All Tyed Up

by Julia Harlow

  As she revved up to launch into a diatribe, his big hands tightened on her shoulders, and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “One more word about the Delft Blue vase and I’ll send you half a dozen of the damn things Monday morning.”

  At the appalled expression on her face, he chuckled, the sound so enticing it derailed her thoughts. “Now where was I? Oh, yes. I really want to kiss you, but I won’t until you tell me it’s okay. There’s no way I’m ever upsetting you again like I did on Tuesday in my office.” He dropped his voice to a purr and pulled her body against his. His head bent so that his lips almost brushed hers, so close only a feather could fit in between. Her knees felt as wiggly as Silly Putty and on the verge of collapsing. “So, my sweet Isabel, may I kiss you?”

  He called her his sweet Isabel! In her rapture, all she could manage was a half nod.

  “Thank God.” His lips on hers, surprisingly gentle, felt as soft as a butterfly kiss. But when a little groan of pure pleasure escaped her, she felt his tongue urging her lips apart. The sensations from the heat of his body pressing into hers, his arousal obvious against her belly, and the sweet invasion of his tongue in her mouth, tasting of whiskey, had her squeezing her thighs together.

  Her hands were everywhere on a mission of their own, pulling the soft strands of his hair, squeezing his shoulders and biceps, relishing the solid muscles on his chest, and feeling his tight nipples through the fabric of his dress shirt.

  After a deep groan, his breath came in heavy pants as his hands moved down her back, caressing her waist and edging lower.

  “God, you feel so fu . . . I mean, so good, Isabel. Too much more and I’m not going to be able to stop.” His big hands grasped her bottom, and he groaned again, urging her even tighter against his erection.

  This man made her give up any inhibitions. Her hands splayed across his hard chest and drifted down to his abdomen where her fingers rimmed all those taut muscles defined to perfection. Lost in the moment and completely out of character for her normally cautious nature, her hand inched even lower, and she grasped his impressive erection, rubbing him up and down with her palm. The feel of him aroused her even more. Her panties felt wet.

  He shuddered, stilling her hand at his zipper. “Oh, Christ, Isabel, what are you doing to me?”

  Leaning back, he drank her in. His eyes were dark blue orbs of liquid heat as he beheld her. His hand cupped her cheek, and he lowered his head to place a tender kiss on her swollen lips. He lifted his head and struggled to speak in between gasps for air.

  “You have no idea how much I want you. I’m dying to strip you naked, stretch you on that couch, and take you hard and fast. But I won’t do that. This has to be perfect for you, sweetheart. You deserve the very best, and it has to be done right, starting with a romantic evening out with all the bells and whistles.” His sweet smile tore at her heart. He meant this. He desired her, but it was important to him that it signify something more than just sex. If it were possible to effervesce from happiness, she just might.

  But wait. What about her desires? She wanted him now more than anything she’d ever wanted. She felt slippery between her legs and couldn’t wait to see him naked. Needles of disappointment pricked every last bubble of her effervescence. She stared down at the floor while her whole body sagged.

  Ty lifted her chin with his forefinger and traced her plump bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Are you pouting, Isabel? That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Are you disappointed we’re not going to make love now?”

  Embarrassed that he figured this out, she began to yank the pins out of her hair. “These are giving me a headache.”

  Clasping her wrist, he bent to kiss the tip of her nose. “Here, let me.” He proceeded to gently remove each hairpin, and then, like a harpist fluttering his strings before a performance, his fingers were in her hair, smoothing it out and massaging her scalp. She couldn’t help her moan of sheer pleasure.

  “Okay, just one more kiss, Ty, then we’ll say goodnight.” Stretching up, she reached his sensual mouth and covered it with her own. His mouth opened and his tongue thrust in, tasting her. His hands played in the lustrous waves of her hair, and he angled her head for a deeper kiss. Isabel felt the dampness of his skin through his shirt. When her pelvis thrust against him, his tenuous rein fractured as if a cable wire had snapped.

  His strong hands slid down the silky smooth skin of her shoulders, along her arms, his thumbs rubbing over the sides of her breasts to her waist and reaching the hem of her dress. He began to pull her dress up then abruptly stopped when his fingers felt the bare flesh at the top of her stockings.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, Isabel. What are you wearing under there? I have to see this.”

  His breath came in sharp gusts as he stood back, staring at her shapely legs in lace-edged thigh-highs; her dress bunched almost to her hips. “It’s a damn good thing McConnell is only interested in your stepsister; otherwise I’d have to run him out of San Francisco.”

  In one fluid move, he lifted her by the backs of her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips. Isabel felt the full impact of his erection, hot and hard against her most sensitive spot. She threw her head back in sheer, wanton pleasure. As he lowered her to the sofa, a key slid into the lock and the door opened.

  Chapter 6

  The sound of Queenie’s high-pitched yapping finally broke through Isabel’s erotic stupor. She blinked as she caught sight of Ellen and Andrew standing over them. Ty’s body sprawled on top of hers, her legs spread and knees bent in a most compromising position. She nudged Ty, who was kissing and licking his way up her neck to her ear lobe. When he didn’t respond, she shook his shoulder and whispered, “Ty! We’re not alone.”

  He paused mid-nibble on her lobe, breathing warm breath in her ear and causing her to shiver all over. “The dogs don’t care. They know all about this.”

  “It’s not just the dogs!”

  When he turned his head and met the icy blue shards coming from the little blonde glaring down at him, he finally yielded to the inevitable. Before lifting completely off Isabel, Ty gently smoothed down her dress so that she was covered. He stood, took her by the hand, and pulled her up next to him, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. With the back of his other arm, he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

  Isabel reached up to tidy her hair, tucking an errant curl behind one ear. She felt the heat in her face and knew she had to be three shades of crimson, at least. Trying for nonchalant, she asked in a voice that came out a little too high-pitched, “So, how was the rest of your evening?”

  The prickly silence that followed and the scowl on Ellen’s face were not good signs. Isabel directed her next remark to Andrew. His dark-eyed, agog expression could only be described as aroused at the erotic scene he’d just witnessed. Well, they must’ve looked pretty darn hot locked together on that sofa.

  Isabel cleared her throat before asking, “So, Andrew, did you stay at the Civic Center or go for drinks somewhere?”

  His grin spread, probably because he noticed the obvious change of direction in the conversation, and then he answered, “We stayed for an hour or so then went to Tony’s for drinks with some people from the firm.”

  Ty bent to kiss Isabel’s cheek, whispering in her ear, his warm breath sending goose bumps skittering down her neck and arms. “Walk outside with me, will you?” Unlike her, he didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. He moved her toward the door, arm still clasped around her waist, and called over his shoulder, “Goodnight Ellen. Andrew.”

  Andrew left shortly after that, and when Isabel returned from saying goodnight to Ty, she faced a glowering Ellen, whose hands were firmly planted on what passed for hips.

  “What in holy hell do you think you’re doing, Isabel?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t pull that crap with me! You know exactly what I’m talking about: Mr. Hotter-Than-Shit and Miss Conservative-Goody-Goody one tick from sizzlin
g hot monkey sex in the middle of the living room! You just met the man!” Queenie started her ear-piercing yapping again.

  “Calm down, will you? You’re upsetting the dogs. And I didn’t just meet him. He’s the one who bought the Carmel table on Monday. Then I saw him at his office on Tuesday. And we were together at the Civic Center all evening.”

  After a deep breath and an even deeper exhale, Ellen plopped down on the edge of the tree stump. “This is me, Bells. I know you, and you don’t fall for a guy in a few weeks, let alone a few freaking days. I’m only saying this because I’m worried about you rushing into something with a man you know nothing about. I didn’t have a chance to get all the facts from Andrew, but I will soon. I already don’t like him. I don’t trust anyone making those kinds of moves on someone as classy as you.”

  Isabel sat down across from her on the sofa. “Look, Ells, I know you’re only trying to watch out for me, but I’m twenty-five and can look out for myself. Ty has been kind to me and has behaved like a gentleman. Not that I need to explain this to you, but he was about to leave earlier, and I convinced him to stay, and, well, no matter what you think, I was the one who ‘made the moves’ on him, as you so eloquently put it.

  “Now, I’m going to bed. Ty and I already took the dogs out, so you don’t need to.”

  Ellen bolted up. “Hold on, missy. Are you seeing him again?”

  “Yes. We’re going out to dinner sometime this week.”

  After an exaggerated sigh, Ellen kissed Isabel on the cheek then pointed two spread fingers first at her eyes and then at the door where she’d last seen Ty. “Okay, but I’m watching him.”

  ~*~

  The entire drive back to The Admiralty, Ty’s rock-hard cock throbbed. He could still taste Isabel, still feel the sensations of every inch of her luscious body underneath him. He had to have more. Something about the lusty way she’d responded to him drove him wild. He never lost control of himself with women. But Isabel Beachwood tossed his careful self-restraint out the window. Was it because she was so classy, such a proper lady, under all other circumstances, that, when he touched her and she responded, it excited him beyond belief?

  He wondered if she reacted the same way with her other lovers. The vise grip he had on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white at the mere thought of another man touching her.

  He’d have to stroke off in the shower as soon as he got home. The relief would hardly be satisfying and only temporary until he could have her. Not just once. Oh, hell no. In every way possible. In as many places as possible.

  He had to stop thinking about her. He tried to focus on his schedule for the following week. Hectic didn’t begin to describe it: back-to-back meetings, new clients, and tons of work to catch up on. And now he’d discreetly inserted himself into this Baycrest Enterprises deal and had to watch everything he said to keep Isabel from ever finding out.

  First of all, he needed to figure out a way to get her moved into the Triple Five building so she would be near him and he could keep an eye on her. That would mean moving Baycrest’s operations to his building. If not, how could he justify Isabel having an office near him and still being part of Baycrest’s team?

  Would Tuesday be too soon to take her to dinner? And where should he take her? The most exclusive place he could think of. Someplace intimate and very special. As he pulled into the garage underneath his building, he realized his thoughts had turned to her once again. Had he ever in his life been this captivated by a woman?

  ~*~

  On Monday morning, Ellen had gone for an early run with Andrew, leaving Isabel to the relative peacefulness of the loft. After making herself a cappuccino with the fancy new espresso machine Andrew had just bought Ellen, a La Spaziale no less, and inhaling the delectable coffee bean aroma, she took the dogs for a walk. Having done an about-face on the subject of training Ellen’s dog, she clenched her jaw, determined to bring Queenie to heel, no matter what it took. She’d had these out-of-control dog’s antics up to her eyeballs.

  Dressed in an above-the-knee black skirt, cropped denim jacket, and flats, she held her cappuccino in one hand after tying Pilot’s leash around her waist. Her dog needed no guidance, which meant she only had to contend with Queenie. After several firm jerks on the leash to get the dog’s attention when she wandered, Queenie heeled, more or less, until her nose caught the scent of something delectable in the dirt or grass. They started again. Isabel discovered that the dog had above average intelligence but lacked even the most basic training.

  After half an hour or so and satisfied with the progress she’d made on this outing, she and the dogs headed back to the loft. The glorious morning embraced her with cotton ball fluffy clouds in a cerulean sky and temperatures in the upper sixties.

  Ellen’s building had just come into view when Isabel’s cell rang. Her heart started to race at the thought of Ty. He’d said he would call her when they’d parted on Saturday night. But the readout on the screen indicated it was Gloria Parnell. Why would she be calling? Isabel had finished all her assignments up on Friday and said her goodbyes to everyone. That was a painful memory. Somehow it had just felt so wrong.

  “Hi, Gloria.”

  “Oh, Isabel, I’m glad I reached you. Would it be possible for you to stop by this morning? Sometime in the next hour?”

  Isabel juggled the last of her cappuccino to check the time on her phone: only 8:30. “Sure. What’s up?” Had she forgotten to sign some papers before she left?

  “We’ll talk when you get here, okay?”

  Even though she thought it was odd that Gloria wanted to talk after she’d been let go, she replied, “Sure, Gloria. See you in an hour.”

  As she changed into a midnight-blue pencil skirt she paired with a red-and-white-striped boat-neck T-shirt, red leather belt, and heels, Isabel wondered if Gloria had a lead on a job for her. That had been her next order of business for the day—focusing on finding a new job.

  Entering Baycrest Enterprises once again felt weird. She’d resigned herself to it being her last day there when she’d left on Friday. She waved at former co-workers and shrugged at their questioning glances as she passed them on her way to Gloria’s office.

  She rapped twice on the closed door with her knuckles.

  “Come in.” Gloria motioned to the white vinyl-covered chair in front of her Lucite and chrome desk when Isabel closed the door behind her.

  After Isabel had settled in the chair, Gloria regarded her for a moment in silence. Then she smiled, and Isabel let out the breath she’d been holding. Gloria did have a job in mind for her! She’d barely been able to focus on her forty-something former boss with spiky red hair that reminded Isabel of a woodpecker. Gloria’s expressive soft-gray eyes with finely arched brows were her best feature. Today she wore a tropical wool one-button blazer and straight skirt in pale gold. Isabel guessed it might be from Ann Taylor’s new spring line.

  Gloria relaxed back in the chair, clearing her throat. “So, Isabel, I’m sure you’re wondering why I contacted you this morning. I’ll get right to the point. I got a call from Grandin Financial asking to see our personnel files, and now they’ve made an adjustment to the number of Baycrest employees who’ll be included in the Soter.com takeover agreement.

  “I lobbied hard for you during the original negotiations. I can’t say for certain it had anything to do with my recommendation, but I was notified late Friday afternoon that you’re in. I’m thrilled we can continue our amazing collaboration with you on our team as we move forward.”

  Isabel heard the words Gloria spoke, but they didn’t quite register. Was this a dream? Something seemed awry about the whole scenario Gloria had described, but Isabel didn’t know exactly what it was. As if from outside of herself, she heard her voice ask, “Who contacted you from Grandin about me?”

  And there it was: an almost imperceptible hesitation before Gloria answered, “Rob Travers. He headed up the personnel side of the takeover from the very beginning. Honestly, Isabel,
this is hardly the reaction I expected from you. I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

  Isabel smoothed her hand over the top of her hair, trying to sort out her weird reaction to this news. “I am. Truly. I’m just in shock. Everything seemed so final last week. I didn’t think there was any hope for a change.”

  Gloria pushed back her chair and stood. “Let’s go out for coffee, and we’ll get caught up on the details.”

  ~~~

  That evening a group of four from Baycrest Enterprises took Isabel out to celebrate her reinstatement with the team. Logan Chou was there, as well as Quvadus, who worked in release management. She was a five-foot-nine beauty with skin the color of coffee ice cream and close-cropped hair that accentuated the most perfectly shaped head Isabel had ever seen. Scott, a twenty-two-year-old engineer, whose unvarying uniform was jeans and a hoodie, tagged along. Kendall, a Birkenstock-clad lesbian and another designer who’d been at Baycrest a year longer than Isabel rounded out the group. Kendall considered herself a self-appointed guardian and fervent champion of all things pre-tech boom San Francisco. Even as a talented techie, she apparently saw no conflict there whatsoever.

  Logan stuck close to Isabel all evening. He bought her first drink, a glass of Sonoma La Crema, and then surreptitiously kept them coming. But when the barman served her a third glass, she insisted she was buying her own drinks. Logan slung his arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear in a gesture so intimate it bordered on creepy, “C’mon, Isabel. It’s a celebration. Let me show you how happy I am that you’re back with us.”

  She smiled politely but felt awkward for the rest of the evening. Logan downed craft beers at a brisk clip. When he started to rub her back, her skin crawled, and she knew she’d have to be blunt about him backing off. But before she got the chance, her cell rang.

  It was Ty. Finally!

  “Excuse me.” She left the bar area and sought out a quiet spot in the hall beyond the restrooms where the blaring Gnarls Barkley “Crazy” was lowered by several decibels. She answered the call.