Page 20 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
My heart pounds louder than my head when Isaac strolls into the room wearing nothing but a small white towel. My eyes open wide as memories of last night come filtering back in. Him pulling me into the manager’s office. Me sucking on his thumb like it was my last meal. My eyes pleading with him to take me on the very desk we were standing next to. Just one look into his entrancing gray eyes had me throwing caution to the wind.
I remember Brandon’s disappointment when I said I had to go. I made a pathetic excuse about being sick in the bathroom stall and that I was too embarrassed to stay. Harlow offered to drive me home, but she had been drinking just as much as me, so I asked Brandon to call her a taxi.
My stomach swirled as I walked toward the exit of the club, but it wasn’t from nerves—it was in excitement. Isaac was standing at the entrance door. His lips crimped when he spotted me sauntering toward him. It was raining, so his bodyguard sheltered us with an umbrella as we hopped into the back of a waiting BMW 4WD.
“Hugo.”
That was what Isaac called his driver when he instructed him to lose the tail.Lose the tail.Does Isaac know we are following him?Oh shit, did the surveillance team capture me with him last night?
My panicked eyes dart to Isaac, who is watching me curiously. I try to keep my eyes secured on his, but the urge to run them over his body is too strong. In nearly every photo I’ve scanned of him in the FBI database, he’s wearing a suit. Although there’s been the occasional photo of him in gym shorts and a shirt from when he goes jogging, I’ve never seen him like this, so up close and personal. His body is perfect.
When my eyes return to his face, I realize I’m not the only one assessing desirable assets. Isaac’s heavy-hooded gaze has lowered to my chest, his gaze so molten it activates every one of my hot buttons.Spurred on by confusion, I yank up the comforter to cover my thrusting chest. Amused by my attempt at modesty, Isaac chuckles a deep, throaty laugh.
“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be shy, Isabelle?”
He paces to the corner of the room.Although I’m petrified I’ve thrown my career down the toilet from sleeping with this man, my body still shudders from my name rolling off his tongue.Once he reaches the side of the room, he presses his palm on the white wall. My interest piques when a secret door pops out two seconds later. I’m so intrigued. If I weren’t half-naked, I’d love to discover what’s hiding in that secret room.
Plastic ruffling filters into the room when Isaac walks out with a dry-cleaning bag in one hand and a pair of polished black shoes in the other. I sigh. I was anticipating something more extravagant than a hidden wardrobe.
An improper gasp escapes my lips when he commences dressing in front of me. Against the screamed demands on my inner vixen, I dart my eyes away, only glancing back for the occasional peek.
Holy fuck.
I don’t usually swear, but there are no other words to describe Isaac’s, umm,well-endowedpackage.When he catches me staring at his junk, he winks. Slapping my hand over my mortified face, I turn my eyes to the wall, embarrassed he busted me ogling him like a virgin who’s never seen a penis before. I’ve seen them before—plenty of them.
Well, not plenty, but I’m definitely not a virgin. I just haven’t seen any penises quite as handsome as his.
Can you call a penis handsome?
“No, you can’t,” Isaac says with a hint of amusement in his tone.
My mortified eyes dart back to his. I really need to learn to stop babbling out loud. He finalizes doing up the last button on his light blue business shirt before he strides over and sits on the bed near me.
“I have a meeting I must attend this morning. Your dress was sent to the dry cleaners, but there are spare clothes your size in the wardrobe.” He gestures his hand to the hidden robe.
I cringe.I hope the clothes are cleaner than the panties I found in the drawer earlier.
“They’ve never been worn. Catherine purchased them specifically for you this morning.”
I freeze.Can he read my thoughts?
When he tilts closer to me, my sex tingles. I really wish I hadn’t drunk so much yesterday. Not just so I could remember what happened, but so I could recall what his kisses taste like. Then I wouldn’t need to spend hours every day fantasizing about them.
“Stop looking so worried, Isabelle.” His minty breath settles the swirling in my stomach. “You wouldn’t have any doubts if I’d fucked you, no matter how many drinks you had.”
My eyebrows scrunch as my eyes bounce between his. “We didn’t have…” My words trail off, unable to articulate the word ‘sex.’
“No, we didn’t.”
“Why?”
Does he not find me attractive? Am I not his type?My eyes turn up to the mirror above the bed. Even though my hair is a mess, and I have mascara smeared under my eyes, I’m still half-presentable. I’m not a complete wreck.
“I like my women… not comatose,” he responds with a growl.
I gulp when he licks the tip of his thumb before he rubs it under my eyes, removing the smears of mascara plastered there. Once the mess is cleared away, his gray eyes lift to mine.“You passed out within ten minutes of sitting in the back of my car.” He seems angry at my lack of control while drinking.
“I generally handle my liquor a lot better than I did last night, but I was drinking on an empty stomach.”
