Chapter Ten
A fter playing chaperone to a billionaire for the past few days, it had been great when the guy had finished his business dealings unexpectedly early. Once his meeting concluded, Daddy Cowchips would be in the hands of his own security team and off to his bazillion-acre ranch an hour south of Dallas.
But before Cowchips left the building, Sinjin had been hit with a feeling that something was off.
Wedged between a steel beam and concrete above it, he had immediately taken stock of his surroundings, re-examining the exit to the underground parking lot that Mac and Carter were set to escort their target through. The billionaire’s security team waited with a limo near that door, and Hunter had been in a similar position as him on the other side of the limo, covering a different vantage point.
The job had gone off without a hitch, but the feeling had never left Sinjin. On the drive back to Harland, he still had that nagging feeling in his gut, and his mind drifted to Isla.
Since nothing had gone wrong with the mission, then it had to be her.
He’d yanked his phone from his pocket, ignoring Hunter’s raised brow, and sent a text to Isla even though he knew she’d still be at the hospital. He’d tried again when he knew she normally got out of work and he’d even called, but never received a response.
By the time Mac had pulled into the ESI garage, Sinjin’s gut was twisted into a pretzel knot. Before the SUV even came to a complete stop, he’d jumped from the vehicle, calling over his shoulder that he’d take care of his gear in the morning.
In less than a minute, racing around the back of the building, through his yard, and straight to hers, he’d made it to her door, only to find she wasn’t home.
The urge to break in had been strong, but after glancing through several windows, finding nothing out of place except Loki barking at him from the other side, he’d fished a notepad and pen from one of the pockets in his black cargos to write a quick note. Once he’d finished, he stuck it through a twig on a sunflower wreath hanging on her door and walked home.
He’d tried calling her again.
That was ten minutes ago.
A knock sounded at his door.
With his chest squeezed tightly for reasons he didn’t bother to dissect, Sinjin opened the door to find Isla standing there in a long, sun-colored dress with no straps, staring up at him through watery eyes.
“Isla? Are you okay?” he asked, as relief and concern mixed to sucker punch his knotted gut.
She shook her head. “Yes,” she replied in contradiction, the tears filling her eyes and spilling freely down her face.
Aw, hell.
The tightness in his chest increased until it cracked something open deep inside.
“Come here.” He pulled her close and shut the door. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She answered by dropping her purse, sliding her arms around him and squeezing him tightly.
Unsure how to help when he didn’t know what was wrong, he held her close, whispering words of encouragement and kissing the top of her head while she silently cried.
“I’m sorry. I’m being silly.” She sniffed, drawing back just enough to meet his gaze. “It’s just I was working the ICU today and we had a Code Blue. Mr. Briganti had a GSW to the stomach and surgery last night. I did what I could and what I was told, and everyone worked hard but we lost him. He clutched at me and a few minutes later…he died,” she babbled, rubbing her arm.
He kissed her head again then gently grasped her wrist so he could inspect her arm. Bruising in the shape of fingers circled her forearm. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed her skin.
“It’s not silly,” he assured gently. “I’m really sorry, Isla.”
“Yeah, it is. This is going to happen every day, multiple times. I was able to compartmentalize it until I got home.” She inhaled and met his gaze again. “Then I saw your note and I just needed to see you.”
He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “I had this strange feeling all day. I texted you and called, but when I didn’t get a response…” He halted, refusing to give those dark thoughts any more life.
A frown creased her brow. “You did? I’m sorry. I haven’t looked at my phone since before the Code Blue announcement. I just never thought to look. Guess I was preoccupied with trying to keep busy then I met the girls at Texas Pub and we were celebrating Emily’s ranch purchase, but I just wasn’t feeling good, you know?” she asked, then continued without waiting for his reply, “But on my walk home, I was barely able to keep it together. I’m glad you’re back.”
She set her cheek against his chest and squeezed him tight again.
After a few minutes, her second round of tears subsided and her hold on him suddenly changed. Hands that had been gripping him now ran down his torso, and before he realized it, she had his shirt pushed up and her lips on his skin.
His abs quivered under her touch. Yeah , his eyes drifted close, he missed this .
No , he gave himself a mental shake and opened his eyes.
“Isla?” He gently grasped her upper arms and drew her away. “Wait. Are you sure about this? It’s probably not the right time.”
A wicked grin curved her lips and heat darkened her blue eyes. “Trust me, I am, and it’s the perfect time.”
Before he could react, she stepped out of his embrace, slid her thumbs beneath the top of her strapless dress, and pushed it down her body until the yellow material dropped to the floor.
Damn, that was hot...
He swallowed audibly. The gorgeous woman was braless, with the tiniest scrap of white silk keeping her from being naked.
He was screwed.
Then she pushed his shirt up again and pressed her soft, hot curves into him. Christ, she felt good. Sinjin clenched his fist. He was having a difficult time remaining unaffected.
“Isla?”
“Hmm?” she asked, her mouth busy spreading kisses across his chest, driving him out of his mind. Then she licked his nipple.
Uttering a curse, he jerked back. “Isla, wait.”
When she continued the sweet torture, he twisted them around, manacling her hands above her head and pressing her against the door.
“Mmm…I like how you think,” she said, her body trembling, chest heaving.
His groin tightened with a painful throb. “Isla,” he said again, his voice as strained as his zipper. “We need to talk. You experienced something traumatic. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
The sadness returned to dull her eyes. “I know I did. I understand that, but honestly, Sinjin, if ever I needed some stress relief, it’s now. I promise, I’m aware of all this, so you’re not taking advantage of me. In fact, it’s more like I’m taking advantage of you,” she murmured, her lips brushing his skin while she tugged her hands free and used them to skim his chest and stroke his abs. “I don’t want to think tonight, and you’re really good at helping me with that. Take me to my happy place, Sinjin. Please. Take me to my happy place.”
Her sweet touch, her pleading, and the need in her voice, along with a soft, curvy body, pressing into him, elicited an answering need that heated Sinjin from head to toe and throbbed through his groin.
His mind already had several ideas on what he could do to her to take her out of herself, but she wasn’t just a warm body…a means of release. No, Isla was something else entirely. She was special, and the way his chest had tightened when he couldn’t get hold of her on his way back to Harland County had proved it.
He caught her chin with his index finger and thumb and studied her gaze. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as you are locked and loaded.” A wicked grin curved her lips as she slid her fingers down to trace his erection through his cargos.
Her assurance was all he needed to hear.
In a swift move, he pressed her against the door and when she gasped, he captured her open mouth and kissed her over and over, giving, demanding, until she was the one to break for air.
The taste of sangria was sweet on her lips, so he went in for a second round before he spread openmouthed kisses down her throat, lingering at the curve of her neck until she moaned and trembled against him.
Heat flooded his veins, loving her responses, needing more.
He cupped each breast and brushed her gorgeous, unhindered peaks until she squirmed.
“Sinjin…”
With no encouragement necessary, he teased a nipple with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. She grabbed his head and arched forward, shoving more of her glorious breast into his mouth.
His arousal pulsed, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Rolling her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, he slid a hand down her heated body, so he could slip a finger under the tiny strip of silk. Damn. The material was wet.
Her moan echoed between them.
Addicted to the sounds she made, he switched to her other nipple, and as he swirled his tongue around her peak, he slipped his finger inside her wet folds. She inhaled and gripped his shoulders, and he welcomed the feel of her nails scraping his skin.
He released her breast, pulled out of her warmth, and watched as she opened her eyes and blinked.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She instantly nodded. “Yes.”
Her answer and the fact she hadn’t hesitated was nearly enough to set him off.
“Hold out your hands,” he ordered, his voice sounding rough with the need flowing through him. “Put your wrists together.”
When she did, he swiped her dress off the floor and loosely wrapped it around her wrists. He glanced at her face and knew if he saw even a flash of anxiety or fear, he’d immediately release her. But it was excitement and heat that burned in her gaze.
His arousal throbbed, threatening the integrity of his zipper.
He cupped her face and kissed her, drinking in her sighs, tasting her need as her tongue brushed his in a frantic tango.
Yeah, she was ready. He was about to take her to a special happy place.