Slowly, my gaze shifts from looking at Hunter to glare at Brandon. The smallest smirk of victory curves on my lips when Brandon attempts to return my intense stare down and miserably fails. Once his gaze drops to his polished shoes, I drift my eyes to Hugo.
“Why is he here?” My tone is flat and harsh.
One of Hugo’s shoulders lift into a hunch as he rubs a kink out of the back of his neck.
“Because I trust him,” says a sweet voice from the corner of the room. Just hearing her speak makes my cock turn to stone.
My eyes glide to the side of the room. Isabelle is leaning against the doorframe in more clothing than she was wearing mere minutes ago. Even though my eyes just vigorously assessed her delectable curves, I can’t help but scan them down her seductive body again. With a mouth that would bring most men to their knees, eyes that see straight through to my soul, and a body made to be pleasured, Isabelle is too enticing to only warrant one quick glance. The instant her eyes darken and she squirms on the spot, I know she feels my intense gaze absorbing her body.
There is no doubt I’m a sucker for punishment. I scrutinized the surveillance video of Isabelle and Brandon kissing in the hallway repeatedly the past week. Although Isabelle didn’t jerk away from Brandon’s embrace, her body didn’t melt into his either. She didn’t react with half the intensity she does when I kiss her. Call me conceited, but I only need to glance at Isabelle to make her body respond more than Brandon’s kiss did. Just one glimpse of my eyes raking over her body, and evidence of Isabelle’s arousal filters through my nostrils. Isabelle’s seductive scent is the sweetest and most intoxicating thing I’ve ever smelled. My cock twitches just thinking about how delicious she smells.
“Brandon has done nothing but help us, Isaac,” Isabelle confirms as she glides across the room.
When she stops in front of me, her intoxicating smell permeates the air surrounding us. I clench my fists at my side, internally battling the urge to mark and claim her in front of the three men whose eyes haven’t left her since she joined us in the room.
Her big, chocolate brown eyes stare up into mine as she promises, “You can trust him.”
Isabelle’s eyes are my eternal weakness. Not only can they see straight through to my soul, they consume it as well. My heavy-lidded gaze takes several moments to appraise her beautiful face before I shift my head sideways to Hunter.
“Give him the serial numbers,” I order, gesturing my head to Brandon.
I don’t need to shift my gaze back to Isabelle. I can feel the heat of her smile defrosting the ice that formed around my heart the past week, ice only her smile can thaw.
“Thank you.” She balances on her tippy toes to place a kiss on my cheek.
Her lips scorch my skin and make my cock stiff. I'd give anything to be in an empty room with her right now.Anything at all.Then once she begged for forgiveness, I'd spend hours becoming reacquainted with her provocative body. It has only been a little over two weeks since she was underneath me, but it feels like months.
My narrowed gaze shoots across the room when Hugo asks, “Do you two need another minute to finish, or can we get this show on the road?” He has the biggest smile curved on his mouth, and his eyes are twinkling with amusement.
“You may only need a minute, Hugo, but most men require a lot longer than that to pleasure their women,” I remark, my tone pompous.
Hunter and Hugo’s boisterous chuckles bounce around the room; even a snicker escapes Brandon’s lips. The only person who stays quiet is Isabelle. Her pupils dilate, her pert nipples bud and strain against the thin shirt she is wearing, and her beautiful scent infuses the air.
My lips thin into a hard line. I can barely restrain myself from touching her as it is, and she is making my struggle ten times worse.
A jolt surges through Isabelle’s body, making her physically shake. Hearing the men across from her chuckling, her gaze shoots to them. My mouth curves high from the baffled expression tainting her beautiful face. Obviously, she is just as adept as I am about failing to notice anyone else in the room when she is in my presence.
A smile curls on Isabelle’s plump lips. “Okay, let’s get down to business,” she says, her voice relaying professionalism.
She pads to the other side of the room to gather a bursting-at-the-seams manila folder from underneath her dowdy, frayed satchel. When she pivots back around, the smile curving her lips slackens as a frown ruefully takes its place.
When she notices I’ve caught her concerned expression, she smiles uneasily before sitting on the stained sofa located across from the double beds Hugo, Hunter, and Brandon are sitting on. While keeping her gaze locked on the chipped coffee table, she removes several printouts from the folder.
“These were taken from Megan’s hotel room in Ravenshoe,” she advises, splitting the pile of photos into two separate groups.
I stride closer to Isabelle, sitting down in the spare seat next to her. Although she doesn’t show any outward appearance that she is affected by my closeness, her body gives away her deceit. The hairs on her arms bristle to attention as her breathing shallows.
My gaze shifts down to the collection of photos Isabelle has fanned out on the coffee table. “My security team has supplied me with similar photos,” I advise, peering at Hunter, who is nodding in agreement.
The day before I was arrested, Nick had a run-in with a lady at my nightclub. I immediately had a security detail placed on him. I also updated Cormack on the situation the days following my arrest so Nick would have adequate protection while on the road with his band.
Isabelle nods. “These are from today.” She hands me a selection of photos that have been printed on plain white paper.
When my eyes roam over the documents, the muscle in my jaw quivers, my fist clenching the paper so firmly, a crease forms down the middle of it. Just from these images, it is highly apparent Megan’s obsession with my brother is a little more than a random groupie/rock star fascination.
Isabelle places her hand over my clenched fist and gives it a reassuring squeeze. My gaze shifts from looking at the photos to her beautiful eyes, hoping to quell my anger. An anxious smile stretches on her face before her eyes turn to the other side of the room. No words are spoken, but Brandon nods before he gathers some printouts from a printer attached to Isabelle’s laptop.
“Thanks, Brandon,” Isabelle says as he hands them to her.
