Chapter 2 2

Isabella

I stepped into Alex's penthouse. After Lucas left, the celebration had gone on for another hour, and I'd knocked back two more glasses of champagne to calm my nerves.

I kicked off my heels at the door, my feet aching from dancing.

He'd texted earlier saying he'd be working late at the office, and it was something about quarterly reports.

To my surprise, the kitchen light was on. I padded across the polished hardwood floor and found Alex standing at the counter, pouring what looked like a chocolate milkshake into a single glass. He was still in his work clothes: charcoal slacks and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, but his tie was loosened.

"Hey! You're home," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "I thought you were stuck at work."

Alex's head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly. "Isabella! I... finished early." He set the blender down, his movements a little too careful. "Didn't expect you back yet."

"Well, surprise!" I grinned, crossing the kitchen to wrap my arms around his waist. "Guess what? I got the promotion!"

"That's great, babe." He kissed the top of my head, his body relaxing against mine. "Senior designer, right? Congratulations."

"Thanks. We were celebrating at The Twisted Oak." I glanced at the milkshake. "That looks good. Pour me some?"

"Uh, this is the last of the ice cream. I can make you something else?"

"No, it's fine." I waved him off, moving to the fridge to grab a water bottle instead. "You have it."

Alex picked up the glass and took a long sip, watching me over the rim. His eyes traveled down my body, lingering on the way my emerald dress hugged my curves.

"You look fucking hot," he said, setting the glass down. "Did you wear that to work?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling the heat of his gaze. "For the celebration after."

He moved toward me, his hands finding my waist. "Must've had every guy at the bar drooling."

If only he knew about Lucas Hamilton. The memory of his touch sent an unexpected shiver through me. I pushed the thought away and focused on Alex, my boyfriend of three years.

"Maybe," I teased, pressing my body against his. "But I came home to you."

Alex's eyes darkened as he slid his hands down to cup my ass through the silky fabric of my dress. The champagne had left me buzzing, my skin hypersensitive to his touch.

"Damn right you did," he growled, his mouth finding mine in a hungry kiss.

I moaned against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck as he backed me against the refrigerator. His tongue pushed into my mouth, tasting faintly of chocolate and something else I couldn't place.

"Someone missed me," I whispered, nipping at his bottom lip.

His hands found the tie of my wrap dress, tugging it loose with practiced ease. "You have no fucking idea."

The dress fell open, revealing my black lace bra and matching thong. Alex's breath hitched as he took in the sight of me.

"Fuck, Izzy," he muttered, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts. "Were you wearing this all night?"

I arched into his touch, my nipples hardening beneath the lace. "Maybe I was."

He pinched my nipples through the fabric, making me gasp. "You little tease."

Before I could respond, he hoisted me up, his hands gripping my thighs as he carried me to the kitchen island. The cold marble against my heated skin made me shiver as he set me down, pushing my dress off my shoulders.

"Alex," I panted as he unhooked my bra with one hand, tossing it aside. "What's gotten into you?"

He didn't answer, just lowered his head to take my nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make me cry out. My hands flew to his hair, holding him against me as he lavished attention on my breasts, alternating between gentle licks and sharp nips.

"God, I love your tits," he murmured against my skin, his stubble scratching deliciously. "Perfect fucking handfuls."

His hand slid between my legs, pushing my thong aside to stroke my already wet pussy. I bucked against his touch, desperate for more friction.

"So wet already," he said, sliding a finger inside me. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes," I gasped as he added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot that made me see stars. "Only you."

He worked me with his fingers, his thumb circling my clit until I was trembling on the edge. Just as I was about to come, he withdrew his hand, leaving me whimpering.

"Not yet," he said, fumbling with his belt. "I need to be inside you."

I watched, breathing heavily, as he shoved his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom.

"You came prepared," I said, raising an eyebrow.

He tore the packet open with his teeth. "Always ready for you, babe."

Once he'd rolled the condom on, he positioned himself at my entrance, teasing me with just the tip. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

"Please," I begged, not caring how desperate I sounded.

With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned, setting a punishing pace. "So tight around my cock."

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our ragged breathing and skin slapping against skin. I clung to him, meeting each thrust as he pounded into me, the edge of the counter digging into my ass.

"I'm close," I panted, feeling the tension building. "Don't stop."

Just as I was about to tip over the edge, a shrill ringing cut through our moans. Alex froze mid-thrust, his head whipping toward the living room.

"Ignore it," I pleaded, trying to rock against him.

He hesitated, still buried inside me. The phone continued ringing.

"Shit," he muttered, pulling out and leaving me empty and aching. "I have to take this."

I watched in disbelief as he tucked himself back into his pants and hurried to the living room, his cock still hard and straining against the fabric. I pulled my dress closed, suddenly feeling exposed and frustrated.

Alex grabbed his phone from the coffee table, and his back was to me as he answered. "Hello?"

His voice dropped to a whisper. I strained to hear, sliding off the counter on shaky legs.

"I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes," he said before hanging up.

When he turned back to me, his expression had changed completely. The desire was gone, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I have to go," he said, not quite meeting my eyes. "Client emergency."

"At midnight?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Big deal on the line." He was already grabbing his jacket. "I'm sorry, babe. I'll make it up to you."

I watched him straighten his tie, my body still humming with unfulfilled need. "This is the third time this week, Alex."

"I know, I know. I won't be long," he promised, already heading for the door.

After he left, I stood alone in our kitchen, my dress half-open, my pussy still wet and aching.

I picked up my bra from the floor, a sick feeling settling in my gut. Was I really that stupid? The late nights, the mysterious phone calls...