Haze(49)

My own hand drops to the front of my pants. I adjust my belt. "Did you show a man your lingerie, Isla? Did you let a man see your beautiful body?"

"What would happen to me if I did?" she asks quietly. "You'd punish me, wouldn't you?"

Why the f*ck can't I tell if she's toying with me or not?

"Open your dress." I lower my voice. "Show me what you showed him."

Her delicate fingers make quick work of the sash, undoing the double knot and bow. She holds the dress closed in front of her, the only hint of what's beneath is a sliver of blue lace visible in the middle of her chest.

"Open the dress," I repeat. "Take it off."

"You got my flowers." She pivots on her heel so she's facing my desk. "Do you like them?"

I'm behind her before she can react, my hands inside the front of the dress, skimming across her stomach. "They're black tulips, Isla. You sent me black tulips."

She pushes her body back into mine, grinding her ass against me. "Do you know why I choose those?"

I glide my hand down her smooth stomach to the top of her panties. "They symbolize power and strength."

She nods, her hands moving to cover mine. "You're those things to me. That's how I see you."

"The card," I whisper the words into her ear as I slide my hand over her thigh. "The card took my breath away."

She picks it up, cradling it in her fingers. "I want to be under your touch. Isla."

"Under my touch," I repeat the words back to her, my fingers over the panties now, feeling the heat of her arousal through the lace.

She moans, softly. "I could come from that touch."

"Turn around."

I feel the hesitation in her entire body as she pulls away from my hands and twists around so she's facing me. I stare down at her face. Her makeup is exactly as it was the first day I saw her at the boutique. It's dark, the contours make her look untamed and edgy.

I cup her ass with one hand, the other moves quickly to her back as I pick her up and turn her, moving until she's flat on her back on the leather sofa, her dress open to reveal a light blue bra and panties.

I brace one hand on the back of the sofa, the other next to her shoulder. "I will punish you if you opened this dress to show another man this. Tell me that didn't happen, Isla."

Her lips move faintly before her tongue darts out to moisten them. "You can see my nipples and my *, can't you? The lace is very thin."

My eyes travel slowly over the length of her. Every intimate part of her is visible through the thin, blue lace. There is absolutely nothing left to the imagination. "Tell me who you showed this to and I'll kill him with my bare hands."

She laughs loudly, her hand flying to her mouth to shelter the sound. "You wouldn't kill a man for looking at my body. You're not that intense, Gabriel."

I reach down to cup her chin in my hand. "Keep your clothes on at work, Isla. This is only for me. Understood?"

Her eyes fall to my body. "That's all for me, right? Only me? You're not going to your f*ck pad this week, are you?"

I fall to one knee as I slowly pull her panties down. "There is one woman and one woman only that I intend to spend my time with."

Her ass moves as I lower my mouth to her stomach, tracing a path across the soft flesh with my tongue. A soft moan falls from her lips as I graze my mouth over her cunt.

"You are all that I want, Isla." I breathe in her scent. "This is all that I want."

Her hands grip my hair as I pull open her legs, wrap my lips around her swollen clit and lick and suck her until she comes under my touch.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE


Isla




"That's a beautiful dress, Isla." Cassia stands in the doorway of my room, wearing one of Nigel's t-shirts and his sweatpants. "Do you have a date?"

"I do," I try to quiet the anxiety in my voice. "I'm going to the symphony."

"Your date knows you really well." She laughs. "Nigel knows better than to take me there."

I've never absorbed her disinterest in classical music as anything other than what it actually is. Cassia likes dress pants and blouses. I like dresses and skirts. She likes computers and offices. I like my violin and a place to play it. We're different, very different, but our friendship is what binds us together.

"Can we talk before you go?" She shifts her sock covered feet on the hardwood floors. "It's kind of important."

"Sit." I gesture towards my bed. "Is something wrong? Your folks are okay, right?"

I only ask because her father had a scare with his heart three months ago. He was walking the family dog one night and doubled over in pain. Cassia had been on the first flight back to Chicago and when she finally called to tell me that it had been a minor heart attack that required a change in diet and a simple medical procedure, I'd been relieved.

I don't know my own father. My mother always told me that he was a bastard one night stand so I've loved Cassia's vicariously through her. He sends me text messages sometimes just to see how I am. I treasure those, just as I cherish her entire family.

"They're good. They both send their love for your birthday." She rubs her hand over her eyes. "They'll take you out for dinner the next time they're in New York."