My breath hitches in my throat when his eyes travel over the long-sleeve Jersey dress I’m wearing. I chose this dress to ensure Brandon knew our date was more a casual get together between friends and not a romantic date. From the snarl forming on Isaac’s lips, I’d say my clothing choice was a mistake on my part.
“Who was the man in your apartment?” Isaac’s tone is rough and laced with anger.
“How do you know it was a man?” My anger rises as the images of Isaac with a bevy of blonde’s rushes back to the forefront of my mind.
“Lipstick, no lipstick.” He hooks his thumb to the two wine glasses.
My glass has an outline of the light pink lipstick I'm wearing; Brandon's has no lipstick smears.
“He is afriend.” I overemphasize my last word.
Isaac growls a low, menacing groan that surges through my sex. My knees clang as a hot slickness forms between my legs.Stupid, traitorous body.
Isaac’s furious gaze stays planted on me as he removes his ringing cell phone from his pocket. His greeting is short and clipped. I don’t know who he is talking to, but the tick in his jaw grows the longer their conversation continues. My heart stops beating when he disconnects the call and places his phone back into his pocket. His gaze is unrelenting, furious and solely focused on me.
When he steps toward me, I back away, intimidated by his unnerving composure. He smirks at my reaction before continuing on his original endeavor. Before I can protest, Isaac has me trapped between his impressive body and the wall in my entranceway.
He grips my chin, yanking it to the side. A moan tears from my mouth when he bites, sucks, and nips on my exposed neck. Gripping my ass cheeks, he pulls me into his body so his lengthened cock braces my throbbing clit and halfway up my stomach.
I whimper when he withdraws from our embrace as quickly as he came. His eyes absorb my kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks before settling on my eyes.
“No more men in your apartment, Isabelle.”
Since my legs are no longer capable of holding their own weight, my body slides down the wall, and I sit on the ground. Lifting my lust-hazed gaze, I watch Isaac stride toward my front door. He exits without a single glance back in my direction.
I’ve barely regained the ability to stand let alone comprehend what just happened when I hear someone tapping on my front door. Begrudgingly, I scamper off the floor and pace to the door. I inhale deeply to relieve my flushed cheeks before swinging open the front door. I’m shocked and a little disappointed when I discover Brandon standing on the other side. My heart was hoping it was Isaac.
Brandon’s eyes scan my face. The longer he appraises me, the more his brows scrunch.
“I. . . umm. . . forgot to get my coat,” he says. “But you look busy, so I’ll come back later.” He quickly spins on his heels.
“Brandon, it’s fine. I’m not busy.”
I'm sure my flushed cheeks and wide eyes are awkwardly exposing my arousal, but I'm not too busy to gather his coat for him.
When he remains quiet, I grab ahold of his arm and drag him into the entranceway of my apartment. His eyes bounce around the interior more eagerly than they did when he arrived hours ago. When he doesn’t find what he is looking for, he returns them to me. I smile at his erratic behavior before moving to the coatroom to collect his jacket.
It is only when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the entranceway mirror do I realize what has caused his odd reaction. Right on my neck, as clear as day for all to see, is an unmistakably large and undignified love bite.
I’m going to kill him!
* * *
After ushering Brandon out of my apartment, hailing a taxi, wrangling with a colossal-looking bouncer to cut a long line, and weaving my way through a mass of sweaty bodies, I find Isaac in an impressive office at the back of his nightclub.
Two walls of his office are lined with dark mahogany bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling. Every shelf is filled to the brim with a range of books. Isaac has his back turned and is peering out a window that faces the side street. His body is covered with an impeccably tailored three-piece suit.
Letting my anger get the better of me, I grab one of the hardcover books and send it hurtling across the room.
“You son of a bitch,” I yell, my anger making me forgo rational thinking.
Isaac pivots around to face me, his eyes stern and unnerving. The roughness of his five o'clock shadow can’t hide the tick of his jaw, and his lips have thinned. Slanting his head, his eyes dart to the book that missed his back by mere inches before shooting back to mine.
"I'll call you back," he barks into his cell I didn't realize he was holding until now.
He houses his phone into the pocket of his trousers but doesn’t remove his hand. The evil expression on his face is all the indication I need to know he did this on purpose.
“This wasn’t an accident; you marked me. You branded me like some sort of. . .animal.”I stop talking and grit my teeth, fighting the urge to sob.
