Stealing Her (Covet 1)

I let out a low laugh and leaned over to kiss her on the head. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

“Mmm.” She didn’t say anything after that.

I played with her hair. I imagined a scenario where this was real life, where I was in my apartment . . . with her, living a life . . . with her.

I was such a fucking imposter.

I got up and grabbed my old phone, ready to text my mom, to ask for advice, when I realized it wouldn’t do any good for her to be even more stressed.

I tucked my phone away and looked back at the bed as the sun started to slowly rise, letting light in the room.

“Please, Julian, please . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please try to understand.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

ISOBEL

My body was sore from him.

I felt it with each step I ran in Central Park.

I felt him when I washed my sweaty body.

I felt him when I went to the market to grab food for dinner.

And I felt him when I went back Thursday night and started cooking, waiting in excited expectation for him to walk through the door.

Bridge.

My Bridge.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I thought about the choice I’d made, a man I barely knew and yet felt like I’d known all my life.

Maybe because Bridge truly felt like the way Julian used to be, before his father took over. Bridge was the man Julian was never given the chance to be, wasn’t he?

I’d gone to the ICU wing that day to bring Julian flowers and was shocked when the nurses told me that the doctors said I couldn’t see him. Something about a compromised immune system. So I left the flowers at the desk with a get-well balloon and ran errands the rest of the day.

And because I felt stupid waiting for Bridge to get home, I’d gone on another walk; it helped me process.

Hours later, I put my hand on my stomach and took in a deep breath as the door to the penthouse swung open.

I sucked in a breath when Bridge dropped keys and Julian’s wallet onto the counter. The suit he was wearing was navy blue, his shirt white. He looked like he belonged on the cover of Men’s Journal. Then again, one misstep and he would probably Hulk right out of those clothes.

Bridge looked at me, pulling off the aviators Julian rarely wore, setting himself apart that much more.

“Hungry?” I rasped.

“Starving.” Two steps, and he was pulling me into his arms, pulling my skirt up to my thighs, and setting me on the counter. I’d never heard a sexier sound than a belt being pulled off, pants getting unzipped as he angled his head, kissing me hard, demanding I give him every inch of my mouth as my bare ass slid against the cold marble. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

“Thought I would see what all the fuss was about.” I pulled back and bit down on my bottom lip at his amused grin.

“And?” He teased my lips with a few hungry nips. “What’s the conclusion?”

I spread my legs wide, his eyes dilated. “I think if it makes you look at me like that, I’m never wearing them again.”

His mouth slammed against mine. “Damn, where have you been my entire life?”

“Oh, you know, waiting for the evil twin to show up and rescue me.”

He smiled against my neck. “Truer words were never spoken. Don’t forget I’m the bad guy in this scenario, Izzy. You weren’t mine to take.”

“Yes,” I confessed. “I really was.”

He let out a fierce growl before kissing me harder, pulling me to the edge of the countertop, and entering me with one fluid thrust. “Thought about this . . . in every shitty meeting.”

“Sex in the kitchen?”

“Sex with you.” He silenced me with another kiss. “Sex with you everywhere. And then Netflix while we break, more sex, talking, whiskey, tucking you into bed, keeping you safe, more sex, followed by more protecting.” His movements were frenzied. I wasn’t going to last long, I dug my nails into his bulging biceps and hung on while he picked me up by the ass and sank deeper into me.

“Right there.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh God, I don’t think I can—”

“Don’t think,” he commanded in a strong voice. “Just feel what you do to me.”

And I did, oh man, I did.

Every hard inch of him.

I did that.

I clenched my teeth as my release hit me soon after.

He said my name.

He whispered it.

He repeated it.

He revered it.

I felt his words wrap around me softly, our bodies still linked, when he pressed a kiss to my lips and looked into my eyes. “How any man can keep his eyes, let alone his hands, off you is beyond me, Izzy. You’re everything.”

My eyes welled with tears. “I’d like to think it was hard for him.”