12. Isaac
12
ISAAC
I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
God damn. Hannah Jane had that raspy thing going on in her voice that told me she’d been screaming at the top of her lungs while she was out having a good time with her girls.
I would have given my left nut to see her let loose like that. The only time I saw her let go of all that control was when I pinned her down and took charge of her pleasure.
Offering to take care of her carnal needs wasn’t a selfless deal. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since slamming her up against the wall at the Taylor Creek Inn and sampling every inch of her.
I was Hannah drunk and, no matter what I tried, I couldn’t sober up.
This kind of addiction had never plagued me before.
I was a one-and-done kind of guy. I never needed to go back for seconds because, frankly, I didn’t want to.
When Hannah Jane stormed into Luca's house and ripped me a new one for breaking and entering, I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man on the planet .
And then she took me to her house, and I was a goner. She was walking around in the same tight skirt and fuck-me heels she wore all day at the wedding, and it made my blood boil.
What did she wear for girls’ night? Was she just as uptight for a night out, or did she let loose?
I wondered what she’d look like in something skimpy. Those long legs of hers. That perfect heart-shaped ass.
Where did she go for girls’ night? Did they even have clubs in Beaufort? I choked down the idea of Hannah partying in some sleazy, run-down club with minimal security.
I didn’t like the protective instincts it brought out in me. If she went to the kind of clubs I frequented, she’d have every man—single and taken—swarming her like vultures.
The sun peeked over the Manhattan skyline.
I should’ve slept on the flight, but I was too busy looking at reports for the board meeting today. Twelve more hours, and then I was home free for a few days. Though, I was sure Spenser had some event or social commitment lined up for me.
Being successful meant that I had to keep being me. Keep being seen. Keep being Isaac Lawson.
Sure, I garnered a little unsavory press now and then, but that was just who I was. It worked for the company, and who was I to argue about mandatory jet setting and living the high life?
Luca may have been content settling down in Snoozeville, North Carolina, but that was because he secretly detested being in the public eye.
He did what he had to do to build his restaurant group, and not a thing more.
Me? Hell yeah—I was the life of the party. There would be no settling down. No ball and chain. No small-town living.
Just me, my work hard, play hard lifestyle, and hot sex.
Well, hot sex if Hannah agreed to it.
Speaking of …
I grabbed my phone and fired off a text message to my assistant, then one to Hannah.
Isaac
Have a good day, Princess.
She immediately fired back in all of her Hell Yes Ma’am glory, and didn’t disappoint in the least.
Hannah Jane
If we’re going to be enemies with benefits, I’d like to put an emphasis on the “enemies” part of that. Don’t get chummy on me, Lawson.
Isaac
I hope your day is terrible.
Hannah Jane
That’s better.
Isaac
I hope they mess up your coffee and give you decaf.
Hannah Jane
Now that’s just downright cruel.
Isaac
Beggars can’t be choosers.
Hannah Jane
Who said I was begging?
Isaac
A man can dream, can’t he? Besides, I seem to recall you begging for my cock.
Hannah Jane
Don’t you have better things to do, like swim around in a room filled with gold coins? Go polish your monocle.
Isaac
I’m sorry, I believe you have me mistaken for the Monopoly Man .
A stray text chimed in from my assistant, confirming that he had completed the task I asked him to oversee. Good man. I sent a quick thank you and peeled myself from the bed I rarely slept in to get a shower. Fuck, I was tired.
I stepped under the spray and washed away the hours of travel. I pressed my palms against the cool stone walls and shut my eyes as the water poured down my back.
The memory slammed into me like a freight train.
Hannah Jane dropping down to her knees. Her slender fingers sliding up my thighs. That devilish grin on her pink lips. Parting my feet just a step further.
Water streamed between our bodies as we huddled under the shower head. Her tongue darted out and licked the head of my cock.
Tentative. Innocent. Just a taste.
Our post-wedding sexcapades had left us with tired bodies standing on shaking legs. Somehow, my dick was still hard.
Hard for her.
“Don’t do that,” I said sternly, shaking my head.
She looked up at me with doe eyes, tiny droplets of water clinging to her long eyelashes like diamonds. “I want to,” she whispered.
No sass. No snarky comebacks.
I paused, giving her a chance to change her mind. But she didn’t.
Hannah licked the shaft of my cock like it was a damn popsicle. Her tongue swirled around every inch. She parted her lips and took me as far as she could. I pushed into her mouth, testing her. Seeing how far she could take me. She went all in, hollowing her cheeks and teasing the head of my cock with her tongue.
I fisted my cock, pumping hard until I came all over the shower wall. That woman had me on a hair trigger. Just the memory of her got me off.
I quickly scrubbed down and grabbed a towel off the warmer, wrapping it low around my hips as I padded out of the bathroom and grabbed my phone .
Five missed calls from Hannah lit up my screen.
Aha, my guy worked fast.
“Nice to hear from you so soon, dear. You calling to say yes?” I teased, putting the call on speakerphone while I grabbed one of the breakfast smoothies my chef kept stocked in the fridge.
Now I was thinking about Hannah Jane and her damn protein shake.
“What have you done?” she shouted.
“Probably a lot of things. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Shoes, Lawson. Very expensive shoes.”
“And what about these shoes, darling ?” I chuckled before chugging the smoothie.
“Will you cut the crap, Isaac? Why did you send me a pair of shoes, and how the hell did you know my size?”
I walked into the bedroom and pulled a suit out of the closet, tossing my phone on the bed as I got dressed. “Well, if you remember, you told me your shoe size when you were threatening to put your heel up my ass. I figured if you were gonna impale me on one of your stilettos, it should at least be a designer I like.”
I heard her swallow and quiet her voice. There was a faint crinkle of tissue paper over the line—like she was staring into the box, deciding whether she would keep them. “Isaac, these are… I can’t accept them.”
“Why the hell not?” I snapped. “I snooped in your closet, Han. Not like this is your first pair.”
“Yeah, and I found my other Louboutins at a thrift store.” Her voice faded on the last syllable like she was embarrassed at the confession. “I can’t accept these, so please—just tell me how to send them back,” she begged.
“You’re not sending them back. You like the shoes, you keep the shoes. And I know you like the shoes.”
“And if I accept them, I will owe you,” she clipped, steeling her voice. “I will not be indebted to you, and I sure as hell won’t be bribed into sex with nice gifts.”
“This has nothing to do with that,” I growled through clenched teeth, nearly strangling myself as I tied my necktie. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”
“Not without ulterior motives.”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I snapped. “It was a thank you. You know—for letting me crash at your place.”
“It’s what?”
“Look,” I said as I pulled on my watch and toed on my shoes. I grabbed the file of reports to finish looking over on my way to the board meeting. “I know the concept of me doing something nice must blow your mind, but I have a meeting to get to. I don’t exactly have time to argue with you about a damn pair of shoes, Hannah.”
The alert that my driver was waiting for me downstairs chimed, and I hurried toward the door.
“You want the truth?” I shouted into the phone. “I don’t like owing people either. That’s why I wanted to square up and be even after I stayed at your place. And on an unrelated note, all I’ve been able to think about was you standing in that fucking hotel room in nothing but those red-soled heels and your pearl necklace. Is that what you want to hear? That I want to fuck you again to get you out of my system? Because I can’t get you out of my head, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do about it.”
There was a long pause on her end of the line. I knew I was on a time crunch with traffic and my driver would be getting antsy, but I wasn’t leaving the lobby of my building until I closed this deal.
She let out a breath and waited another beat just to make me sweat. “Thank you for the shoes. That was far too generous.”
“Truce?” I asked.
“Truce.” She laughed softly. Was she nervous?
I looked at my watch and knew I was out of time. I hurried to the waiting car on the curb and slid in. My driver, Alice, shut the door and rushed to pull out into the street. Rather than looking at the reports that were calling my name, I pressed the phone to my ear. “I do have to go, but I’ll call you tonight. You know—to talk like in significant others.”
Hannah laughed, “You gonna go hang out with Zuckerberg and Bezos?”
“Nothing that exciting,” I said, chuckling as I fastened my seatbelt.
“I’ll be home around six,” she said. “And I might answer if you happen to call.”
“I hope your day is terrible, Princess.” I smirked as I thumbed through the file folder.
Hannah laughed, and it brought a smile to my face. “I hope your day is terrible too.”
I grinned from ear to ear. “Give ‘em hell, ma’am.”
It had been a day. A long-ass, never-ending day.
I was running on thirty-six hours of power naps and caffeine. But not even the desire to crash in my bed and sleep through the rest of the week could sully my high.
“Going out tonight, Mr. Lawson?” Alice asked as she pulled into traffic and headed toward my penthouse.
“Nah,” I said as I fired off a text to my assistant with my dinner order. “You can head home, Al.”
Alice looked surprised but said nothing. She gave me a curt nod and a polite smile. “Have a good evening then.”
I hurried into the building, giving the doorman a nod as I took long strides toward the elevator.
5:58 P.M.
The apartment door closed behind me. I loosened my tie and found Hannah’s name in my phone as soon as six o’clock rolled around. It took only two rings before her voice filled the line.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s punctual,” Hannah said. “I barely got in the door before my phone went off.”
“Need me to give you a minute?” I asked, toeing my shoes off and beelining for the liquor shelf.
“I’m good,” she said. “Just getting settled for the night. You?”
I snagged a bottle of Blanton’s single barrel bourbon and gave myself a generous pour. Drink in hand, I sat down on the couch and closed my eyes. “Long day.”
“Did you keep your rich people happy?” she teased.
I chuckled and took a sip, enjoying the warmth sliding down my throat. “The rich stay rich, and I stay gainfully employed. How goes the world of happy brides and obnoxious amounts of flowers?”
Hannah giggled and I heard the chime of her microwave. “Be honest, you have no idea what I do.”
“Not really.” I chuckled. “But I’m pretty sure that goes both ways.”
“You’d be correct.”
There was a long, awkward silence, but I didn’t try to fill it. I sipped on my bourbon and pictured her getting home from work. Peeling her shoes off and putting her hair up. Grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and binge-watching something on TV. Knowing Hannah, it’d be The Office.
That’s what normal people did after work, right? They didn’t have to change in the back of a car to look fresh for a night at a club or leave the office and get on a plane for an international flight.
Although, Lake Como was lovely this time of year…
“So…” she said quietly.
I sank down into the couch and closed my eyes. “What are you having for dinner? ”
“Quinoa, chicken, and kale. It’s got some cherry tomatoes and balsamic. You?”
“Not rabbit food, that’s for sure,” I laughed.
Hannah giggled, “Let me guess—you’re a steak and potatoes guy?”
“Hell yes, ma’am.” I could practically see her rolling her eyes and pretending like it annoyed her when I called her that.
She snorted, and it was so fucking cute. “Sorry,” she snickered. “What are you having?”
I grunted something unintelligible as I drained the last drops of liquor from my glass. “My assistant’s picking something up, but I can assure you—it won’t taste as good as your pussy.”
“God, Lawson!” she shrieked in good humor. “Six minutes. You literally lasted six minutes without talking about sex.”
“Well, call the Guinness World Record-keepers. I think I should get a plaque or something.”
“Ass,” she clipped.
“You know, I was thinking about you all day today,” I said honestly, desperately hoping that she would pick up on the contrition in my voice.
“That so?” She was unamused. That, or she didn’t believe me. I didn’t know which was worse. “What were you thinking about?”
And there was my opening. “How much I want to see you again.”
“Isaac,” she sighed. “I don’t want to be your booty call.”
“It wouldn’t be a booty call,” I said quickly. Hannah Jane Hayes was the most hard-headed, impossible woman I had ever met. “I know you think I’m a manwhore. Look, Han?—”
“Spell it out for me,” she blurted out, sounding like a nervous mess. That wasn’t like her at all. She was tenacious and tough as nails. I wanted her feisty. I wanted her kicking ass and taking names, not cowering away.
“What? ”
“Expectations. Schedules. Boundaries.”
“Can I see you? You know, like video chat for a sec?”
There was a long pause before my phone buzzed with the video chat request. I smashed my finger into the screen, desperate to get a glimpse of her.
“Hey,” she said nervously. It looked like she was sitting on her couch, still in her prim and proper work clothes. I wondered if she had tried on the shoes I sent yet.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied, stretching out on the couch to match her posture. I flashed a grin, and she returned the favor. “Looking at you just made my day a hundred times better.”
Her cheeks were painted red. “I thought you said your day was good?”
“It was. And you just made a good day great.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, tucking her short hair behind her ear. “Don’t be sweet on me, Isaac,” she said with a deep southern drawl. It was adorable, and I wanted to keep listening to her talk all damn night.
“I wasn’t being sweet on you. I was just stating a fact. You’re a beautiful woman, Hannah Jane Hayes.”
She closed her eyes and rolled onto her side. My imagination raced with the feeling of her pushed up against me, lying side by side. “Isaac…”
“Can we talk about this?” I asked.
She nodded, trapping her lip between her teeth. I wanted to touch it. Feel how soft and warm her lips were. Kiss them until they were bee-sting swollen.
I took a deep breath and began the spiel I’d been rehearsing ever since the night I spent wide awake under her roof, listening to the wind and rain rage outside. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. Look, I—I don’t do this. I don’t get hung up on a woman. I just need…”
“To fuck me out of your system? ”
I cracked a smile. “Something like that.”
Hannah pursed her lips, biting back her smile. “And I get fantastic sex and no feelings. Right?”
“Win-win,” I reminded her.
“We need rules,” she said quickly. “And a time limit. Not something indefinite. I like labels and boundaries. I like knowing where I stand with people.”
“Eight weeks?” I suggested.
Hannah shook her head. “Too long. How about four?”
“Six,” I countered. “Our schedules might not always match up, so that gives us some extra time.”
“So… We end this the week before Christmas?”
I nodded. “And after, we go our separate ways, parting as unlikely friends.”
She laughed and tossed her head back into a cream-colored throw pillow. “We aren’t friends. Rule number one: no dates. This is just sex. No frills, no hanging out.”
I scraped my thumb back and forth across my lower lip. “Why do I have a feeling you’ve thought about these rules before now?”
“I had to do something. I’m almost into the off-season for events. I’ll be bored as hell once my last few weddings wrap up for the year.”
“Alright,” I groaned, reaching back and propping my head up on my bent arm. “Tell me the rest.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Rule number two: don’t tell anyone. Not Luca, not your staff, not your assistant. This is just between us.”
“Top secret. Got it.”
“Rule three: If at any point, you want to sleep with someone else, or if I meet a guy and want to go home with him, the deal is off. Hard stop. Dates with other people are fine, but sex is exclusive.”
“Are you on birth control?” I asked .
“I have an IUD, but condoms are non-negotiable.”
“Agreed. Anything else?”
Hannah closed her eyes and let out a breathy sigh. “I still don’t get how this is going to work.”
“Have you had feelings for me even once since we hooked up at the hotel?”
“Inn,” she corrected.
I chuckled. “My apologies—since we hooked up at the inn ?”
She huffed, “No, but that’s not it.”
“Then what’s the problem, Princess?”
“People are going to notice if I start leaving Beaufort to meet up with you wherever you are, and you have no business being here. It’ll raise too many flags. Besides, I have a job. It’s not like I can leave at the drop of a hat to come ride your dick.”
I groaned and adjusted the tent in my pants. “You just leave it to me.”
“That’s reassuring,” she mumbled. “You promise there won’t be any feelings? I can’t have you melting into a puddle and falling in love with me. My stilettos aren’t easy to clean. I try to avoid getting them wet.”
I chuckled. “Scouts’ honor. No puddles. No feelings.”
“Like you were ever a Boy Scout,” she muttered.
“So, do we have a deal?” I asked, hopeful in my plan to let her think this was all on her terms.
Hannah opened her eyes and looked straight into the camera like she was staring into my soul. Her brown eyes danced with anticipation. “That’s a hell yes,” she said. The corner of her mouth tugged into a half-cocked smile.
I smirked. “Buckle up, Hell Yes Ma’am. You’re in for a ride.”