Dirtiest Little Secret

His hold eased. He spent a long, silent, intense moment staring into her eyes. Then he dragged her down and kissed her hard.

Even though they were strangers, even though he was rough and rude, he kissed like a lover. A true lover. With passion and reverence. Like he was here, with her, in the moment. Not back at the office, not with a different woman, not inside his own head.

Isaac broke the kiss with a breathless “Ride me.”

She pushed against his chest, slowly straightening, and sinking even deeper onto his cock. Sensations erupted through her sex, her belly, her chest. Her breath caught.

“Find the muffler pipe with your feet,” he told her. “And use it.”

Ava followed his direction and tested the security of her footing by pushing against the metal. She lifted off his body, easing his cock out of her, just an inch. Even that small movement radiated a pleasure-pain through her body that made her whimper.

She used his chest for balance and looked down into his handsome face as she moved. Sweat glistened on his chest and neck. His expression was fierce and hungry. His hands traveled her body, touching and teasing. All it took was the pressure of his thumb on her clit and Ava climaxed. The orgasm took her by complete surprise and shook her to the core. She cried into the night and fell forward, onto his chest.

Isaac’s hands fisted her hair, pulling her head back. He kissed her, deeply, erotically. He gripped her waist and took over the movements, spurring her on. He slammed her hips down, driving his cock so deep, she felt like she would split in two. The sensation added something new and unfamiliar to the sex, lifting her to orgasm after orgasm until she lost all track of time or place.

“Isaac…” she finally panted when he showed no signs of slowing. “Can’t. No more.”

He growled, curled into a sit-up, and captured her mouth in a hard kiss. His hands stroked over her back, around her belly, up her chest. His thumbs stroked across her nipples, and his palms caressed and squeezed. Ava turned her head to escape his mouth and pull in air. He gripped her waist as he kissed and nipped a path over her neck, down her chest, to her breast.

And while he had her back arched, her nipple between his teeth, he pumped his hips, driving his cock hard and deep until he made a liar out of her and another orgasm ripped through her body. Her moans drowned beneath the sound of Isaac’s own pleasure. Ava was still shaking when Isaac’s release hit. He buried his face against her neck and uttered guttural curses against her skin.

And when he lingered there, one arm tight at her waist, the other combing through her hair, his hot breath prickling her skin, Ava smiled and silently thanked the universe for Matthew’s idiocy.

6

Isaac pulled his Harley into the driveway of his parents’ multimillion-dollar home in Greenwich. Dominic and Delia Banks had worked hard all their lives, and it soothed Isaac to see the fruits of their labor providing security and comfort for his parents.

He shut down the engine, pulled off his sunglasses and looked around. Same old neighborhood, even if the homes now worth three million had been worth three-hundred thousand when he was a kid. Isaac couldn’t say it wasn’t beautiful. Couldn’t say he’d had a lousy childhood. Couldn’t say he’d had shitty parents either. But nor could he say he missed this life. A life of expectation, pressure, façades, and shallow relationships.

All he could say was that every time he came home, he wished he’d made different decisions a year ago.

Isaac climbed off the bike and started along the flower-lined stone walk to the porch. In the distance, their neighbor, Walt Henry, watered his prize begonias. Isaac paused on the steps, wearing his leather jacket and carrying his helmet, waiting for Mr. Henry to look up. When he finally did, Isaac lifted a hand and waved. “Hey, Mr. Henry.”

The man just glared.

His mother opened the front door. “What are you doing?”

“Annoying Mr. Henry,” he told his mom, grinning as he waved again. “Lookin’ good there, Mr. Henry. Your flowers too. Bet you win another blue ribbon this year.”

That earned him another glare.

His mother stepped onto the porch and glanced toward Mr. Henry, grinning. “You might have gotten more of a reaction if you’d loosened your muffler.”

Isaac barked a laugh and wrapped an arm around his mother’s narrow shoulders. “I’ll try that next time.” He looked down into her familiar blue eyes. “Hey, Mom.”

She gave him that smile filled with unconditional love that said everything from God, it’s good to see you to you don’t come around often enough. “Hey yourself, son.”

He gave her a squeeze, then let her go ahead of him into the house. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the backyard, fiddling with the pool filter.” She crossed the formal living room, passed the formal dining room, and made her way into the kitchen with an attached family room. A space that was bigger than both Isaac’s house in the country and his loft above the garage put together. “And before he comes in, I have to tell you the big news.”

She glanced out the window toward the yard to make sure he was still outside, then turned a bright smile on Isaac. “Your father’s been nominated for the International Excellence in Architecture Award.”

Isaac’s mouth dropped in surprise, then snapped into a grin. His chest filled with pride. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Fuckin’ way,” she said.

Isaac laughed and dropped to a stool at the breakfast bar. Delia opened the fridge and turned back with a Guinness for Isaac, then slid a bottle opener across the granite.