Page 9 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
4
Knox
My hands are itching to do more than rest on Isabelle’s shoulder as we sit in a quiet corner outside the main ballroom. A few wait staff have passed by several times with trays filled with glasses of whiskey and flutes of white wine. We haven’t turned them down once. My guess is we’re on our fifthround since we sat here, which leaves me with a lot less interest in being in control than usual. But as I stare into Isabelle’s hazel eyes, as I allow myself to get lost in them, and as I relax and listen to her share what has filled her life since we lost touch, emotions I don’t want to feel expand within my chest. Like regret, shame, and remorse. I want to kick myself. Why did I let ten yearspass?
Oh. Right. I knowwhy.
I’m a selfish, arrogant, thoughtless, heartless fuckingprick.
Instead of listening to her, I should be groveling for her forgiveness. Instead of sitting here like no time has passed and like our history is a clean slate, I should be addressing the issue. But that doesn’t happen. What’s worse is the way my thoughts are straying way outside thefriend zone. Maybe I don’t want my friend back. Maybe I can keep our emotional distance intact, leave our friendship in the past where it belongs, and treat her like I treat most women I want tofuck.
That would be fucking wrong. I know it in my gut, but I still entertain theidea.
“I have a hard time believing you didn’t date much in college, Belle,” I say through the husky raspof inebriation, calling her by the nickname I gave her all those years ago. The nickname only I get to use on her. At least I think that’s still the case. Leaning in close to her, I inhale deeply, eyes pulled shut as I breathe in her sweet, citrusy scent that reminds me of all the time we spent together as kids. Except now, instead of wanting to play punch her arm like I used to, I can’t stop imagininghow amazing she must look under all theseclothes.
“How come? It’s not like I had a bunch of guys chasing me in high school.” Isabelle flips her hair behind one shoulder, exposing the slender lines of her neck and collarbone. I wonder if she knows how fucking sexy she looks when she does that. I’d like to believe that she does, but it’s wishful thinking. Isabelle’s too innocent to flirt.But fuck, my dick doesn’t care whether she means to or not. It’s hard as slate, straining against the zipper of my dress slacks. One part of me, the decent part, is desperately not to cross a line here, but the other part, my beast, it wants to charge across that line and take Belle in the most sinful, viciousway.
“But the reason they stayed away was mostly because of me,remember?”
“You might have a point.” She slides her tongue along her bottom lip. What I wouldn’t give for those lips to be wrapped around my shaft, trailing along my length right this second. It’s so unfamiliar, thinking this way about the girl who knows what I’m all about and still remained friends with me. But I don’t want to stop my brain or these urges from taking us somewhere we probably shouldn’tgo. Not while I gaze down from those lips, along her neck to those slender shoulders that draw my eyes to the pale flesh of her fullcleavage...
“Are you really all that convinced that you scared them off?” she asks, drawing my eyes back to hers. “It’s possible they weren’t that interested, you know. It’s not as though I looked like a supermodel oranything.”
“I’m sure. I reallydid.”
“Like,intentionally?”
“I don’t think so, no… but I can’t imagine any of those guys having the balls to ask you out knowing I was in the picture. Even if I was only a friend. And fuck, I can’t believe you won’t admit how fucking gorgeous you are. Since the second I got to your side tonight, practically every man in here has been lusting after you with their eyes popping outof their heads and their tongue hanging out of their mouths like the dogs that theyare.”
“Hmm.” Isabelle purses her lips, and my dickthrobs.
I want her. And I’m used to taking what I want. Back all those years ago, I might’ve kept my hands to myself, but then again, I saw Isabelle as a kid, and I had so few people who really knew me or had my back that I wouldn’t have dared tojeopardize our friendship. But we don’t really have that closeness anymore. There’s nothing left to risk, and fuck, I’m sick of holding back. Every instinct wants to reach forward, pull her tight against me, and claim every inch of her for tonight. I don’t know or care about tomorrow. If Isabelle was just some random chick I would’ve done that hours ago, but something’s stopping me. The truth is thatif we cross this line,whenwe do, there’s no going back. And I have no fucking doubt in my mind that when that happens, I will breakher.
“There was one guy I was interested in for a while,” Isabelle slurs through her tipsiness. She’s oblivious to the lust and sexual longing that are dripping off of me. “But as it turns out, he was into a different type. Or types, rather. Let me thinkabout how to putit…”
“He was a male slut?” I offer, pretty sure she’s referring to me. Because I was and still am. “I can imagine, with an interest in other ‘types’ as you put it, he’d have to be chasing tail solely for a quickfuck.”
“Something like that.” As Isabelle laughs, I’m sure she’s still as much of a good girl as she clearly was back then. That’s a relief. She has so muchmore to offer than just warming someone’s bed for a couple of hours. But the problem is exactly that. She’s a good girl. Which makes my idea of what I’d like to have happen next feel that much worse. I shouldn’t be thinking of my friend like this. I should be protecting her from someone like me. The truth is I’m not the guy for Isabelle. Settling down and cozying up to one woman isn’t the lifeI’d ever choose willingly. So why should she give a prick like me the time ofday?
“What about you?” Isabelle asks me with some hesitation. “Are you seeing anyonespecial?”
Unfortunately, I can’t give her a reassuring answer. Not unless I lie. “I’m the same guy I was back then.” I shrug. “You know how itis.”
“I didn’t want to assume. Everyone can change.” She smirks and adds,“I figured you’d be married to some society girl by now. I wouldn’t doubt that they’re still coming out of the woodwork to throw themselves at you every chance theyget.”
“That’s possible,” I say with a smile. “But the secret about those girls who think they’re the elite is they’re all batshit crazy. Not my scene. At least, notanymore.”
Isabelle is eerily silent at that, and a thicktension fills the air between us. If there was ever a moment for me to kiss this woman, it’s right fucking now. I don’t deserve anyone like her, but if I don’t take this chance to get to the bottom of all this chemistry between us, I’ll want to kick myself later. Chances are it’ll never come back around. Hell, I may never see her again. The thing is, I have a choice. This chance meeting couldbe a fleeting passing of ships in the night, one where we stop long enough to fuck each other’s brains out just one time and keep sailing on afterward, never to see each other again. It can also turn into something good, a rekindling of our deeply honest and authenticfriendship.
Fuckit.
I leanin.
Living with regret or hesitating, it isn’t like me. I act on impulse. Alwayshave. I have no desire to hold back. This magnetic force drawing me to her is too intense to ignore anyway. Plus Isabelle’s full lips are fucking intoxicating, and I absolutely need to get a taste of them. She’s uncharted territory for me. The anticipation’s too appealing forwords.
Shutting off my brain completely, I let lust and need take over. Isabelle draws in a shaky breath as I closein. Her chest rises and falls as though she knows what’s coming but isn’t too sure what to do about it. At this point, she doesn’t need to do a thing. This part, I can handle all bymyself.
My lips crash into hers and Isabelle stiffens for a second, but soon her shoulders relax and she relaxes into my insistent kiss. Tasting her lips sends an urgent need through me. This won’t end withjust a kiss, or an innocent makeoutsession.
