I’ve been relishing every second we’ve spent together. I love that I'm one of a rare few who get to see Isaac like this—so raw and open. He's a guarded man who keeps his cards held close to his chest, but the more time I spend with him, the more information he's sharing. I discovered why he's so fierce in ensuring his brother is safe and protected and how he met Cormack. I even got small snippets on how his empire started from the investments he made fighting in the underground fighting ring.
I snag a handful of grapes off the cheese and fruit platter on the coffee table, needing something to distract myself from getting all teary-eyed and sentimental. I pop a grape into my mouth as Isaac ambles into the room with a new bottle of wine. He's donning the same suit he was wearing this morning, except no jacket, vest, or tie. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, showcasing his smooth, tan chest, and the front is crinkled from me lounging over him the past three hours.
“How do you even know Regan has a sex swing?”
A grin tugs his lips as he fills the spot next to me. “Who do you think arranged to have it installed?”
I screw my nose up. “That’s only slightly odd.Hey, boss, I want a sex swing, can you arrange it for me?” My impersonation of Regan’s voice sounds more like a twelve-year-old hormonal boy than the sexy, throaty purr I was aiming for.
Isaac laughs. It’s a husky chuckle that has my toes curling and my libido awakening. “She didn’t ask quite like that. I own her apartment, so she sought my approval before she had a support beam placed in the roof.”
I pop another grape into my mouth. “You need a support beam installed?”
“Oh, yeah, if you're doing it right, you do.”
Energy crackles between us, sparking the air with the pungent aroma of lust. My throat burns from swallowing the grape whole when I catch his searing gaze staring at my lips. Even though he’s only had a few glasses of wine, his gaze is misty and glistening like he's tipsy. It isn’t alcohol causing the glimmer in his eyes, though. It’s the drunken haze of lust.
Feeling playful, I pop another grape into my mouth, chewing it slowly before delving my tongue out to lick its juicy residue off my lips.
Isaac growls. “You’ll pay for that tease later.”
“Oh, yeah, if I’m doing it right, I will.” My tone is laced with cheekiness since the wine heating my blood is making me more daring than normal.
Isaac shifts his position so he's sitting nearer to me. “If Jae didn’t enforce a no physical-activity stipulation on your discharge paperwork, I would have had you bent over this couch with your perfect ass high in the air, plunging my cock deep inside your greedy pussy well over an hour ago.” I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting hard not to squirm from his lusty gleam when he moves in even closer. “But since I’m under strict doctor’s orders not to touch you, we better continue with our game.”
I huff, my lower lip dropping into a pout. Isaac smiles, happy he returned the sexual frustration baton back to me. We’ve been playing a game of ping pong with it all afternoon. Little teases, flirty comments, and brief touches have my inner vixen begging for him to touch me, but no matter how many times she pleads, Isaac remains a safe distance.
Surprisingly, the score in our provocative game is even. It’s enthralling knowing a man with such tantalizing sexual appeal as Isaac’s finds plain, little old me as arousing as I find him.
Isaac sets down his glass of wine. “Since you asked two questions, I'm going to ask you two sets of questions.”
“Okay.”
My breathing stills when he glides his index finger down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his touch. “Do you want to install a sex swing here?”
My pulse quickens as my pussy clenches. While nodding, I return his lust-riddled gaze, ignoring the hollering my insides are doing.
“Say it.”
“Yes.” I squeeze my thighs together, lessening the intense throb between them.
“Okay. I’ll arrange it.”
The thump of my pussy grows dangerous. His sexual prowess has always been astonishing, but the idea of trying something new with him has my inner vixen gyrating in excitement.
“You have one more question.”
In an instant, his composure goes from teasing to driven. The mask I’ve seen him wear several times, usually during business meetings, slips over his face. Blood teems through my veins, wondering what’s caused his sudden shift in demeanor. The sparkle of lust is still in his eyes, but something more antagonizing is dulling them.
Not requesting permission, I climb onto his lap and straddle his splayed thighs. After draping my arms around his shoulders, I stare into his clouded gaze, offering him quiet comfort. I feel his pulse surging through his veins from our closeness, but it has nothing on the thump of my heart when he asks, “Marry me, Isabelle?”
My nose tingles as moisture rushes in my eyes. “What?”
“Marry me?” he repeats.
The words ‘it’s too soon’ are sitting on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how many times I try to force them out, my mouth won’t relinquish them. Denying his request is the logical thing to do, but my heart doesn’t want to listen to reasonings. It knows when Isaac and I are together, time doesn’t matter. We don’t notice if an hour, a week, or a month has passed. It’s just us—two people fighting against a world wanting to tear us apart.
While returning his penetrating stare, I realize it isn’t drive sparking his eyes. It’s fear. Fear that he's opening himself up, and that I’ll shut him down by saying no. Fear that I’m not bound to him as tightly as he is secured to me. Fear of living his life without me.
