Page 47 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
His rough tone vibrates through my soaked sex, impelling a throaty moan to spill from my lips.
“Because once I’m done with you, you’ll no longer have the ability to walk straight.”
I gulp, knowing without a doubt what he says is fact, not fiction. He barely touched me, and my orgasm was teetering on the brink, dying to break free.
Winking at the lust creeping across my cheeks, Isaac yanks his cell phone out of his pocket. “Hugo, I need you to wipe the images off the camera in the manager’s office at 57 for the last hour.”
His mouth seductively crimps. “Thanks, Hugo.”
Disconnecting his call, he places his cell phone into his pocket along with my shredded white lace panties.
Not speaking, he disappears into the bathroom, only to return five seconds later with a washcloth. My clit throbs when he places the washcloth between my legs to clean me in a nurturing manner. The rough and abrupt Isaac from when we first arrived at the club is no longer in existence, replaced with an attentive and gentle lover.
With an impish grin on his face, he ties my dress back into place. I eye him curiously, studying him in silence for further information.
“Hugo turned the cameras off the instant he knew you were coming to the club with me,” Isaac tells me, his smirk enlarging to a full-toothed grin. “At times, it’s like he knows me better than I know myself.”
My lips curve into a grateful smile.The elusive Mr. Hugo is growing on me.
Once I’m respectably dressed, sans underwear, Isaac clasps my hand within his and walks us out of the manager’s office. Blaring music booms into my eardrums the instant we step out the door. The smell of sweat and sex lingers in my nostrils from the mass of bodies dancing under the warm, strobing lights.
Ignoring the shocked stares of the patrons in his club, Isaac weaves us through the densely populated dance floor. When the crowd sees Isaac coming, they part, giving us an unobstructed path to the front door of the club.
The cold night air is refreshing to my sweat-slicked face and neck when we merge onto the sidewalk. My thighs are still quivering, and I’m exhausted, but my excitement on what’s about to come enhances my eagerness.
Isaac’s grip on my hand tightens so much I wince in pain when a heavy, profound voice says, “The prodigal son returns.”
“Get in the car, Isabelle.” Isaac releases my hand, spinning on his heels.
Ignoring his demand, I pivot around and come face to face with the non-stoic face of Col Petretti, suspected mob boss and the number twelve man on the FBI wish list.
Shit!
To Col’s right is the man FBI believes to be his top henchman. He has been with Col for longer than I’ve been born, yet he still remains nameless. The FBI simply calls him Col’s right-hand man. To Col’s left is his youngest son, Dimitri. He does not yet have an FBI file, but they believe he’s being groomed by Col to take over the family business.
Isaac glares at Col furiously, the twitching of his jaw so profound I can almost hear it ticking.
“What has it been… six years? And I don’t even get a greeting from you.” Col’s words drip with sarcasm.
Isaac remains quiet with his fists clenched. The veins in his neck are protruding so far, they look like they’re about to burst. When Col’s depraved gaze assesses my body, my skin crawls.
Noticing the direction of Col’s gaze, Isaac pulls me in close to his side. When Col sees Isaac’s protecting gesture, he inhales a large, undignified whiff through his nostrils, mocking Isaac, pretending he can smell his fear.
Isaac’s angry eyes glare at Dimitri. When Dimitri’s gaze drops to his polished black shoes, Isaac sniffs back. Col follows Isaac’s gaze to Dimitri, his jaw ticking and nostrils flaring when he notices Dimitri’s passive stance.
“Go!” Col’s loud voice rumbles through the bustling side street.
Dimitri’s eyes lift from the ground and shoot to his father. He appears to be considering a response. I wait with bated breath. From what I’ve read in Col’s file if Dimitri denies his father’s command, his punishment will be severe, favorite son or not. I expel the breath caught in my throat when Dimitri does as commanded and walks away from our group.
The sting of Isaac’s fingers on my hip firms when Col steps toward us, stopping in front of me. His eyes scan my flustered, post-orgasmic face.
“You’re exquisite.” Col’s evil eyes stare into mine. “You have the face of an angel,” he whispers. “E voi diventerete uno.”
When Col raises his hand to my face, Isaac snatches his wrist. His grip is so firm, even the massive set of wrinkles in Col’s face can’t hide his grimace.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Isaac snarls, his tone clipped and unnerving.
My heart skips a beat when Col’s right-hand man moves closer to our gathering. He adjusts his suit jacket to expose he’s carrying two semi-automatic Glocks on his waist.
