2. Isaac
2
ISAAC
I fucking loved weddings. Booze, food, and single women who were jealous of the bride and horny as hell. It was my playground. Not to mention, Luca was like a brother to me. I was happy for him and Maddie. He was my boy, and Maddie was a hell of a lot of fun. They were a match made in heaven.
There were worse ways to spend my Saturday night. Sure, I could have been clubbing anywhere in the world, but the Taylor Creek Inn was swanky. It wasn’t as quaint as it sounded—a boutique hotel on the Carolina coast. They knew how to capitalize on their waterfront location. The business man in me never stopped assessing those things, no matter where I was.
Luca and I went way back. He had worked hard for everything he had and sacrificed a lot. Because of those sacrifices, he almost lost Maddie.
Luckily, I was there to help get those two lovebirds back together. I was basically cupid, minus the bow and arrow and diaper.
Luca called what I did to Celeste Montgomery blackmail , but that was such a negative way to put it. I liked to think of it as a negotiation.
…A negotiation where I had all the leverage, and she had to do as I told her.
I was simply putting my well-honed business tactics to good use.
Besides, there was no better cause than true love and strong drinks. Which reminded me—I owed the bartender another hundred for that stunt he pulled with Hell Yes Ma’am.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a brunette checking the time on her phone. She was a little young for me, but she looked legal. I’d still ask before things went too far. I had almost made it across the dance floor when a vice grip crunched down on my bicep and dragged me into a dark corner.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Hell Yes Ma’am hissed.
“Princess,” I soothed as I regrouped and slid my hand down the small of her back. She stumbled into my chest. “If you wanted a little attention, all you had to do was say so.”
Hannah Jane Hayes grabbed my wandering hand and twisted it back toward my body. She was forceful enough that I thought my wrist would snap. “If you so much as think about flirting with Kristin, I will castrate you. She is off-limits. Are we clear?”
It was too late now anyway. Kristin was sandwiched between Maddie and Luca’s cop buddies, Steve Pelham and Chase Brannan.
“Hell yes, ma’am,” I mocked, reveling in how much she hated that.
She released my hand with a huff and I rubbed my wrist to re-establish the blood flow. Hannah Jane was a little thing but, like dynamite, she was highly temperamental and hazardous to my physical well-being.
She pointed two fingers at her own eyes before pointing them at me. “I’m watching you, Lawson.”
"I bet you are," I teased as I made my way to the bar .
Everyone’s attention turned to the dance floor where Maddie sat on a chair at the center. A song from Magic Mike began to play and Luca flaunted his best stripper moves. Confident that Maddie had been dazzled, he slid down under her wedding dress to slide the garter off. A moment of aggressive gyrating passed. Finally, he emerged victorious with the white lacy thing between his teeth.
The DJ invited all the single men to gather for the garter toss.
Wedding traditions were fucking weird.
I wandered out and stood in the crowd of guys. Luca turned around and played up the crowd before shooting the garter over his shoulder like a lingerie rubber band.
And I caught it.
We cleared off the dance floor while the ladies lined up for Maddie to throw the bouquet. Luca went over and asked the bartender for a glass of water.
“You’re drinking like an old man now that you’re married,” I joked. “What time is it? Like, ten o’clock? And you’re already switching to water?”
He chuckled and took a sip. “Me and Mad are driving to Raleigh tonight. Early flight in the morning.”
“Honeymoon?”
“Europe.” He pointed out the window to the ocean right outside. “She didn’t want the tropical getaway.”
I laughed, tossing my head back. “Be straight with me. It’s about the food, isn’t it?”
Luca grinned. “I packed pants with an elastic waistband.”
“You really are an old fucking man, aren’t you?”
Maddie’s bouquet sailed through the air right to — hell yes, ma’am.
Luca and I laughed at the shock on Hannah’s face. Much to my chagrin and Hannah’s utter dismay, the DJ requested that the man who caught the garter and the woman who caught the bouquet share a dance .
This was going to be fun.
I stepped forward, but Luca grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me back. “No funny business. She’s Maddie’s friend. And mine. Hannah’s not the type of girl you mess around with.”
I made my way to the dance floor, spinning the garter around my finger and giving her my best smolder. One of her friends took the bouquet from her, leaving her without a weapon.
Then again, those fuck-me heels she wore looked like they could do some damage.
“Don’t,” she said, backing away from me. “I’m working right now. I don’t have time for this. I’m going to tell the DJ that Luca and Maddie are ready for their last dance.”
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against my body, smashing her tits against my chest. Her girlfriends cheered when I slid my hand lower to the slight curve of her ass. I took her hand and laid it on top of my shoulder and then held her other hand in mine, forcing her into frame.
“The hotel won't burn to the ground if you dance with me for two minutes,” I clipped.
Her movements were stiff. I couldn't tell if it was nerves or a silent act of defiance.
I glanced at the crowd of faces staring at us. “You’re causing a scene.”
She stomped on my foot.
I grimaced and pulled her flush against me. “What the hell was that?” I hissed as I led her across the dance floor. “You agreed to dance with me.”
“ Convincing and coercing aren't the same thing , Isaac,” she whispered.
“Ah, so you do know my name.” I grinned as we waltzed across the floor.
“Suck my dick,” she countered as I dipped her backward .
" Gladly .” I chuckled and brought her back up. Feisty. I like feisty. “One question: does that stick up your ass count as a sex toy?”
Her cheeks burned bright red and her mouth gaped open. She stomped on my foot again.
"Jesus, woman!" I yelped, trying to appear more amused than injured. Hannah Jane Hayes seemed hellbent on helping me meet an untimely demise.
“Acting like a dick won’t make yours any bigger," she said with a saccharine smile. "So, why don’t you just stop overcompensating, mmkay?”
“You seem to have this fascination with my dick. What do you say we find somewhere quiet and I’ll let you take it for a spin?”
The desire in her eyes betrayed her. It was fleeting, and she composed herself quickly. If I hadn't been staring so intently, I might have missed it.
But I didn’t.
I noticed the way her pupils dilated. The way her lips parted. The tiny breath she sucked in. The dangerous mix of shock and lust.
Jackpot.
Her slender throat constricted as she swallowed. “I don’t do hookups,” she said, sounding almost regretful .
The song ended and other couples filled the floor, but I didn’t stop dancing with her.
“You don’t do hookups, or haven’t? ” I asked, tracing a slow circle on the small of her back. I knew she could feel it through the tissue paper-thin blouse she had tucked into her fitted skirt.
“That’s privileged information, Mr. Lawson.”
I pulled the garter out of my suit pocket and slipped it around her slim wrist, doubling it over, so it was snug. “Trust me,” I soothed as I tucked a short strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll show you a good time.”
She pulled away from me and put her hands out as if she expected me to pounce. I wasn’t going to. Not yet. Not until she begged me to.
I waited patiently as she made a beeline for the DJ and gave him marching orders.
There was something about Hell Yes Ma’am that intrigued me. She had a killer body, supermodel face, and her sense of style could intimidate a man in the boardroom and bedroom.
No doubt about it—she was a fucking knockout.
She had the sex kitten thing going on that meant she didn’t have to show all kinds of skin to be sensual.
She was wearing a modest blouse that showed no cleavage and a pencil skirt that ended well past her knees, and I was drooling like a dog. She was classy and put together—pearls and all.
Hell Yes Ma'am had the composure of a pageant queen, but was vicious like a rattlesnake.
When was the last time I fucked a southern belle? I only had one day left in North Carolina. An orgasm or two would help me clear my mind before flying off to close an important deal.
From across the ballroom, Hannah Jane glared at me before turning to say something to Maddie and Luca. My eyes roamed up the back of those tan calves to the slit that ran up the back of her skirt. She had short hair that stopped below her chin. I imagined what it would feel like to tangle my fingers in those strands as I fucked her hard.
If I was going to get laid, it had to be tonight. And it had to be her.
The DJ announced that Maddie and Luca would be leaving for their honeymoon in a few minutes. As the crowd of wedding guests made their way outside to see them off, I put my plan in motion.
People liked to comment on my personal life. Or what they saw of it, at least.
I was the spoiled rich kid who inherited a real estate fortune. I was the stereotypical troublemaking heir. Partying hard before I even hit puberty. Shipped off to boarding school to reform my behavior.
I was an Ivy League shoo-in thanks to my name, not because I had earned it.
There were a few run-ins with the law because of my dalliance, which an attorney swept under the rug and sealed after some hefty payoffs.
I had two choices when I graduated with my MBA and slid into a corner office. I could either clean up my act and be the next generation of Lawsons to add a zero to our family fortune, or I could live high on the hog and have a good life.
So, I chose both.
The tabloids like to report on the clubs I did shots at, what flavor of the week was on my arm, or what lavish vacation I was jetting off to. What they didn’t see were the deals I closed in the VIP rooms of those clubs. The revolving door of women in my life? Necessary, both for appearances and for keeping my blood pressure from skyrocketing. Those international vacations? Expanding the firm’s territory.
I couldn’t take credit for it, though.
My junior year of undergrad included a failed exam and a slew of bad press. It was rough. My marketing professor took notice and demanded that I stop by for office hours.
She explained how I could use my reputation to my advantage rather than waste my time fighting it. That changed my whole perspective.
I had been winning ever since. I saw everything as a potential business deal. Everybody was somebody worth knowing. Life was constant negotiation, and I was always willing to throw my hat in the ring.
The price of that was the constant stress. Luca noticed it sometimes, but I tried not to let it show. He didn’t question it when I had a drink in my hand before lunch or a woman zipping up her dress and trying to fix her just-been-fucked hair between meetings.
The door closed quietly behind me as I snuck into Hannah’s office.
I had to give it to Hell Yes Ma’am. She had meticulously organized her office. Not that I expected any less from the drill sergeant of matrimony.
I respected someone who did their job well. Maddie and Luca’s wedding was fantastic, and I had a feeling that most of it was Hannah’s doing. Hell—Luca told me that on more than one occasion, Maddie threatened to cancel the wedding altogether and drag him down to the courthouse for a quickie ceremony to get it over with.
Her desk was clean, except for a few sticky notes with reminders for upcoming weddings. Perfect cursive handwriting, because of course.
A garment bag hanging from a coat rack in the corner caught my attention. I unzipped it and stole a peek. Hannah had stashed away an outfit that was identical to the one she was wearing tonight. The only difference was a pair of flat shoes on the floor rather than the high heels she was currently wearing.
I leaned back in her chair and propped my feet up on the desk and closed my eyes. After a while, I glanced at my watch. It was nearing midnight. I had been waiting in Hannah’s office for close to two hours after the wedding ended, but I wasn’t giving up yet.
I snooped through her top desk drawer and found—who would have guessed—nothing but a myriad of color-coordinated office supplies. There's had to be something more salacious than paperclips and rubber bands around here.
I pulled one of the file drawers open. Rows of cream-colored folders with client names and dates were lined up like soldiers. Boring.
I yanked open the other drawer and grinned as I reached in.
Let the games begin.