thighs quake as I reply, “I want this.”
The most mouth-watering smirk sneaks onto Isaac's face before he steps away from me. Upon hearing my shameless groan from the loss of his contact, his grin enlarges, making my thighs shudder more.
His eyes rake my body before they return to my face. "Strip."
My cheeks enflame from his brazen command, but the unbridled desire in his eyes has me feeling more daring than usual, so I strip as instructed.
Isaac stares at me in complete admiration, like I am his salvation. I return his stare as I undo each button on my shirt. The heavy pants of my breaths push my breasts up and down, and an intoxicating scent lingers in the air.
Isaac’s lust-ridden gaze remains focused on my face until the last button on my blouse is undone. My shirt plunges to the ground in one swift motion when I shimmy my shoulders.
He draws in a sharp breath when his eyes land on the steel gray Dream Angel Victoria Secret padded lace bra I’d purchased. When I saw its dark gray coloring matched his eyes, I had to buy it.
Isaac locks his eyes with mine. His gaze is primal and hungry, and it has me embarrassingly squirming on the spot.
When my arms slither around my back to unlatch the clasp of my bra, Isaac shakes his head. “Leave the bra.”
The devilishly wicked grin on his face makes me wet. Chewing on my bottom lip, I undo the top button of my jeans and unzip the fly. As I shimmy my jeans down my legs, Isaac loosens the knot on his tie, his unrelenting gaze never detouring from mine.
His panty-wetting smile grows when he notices I’m wearing matching steel gray lace panties.
“Please don’t shred these. They cost way more than you think.” I nearly maxed out my credit card when Harlow and I went on an impromptu lingerie store visit last week.
Isaac doesn't grace me with a reply. He merely smirks before skimming his eyes over my body.
While twisting his removed tie around his right hand, he pads closer to me. “Are you a screamer, Isabelle?” he probes, unashamed.
“No.” I briefly shake my head.
But that may be more based on the fact no guy has made my body ignite the way Isaac can.
“Well, you’re about to become one.”
