minutes in I heard somebody clear their throat behind us and we broke apart. I always forgot about his bodyguards.
“Do they follow you everywhere?” I asked.
“No, just when I’m doing public events,” he said, “you wouldn’t believe some of the psychos who come out to these things.”
Thinking back to the hyped up crowd chanting for him to remove his pants, I nodded and said, “Oh I think I do.”
“I want to say I’ll take you back to my apartment,” he groaned and leaned in for another kiss. He pulled back, stared at me and said, “Fuck, Aubrey, I want to promise that I’ll be a gentleman and I won’t try anything with you, but I’d be lying. And I’m not a liar, love, not to you. If I get you back to my place, I’ll kiss you some more, and I will want to take your clothes off and kiss every part of you,” he broke off to kiss me some more in the moment. “And if I kiss you all over, I know I’ll have to fuck you, and when I fuck you for the first time, I want it to be better than a drunk shag after a book signing.”
I was breathless with his confession. The old me might have wondered if the hottest man in the world was giving me the kiss off, but the new, lustful me admired his control.
I had to face it, if he’d made a move, I probably would have lifted my skirt and slid down his hardness right there, out in public in front of anybody who could see.
“I get it,” I replied, “I would be the same.” My voice caught in my throat and I couldn’t finish my sentence. I couldn’t tell him how much I ached to feel his skin on mine, how badly I wanted him to touch me down there, to make me cry out in ecstasy from his touch.
“I will have you eventually, love,” he said, “I will make love to you and we will bring so…much…joy…to…each…other…” As he spoke he nibbled up and down my collarbone and neck, punctuating each word with a hot little kiss. “But I want you to be sober, and I want it to be perfect.”
“I’m okay,” I said breathlessly and heard him chuckle against my ear.
“You always are,” he said and continued his sensual assault on my neck and throat. My entire body was alight, as if lit from within. I felt almost translucent, as if anyone walking by could see my beating heart just under my skin. I burned for him.
The bodyguard cleared his throat again and Isaac pulled back…again. It was almost painful for him to remove his hot, hard body from mine.
“We need to get you home, love,” he said, “give me your keys. I’ll drive your car and they’ll follow behind in mine.”
“I’m okay to drive,” I protested.
“You most certainly are not,” he stated simply and took the keys from me.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I capitulated and walked around to the passenger side. He followed, unlocked the door and opened it for me. I got in, folded my legs together like a proper lady and he shut it carefully. I felt positively regal.
He slid into my usual spot, adjusted the mirrors and asked me for directions.
We pulled out of the garage and my throat and lips were still burning for his touch. I reached up and stroked my collarbone gently, the way his lips had touched it. He caught my movement and reached for my hand.
It was bliss.
And just like that I became the one night stand Isaac James nailed during the book event in Seattle.
According to the papers that was.
Chapter Eight
I must have had much more to drink than I’d thought. When I woke up, I stretched and reluctantly opened my eyes.
My head was pounding and my mouth felt like somebody had stuffed cotton in it while I slept.
I jolted awake and sat straight up in my bed, clutching my pillow to my chest in absolute shock.
I had kissed Isaac James. He had kissed me. We had kissed.
Oh my god, the hottest man in the world had driven me home, chatted casually along the way, then made out with me like a teenager in front of Auntie Abby’s place until the wee hours of the
Learning to Kill: Stories