Isa grinned at him. ‘Being serious for a second… I don’t usually do this; I promise you.’
He pressed his mouth to hers. ‘None of my business anyways. I’m just honored, so thank you.’
She was silent for a moment, trying to hide a smile. ‘Did you just thank me for sex?’
They both burst out laughing, and he shrugged good-naturedly. It was amazing how his smile softened the hard angles of his Roman god face, and she ran a finger across his cheek, drinking in his features, the long aquiline nose, the big clear green eyes, the full mouth. He was right, though; she felt as if this whole evening had been a dream – a really, really filthy one, she grinned to herself and gave herself a mental high-five.
‘What?’
She told him and he raised an eyebrow in mock reproach. ‘But I get into trouble for saying thanks?’ He slid up to lie back against the headboard and pulled her into his arms.
She snickered, snuggling into his chest, which she was sure was actually – not figuratively but actually - hewn from granite. His arms tightened around her, and she felt him kiss the top of her head.
‘Beautiful girl,’ he whispered, ‘where did you come from?’
She didn’t answer, just pressed her mouth against his chest. She could feel his cock already hardening again, pressing against her thigh.
Sam sighed, heady with desire, as Isa straddled him, feeling her thighs as they slid over his own. She took his cock in her hands and gently moved up and down the shaft. He sighed at her touch, and slid his hands around her waist, stroking her lovely belly with his thumbs. Her skin was a beautiful dark olive color – Zoe had told him Isa’s grandmother had come from India – and the way her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders – Christ, she was breath-taking.
He slid his hands between her legs and spread the lips of her sex, feeling her honey dampness against his fingers. She moved so she could guide him inside and he groaned as the velvety softness enveloped his cock. As she moved, rocking her body, sliding up and down the length of him, he cupped her face in his hands, wanting to drink in every part of her, study every curve, line, the shape of her almond eyes, their deep, deep brown, the small button nose, the full, pink mouth. The full cheeks made her look younger than her twenty-eight years, and their rounded shape echoed the rest of her body. Her full breasts, the slim waist, the soft hips, the soft curve of her belly.
Sam covered her mouth with his, drinking her in, tasting her cool breath mingling with his.
‘Isa…’ and he was rewarded by her soft moan. She began to move faster, and he clamped his hands on her hips, willing her on, pressing himself up, deeper inside her, impaling her on his cock. She rode him harder and harder until they both came, tearing at the other, biting, kissing. As they calmed down, Isa made to move, but he stopped her. He wanted to stay inside her as long as he could, not wanting the separation. He could not bear to think of a minute without her.
He reluctantly let her go after a few minutes, his erection finally subsiding. She slid from him, kissing him as she did, and he settled her into the crook of his arm. He drew his forefinger down her cheek, traced the shape of her lips and shook his head, bemused, then grinning wickedly.
‘Well, if just buying a painting can get me laid like that…’
She swiped at him playfully, and he hugged her to him.
‘So, now we’ve done that,’ he chuckled, ‘you promised me more of your incredible art.’ He looked around the room to see if it was near.
She smiled. ‘You don’t have to do that, you know, I won’t hold you to it.’
He looked at her, his eyes serious now. ‘I meant every word. You should be exhibiting; you should have your chance. Absolutely.’
She sat up, searching his face, trying to read him. ‘You really think so?’
‘I really do.’
She looked away for a second, and shifted her body, tucking her legs underneath her. Sam could feel her hesitation, her pulling away. He guessed what she was thinking, and he sat up, placing the flat of his hand against her cheek.
‘Hey. I really mean this and it’s not because of…,’ and he gestured between their naked bodies, ‘…this has nothing to do with the fact you’re an incredible artist. It’s two separate things – my wanting to champion your career is business. Wanting to fuck you senseless, well, I’m only human. God, look at you.’ He drew her to him again, wanting to kiss the doubt from her eyes. When he drew back, she was smiling, her beautiful eyes sparkling.
‘Say that again.’
He kissed her. ‘I’m going to fuck,’ - kiss – ‘you’ – kiss – ‘senseless.’ And he pushed her back onto the bed.
Later when they were exhausted, sated, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, her head in the crook of his neck, his lips against her forehead with their limbs tangled in the others. Outside, there was a deep indigo night, the streets of the island quiet with only a slight breeze picking up off Elliott Bay that made the rigging of the harbor boats chime and sing. Neither Sam nor Isa heard the slight creak of wood as the man climbed the stairs to Isa’s apartment. He stopped halfway up, listening, watching, and glancing over to the big house to check he wasn’t observed. Satisfied, he continued up and walked around the balcony that surrounded the small apartment.
He tried the door and finding it unlocked, silently slid into the apartment. He padded quietly through the rooms until he saw them. He listened to their breathing, hearing the deep heavy breathing of the deeply asleep. He glanced at the man dismissively then his entire focus was on the girl. She was lovely, soft features, her dark lashes sweeping down onto her cheeks as she slept. Her lover cradled her, his big arms curving protectively around her tiny frame, his long fingers splayed across her belly.
The man smiled as he watched her. I love you, beautiful girl. He knew he would have to prove it to her, make her believe and make her love him back.
And when she did, he would kiss her, hold her and then, with all of that love inside him, he would kill her.
Sam locked his arms around Isa’s waist as they stood on the deck of the ferry boat, bending to kiss her neck, her cheek and then her temple. She leaned into his touch, sighing happily. The Bay was like glass today, no breeze, and the ferry boat slid serenely towards the city.
Sam breathed in the scent of her hair, reliving the moment he had woken with her in his arms. She had opened her eyes and without a word they had made love, slowly, languorously. His body still vibrated with the memory of being inside her, the sound of her soft cries as she came.
They’d showered together, dressed and tried to sneak past the big house, but Zoe – obviously on lookout – had dragged them into her kitchen, made them eat a huge breakfast, muttering about getting their strength back. Seb was sniggering unrepentantly as Isa kicked him under the table. Sam smothered a smile. He loved how easy this little family was to be with, with their gentle teasing of each other. Zoe and Seb seemed utterly unsurprised at his presence, and Sam could see the relief on Isa’s face at their silent acceptance.
He grinned to himself now. What an unbelievable, incredible, passionate way to spend the night. The best decision of his life was getting on this ferry boat yesterday.
‘What are you grinning at, oh so smugly?’ Isa had turned her head to look at him, a small smiling playing on her beautiful mouth. He kissed her before telling her. She laughed, turning her whole body to face him.
‘Yeah, good move, tiger.’ She leaned back into him, sighing happily. ‘A very good move.’
‘You sure you can’t get off work?’ he said, sliding his hand into her t-shirt to cup her breast. She half-heartedly batted him away playfully but then, as he slipped his hand under her skirt, into her panties, between her legs and began to rub, his body turned to hide what he was doing; she moaned softly.
‘I wish I could…. oh…,’ her voice trailed off as the pressure on her clit increased. Sam covered her mouth with his own to muffle her moans. His fingers kneaded and caressed, already he kn
ew the shape of her, how her clit felt when it grew aroused, swelling like a ripe fruit under his touch. Isa began to tremble, her hands flat on his chest began to claw, her nails digging in as he felt the heat, the wetness against his fingers. Her face flushed the most beautiful pink, and she shuddered and came, silently, gasping for air, burying her face in his chest. Elation flooded through him as he held her, kissed her.
‘Isabel…’
She suddenly took his hand and pushed her way into the lounge of the boat, through the corridors to the restrooms. Ignoring the ‘Ladies only’ sign, she pushed him into a cubicle.
‘Fuck me,’ she ordered, looking him straight in the eye. A fire raged inside him as he unzipped his pants, and with one move, tore her panties from her. She jerked with the sudden pain of the cotton ripping against her skin as she expertly slid a condom onto his straining cock. He picked her up and she braced her legs against the far wall as he pushed her skirt up.
‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, little girl,’ he whispered and was rewarded by her hungry kiss as he slammed into her, his cock rock-hard and aching to pound her into the wall, possess her, screw her until she begged him to stop. She came again, too quickly for him – he was still rock hard – but turning around to face the wall, she looked back at him, her eyes alive, raising her skirt so he could see her perfect ass.
For a split second, he paused, understanding in his eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded, breathless. He parted her buttocks, marveling at the shape of them, the roundness. She leaned forward to help him but not before fumbling in her bag that she’d remembered to bring in with her and poured some of the coconut oil that she used to moisturize her hands onto her palms. Rubbing them together rapidly to melt it, she then reached behind her and slickened up his cock. With his cock better prepared now to enter her, he thrust into her ass. God, the feeling. As he fucked her, he reached around and slid his long fingers into her, his thumb flicking her clit, his fingers quickly drenched with her honey with her moans of pleasure driving him on.
Such long, sensual, tight thrusts, again, again, again, and he came explosively, trying to muffle his groans by burying his face in her hair. He could feel that her skin was hot, damp from sweat. Her hands were splayed on the wall, steadying her and he covered them with his, lacing their fingers together. She was gasping, leaning her forehead against the cool tile.
‘Isa…’ he whispered, ‘…my beautiful Isabel…’ He pulled out and turned her gently to face him. Her cheeks were pink, flushed, her eyes wide and excited. He was drawn into the deep warmth of them, so dark that he couldn’t tell where her irises ended and her pupils began.
‘I don’t know if there are any more ways I can tell you how beautiful you are…,’ he breathed ‘…but I’m going to tell you every day for the rest of my life.’
Her lips were on his then, and the kiss seemed to go on and on and on…
‘You have the smug air of the recently fucked.’ Cal, his legs thrown up on Sam’s desk, studied his half-brother with a mock-disgusted expression on his face. Sam grinned. He might be more than a decade younger than Sam, but Caleb Levy had all of the keen instincts and street smarts of a man twice his age. And the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Sam pushed Cal’s bare and very filthy feet from his desk. ‘Wise ass.’
Cal slid good-naturedly out of his chair and moved around the desk.
‘Was she pretty? Tell me she was hot – I know your taste – please tell me you ignored all your instincts towards, y’know, crayzeee and found…’
‘Wanna let me answer?’ Sam shrugged out of his jacket. Cal slouched into the chair opposite him, a triumphant smile.
‘I knew it. When you didn’t come home last night, I figured you must have scored.’
‘Charming.’ Sam sat down. He felt strangely disconnected from the conversation, his mind, his body still on that ferry boat with Isa. He could still taste her kiss, feel her skin, and revel in the sensation of being inside her.
‘Earth to Samuel,’ Cal intoned, and flicked a ball of paper at his brother. ‘Jeez, that good, huh?’
Sam smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, bro. Her name’s Isabel – Isa. I’m taking her to dinner tonight, and I want you to meet her.’
Cal was silent, studying his brother’s expression. ‘Okay, sounds good.’ He gave an incredulous chuckle. ‘Dude… you’re seriously telling me you met some girl in the last twenty-four hours and now you’re…’ He squinted at his brother then shook his head. ‘Whatever. I’ll be there.’
Sam tapped the desk, a wide smile on his face. ‘Good. Now let’s get some actual work done. We have a new artist to promote.’
Cal looked up, his blue eyes betraying his surprise. ‘Really?’ Then his face fell, and he sighed. ‘Wait… please tell me it’s not your new fuck buddy?’
Sam winced slightly. ‘Her name’s Isa, Cal. And yes, I know what you’re thinking, but this is an entirely different situation to, well, you know.’
Cal rubbed his hand over his dark blonde hair, his forehead creasing. ‘Yes, bro, I do know.’
Sam sighed. Cal had once been very close to Sam’s ex-wife Casey, had adored them as a couple but when Casey started to lose the plot… Sam would always regret the hurt his split with Casey had caused his younger brother. Afterward, it had seemed to color Cal’s own relationships as much as it had Sam’s.
‘Look, Cal, I’ll hold my hands up. Twenty-four hours ago, I’d be right where you are. No business and pleasure, oldest rule in the book. But Isa is…’ he shook his head, almost incredulous. ‘The connection… wait until tonight; you’ll see for yourself. She’s a completely different person to Casey.’
Cal still looked skeptical, and Sam couldn’t blame him. He changed tack. ‘Anyhow, her work is worthy of its own showcase. Nothing big, just a local show at Zoe’s gallery on Bainbridge, local press, some networking. I think if I tried to push her into more at this point, she’d balk anyway. So that’s what we need to set up.’
Switching to assistant mode, Cal had grabbed his notebook and was jotting down ideas, already thinking ahead of Sam’s plans. Sam loved that his brother was so reliable, so hardworking despite his laid-back manner; he trusted Cal to execute his plans to the highest quality, enjoyed the ease of communication between them. Their late father had raised an eyebrow when Sam had taken on Cal straight from college. Family shouldn’t work for family he’d warned, but Sam had followed his gut. Cal was the reason he was able to do his job as well as he did and he loved his half-brother for it. Sam leaned forward.
‘You don’t mind?’
Cal held out his hand for a fist bump, which Sam returned with a grin. ‘Consider it done. So, dinner tonight and I get to meet the hottie?’
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Isa.’
Cal grinned and disappeared, and Sam sat back, nodding to himself. He felt changed, weirdly, a different person to the one who had gotten on that ferry yesterday. More relaxed, less driven except when it came to her. He wanted to immerse himself in her, her life, her work, her glorious body. Every part of her.
Jesus, man, get a grip. But he said it to himself with a smile. Isabel Flynn.
He had no doubt he would change any part of his life for her.
Isa skipped out at lunch and caught a cab into the city to find something to wear to dinner that evening. She darted in and out of the stores, trying to find something suitable. Sam was so elegant, his clothes so beautifully tailored that she felt she had to make an effort to look less like a scruffy artist. At least for one night, she told herself. She didn’t want him to think she’d change completely for him; she was still a tomboy at heart, always would be. Somehow she didn’t think he would mind.
She found a simple dress in one of the more alternative stores and while it wasn’t designer, the moment it slid over her body, she knew that it was the one.
Changing back into her work clothes, she suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere of the changing room. Someone was in the room with h
er. She pushed the curtain aside and peeked out. The other cubicles were empty as far as she could see, only the last two at the end of the narrow corridor were out of sight.
Paranoia.
But she dressed quickly and went to pay for the dress. The weather outside had turned wet, and the sky had darkened with the threat of an oncoming storm. She dashed through the rain, darting down an alleyway and short cuts she knew by heart on her way back to the college. It was so dim that by the time she got there, that the lamps in the parking lot had sparked to life.
Isa walked to her department, along a small pathway, the college wall to one side, a thick privet hedge on the other. There were no lights down here, and the pathway was nearly a city block in length.
She heard the footsteps behind her and spun around. No-one. She squinted into the shadows, her heart thumping. Last year, there had been a series of sex attacks on young grad students and other women both at the college and in the city. In the aftermath of that, the tension and fear had yet to abate.
Isa told herself that there was nothing and the footsteps had merely been an echo of her own, but as she turned back, her pace quickened and finally, with a sigh of relief, she stepped into the building, and a rush of people surrounded her on their way to classes.
She hung the dress up on the back of her office door. Checking her phone, she found a message from Sam, telling her that he would pick her up at six. Glancing at the clock, she smiled. Four more hours. She sighed happily and finally, got back to work.
‘Wow.’ Isa stepped into his penthouse apartment and looked around with wide-eyed admiration. Sam smiled at her reaction; he had been expecting it but still. Her opinion was worth so much more to him. Isa slowly walked around the huge space, taking in the ceiling-to-floor windows that gave a panoramic view of the city on two sides; the expensive and stunning art on his walls; the comfortable and yet elegant furnishings.
Sam held his hand out to her, and she took it, smiling, as he led her silently into his bedroom. Above his bed, he had already hung her painting; its rich, vibrant colors bursting out, giving life to the dark, muted shades of the room’s décor. Sam watched pink spots appear on Isa’s cheeks and when she turned to him, her eyes glistening with tears, her smile radiant, proud.
The Midnight Club Page 31