Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1)

by Rissa Brahm

  *

  She was on a high.

  When they left the club, the thick Vallarta humidity immediately smothered them. It had just rained, torrentially so, it seemed. Isabel dodged and sidestepped around puddles in her tall, narrow-heeled sandals.

  Why she wore anything but flats when she knew she was one big accident waiting to happen, she’d never say out loud. But at five-foot-two, she justified that style and stature were just too important. Especially in her line of work. And since fate had left her alive to breathe and walk, then she’d damn well look decent doing it.

  And Zack offered her his hand like a gentleman, making sure she didn’t fall. Vallarta’s cobblestoned streets and potholed roads were a challenge. And although she was becoming somewhat of a master at navigating life’s uneven ground, she’d had plenty of collisions with the earth because of the inconsistent stone streets of her Vallarta.

  Yeah it’s the cobblestone, or the waiter, or the mop bucket, Isabel, that’s the issue. Right.

  Whatever, she was just glad to have her hand in his, for balance and for the seemingly perfect fit of their fingers.

  Don’t get used to this, Isabel! Just don’t.

  They reached his parking spot on the street back at the Five Breezes Resort, and she smiled at the hot red sports car. Such a bachelor, but one with damn fine taste. And rarely did one of her evening companions open the car door for her. It was sweet. He was sweet.

  And God, too damn sexy.

  But he made her feel just as sumptuous. She felt his eyes indulge from behind and sensed him examining her every curve as she smoothly and deliberately folded herself into his passenger seat.

  “Thank you,” she said, getting wetter between her thighs with the idea of him above her. Soon. But, God, not soon enough.

  With a wink and that delicious smile of his, he shut her car door. And at that exact moment, a bus passed, followed by a tidal wave from a Vallarta street puddle. It rose up and over him. And his car. And clear over to the sidewalk.

  Isabel shook her head, scared to look. When she did open her eyes, she saw Zack dripping wet outside her window, like a sad, wet dog, a look of awe on his face, his hard chest heaving.

  And there it is.

  Case in point for her one-date rule. Thankfully, a minor one. Past examples on her sexual escapades—a fender bender with John a month back, and three weeks ago, Drew from Germany had incurred a huge bruise to the head, and to his ego, from a tree limb they’d walked under—all served as important reminders for why she’d made her rule in the first place. If broken, the puddle or the concussion no doubt led to something far worse, far more permanent.

  Never again.

  She pulled a scarf from her purse and put it on the leather-upholstered driver’s seat as he moped around the front of the car, not even attempting to wipe the muddy street water from his face. She couldn’t see his expression, but it didn’t matter when the clouds opened for another round of rain. She almost laughed, but caught herself so that when he opened the car door, he was greeted by her infinitely warm and empathetic smile.

  With one soggy foot inside, he picked up her scarf. “No, please, take it. I don’t want to ruin this. The car’s a rental anyway. And I am hopelessly waterlogged, it wouldn’t even help.” He tossed the scarf onto her lap as he squished into the bucket seat.

  “It was my fault, anyway,” she muttered, even though he couldn’t possibly understand why.

  “Yeah it was. If you weren’t so goddamn gorgeous, attracting the attention of every man, woman, and roadside puddle…or rather, lake…” He snickered, one sultry eyebrow raised.

  She reached over the gearshift and with the tip of the scarf, she tenderly wiped away the rolling droplets cascading down his nose. “Strange, because I didn’t notice any one else’s attention but yours.” She smirked, blinked then stared—God, she could drown in those sea green eyes.

  “Mmmm.” The deep rumble in his chest hit her ears. Her answer pleased him.

  And his obvious hunger pleased her. But it was when his lip curled with sinister delight, and his forever-gaze deepened, and the rain turned from pattering to pounding all around them, that the all-out crescendo of the combination made her core’s ache billow to overwhelming lust for this man. This stranger.

  Only one beat passed before their hands reached for each other in unison, and mouths crashed. An inhaling, all-powering kiss. Fast and furious and rain soaked. Breath caught and found, then lost again. Too much, and not enough.

  *

  “Let’s get back to your room,” she panted through entwined lips, “and get you out of these wet clothes.”

  And his reply? More depth, more fire, more insane heat infused into the connection their lips had already made.

  God, that kiss. It stole her breath, her sight, her hearing. And her soul screamed for more still.

  But Zack pulled away, wide-eyed, surprised, shocked even. Had he felt the same indescribable intensity that she had? Overpowering. Surreal.

  She hunted for the answer in his face as he caught his breath. She broke a smile, because his narrowed eyes searched her face with what seemed like the very same question.

  He took one last lungful of air, then nodded his head. “Yes, wet clothes,” he stammered, started the vehicle and pulled out of the spot, his front tire bumping the curb before screeching into traffic. They were obviously heading farther uptown toward his hotel, and with more speed than was safe on a rainy Vallarta night.

  CHAPTER 6

  That kiss. Holy fuck, that kiss. Where the hell had this woman come from?

  He’d never known such an attraction, an in-sync connection, one that was powered beyond sexual energy. What he felt with Isabel was beyond imagination.

  And that robotic monotony he’d felt only hours ago was replaced by an energy, a fulfillment. And then that fucking kiss!

  Her hand on his thigh, his pulse pounding in every part of his body, he was enthralled and entranced by this woman. Enlivened.

  His ass began buzzing with an incoming text.

  “That’s something…new.” Isabel smirked.

  “Shit—my phone! It must be soaked.” He struggled to get it from his rear pocket.

  “Please, let me.” She slid her slender hand under his right ass cheek, into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He caught a glimmer in her eye, and he couldn’t contain his need to touch her, to feel some part of her electric flesh against his ice-cold hand.

  “I’ll read it at the light,” he said, reaching under her skirt instead. He squeezed her warm and welcoming thigh, then slowly slid his way up, creeping farther still until he met her sweet spot, already wet. Yes, just for him. He plucked the thin strand of her thong, which had been wedged between her silken velvet lips. Then he massaged his way back down to her knee, a small disappointed groan coming from her with his hand’s withdrawal. Goddamn, he wanted to tease her all night long. And he would, and couldn’t wait.

  At the red light—the damn time-wasting red light—he glanced at the missed text. “Shit. That’s tomorrow,” he thought out loud. Then he turned to Isabel hopefully, trying not to stammer over his words, which was still a goddamn challenge since they’d met earlier that afternoon.

  “So, uh, not to jump the metaphorical gun, but tomorrow morning I have a brunch to hit for my attorney’s charity group. Everyone is supposed to bring someone new…so, if you eat…food…” He paused, trying to resurrect the self-assured Zack James from wherever he’d gone. At least his cock was still standing strong—it was just his damn words that kept falling short.

  He took a good breath and continued. “I assure you, after tonight, you’ll be absolutely famished. You should be my breakfast date.” That at least came out in one piece.

  “Thanks, but no, really, I can’t.”

  “You don’t eat? It’s gratis!” he teased.

  She glared back. “It’s not that, fuck you very much.” She glared with puckered lips.

  “It’s cool. I just thoug
ht, we’ve had so much fun up to now, and we’ll have even more fun in my suite. A good meal among…friends? A nice topper, that’s all I’m saying.” He glanced at her to see if his nonchalant argument was making an impact, swaying her whatsoever.

  Just then, a woman with a baby in her arms stepped into the road. Zack screeched to a stop just in time. Fuck those randomly placed, albeit beautifully landscaped Vallarta street dividers, all with unmarked crosswalk paths. Jesus Christ.

  The woman just stared at them through the windshield, then continued on, as if it wasn’t 1:00 AM and pitch black on an 80 km-zoned roadway she had just happened across. With an infant in arms!

  “Holy shit, that was just way too close!” Zack’s hands were gripping the steering wheel with all he had. “Puerto Vallarta, damn it! I love her…but, really? I’d rather not be put away in a Mexican prison for vehicular manslaughter because they damn near encourage jaywalking! All those manicured grass dividers with a billion paths to death. They’re all along the highway lanes! And then add the insane cabs, ancient buses, random horses, and pizza scooters. Fuck!” he ranted.

  “That poor child,” Isabel said quietly and obviously ignoring his frustration, her eyes following the woman and baby, almost as if she was willing them to safety on the far side of the road.

  Zack smiled at her sweet side amidst their palpable heat. “Yeah, but who takes a baby out this late at night? Shit, never mind,” he said, pissed that his heightened blood flow was now diverted from his cock up to his racing heart because of his near heart attack from the close call.

  She stopped clutching the passenger seat for dear life, moved her hand back to his thigh, bringing him back to the present, and said, “So, I have a rule.”

  “Only one? Is it about jaywalking?”

  “No, actually. It’s a one-screw rule. It ups my game. I always put in my all,” she said jokingly. “And the rule has an obvious subsection: no relationships.”

  She was so serious all of a sudden. A different side to her, still sexy, but it threw him a little.

  “I like a woman with a strong work ethic,” he answered to part one of her comment. “But as for a relationship, I would hardly say a brunch counts. An innocent late morning meal between…friends, physically close friends, is nothing to fear, right?” he asked her as he turned into the portico of the Airington.

  The conversation paused there as Zack handed the valet his keys, and then went around the car to usher Isabel out, taking her hand, and keeping it in his grasp.

  The silence and lust between them was thick as he led her through the lobby and into the elevator.

  *

  The elevator doors slid shut.

  He pressed the penthouse floor.

  Then he pushed her sumptuous ass into the elevator handrail and ground into the center of her smooth mocha thighs. “But one thing you should fear,” he continued their car talk, “is an addictive sexual encounter with me.” He breathed into her right ear with an intentional tone of arrogance. He might have been a Jittery Jason when it came to casual conversation with this woman, but his usual stride was all there when it came to the topic of pleasuring the living daylights out of this woman.

  She played coy, not letting his desperately seeking mouth reach hers, and his lust magnified with every teasing twist of her head.

  The elevator stopped at the penthouse, and he let her feet down to the floor. They exited the elevator, and as they walked, his hand slid into place low on her hip. Then he gently pushed her in front of him, wanting to watch her walk, her buttocks swaying, calling to him. His gaze moved up her back stopping at his puzzle piece. He wanted so bad to outline it with the tip of his tongue, then down her spine, all the way down to her smooth, round ass, and then around to the front to what his fingers gleaned from the car ride was a freshly shaven mound. Heaven.

  He stuck his hotel key into the slit, and the door opened gracefully. Before entering, Isabel hesitated. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  She smiled, no eye contact. “Zack, just wanting to be clear. I like to keep it casual. I draw my line at one night. That’s really all we’ve got.”

  His eyes focused on her like lasers, not worried about her lines. Not worried at all. Because for all the self-assurance he lacked around this woman, he had an overwhelming amount of confidence in the undeniable fire ignited between them. That fire would turn any and all lines either of them dared to draw to fine, wind-strewn ash.

  “Got it.” And he escorted her into his suite and shut the door behind them.

  CHAPTER 7

  Isabel stepped through the door, slick heat running through her and pooling at her core. She let her jacket fall at her feet while Zack hiked her skirt up to her hips, exposing her thin string thong against her smooth-as-silk mound, which she always kept groomed for this exact occasion.

  In a flash, he had his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up and pressing her back against the wall at the penthouse entrance before she could even check out that bay view he had bragged about.

  But she couldn’t have cared less about the view fifty stories up, because—oh, God—he was more amazing to look at than Heaven and Earth combined!

  His mouth ravaged hers as she tore her hands through his hair, just-long-enough waves of auburn for her to grab and pull. “Let’s definitely get you out of these wet clothes,” she whispered, and then felt his whole body shiver, pinned there by her tight but trembling legs.

  His hand pulled her shirt down at the neckline to devour her right breast, heavy and exposed above her black lace demi-bra. He popped her nipple out from under its blanket of frill and twirled the hard button with the tip of his tongue. Then, going crazy from the overstimulation, she pulled his face back up to her mouth and she devoured him right back.

  He cupped her ass and carried her further inside the suite while she pulled her mouth away to gasp for air. Lungs replenished, she went in for another delectable taste of him…but noticed his once-hungry eyes had flicked to the minibar.

  “What is it?” she breathed, brushing her lips against his neck, her body’s angle against his rock hard cock making her need spike a million degrees.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing in the entire universe is wrong right now! Isabel…Jesus, you are so fucking right, it hurts,” he managed through panted breath.

  He carried her across the room, her nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Between her heart pumping triple time, her increasing lack of oxygen, his incredible scent penetrating her nostrils, remnants of her tequila buzz, and the peripheral view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, she felt completely dizzy.

  But when they landed on the sofa, him grinding into her arousal, she became anchored again, safe under his protective cage of bulk manhood. His mouth delivering a torrent of sensual, focused attention to hers.

  It felt divine. Indescribable.

  Right up until he stopped, backed off and stepped back, hands up in the air as if surrendering to something or someone.

  *

  “What? What is it?” she asked, slightly out of breath, a little frustrated and definitely confused. She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind right then, but judging from his intense erection begging to be rescued from his pants, he wasn’t backing away from her because of…her. Right?

  “I can’t go so fast,” he stammered then raked his hands through his hair. “You are too fucking…amazing, Isabel.”

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob up then down in his thick, ropey neck, while her heart did the same in her chest. Was he for real? Or was this the end of their heated play? Because it felt like something had cut the power at the electrical box.

  “I need a drink, you?” He spun around then walked over to the minibar.

  Yes, it seems like we’re done. She leaned forward on the sofa, her chest still heaving while he pulled out a glass from below the bar counter, then glanced up at her. “Isabel…I need to drag this out… I need to…savor you.”

  She b
linked then squinted at him from across the room. Okay. Somewhat cheesy, but she could like being savored. She relaxed a bit into the sofa’s mold and let her lip curl a fraction, relief and a new round of heat resuming below her middle. “Sounds okay to me.”

  A quick exhale of relief, then a nod. “So a drink?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take one, thanks,” she said then smiled, but couldn’t shake the weird feeling in her gut that had only crept in since moving into the expansive hotel suite.

  He winked and grinned back while, with attempted subtlety, he snatched some logoed paper from the bar-top and then craned his neck around the corner, toward another internal doorway. She assumed…the master bedroom? He looked at the paper with wide eyes and then seemed to sigh with relief.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yes. I just…had a massage last night—long flight—and housekeeping left the bill. Anyway, let me pour you—what? I’ve got vodka? Then I can come over there and give you a massage…one you damn-well won’t forget!” He winked again then poured their drinks, ignoring the splashes leaping over the sides of each glass.

  She watched him and heard him, but somehow something in his demeanor had changed. Maybe still off his game like he had said—possibly nervous about performing? She didn’t think he had anything to worry about, but she knew that between psych classes, years’ worth of talking down nervous grooms, and her own sexcapades, sexual performance was such a mental thing for guys. And for women, for that matter.

  Or, what if she had freaked him out with the one-night thing? What if he was really into her, and she’d led him on—maybe told him her rule too late? Most foreigners were thrilled at the prospect of no-strings-sex, but maybe Zack was different. She did feel different with him, an amazing different. And that was bad. While detachment was good and necessary, ‘amazing’—definitely not good. It was dangerous. And if he felt the same way—even worse.

  Maybe she should go? Yeah, she should definitely go.

  But watching him smile at her from across the room, she didn’t want to go. Her throbbing clit was screaming, “Stay!”—and the hot need deep in her belly would be less than satiated with her vibrator at home.