Page 124 of Resisting Isaac
I tug his shirt over his head, and he lifts my dress in one motion, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over my head, letting it fall in a pool between us.
I drop to my knees, suddenly desperate to taste my husband.
“Fuck” he groans, voice thick when I lick the underside of him from base to tip. “You trying to ruin me?”
“Maybe.”
I pull him into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks to take him as deeply as possible once, then twice, when his hands lift me upward, then remove my lace bra.
We stumble backward to the edge of the bed, his lips trailing down my neck, reverent and hot, and I swear I’m seconds from coming apart in his hands when a knock comes at the door. Then a second one.
“Elena?” My mother’s worried voice calls out. “Are you decent?”
I freeze. Isaac curses softly under his breath.
“Uh—yes! Just a second!” I call out, scrambling for the blanket and yanking it over both of us as Isaac grabs his shirt and holds it in front of his lap like a makeshift towel.
The door jiggles. I jump up, grab his shirt and pull it on like a robe.
I open the door just a crack.
“I forgot to give you the blessing candles,” she says. “You need them for a strong start.”
“Was already off to a strong start,” Isaac mutters under his breath. He grins, exasperated and turned on, as I accept the candles with a forced smile and a quick thank you.
By the time I turn around, Isaac’s smirking in the bed.
“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” I ask, dropping the candles beside the bed.
“Oh, baby,” he says, eyes trailing over me slowly, dark and full of promise. “You just married a Logan. We don’t believe in letting anything go.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
elena
It’s sort of kind of official.
I am technically married to Isaac Logan.
We have a temporary marriage license that’s good for one hundred and eighty days. There was a ceremony for my family. And we took pictures of both for Ivy and our attorney to present to the heads of the production studio hoping they’ll decide we aren’t in breach of contract and can continue filming.
It’s early in the morning but we’re packed and ready to head back to Montana. Isaac and my father are inside having one last man to man chat about who knows what.
It’s taking them awhile, so I run out to grab the dish of my mother’s I’d brought back to return from our last visit. She takes her handmade casserole dishes very seriously and she’s asked me about it twice already but in all the thrown together wedding chaos, I kept forgetting. Probably because my body and my brain are at war with each other and Isaac Logan and his offspring are rewiring both.
I’m leaning into the truck to grab the casserole dish whenthe distinct sound of tires crunching gravel alerts me to someone pulling into the drive.
Retreating from the truck, I find a black SUV blocking me in. The windows are tinted so dark I can’t see through them. The engine rumbles low and loud, like a warning growl from a rabid animal.
My pulse ticks up when Diego steps out slowly like he’s savoring the drama of his surprise appearance.
He removes his dark sunglasses. Our eyes meet and I refuse to be the first to look away. I knew him when he used to wet the bed. I’m not intimidated by whatever he’s trying to pull.
“Well, well, and here I thought we were done playing hide-and-seek, little mouse.”
His smile makes my skin crawl all over itself.
“What are you doing here?” I fold my arms over my chest, praying Isaac doesn’t come outside and see him here.
