Page 77 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Isaac’s lips twitch, but not a word is spat from his mouth. He returns his eyes to the road, ignoring my question with the skill of a nark. Every second he delays answering me has my anger intensifying. It brews in my gut until I can’t hold it back for a second longer.
Struggling to keep down the contents of my stomach, I clench my teeth together. “Was that your fuck pad?”
Isaac’s eyes snap to mine. Although his livid glare could cut through ice, I don’t back down from my angry stance.
“Was that your fuck pad?” I ask again, my tone sterner this time around.
He works his jaw side to side. “I don’t call it that, but I guess most people would see it that way.”
“How many other women have you slept with in that bed?” I ask before I can stop my words. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I already feel sick enough.”
My reply isn’t a lie. My stomach is rolling, threatening to spill at any moment. I also have an overwhelming desire to take a shower. I’ve never felt as dirty as I do right now.
“Take me home,” I request, fighting my hardest to ignore the moisture welling in my eyes.
“I’m taking you home.”
“No, take me back to my apartment.”
Isaac’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much, his knuckles go pasty white. His jaw muscle quivers as he inhales a large breath through his nostrils.
“No, Isabelle. You’re mine. Which means my home, my bed, my rules.” His tone is as dangerous as my heart rate.
I glower at him, too stunned to form a response. I fought Alex tooth and nail not to become a commodity, but Isaac is making me precisely that. I’m not a possession. Nobody owns me.
“Don’t look at me like that, Isabelle.” Isaac’s tone lowers in warning.
Rolling my eyes, I turn my infuriated gaze to the star-filled night, thankfully blocking him from seeing the tears splashing my cheeks. Anger is burning through my body, but it isn’t potent enough to dry my tears—unfortunately.
Not even a heartbeat later, my hands shoot out to brace the dashboard when Isaac slams his foot onto the brake and yanks his car to the side of the road. After unclasping my seat belt, he drags me across the center console to sit side-straddled on his lap. His nostrils flare with every breath he takes as his remorseful eyes dance between my tear-filled ones.
The pain scorching my veins fades when he cups my face with his hands, so his thumbs can rub away my tears. Not a word spills from his lips, but his eyes beg for forgiveness. His beautiful gray irises are my biggest weakness. They’re the gateway to his soul and the key to unlocking the real Isaac Holt. Although Isaac has a reputation for being cold-hearted and ruthless, his eyes relay an entirely different story. They’re my greatest ally in unearthing the man behind the enigma.
Once my tears have settled, Isaac presses his lips to mine. Even upset, my body melts into his embrace, incapable of denying his affection. His kiss is scrumptious and sweet, and it clears the turmoil swirling in my stomach.
Our heated exchange doesn’t lessen until the windows of his sports car are covered with fog, and the air in the cabin is stifling.
While rubbing my plump lips with his thumb, Isaac’s eyes filter over my face. “I shouldn’t have taken you there, but I needed to be sure you were mine before I fully let you in.”
Tears form in my eyes so fast they sting, but this time, they’re from happiness, not hurt. Isaac is a highly private man, so for him to accept me into his life has my heart enlarging so much it’s close to exploding.
Shocked by my uncommon response, Isaac eyes me curiously. I’m certain I look ridiculous with tears flooding my cheeks while a huge grin spreads across my face, but my response can’t be helped. I’m too happy to hold back my excitement.
Slapping my hands on each side of his cheeks, I place a dramatically sloppy kiss on his stern mouth. I feel him smirk against my lips before he takes our kiss from playful to teasing.
Isaac’s talented mouth soon has me wishing we weren’t in the tight confines of his car. I meet the lashing of his tongue stroke for stroke as my hands slither over the contours of his chest and abdomen.
I’m seconds away from tackling the impressive bump extending in the crotch of his trousers when a brief tap hits his driver’s side window.
“Move along,” A male police officer in a fluorescent yellow vest waves us along.
When Isaac lowers the window of his car, the officer’s stern glare lessens. “Oh, good evening, Mr. Holt. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was your vehicle,” the handsome African American officer apologizes.
“That’s okay, Jimmy, it’s new. I’ve only taken her out a handful of times.” Isaac’s eyes scan my face.
I return his stare, confused by the gleam in his eyes.Is he talking about the car or me?When his cock twitches under my backside, my eyes open wide.He’s talking about me.
“How are Marisha and the kids?”
