by Ava Frost
One of the finished pieces was a delicate lingerie made of red silk at the front and intricate black lace weaving at the back. There was a ribbon at the very bottom, just above where the butt, and a thong made of black and red lace patterns. A matching black robe with red glittery stones forming a dragon pattern completed the look, along with red glittery stilettos.
“That yours?”
“Yeah, that's my first sexy design,” Samantha said, suddenly sounding nervous. When Isabelle remained silent, the designer bit her lip. “Is it bad? I haven't shown the design to anyone except this guy I’m dating and the design manager, but they're both men and you as a woman would have a much better opinion about it. I mean, if it's really bad, maybe I can–”
“Sam, shut up.”
Samantha promptly shut her mouth, and Isabelle grinned. “It's wonderful. I would love to buy it...if I had a boyfriend I could show it off to.”
Samantha grinned back, obviously delighted with her reaction. Then she scoffed. “Oh, men will be lining up when they see you in that...trust me.” A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Wanna try it on?”
Isabelle blinked. “What?”
And then her question was lost as Samantha fluttered around like an excited bird, practically shoving the outfit in Isabelle's arms before leaving the room to give her privacy. Isabelle stared at the scraps of cloth for a few seconds before an idea lit up.
Perhaps she could cajole James into letting her write a new thought article about this collection. It would definitely spice up her resume and work experience, so to speak.
And what better way to review something than to try it on?
Checking to see that no one was coming, Isabelle made quick work of dressing up – tossing her clothes and underwear on the floor and sliding the G-string and lingerie on. Its silky material felt like heaven on her skin, and when Isabelle turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror nearby, she gasped.
The lingerie slid along her skin perfectly, covering the essential parts but giving tasteful, teasing looks here and there. She wore the stilettos and removed her ponytail, fluffing her hair around her face as she did so. She felt sexy, and wanted to strut like a peacock inside the room.
The door turned, and Isabelle kept her gaze on the mirror as footsteps sounded. Since everyone was basically gone, Isabelle didn't hide and instead grinned cheekily, fully expecting Samantha to walk in and check on her.
“Sam, come look and tell me I look hot as hell.”
The curtain to her dressing area parted – and her grin faded as green eyes focused and darkened, taking every inch of her in. There was something in his gaze that made her mouth go dry, made her throb at the realization of what his gaze meant.
Lust.
Then James' eyes met hers on the mirror.
Chapter 4
He took her home.
It was the most decent and rational thing to do at the moment, and he was desperately trying to grab at the rational part of his mind before he did anything he might regret. James had barely talked to her when he all but dragged her from her position in front of the mirror before ordering her to dress so he could take her home, then stalking outside to wait for her in seething silence.
But it was too late, because he’d already seen everything.
And it was burned through his soul for eternity.
Whatever his mind supplied of what she looked like without her clothes on didn’t do her justice at all, now that he’d seen what she looked like in real life. The lingerie she wore did nothing to hide her curves, emphasizing it instead as it molded perfectly to her body like second skin. Her cleavage had been out for him to see, and peeking through the material were her nipples, and – God. He ached.
He ached so badly.
He imagined them the color of pink roses or apricots, and imagined his mouth tasting the stiff pebbles. His erection raged at the thought, raged as he remembered the rest of her.
Flawless skin and soft, rounded hips. A ripe ass that he wanted to feel in his hands, and a flat stomach he wanted to kiss until she trembled.
But he had better control than that, and so he kept his cool as she came out of the room dressed in her normal wear, stiffly telling him to lead the way to his car.
The ride was done in silence, a far cry from their hour long afternoon sessions where she was nothing but bubbly and sly, cheerful and irresistible. Isabelle liked teasing him and challenging him intellectually – an intoxicating combination that he always tried to cut off by stopping any interaction with her the moment the clock struck five.
Sometimes, he wished she returned back to her shy days, when her head had been buried in books and teasing him was the farthest thing from her mind.
Oftentimes, he wished she'd be less subtle and seduce him boldly, so the decision would no longer be in his hands.
And then he would feel shame afterwards.
A few minutes later, James pulled up in the Monty’s driveway. Isabelle stayed in his car, biting her lip in silence.
“I don't want an incident like that happening again,” he started when it was clear she wasn't going to say anything.
Isabelle shrugged.
“Are we clear on that?”
Silence. Then–
“It wasn't what you thought it was,” she said quietly.
“If anyone other than me had walked in and tried to come on to you, your father would kill me.”
“I would have handled it perfectly well.”
“No one touches you in that office,” he said tightly.
“You're not my father to decide that,” she shot back, darkening eyes glaring at him. “In fact, I am the only one who gets to decide who I want to seduce in that office.”
Her hand went to the door handle of the car, and his own hand shot out to stop her from unlocking it. This action caused him to lean forward and face her directly, and he felt her breath stop before he heard it.
“Who were you trying to seduce?” he demanded softly.
Isabelle squirmed, then shook her head, reaching for the doorknob with her other hand. He stopped her movement and pulled her towards him until they were all but pressed together, warmth to warmth. Self-preservation seemed to kick in for Isabelle as she squirmed further against him, almost in protest.
Instead, it rubbed her body all over his, and he hissed in strangled pleasure as her knee brushed his pants. She didn’t notice.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“Not until you tell me the name first,” he snapped.
“No one,” she snapped back, pushing at him. “I was trying it out for an article. I wasn't looking to fuck anyone. I'm not that easy.”
Her breathing had quickened, causing her chest to heave up and down. It distracted him enough to glance down before he flicked his gaze back on her face. Isabelle's eyes widened as she caught it, and her pushing hands gripped at his dress shirt in frozen suspension.
Time stopped.
His voice became husky to her ears as he said words that should have made them both back off. “You're playing with fire, Isabelle.”
“I can handle fire,” she whispered. Her gaze lowered down to his mouth, and she licked her lower lip – an almost unconscious act.
It was his undoing.
With a low curse, James dragged her towards him, pressing her against his hardness and making her gasp in response.
Then he covered her mouth with his.
It was a fiery kiss, filled with passion and heat – spreading fire all over his body and making his cock react almost painfully, eager to thrust inside her. He took what she gave, the softness and heat, tasting the sweetness from her mouth and thinking it the most erotic thing in the world. He nipped, and he sucked, and he kissed every inch of her lips in a blur of desperation that he couldn't quite control anymore.
Then Isabelle sighed against him, her grip on his dress shirt turning lax as she leaned closer, her tongue coming out to taste. Her palms spread on his chest, sliding softl
y. She moaned sweetly, breathily.
No. He was wrong. This was the most erotic thing in the world.
Alarm bells started ringing in his head. Abruptly, James stopped the kiss and moved back, leaning back on his seat and closing his eyes as he tried to tamp down every emotion welling inside him and get his head back in place.
Silence reigned on her side of the car.
When James opened his eyes again, he found her staring straight at the dashboard.
“I told you I could handle it,” she said, her voice soft. Unsteady.
And then she unlocked the door and practically flew out of his car.
*******
When James arrived in his apartment, the first thing he did was heave a deep sigh and loosen the tie from his neck, images of her riding him hard right there inside the car still seared in his mind.
Stop.
Then he went to take the coldest shower of his life.
Chapter 5
Isabelle’s father came back into town exactly four weeks later, and dinner was the first thing on the agenda.
Unfortunately, James was also invited.
Unfortunately, her mother had gone to Florida for some conference.
It meant Isabelle had no excuse for not attending. Very reluctantly, she got dressed to impress and accompanied her father to the restaurant, not entirely pleased to find James already there and waiting for them in his seat.
James acknowledged Isaac first, a warm inflection in his voice as he casually commented on the older man’s lesser-tanned complexion.
“Yeah, yeah, sun’s never around in that crowded city,” Isaac grumbled.
James then turned to Isabelle, giving her a short nod and a polite hello. And that was that.
The waiter arrived and took their orders shortly after, and when the waiter was gone, Isaac began regaling both of them with stories about his trip to New York. He started with complaints about the weather, which amused Isabelle greatly because she knew her father’s love-hate relationship with said city varied greatly on one certain aspect – and that was whether or not her mother came with him on his trip. Since her mother had the conference in Florida, she couldn’t go, hence Isaac’s apparent glumness.
After the weather, Isaac discussed the business and the branch there, announcing the good news that sales were higher in the past few months – and apparently, they had James to thank for that because of his latest marketing ad. The food arrived and conversation trailed off as they ate, only picking up again once her father finished his meal and turned his attention to her.
“There’s a reason I brought you to this dinner, kiddo,” he began, giving her a smile.
“Hmm?”
“James told me all about your great writing and the article they’re going to run in the magazine shortly, and I read it as well and thought it was fantastic! I wanted to ask you something.”
Isabelle grinned. “Thanks, dad. I’m glad to hear you liked it.” She turned to glance at James, noting down that he was studiously looking at his meal before she looked back at her father. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”
“Well, I wanted to check in if you could perhaps write another article for us – something along the lines of the difference of our two branches and an in-depth buyer’s perspective?”
Isabelle thought it over. Then she shook her head.
“It’s a nice article, dad…but I have an even better one in mind.”
“Oh?”
Isabelle nodded, glancing one last time at James. Then she took the plunge.
“I know about the secret collection and I was thinking of writing a comprehensive review about it.”
She took a deep breath than saw James tense beside her, his fork pausing in its act of gathering some roasted potatoes. She pretended not to notice, instead turning her attention to her father, who was looking at her thoughtfully.
“So James told you about the collection?”
“I found out by accident,” Isabelle hedged, careful to keep Samantha out of it. She tried to keep her voice light as she said the next words. “And actually, James has seen me in one of the outfits and knows I have this idea in mind.”
James’ hand subtly jerked – and this time, he finally looked up, green eyes clashing with hers and questioning what she was doing.
Isabelle met his gaze, remembering exactly how he’d looked at her when she’d worn Samantha’s creation for the secret collection. It had been full of lust, full of arousal, all for her.
Then she remembered his kiss – that stolen moment in his car, more passionate than she’d expected and drowning her in its heat and intimacy.
Then, of course, the week that followed at work – where he pretended she didn’t exist and cut off their hourly afternoon sessions altogether.
It was like she did something wrong, which she absolutely loathed, because as far as she remembered, he was the one who’d kissed her. But then again, maybe he was acting that way because the kiss meant absolutely nothing to him, and he didn’t want to lead her on by being more friendly than necessary.
All these thoughts whirled in her mind in the span of a few seconds, and she realized there was no point in holding a grudge. With an inward sigh, Isabelle let go of his gaze and met her father’s, giving him a pleasant grin.
“I was planning for it to be a quirky thing, really, completely different from my first piece to give readers a different perspective. What do you think?”
Her father gave her an approving look, then turned to James. “Depends on the in-charge here. I’ll be leaving again shortly and he’s really the one who can give you permission for now.”
There was silence on James’ end. Then, finally, he nodded his head.
“She’s a talented writer. Let’s go for it.”
They toasted the upcoming article, and Isabelle pretended his words of praise didn’t matter.
*******
Her father invited them to hang out after dinner, and Isabelle declined as gracefully as possible with the joke that she had plans to hang out with her own crowd and would let the oldies do their thing.
Isaac took this in stride with a chuckle, while James gave her a long look that made her insides turn. Then he nodded his head, asking if she wanted a ride.
“I can handle myself,” was all she said before she left first and hailed the first cab she saw.
Inside the cab, Isabelle finally let out the breath she was holding. Then she thought it over, and decided to call Samantha.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” she said. “You up for some drinks?”
Her voice must have sounded so upset, because Samantha didn’t speak for a few meaningful seconds. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…yeah.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
Isabelle sighed. “Let’s just say I’ve had better days.”
“What happened?”
“I got rejected.”
“Since I know you haven’t even had your interview yet, I’m going to assume this is about some boy.”
Some boy. Ha. “Yeah. You could call it that.”
Not that James would ever be called a boy.
He was a man through and through.
An indignant scoff came from the other line. “Well, whoever that boy is, he’s totally just lost the best woman to ever cross his path. Now, come on. I know just the place to get you cheered up again.”
Samantha hung up after telling her to give the cab driver directions to the chic new bar she had in mind. Once that was done, Isabelle settled in the back seat and tried not to remember James’ kiss and subsequent rejection. She may be hurt about it, but she was old enough to handle it.
It was time she let a good distraction take the reins and let her have some fun.
*******
An hour later and halfway through their drinking session, Samantha confessed to Isabelle that she was having some boy problems too. Apparently, she just found out the guy she’d been dating for a few months now
had a fiancé, and was only using her for some fun on the side.
Outraged at this, Isabelle encouraged Samantha and told her she was better off, and they ate their hearts out and continued drinking as the night went on.
Two hours later, the drinks flew by the dozen and they danced to the groove of the bar beat, attracting a few guys and declining them with the cheerfulness of two women who were having the best night ever.
Three hours later, Samantha went to the restroom and Isabelle was very, very sleepy.
Shit.
She took out her phone and yawned, blearily dialling the first number that came to mind.
“Hello?”
“Hello, James.”
“…Isabelle?”
“You – you – are – an asshooooole!”
She hung up the phone.
Then she grinned to herself and proceeded to wait for Samantha in earnest, absolutely delighted and prepared to drink some more.
Chapter 6
James spotted Samantha first, lounging around in the almost-empty bar and listlessly eating some french fries. She saw him approach, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him before she scrunched her forehead in concentration.
Then, dawning realization.
He saw her mouth, an oh shit, before she was frantically looking around the bar, then turning back to him with a bright, drunken smile.
“Mr. Lucas! What a lovely surprise!”
“Where’s Isabelle?” he asked without preamble.
Samantha opened her mouth, obviously attempting to stall. Then a familiar voice from behind James interrupted her.
“You. Asshole. Aaaasss.”
The words were followed by a giggle as Isabelle passed by him and sat beside Samantha, leaning her head on the other woman’s shoulder. It was clear just by looking at them that they’d had drinks – and a lot of them, it seemed.
The bartender, a man in his late twenties, gave James a level look while he gathered used glasses on the main bar. “You friends with them?”
James nodded his head.
“Good. Better take them home, I guess. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to two pretty ladies.”