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“A video?”
“Men are visual creatures. Seeing you in this outfit will make his head explode imagining all the things he’s going to do to you. Both of his heads,” she adds with a grin.
CHAPTERNINE
Isaac
Ihad given up on getting another text from Holly, knowing I was better off without another word from her.
But then, Sunday night, she sends one.
It’s not words but a video.
I immediately click to open it while telling Thane and Everett to get the fuck out of my office.
Jesus.
I don’t even recognize the girl – the woman – standing a few feet away from the camera and hate that I can’t zoom in. I do pause it, though. She’s wearing some sort of strapless leather dress that barely has enough material to cover her breasts. It’s just lines zigzagging down her stomach until it gets to the bottom. There, the tops of her hips and thighs are covered, but there’s nothing between her legs. The skimpy material is clipped to the top of her tall boots, the ones I helped her remove Friday night.
With her long hair flowing over her shoulders, lips painted red, she looks like a biker’s wet dream. All she needs is a Harley to straddle, and she would be the poster girl for any biker magazine.
I stare at her for so long, taking in every detail, that I nearly forget it’s a video and that there’s more.
I press Play and watch as she lowers herself into a white leather computer chair facing the camera. She spreads her legs wide, revealing herself to me, the part she kept covered last night. Her hand slides down her stomach but stops right before her fingers touch her pussy. Finally, she tilts her head to the side and speaks.
“Do you want to watch me again, Isaac?”
Fuck yes.
She’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
The thought immediately makes me feel guilty because that blanket statement includes my wife.
My poor wife, whose life I ruined when I knocked her up and convinced her to marry me. My poor wife, who went through hell because I couldn’t protect her.
It’s nice to escape the grief, the regret, for a little while, so I push those thoughts aside and restart the video, as if there will be a different ending this time.
No matter how badly I want to see her fingers inside of her, I don’t get to. At least not here, sitting in my office, staring at the damn phone screen.
Another text appears, this time her address. Nothing else. Just the number of her town house and the road.
An invitation.
One I shouldn’t even consider accepting.
But fucking hell, I am.
Then my head reminds my dick again of what I did to my wife. I can’t fuck up Holly’s life like that.
She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. I doubt she’s ever met a man who could truly ruin her. Hurt her. If she did, she wouldn’t want me looking at her, thinking about her, touching her.
I know she’s not some unspoiled virgin, but the boys she’s been with, or the professor, they’re probably all saints compared to me.
I need to shut this shit down between us before that happens. Before Lyla finds out and I lose her.
I’m heading out the door to my bike a minute later without even so much as a word to anyone in the bar.
A few minutes later, when I’m backing my bike into a parking spot out in front of the town houses, I’m trying to figure out what to say to make her stop this game of hers for good.
