Page 29

ISABELLE

B reakfast was ready for me to take to work this morning when I came downstairs, which I appreciated, but Pierre was nowhere to be seen.

I’m guessing he needs some space, and I don’t blame him.

He did say he was going to look for an apartment today after his meeting with The Mavericks.

I bet he doesn’t feel comfortable around me now.

I wouldn’t. Why was I such a dirty perv?

My phone beeps.

Pierre: Are you alone?

Issy: Yes. Is everything okay?

Pierre: Check the security cameras.

Oh no. Did something happen? Were we robbed while he was out?

Did Frankston eat more of my shoes? I thought I had hidden them all.

Shit. Did the paparazzi find him? I click on the app and gasp, almost dropping the phone in the process.

There he is without a shirt on and with his gray sweats, staring at the camera as if he’s looking right at me.

Pierre: Can you call me?

Um.

I watch as he makes the signal on the video of a phone with his fingers. Why does he want me to call him? My heart is beating outside of my chest. I press the button on my phone to call him and bring back up the security app.

“Good girl,” he coos through the phone. “Is the door to your office locked?”

“No.”

“Lock it,” he commands. I get up, rush toward the door, and click the lock.

“It’s locked.”

“Good. And there’s no way anyone can see you in your office?” he asks.

“The windows are behind me,” I tell him.

“Can any other buildings see into your office?”

“Yes.”

“Close the blinds, Issy,” he demands.

I press the button to close the blinds. “They’re closed.”

He gives me a wide smile as he pushes his sweats down and starts fisting himself. I gasp but I don’t look away. I should look away, but I don’t.

“This is what you saw yesterday, isn’t it?” he questions me.

I lick my lips watching him fist himself right in front of me. “Yes.” My answer is shaky. “And you were so turned on after watching me touch myself to your scent that you came home early to relieve yourself because that throbbing ache between your thighs was driving you insane.”

“Yes,” I whimper as I watch him continue to touch himself.

“Thought so. Touch yourself, Issy.”

“What! No. I’m at work,” I hiss at him as he continues to slide his hand up and down his thick cock. I bite my bottom lip, enjoying the free show.

“No one will know, but you’re not going to get any work done if you don’t.” He smirks as he stands there jerking himself off. This is insane. I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. I’m at work. “What are you wearing today?” he asks.

“Blouse and pants.”

“Is there enough room for you to slide your hand inside?”

“Yes.” The word sounds breathless.

“Good, now do it. Tell me how wet you are so I can continue.” His hand stops moving as he glares into the camera.

What the hell am I thinking? He’s right, though, there’s an aching throb between my legs, one that has been there since yesterday and now that he’s awakened it again it’s all I can think about.

Thank goodness I chose pants with an elastic top today as I nervously slide my hand inside my pants and into my underwear, my fingers meeting the dampness between my thighs.

A hiss falls from my lips. “Good girl.” He chuckles darkly as he starts touching himself again.

I thought this man was upset with me. I didn’t realize he was turned on.

This is wrong. So very wrong, but I can’t stop it, nor do I want to.

It’s hot. Has a new kink been unlocked? “Did it get you hot watching me touch myself to you?” I moan at his words.

“Will you leave your drenched underwear for me to use tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Issy.” He groans, muscles straining as he continues to jerk himself to the thought of my underwear. It’s hot. So hot. “The things I want to do to you, Issy.”

“Tell me?” I moan as my fingers slide against my clit.

“Last night all I could think about during dinner was using that fucking vibrator on your aching cunt and seeing how many orgasms I could pull from you. Would I make you squirt? Would you pass out?” My hand thumps the desk as my fingers continue to circle myself.

“When you walk into the kitchen in the mornings looking all sleeping and soft. All I think about is dropping to my knees, spreading your legs, and eating you until you scream as your morning caffeine boost.” Dammit.

Yes. “When you were on your knees in front of me the other day, your lips all pink and pouty as you tried to calm me down, I imagined what it would have been like to rub the tip of my dick across those lips. Watching them wrap around my cock as it slowly slides past them.” I whimper at the imagery.

“That damn fucking nightdress you wear to bed kills me, you prance around the house and all I see is your taunt nipples pressed against the silk and all I want to do is bite them. Suck on them. Tease them. See if I can make you come just by playing with them.” This man is going to kill me.

“Saint,” I moan, using the nickname I used to call him.

“Say my name again, baby, it’s been too long since I’ve heard it on your lips.”

“Saint,” I moan.

“That’s it. You’re close, so fucking close.

” He groans as I continue to watch him viciously touch himself, every part of him straining as he chases his own high.

“Come for me, baby, drench those fingers for me.” And next thing I know, I am coming and doing exactly that.

Moments later, I hear Pierre’s moans as he finishes off in his hand.

Shit.

What have I done? I hang up and turn off the app.