by Shandi Boyes
I drag Isaac to the seats Mrs. Marshall assigned to us. “Let them be. Callie could have picked worse than Hugo’s son.”
Isaac grumbles something under his breath as the redness on his face doubles. I’m not surprised. I’ve always said no man will stand a chance in hell of dating Isaac Holt’s daughter. I should probably change that comment to include cute little almost five-year-olds who have no clue about the controversy he’s causing.
A normal person would construe Joel and Callie’s instant connection as cute and adorable. A man like Isaac will scrutinize every sideways glance they share as if they’re the answer to world hunger. Such as, is Callie smitten with Joel because all women with Popov blood have a fascination with Marshall men? It’s far-fetched, but believe me when I say Isaac has considered that theory multiple times since Hugo and Ava’s wedding last night.
You’d think the love Hugo displayed to his new wife would have assured Isaac our kiss was the hasty decision of two heartbroken people. Hugo thought he was losing his son, and I thought I had lost the love of my life. We made a mistake, one we regret every single day but are doing everything in our power to make up for.
Hugo did the Gangnam-style dance last night, for crying out loud. You can’t get more committed than that.
Hugo is as committed to Ava as Isaac was about discussing our future after he took me in the tub. I often dreamed of having Isaac’s son. A little boy with eyes like his father’s and just as much determination, but after seeing how he is with Callie and knowing how much he loves her, the desire hasn’t been as strong the past seven months.
I wasn’t raised by my father, but I was loved more than I would have ever been if I stayed with the Popov entity. There are millions of children in the world who don’t have a stable, loving environment to live in. Shouldn’t they be given the same opportunities as Callie and me?
Besides, from what I was informed two nights ago, a reversal isn’t the only way we can add to our family if the desire ever arises. We could adopt, or we could use the sperm Dr. Jae stored years ago without Isaac’s consent.
Could you imagine the gall required to go against a man as fierce as Isaac? Not only did Dr. Jae try and stonewall his plans to have a vasectomy at the tender age of twenty-one, she broke the law by withdrawing sperm from Isaac before his procedure.
Isaac was understandably pissed when she confessed. He threatened to sue her if she didn’t have the sample immediately destroyed. Mercifully, not even his wrath had Dr. Jae backpedaling. It was for the best.
Isaac used his fervent need to forever shelter me as the reason he refused to look further into Dr. Jae’s claims that IVF would be a better option for us instead of a reversal, but a small part of me wonders if it has more to do with his dominant, alpha male persona.
He hates the thought of me being placed in stirrups by anyone but him. He’ll never admit it, but his determination to screw me senseless after I brought it up greatened my belief.
Although he’s still somewhat apprehensive, at my request, Isaac called Dr. Jae before Hugo’s wedding yesterday to request her to keep his sample viable in case it’s needed in the future.
He also found a way to buy out the bionic firm responsible for the facility’s security before handing its safekeeping to Hunter’s security firm—all before nine in the morning. It was thrilling watching him in his element. His fierce businessman persona is as riveting as his angry one, although not quite as ravishing as when he is jealous.
Recalling the morning that had me falling in love with him more than I thought possible, I tug Isaac to me by the lapels of his business suit. My mouth captures his growl when I seal my lips over his.
Our kiss is barely a peck, but it wipes the unease from his face just as quickly as it slicks my panties with moisture. It’s not possible to interact with a man as deliciously handsome as him and not get horny. Believe me, I’ve tried every tactic known to women to quell my desire to forever want to be beneath him. Nothing works.
“Now come eat pancakes with me until I feel as full as I do anytime you’re in me,” I talk over his mouth before playfully tugging on his lower lip with my teeth.
Fortunately, the ruckus occurring around the brunch table on the back patio of Hugo’s family home means no one heard my comment.
Unfortunately, Harlow seems to have a knack of knowing when Isaac is hard in public.
With a giggle, she plops into a seat across from us before pointing out Isaac’s discomfort to Cormack. She’s not silly. Her claims that jealousy sex is the best sex there is has been proven multiple times the past year. I just wish I wasn’t getting jealous over my baby sister hogging my fiancé’s attention.
My interest is diverted from Cormack’s flaming-with-anger face when a commotion at the side gains my attention. Men Isaac had a quiet word with last night smack their hands on the tabletop while shouting derogative comments in the air.
“No camera to hide behind tonight, sweet cakes.”
“It looks like my bland morning is about to become a raging all-nighter.”
Because their comments are directed at the pretty blonde photographer who snapped Hugo’s wedding, Isaac doesn’t respond as he did last night when they hackled Harlow and me in the same manner. He doesn’t need to. Hugo’s glare takes care of the unwanted bantering, much less the photographer’s wide, panicked eyes.
After mumbling out a string of apologies, they drop their eyes to the stack of pancakes on their plates. Hugo takes a moment to settle his anger before introducing the unnamed blonde to his brother, Chase. After accepting Chase’s handshake, she kisses Ava’s cheek, then rubs her rounded stomach.
Yes, Ava is pregnant.
No, it doesn’t lessen Isaac’s jealousy when Hugo swoops down to plant a kiss on my cheek before introducing me to Gemma. I almost gasp when her green eyes, blonde hair, and delicate features register as familiar. She’s the woman in the pictures in Hugo’s file. The one he saved.
Oh my god.
My eyes snap to Harlow when Gemma silently gasps halfway through Hugo’s introductions of his extended family. She’s not stunned by the caliber of extremely handsome men in one room. Her eyes are only locked on one—Hawke’s.
“Did you hear that?” I mouth to Harlow.
She nods before bouncing her eyes between Gemma and Hawke, who are staring at each other as if there aren’t over three dozen people watching them. If it weren’t for Hugo playfully bumping Gemma with his shoulder, I doubt she would have escaped Hawke’s trance unscathed.
I crank my neck to Isaac when he growls a curse word under his breath. I’m anticipating for his eyes to be narrowed in warning to stay out of other people’s business, so you can imagine my surprise when I find his squinted gaze locked on Harlow.
“You’re kicking the wrong shin.”
Harlow grimaces like she’s remorseful. She’s not. She just wants Isaac to think that. “Sorry. I’m not a good judge of distance when a third leg is brought into the equation.”
I fight my hardest battle to keep in my giggles, but the smallest one still erupts from my mouth. It’s more from the steam billowing out of Cormack’s ears than what Harlow said. Still, it’s a laugh nonetheless.
I scrape my nails on the inside of Isaac’s thigh to appease his annoyance before shifting my focus back to Harlow. She jerks her head to my cell lying on the tabletop. It displays I have two Facebook messages from her. The first message is very much Harlow.
Harlow: Hawke and Gemma kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
The second one is a GIF of a photographer and an army sergeant. It’s so risqué, I’m shocked Facebook let her send it via Messenger. She’ll most likely get her ass hauled into Facebook jail after this stellar effort.
Isaac doesn’t hide his snooping ways when I reply to Harlow’s message. The stubble on his unshaven chin grazes my shoulder when he leans in close so he can read what I’m typing.
Me: Didn’t you say something about Rise Up needing a tour photographer?
My phone makes a whoosh noise a mere second before Harlow’s dings. She reads my message before glaring at me, confused.
I try another tactic.
Me: Hawke is Nick’s bodyguard. Nick is Rise Up’s lead guitarist. Anywhere Nick goes, Hawke goes. The same could be said for a tour photographer, right?
“Not if it interferes with Hawke doing his job.”
Ignoring Isaac’s grumble, I hit the send button. Harlow makes an ‘oh’ face two seconds later, then she’s whispering in Cormack’s ear even faster than that.
“Thank you so much for having us. Your home is lovely.”
Even though brunch was served hours ago, the smell of blueberries surrounds me when Mrs. Marshall, Hugo’s mom, wraps me up in a friendly hug. “You’re welcome back any time. All of you.” She’s not only referencing Isaac, Callie, and me, she is including the entourage of people who help make Isaac the success he is. “Are you sure Callie can’t stay for a few more hours? You’d be doing me more of a favor than a disservice. While she keeps Joel occupied, I can get the dishes done.”
“Thank you for the offer, but Isaac isn’t ready to cut the apron strings just yet.”
Mrs. Marshall’s blissful chuckle rains down on me. “Isn’t that your role?”
I halfheartedly shrug. “Depends. Are children born with overbearing father strings?”
She laughs again before rustling her fingers through Joel’s crazy ringlet curls. “Before Hugo came home, I would have said no.” The pride in her eyes finalizes her statement. She doesn’t just love her children. She’s proud of them too.
After a few moments of silent ruminating, Mrs. Marshall lowers her glistening green eyes to Joel. “Say goodbye to Callie, Joel.”
When his lips drop into an adorable pout, I say, “Don’t worry. You and Callie can have lots of playdates when you move to Ravenshoe at the end of the month.”
That perks Joel up. “Really?”
“Yep! Every day if you want.”
I wince when Isaac’s grip on my hand firms so much it hurts. It tightens even more when Joel bands his arms around my thigh so he can hug me goodbye. Now I don’t feel so ridiculous about getting jealous over Callie all the time. Isaac is just as riled up over a four-year-old.
“Thank you, Izzy.” I sigh at the adorable stumble of his words. After a final squeeze of my thigh, he does the same thing to Isaac. “Thank you, Unky Isaac.”
His unofficial ‘uncle’ title doesn’t just melt by heart, it thaws Isaac’s icy glare as well. After handing me a sleepy-eyed Callie, Isaac bends so he can return Joel’s farewell in a manner more acceptable for a grown man. I don’t know what he whispers in his ear after embracing him, but it has Joel running toward his dad screaming he’s going to get another “boganus.”
Once Mrs. Marshall follows after Joel, I shift on my feet to face Isaac. “What’s a boganus?”
He shrugs, truly confused. “I don’t know. I offered him an incentive to keep Hugo on his toes for the next week. Perhaps it has something to do with that?”
A grin curls on my lips. “Why would you do that?”
Isaac bands his arm around my waist before tugging Callie and me in close to his side. His protective hold makes me all types of giddy. “It was either make Hugo’s nights extremely long or fire him for goading me about getting married first.”
Oh. Happy to sidestep the interrogative bomb Isaac just threw out, I mumble, “That’s a fair compromise.”
“Talking about weddings…” He pivots me around, then guides me toward our car just as Callie’s head comes to rest on my shoulder. She isn’t sleeping. She’s exhausted from playing with Joel and his cousins all day. “… didn’t we have an appointment to plan ours today during brunch?”
He’s right, but that was before I knew about Hugo’s plan. “In all fairness, I sent my text before I discovered Hugo had invited us to brunch. It’s ill-mannered to discuss a wedding at a post-wedding celebration.”
Isaac arches a brow sardonically. “More than scheming to get two strangers together?”
“Did you see their connection, Isaac? Gosh.”
I almost swoon. That might have more to do with Isaac carefully removing Callie from my arms to place her in her car seat than anything. We’re not in one of the flashy sports cars Isaac usually gets around in. We’re in a top-of-the-line, highest-rated safety SUV on the market.
Once he has Callie buckled in, Isaac pivots on his heels to face me. The air sucks from my lungs from the sheer closeness of his unbelievably gorgeous face. “I saw the sparks, Isabelle, but they’re two very broken people—”
“Not any more than we were and look at us now.” His eyes are as commanding as ever, but they have a hint of understanding in them, or is it love? Both are on par with the other when it comes to me. “If it weren’t for Harlow and Cormack scheming to get us together, we may have never got here, Isaac. We can’t force Hawke and Gemma’s connection, but we can encourage them to explore it.”
A brick lodges in my throat when Isaac’s eyes narrow into thin slits. “What do you mean Harlow and Cormack plotted to get us together?”
When my wide, terrified eyes stray to Harlow’s, she spots the urgency in them, but instead of coming to my rescue, she shoves Cormack into the back of a stretch limousine before climbing in after him. Traitor!
Once their transportation of choice is nothing but a speck on the horizon, I swallow the brick in my throat, then devote my focus back to Isaac. He has a sexy-as-sin smirk on his face. It’s all types of wicked, and it has my knees knocking, but that doesn’t mean I can tread lightly. The most savage wolves have the most devastating faces.
My raging heart is heard in my suggestion. “Should we discuss this more over dinner?”
To ensure his reply is heard over his ticking jaw, Isaac raises his voice a few decibels. “Will our meal be served on you?” He appears angry, but his question reveals he’s not mad enough not to rock my world as he does every night.
Feeling playful, I delve my tongue out to replenish my lips. Isaac watches its track like a missile locked on its target. “If you accepted Mrs. Marshall’s offer for Callie to have a sleepover, I would have said yes. Now—”
“I’ll settle for dessert.” He opens my car door for me, only just missing my smile. Well, so I thought. “And don’t think you won’t pay for your tease, Isabelle. If I didn’t need hours, I’d take you over my knee right now.”
14
Isabelle
Love does more than dominate.
It cultivates as well.
* * *
My torso jolts off the mattress as a purr-like moan rumbles up my chest. The slight thump of my head exposes sunrise is still hours away. Although Isaac and I went to bed late, not a single regret is felt when the reason for my sudden awakening dawns on me.
Isaac’s head is between my thighs, and he’s bombarding my sex with hungry, wanton licks. He has awoken me in this manner many times the past seven months. It grows more glorious with each one I’m awarded.
As the pulse between my legs intensifies, I weave my fingers through Isaac’s magnificently thick hair. I’m not just advising him I’m alert and aware of what is happening, I’m holding his mouth hostage to my pussy, endlessly greedy when it comes to him.
“Good morning, Isabelle.”
I don’t get a chance to respond to the delicious rasp hindering his voice every morning. His velvety soft tongue is flicking my aching clit, sinking me deeper into the mattress. My womb tenses violently as my thighs begin to shake.
The control he has over my body is so wondrous, not even the three orgasms I succumbed to last night weakens the intensity of the zap roaring through me when he sucks my clit into his mouth.
Worry blisters my skin when Isaac fails to graze his teeth over the throbbing bud. Usually, that’s the final push I need to fall into ecstasy. If he’s not doing that, it can only mean one thing. He is withholding my orgasms. Oh no!
His threat yesterday was on m
y mind long after Callie had been bathed, fed, and placed into bed. Isaac doesn’t hand out threats halfheartedly. If you get one, expect it to be filled soon after he hands it to you. That’s why I was surprised when our night went off without a hitch.
He was the usual, attentive lover he always is, and he blew my mind in more ways than one. I thought that was because we finally agreed on a day to wed. It’s much further in the future than Isaac would have liked, but with his busy schedule, my new position, Callie’s December birthday, and Christmas, March 5 was the only suitable time. Although it’s a long time away, I’ve got plans in the works to make it not seem so long.
A relieved sigh parts my lips when Isaac fixates his eyes with mine over my swollen-with-need breasts. His heavy-lidded gaze reveals he isn’t punishing me. He’s just not ready for me to come just yet.
I find out why when he murmurs over my pussy lips, “I want you to come while riding my cock. I need to feel your squeezes, and for you to milk me dry before we’re shoved into a sardine can where I’ll smell how aroused you are but not be able to taste you for hours.”
“Then you better hurry,” I warn, too turned on by his words to act ashamed. “I’m dangerously close to the edge.”
I feel his lips rise against my sex. “Patience, Isabelle.”
After wordlessly commanding my focus, he drags his tongue up my slit in a slow, dedicated lick. A shudder overwhelms me when his nose stimulates the nerve-filled bud between my pussy lips a mere second before his mouth gets in on the action. He sucks, licks, and grazes his teeth over my clit until the pressure low in my womb becomes too great to ignore. I’m shaking all over, both hot and cold.
I fist the sheets in a white-knuckled hold when he murmurs, “You asked to be awoken like this every morning. I said it would be my pleasure once we waded through the mud surrounding us. We’ve done that now, so I have no reason not to answer your every whim.”