In answer, I moan, and lift my chest wanting more of what he’s doing. He slips the straps down my arms, making me captive, and pulls a nipple free. He teases it with his tongue until it grows hard. Pinching one, his clever mouth latches onto the other.
With each touch, zings shoot to my core and my desire spikes.
I try to wriggle out from my shirt and bra making him chuckle into my chest. Stopping what he’s doing, he reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra. It stays between us as we kiss again, heat still rising.
I take a breath, unbutton my cuffs, and get naked from the waist up.
His voice goes low as he unbuttons my slacks and slips them off my legs. “You feel so damn good. Stand up for me. Let me see this.”
With his hands on my thighs, I twirl in front of him as his breath hisses. A finger slips under the top of one of my silk stockings. “You’re so fucking hot, I don’t know where to start.”
Note to self, Izzy. Get rid of the plain white undies.
He tugs me to sitting on the edge of the bed, kneels between my legs and spreads me wide. Breathing hard, his thumbs on my inner thigh, he leans in. First, his breath warms me. Next, he licks up my inner thigh with a finger tempting my entrance. His tongue slides aside the tiny thong and along my clit.
I move my grip from the bedspread to grab his hair and pull him up so he’ll stop the torture and just fuck my insatiable need.
He laughs and tucks my fingers under my butt. “Uh uh. Not so fast. I got work to do here.”
He presses his tongue flat against my nub creating a pressure that makes all my juices flow and when he sucks, I arch into a backbend.
I try to pull him up to my mouth, to make his cock find my entrance but he grabs my wrists. In retribution, I use the side of my foot to rub his cock, straining under his tux.
“Izzy.” He abandons my dripping pussy, kicks off his slacks, and kisses up to my navel while I wrap my hand around his length, my thumb on the wet, silky tip.
We stay there, making each other crazy, bringing the heat too high. Then, we both dive for each other’s lips, clunking our teeth in the process, and laugh. I go on top and straddle him so as to unbutton his dress shirt but it gets stuck at the sleeves. I have no idea how much those cufflinks cost as they fly across the room.
Finally, we are chest to chest, heart to beating heart, his cock between my thighs. With my mouth on his neck, I mark him and he moans.
His palms ride up and down my back as if he can’t get enough of me. I get that because I’m doing the same to his chest. Each time I hit an erogenous point, he shudders.
Any more foreplay and I’ll go freakin’ ballistic. “Gray, love, I’m going to come hard.”
“You sure?” He reaches down, nudges me with his finger, and I go higher, still. “Can’t you give a little more? Spread your legs wide and let me see.”
When I do as he says, he scoots down to watch, His breathing gets real heavy-like and the centers of his eyes turn almost completely black. “Shit, Isabella, this is hot.”
“I, ah, I ah…” No coherent thought comes as I pant and wait for his next move. Surely, his next touch will bring me into pure nirvana.
He places the tip of his cock to my wet, swollen nub, and slides up and down the length of my clit while I try to take him in.
Thank God, he enters and when he stretches me real slow, I shudder and moan.
“No, Gray. Harder.”
Sweat pours off his forehead, our bodies are slick, and I may just go mad at his pace.
Every time I buck, he stops just short of my need and I whimper, “What’re you doing to me?”
“Making you want me like I want you all the time.”
“I do, hun, I do. I swear it.”
Groaning, he sinks his full length deep into my core and presses against my nub that’s on the precipice of the biggest orgasm, ever. He takes his hand between us and ups the pace, my yearning off the charts.
“Oh shit, Gray!” Stars explode, canons go off, and I burst into a million pieces.
Quickly twisting me onto my hands and knees, he holds my thighs, shouts, and thrusts.
I’m shaking like mad but he holds on, his cock getting fuller which each move. Suddenly, he grows real tight, convulses, and spurts his juices.
Completely spent, he rolls onto his back with me still connected on top.
We just lay there in this kind of heavenly bliss, hearts pounding. My ear is at his chest, his hand cups my breast, and our legs intertwine in a way where I’m not sure where I leave off and he begins.
After that, we sleep, make love, and sleep again.
Much later, Slate’s voice wakes us through the intercom, “Get dressed and buckle up. We’ll be landing soon.”
Chapter 12
Grayson
When we land in Minnesota, I feel like a new man. Maybe, I was a bit reluctant to share but now I wonder what took me so long. Sex with Isabella has reached such a depth, I’m still a bit stunned.
I let Slate deal with the jet while I put my wool jacket over Isabella’s shoulders. She’s wearing one my spare white shirts with a belt wrapped around twice. The coat-check girl’s tight black pants complete the outfit along with sneakers.
In the small concourse of the airport, an older version of Isabella steps forward with arms wide, “You didn’t tell me you were bringing company.”
She gives Izzy a big hug while eyeing me, a bit suspiciously.
“Mom, this is my fiancé, Grayson Patten.” Izzy blushes a beautiful shade of red and I know she’s still thinking of us in the king-sized bed.
She flashes her mom the engagement ring and the gray-haired woman’s hands go to her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears. “How wonderful! Isabella, why didn’t you tell me?”
I step forward and shake her hand, “It’s my fault, Ms. Harte. I wanted to fly her here to tell you in person.”
“Please, call me Eleanor.” She lets go of my hand, surprises me with a bear hug, and I awkwardly pat her back while Isabella laughs at my lack of hugging skills.
Slate steps up from behind me, shakes with Isabella’s mom, and deftly steps back to avoid a mandatory embrace. “I’m the pilot, Slate Masters.”
Her eyes go wide, “Well, that explains why I couldn’t find your flight on the board. I wasn’t even sure you’d be here. C’mon. You must be tired after flying all night long.”
Izzy grabs her Mom’s arm. “I’m starving.”
“You want to have breakfast at the diner?” she asks.
“Ah, no. Can we have pancakes at home? Get everyone together? I got something to tell you all.”
“Everyone?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well. I dunno. I suppose Charles and James can come, after they finish milkin’. Fred and Paul are up north a bit, but I can ask. Frank and Justin just got redeployed, but we can call in their sons. Abe and Ronnie might be able to come. Pretty short notice. What’s this all about? You’re not still crazy-talkin’ about your former boss are you?” She turns to me. “Isabella has always had an over-active ima–”
“I can assure you, Eleanor, the threat is real.”
Then, together, we explain about Xavier. With me at her side, Isabella’s mother finally looks as if she believes her.
“That city slicker thinks he can come to our town and mess with my little girls? You should’a told me sooner. I’ll make sure everyone brings their shotguns. If that jerk tries something, he’ll have one sorry ass full of buckshot.”
It’s clear to me now where Isabella gets that spunky streak.
Her mother’s face gets red to the tops of her cheeks and wrinkles go deep by her frown lines as she punches a number into her cell phone. “Joshua? We got a situation. You stop by the house and bring one or two of your deputies.”
I must look confused because Isabella explains. “My uncle Josh is the sheriff.”
While her mother makes about twenty more calls, I begin to get a bit worried. It sounds as if she’s cal
ling in the whole national guard. “Is she always like this?”
“Only when she’s truly pissed.”
We pile into an ancient Ford truck and soon we’re all sitting down at a kitchen table in a split-level colonial. The gathering is so large that it spills out into the living room, down the stairs, and even outside, onto the twelve-foot deck off the kitchen.
Her uncle Josh has a hard time keeping the peace when Izzy mentions how Xavier took a picture of Stacey outside the Lutheran Church and threatened to kidnap her.
Eleanor makes coffee in a five-gallon urn while another man shouts, “Why, that’s an affront to God Almighty.”
Isabella, scoots her ladderback chair closer to mine so she can speak into my ear, above the din. “That’s Uncle George. He went to divinity school before he decided to buy a bar. I swear he preaches more there than he would from a pulpit. He sure gets more sinners.”
Walking into the living room, I stare with my jaw dropped as more trucks with shotgun racks pull up in front of the house. I wonder, and not for the first time, if it was a good idea to say anything at all to these people. A couple of uncles slap me on the back and another hands me a beer.
I try to picture my family doing the same and have to laugh as I’m called back into the kitchen for pancakes. A stack of six is placed in front of me, heaping with butter, sizzling bacon on the side.
I try to memorize names as Isabella points out each family member. Her uncles look so similar, it’s hard to tell them apart except by the clothes they’re wearing. They have Isabella’s nose, high forehead, and most still have all of their blond hair.
When we’re done eating, she pulls me aside and into the bathroom. “I’m so sorry. I probably should’ve warned you.”
“No, this is perfect. Xavier sure as hell won’t be expecting this.”
An old-fashioned wall-phone rings and everyone jumps. Eleanor answers, then stretches the long cord and passes the handset to Isabella. “I-It’s for you.”
Chapter 13
Isabella
Xavier hisses on the line. “Time to pay the piper.”
“Shush everyone. Listen up.” I squeeze into the middle of the living room and hold up the phone. Four of my uncles sit on the couch, two lean on its arms, one in each of three overstuffed chairs, and two by the roaring fireplace. Wives and cousins listen in from the kitchen or line the narrow staircase up to the bedrooms and down to the basement.
The fire snaps, drawing my attention to the pictures on the mantel which give me strength. My history from infancy to adulthood is on display. Always my family is there.
When everyone quiets down, I hold the handset up in the air. “I did everything you asked, Xavier, you need to leave me and my family alone.”
“You think I’m stupid? Huh? I know that you landed in International Falls. That’s not what I said to do!”
Grayson shakes his head back and forth, watching, as my well-armed family checks their ammunition. I know what he’s thinking. This could get ugly and I probably should try to stop it.
Phone closer to my ear, I say, “Uh, listen. You need to know. My family doesn’t deal well with threats to kids.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His tinny voice carries across the room. “I’m coming for you. Not only me, Isabella, I got friends, dangerous friends. Better you come home with me than wait for them. We had a deal.” He hangs up, the empty line buzzes, and I hand the phone back to my mom.
Then, I turn to Uncle Josh. “Can’t you arrest him for threatening me like that?”
He scratches at his scraggly blond beard. “Officially? No. He has to break the law.”
“Oh, for lands sakes, Josh. Do something.” My mom hugs me and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t worry honey, we got this.”
Josh motions his deputies outside, which I realize for the first time are two of my cousins, Dan and Spencer. I wave as they head out the door.
Uncle Josh says to Gray, “You come with me and point him out at the airport.”
I step forward, “I’m coming, too.”
“Now, Izzy.” Grayson kisses the top of my head which means he’s about to dismiss me and I won’t have it.
Of course, my whole family starts shouting at once, so I put both my index fingers into my mouth and blast out a deafening whistle.
Just as it did when I was a kid, everyone shuts up, making it possible for me to get a word in edgewise. “That man on the phone murdered my best friend, tried to have me killed, and stole millions from my fiancé. I am not staying put.”
My uncle Josh frowns as he places his official sheriff’s hat on his head. “That’s a whole lot of accusations, missy.”
“It’s all true.” Grayson steps up and puts an arm around me,
For the first time, Uncle Josh looks pissed, “Then why haven’t you and your fancy lawyers stepped up to put him away?”
I butt in before Grayson loses his temper. “You have no idea. Xavier is a fucking genius.”
“Mouth, Isabella.” My mom raises her eyebrows like she did when I was a kid.
“Sorry, Mom, but it’s true.”
“Huh…” Uncle Josh thinks for a while, scratching his head, his hat bobbing up and down. “I’m betting this Xavier fella won’t think highly of our International Falls. He probably thinks he can fly in, grab my girl here, and head right back out. And what did he mean by dangerous men?”
Slate, who’s been uncharacteristically silent up to now answers, “We’ve only seen him hire local talent. Best you find out who those might be and where they’re at. Also, we need to find a safe house for the kids.”
Uncle Josh turns to Uncle Fred. “You call Chuck out there at the airport and make sure it takes a bit longer than normal to land. Ronnie, you call the hotels and make sure there’s only one with vacancy. I want to know exactly where Xavier is at every second. I got an FBI friend stationed at the border and will call him in, too.”
Chapter 14
Grayson
“Hell, no. You aren’t stayin’ at a hotel. I got two unused bedrooms, both boys off to college.” I’m not sure which of Isabella’s uncles is speaking but I shake his hand and endure another back-slapping hug.
“Thanks, Uncle?”
“I’m George, the preacher-bartender.” He laughs and nods at the sheriff, sitting at a wooden desk who looks up and waves.
I’m guessing this police station was probably built in the seventies, the furniture even older. It has three scratched but polished desks, wooden file cabinets and old desktop computers. A blue metal door in the back leads to a kitchen, an interrogation area, and holding cells.
Isabella yawns, shakes her head, and shuts down her laptop. “It’s like Xavier disappeared. We waited all day. Where the hell is he?”
“I say he either gave up, landed in a nearby city, or took a flight under an assumed name. Who knows? But your Uncle George is waiting. We should go.” I shake Josh’s hand and we leave him sitting in front of his monitor, face lit by the blue screen.
This is no damn good. As the sheriff so clearly pointed out, the justice system hasn’t exactly been in my favor. Maybe, buckshot in the ass is exactly what Xavier Cross needs to stay clear of Isabella and her family.
We pile into a Chevy van, drive under a blinking light in the center of town, and park on a gravel driveway in front of another split-level home.
I climb out first, hold out my hand, and Isabella takes it. Having her close, her fingers in mine makes my desire flare along with a fierce sense of needing to protect her.
Isabella lifts a brow with a crooked smile. “What’re you thinking?”
“I’m picturing Xavier meeting up with your clan.”
She giggles. “He’ll never know what hit him, literally.”
A pretty gray-haired woman, about fifty, opens the door at the top of the cement steps. “Oh Isabella, you look so much like a big-city girl, I hardly recognized you. Welcome. Come in, come in.” She gives Izzy a big hug then does the same to me.
After a day full of embraces, I’m finally getting the hang of it. I shoot my amused fiancé a wink over her aunt’s shoulder.
“You must be Grayson. I’m Lois. You hungry? Sit down in the kitchen. Sorry, I couldn’t be there earlier. I had to finish up my shift.”
“My aunt’s a neo-natal nurse,” says Isabella, huffing to follow up the stairs.
At the thought of babies, I get this picture of Izzy pregnant and paternal warmth hits me. Until I met her, I never thought about the white picket fences. Now, after being with her large family, I want that and more. I imagine having a dozen boys running around my Manhattan apartment.
No, no. We’ll buy a huge house in Long Island. Get a nanny to help out so Isabella can work, if she wants to. This is how my mind races as I sit in a mustard yellow kitchen with orange Formica counter tops.
“I’m going to stake out the perimeter.” George nods at me and I nod back, wishing I had a weapon. I should’ve asked at the station.
Lois kisses her husband on the cheek and ruffles his hair. “I’ll send out some coffee, hun, in just a moment.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Their eyes meet in the way that couples who’ve been married for years, do. I’m sure much is unsaid and yet communicated in that look.
He leaves by way of a sliding glass door onto a deck, then Lois points to an antique table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Sit, please.” A platter of cheese, assorted crackers, and sliced sausage is slid in our direction. There’s also warm brown bread right out of the oven.
Isabella slices off a thick hunk and gives it to me. “Try some cheese. It’s local. The best.”
Lois blushes as she takes off her coat, revealing her light blue scrubs, patterned with tiny baby things. “Oh, it’s nothing fancy. Not like you’re used to.”
“I’m really sorry to put you out like this.”
These people are way too nice for the likes of Xavier. After meeting all her family, I know I should’ve dealt with my nemesis in New York.
The CEO's Lucky Charm: A Billionaire Novella (Players Book 6) Page 7
