Page 28 of Heart on Ice

“You know nothing about me anymore. Fuck you.” She sneers.

“Anytime, princess, say the word and I’ll fuck you, thoroughly. Seems like you might need it after that colorful story.”

Those dark eyes blink at me a couple of times. “I would rather fuck glass than touch you ever again.” And with that, she turns on her heel and stomps up to the second level where her bedroom is located.

Screw her. Now I’m going to have to do something about this in my pants. Who knew Issy had such a filthy mouth on her? I loved her imagery. Did that really happen to her, or did it happen to someone else? And if so, did she watch? Did it turn her on watching them?

Fuck, now my balls ache.

8

ISABELLE

“Morning,” Pierre sings happily as I walk into the kitchen. I grunt my response as I start making myself a cup of coffee. How the hell does he have so much energy this morning? I had a terrible night’s sleep last night, stupid images of Pierre playing in The Paradise Club kept me up all night.Don’t lie, it was the throbbing between your thighs that did that.I had to call on my battery-operated friend to finish me off. Even though I went to The Paradise Club last night, nothing happened. I was too angry to let go. Then when I got home, he was on me like the damn Spanish inquisition.Does that man ever put on a shirt?I snapped last night in sexual frustration. He pushed and pushed until I Iet him have it. What I thought I was doing was hurting him, but instead it looked like I was turning him on, judging by the large bulge in his pants. Him being turned on shouldn’t have turned me on, but I may have gotten off to the image of him in shorts with his dick sticking out the top last night. This week can’t end soon enough.

“I thought after all your orgasms last night, you would be in a better mood,” he teases.

I flip him off, which makes him laugh. “You have a funny way of thanking me for helping you today. I have better things to do with my time than fly to South Dakota,” I snap.

“You’re right, I am thankful for everything you are doing for me,” he says. I give him a glaring side-eye. He stops in front of me. “I’m serious, Issy, thank you. Me being in your space is a lot to ask. Me being in your business is uncalled for. If you wanted to get railed by two guys last night at a sex club, that has nothing to do with me.” Damn right it doesn’t.

“You’re not supposed to know about that place. Felix could get into a lot of trouble. You need to stop joking about it. I mean it, Pierre, keep your mouth shut about it.”

“Okay. I’ll stop,” he says. I don’t believe him. Because seconds later he is still questioning me about it. “Do you like going there?” he asks after a couple of long moments of silence.

“I thought we weren’t talking about it,” I tell him as I finish off the rest of my coffee.

“I’m curious, that’s all …”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” I say, placing my coffee cup in the sink. “We are going to be late, come on.” I walk out of the kitchen and grab my handbag, he follows.

“How long have you been a member?” he asks.

“Not answering.” I walk down my front stairs.

“Have you always been kinky?”

I suck in a deep breath and try to ignore his large, looming presence which is hard when he blocks out the fricken sun. Ignoring his questions, I jump into the car and greet Kevin warmly, with Pierre following.

“If you ask one more question, I swear I will call TMZ and out you myself,” I warn him.

He shakes his head. “You always blushed when people spoke about sex, and now here you are going to a sex …” I quickly shove my hand over his mouth.

“Shut the hell up would you? Felix could be fined millions of dollars if they find out he told you. I could get into trouble too, and I will not let you take away my happy place. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he mumbles behind my hand. I pull it away and slide my hand along my jeans. Ew. “I have emails I need to work through, so if you don’t mind,” I tell him. Pierre holds up his hands as if to say he’s not stopping me from doing what I need to do. He’s so annoying.

It’s notuntil we are up in the air that Pierre starts talking again, well actually, it’s not until he’s had two glasses of whiskey that loosen him up that he starts talking again.

“Thanks for this. I appreciate it more than you realize,” he says, rubbing his neck. His nervous tell.

“You don’t need to keep thanking me,” I snap at him.

We sit in silence for a couple more minutes until he speaks again. “Issy, can we talk?”

“No. I’m busy.” Ignoring his presence.

He pauses for a bit but continues, “Please, Is. I have enough on my plate without arguing with you every two seconds. I’m exhausted.”

---