Suited (St. Martin Family Saga) (2 page)

3

I
sabela Petrovich exited
her car in her cream-colored peplum sheath dress belted at the waist with a small black ribbon that made her feel ultrafeminine. Isa liked to dress nicely now that she could afford better clothes, and just because she had a man’s job, that didn’t mean she needed to dress like a man. She’d grown up in foster care. She’d never been bought anything with her in mind; everything had been handed down. She looked for Camp’s SUV, but didn’t see it. She did see a behemoth of a black Chevy truck. Her body started to thrum and tingle; she’d known that feeling many years ago. Cash was in the big truck.

Confirming her suspicions, he exited the vehicle and strode toward her, looking more like sin than he ever had.
Oh shit, game on.
The wind picked up his long hair and blew it over his brow and into his eyes. His pouty mouth displayed those magical white teeth and ridiculously delicious lips. She lifted her hand to fan at her face and was immediately appalled. Before she gave away how affected she was, she stilled her hand. She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it of the heady thoughts. But it was no use. When he stood before her, his arresting blue eyes fringed with thick dark lashes had her right back where she’d been all those years ago—at his beck and call.

How many times had she thought that were she to see him again she’d punch him square in his too handsome face? But with him standing before her, she’d been rendered immobile. Suddenly all her hate, anger, and hurt didn’t matter so much. He was home, he was safe, and for that she was thankful. She’d lost too many people, and the issues she had with him were put aside for the time being as she thanked God that he’d somehow been led back to her.

Her stomach turned as her mind went to thoughts of other women. The women from television—he’d been linked to so many. Was he in a committed relationship? Why did she even care? God, the pain of how he’d left her to deal with her issues on her own was still fresh. He’d never even once looked back, and so she’d kept her secrets. After all, he’d made it clear that he no longer wanted them, wanted nothing of hers. She’d given him everything, and she knew he’d given her the same. During their three-year relationship, he’d always been accessible. He was the love of her life, and he’d shown her so much tenderness in those years. They’d spent every day together, hour upon hour, never once hating a second of it.

As he approached she watched his carefree, confident swagger that she’d always loved. He reminded her of a panther searching for prey.

God, how she’d longed to ask him the only question she’d needed answered—how could he walk away from it all, no questions, no contact. He’d closed the book and never once opened it again. Once he was done, he was done. Sure, there had been problems between him and his father, but why not reach out to her for help? She’d thought about every possible reason he could have had for his actions, but had found none to satisfy her. She’d finally decided he must have simply wanted a clean break, no memories of the past to mar his starlit future.

They’d always been there for each other. She saw the scar in his brow and recalled how she’d nursed him back to consciousness from bender after bender, and he’d helped her through college. He listened for countless hours as she problem-solved her thesis topic, and then he’d helped her organize her thoughts. He’d even ended up paying for their apartment, no matter how much she’d pleaded to be allowed to help. He’d wanted her to focus on school and not work. So that last year she’d quit her waitressing job.

She’d hated to see his pain, but she never once expressed her opinion. His problems with his father always led to a binging episode, and she hadn’t wanted to do anything that might cause more of that behavior. She’d confidently stood by and comforted him when he needed her. She’d thought one day he might be ready to confide in her, to allow her to help diffuse his pain, maybe give him some advice, but he hadn’t. He’d never turned to her. Instead he’d left.

She attempted to speak, but no words came from her throat. She cleared it and tried again. “Cash, it’s been so long.”

“Isabela, you’re breathtaking. God, look at you.”

Isa’s breathing became shallow and her heartbeat erratic. The wind picked up and mingled their colognes, carrying the evocative scent up to her nose. She was burning for him already. He seemed to be feeling the same way, if his erection was any evidence. If he made the first move, she’d fall at his feet and let him do what he wanted with her. What she wanted.

She prayed that he would.

≈

“It’s been too long.” Cash reached out and tucked a lock of Isa’s hair behind her ear. Still as smooth as ever. Eyeing her industrial-sized clipboard, he asked, “Are you working on this project?”

“Camp called me. Is he here?” She frowned, looking around in search of Camp. “He said he needed a geo-technical engineer, so here I am.”

Cash smiled at the memory of his brother’s last words. He’d known damn well Isa’s presence would throw Cash off balance. She’d majored in some sort of engineering program, but Cash had failed to make the connection that she worked in commercial construction. God, how she’d haunted his dreams. He didn’t even know she’d stayed in the area. She’d talked about hoping to locate extended family in Croatia—he’d wondered if she’d moved out of the States and assumed, when he was at his lowest, that oceans separated them. Suddenly horrible thoughts filled his head. Had she married? Was she serious with someone? He had no right to feel it, but he was possessive of her.

“How have you been, Isa?”

Her full lips tightened. “Let’s stay away from the personal, Cash. I’ve come to work.”

He frowned. “Then you can talk to me. I’ve got lead on this project.”

Her eyes widened. “Since when have you…” She shook her head.

“I’ve been in town a couple of weeks. And I’m helping Camp out. And I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

She turned away, took in a deep breath, and turned back to him. “I think we should discuss the project.”

“Okay.” He deserved her slapdown. Only she’d forgotten how he could read her like a book. Her taut nipples and rapid breathing meant she was as turned on as he was. He gestured for her to lead the way to the temporary office. Cash watched her calf muscles flex as she climbed the steps. That dress was enough to kill a man. He adjusted his trapped cock before she turned around. His heart raced. She was talking about the soil and structural support. He trusted her integrity and her professional instincts so as far as he was concerned, she could do as she pleased with the plans. And so would he.

Cash walked right up to her, slipped his hands into her silky hair, and drank from her mouth. His tongue forcefully penetrated her shocked lips. It wasn’t long before she was giving back everything he gave. Her soft mewling sounds drove him wild. She tasted of ginger and mint, just as he remembered. The memories rushed his mind like a tidal wave—her sweat-slicked body writhing beneath him, the way she moaned his name around her climax. God, he had to take her now. He hoped she would let him, because he wasn’t in the mood to be denied.

His hand slipped over her breast. Even through the cloth of her dress he could feel the hardness of her nipple. While he shaped her breast and pulled at her nipple, he licked and nibbled her neck from just under her ear to the top of her chest. She was panting. Cash took the clipboard from her hands and threw it on the desk. He pressed her roughly into him and lifted her ass to rest on the table’s edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid his fingers up her calves, past her knees. When he reached her thighs, he growled long and low in the back of his throat.

“Christ.”

The woman was wearing thigh highs and garters. He felt more drops of come leak in his shorts. At this rate he would come just from feeling her up. He slowed himself down by removing one of her pumps and massaging her foot and calf. No, that didn’t help. Touching her soft skin had him remembering all the other times he’d touched her. How each encounter had ended with him pumping his seed into her, over her, on her. He needed to have her. His hands pushed the hem of her skirt up to her waist.

Cash gasped at the sight of her open to him. She’d always been sexy but now, in the delicate French lingerie that barely covered her, she was more erotic than anything he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a lot. He palmed her cunt and felt her thinly clothed mound wet against his hand. He slid the thin material of her panties to one side and found her clit. He massaged the hard bud with his thumb and pushed his middle finger into her pussy. She dropped her hands to the desk and pushed her hips toward him, bucking against his fingers as the two of them took her into climax. Her body trembled and jerked, and she moaned his name repeatedly, ending on a whisper with her last wave.

Isa leaned forward and reached out to Cash’s crotch. She massaged him through his trousers. When she felt the hard thickness of his erection, her tongue swiped across her bottom lip. Then her hands efficiently undid his pants. When she freed him, she stroked his cock in her velvet grip while she watched his seed drip from the tip. God, he couldn’t decide what to watch, her hands on his cock or her face with her eyes focused on him with sensual concentration. She bit her lip, looked into his eyes, and then, without breaking her gaze, she sent her tongue out to lap up his fluid.

“Fuck, Isa,” Cash cried.

He used his hands to lift her legs high, placing them around his hips.

Cash mumbled, “I need you.”

Isa nodded. Cash grasped his cock and grazed it through her silky, wet folds. When his tip lined up with her entrance, he dove in using one swift, forceful motion. Isa cried out at the fullness, as she always had. “God, it’s good to be home.” Cash meant that in more ways than one. When Isa started gyrating her hips, Cash pulled out to the tip and slammed home again. He attempted to be slow and sensual, but as it always was with Isa, he couldn’t control himself. He slammed into her again and again, thrusting with all his might. He held her tight, ensuring that she took his fullness. He picked them up and turned, pushing her against the wall. As he rammed her with his full length, her body climbed higher and higher up the wall. When Isa’s warm channel gripped his cock tight, it drove him over the edge. He pumped his release into her while she trembled beneath him. Her name was a whisper over his lips.

He let her down slowly, feeling her rub against him. He needed that just as much as the sexual release. When he let her go, she set about righting her clothes, and he stuffed himself back into his trousers. He cleared his throat before asking, “Are you seeing someone?”

“After that, I surely hope not.” She smiled at him. “Same is true about you, I guess.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

She turned to him, balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder as she put on her heels. “What are you doing here?”

“You want the short version or the long?”

“I have time.”

Cash smirked. “I was hoping you’d choose that option. Have dinner with me tonight so we can catch up.”

Isa frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why the hell not? We just caught up physically.”

“Getting physical is one thing, getting emotional is quite another.” She turned and reached for her clipboard.

Cash grasped her upper arm. “The hell it is. You can’t separate one from the other.”

“I said no, Cash.”

Cash sucked in air through his teeth and released her, feeling as if he’d been burned. “Isa, please, we’ve only just found each other again. I need you.”

Isa laughed. It wasn’t a laugh Cash had ever heard before. It carried a hardness that saddened him.

“And where were you when I needed you?”

When had she needed him?

Isa turned and met his gaze. “You left without a word. We loved each other and you just walked out on me, on us. I won’t give you another chance to do that.”

He’d made her hard and without hope. God, he was to blame for her attitude.

“I’m sorry. You know my father was crashing down hard on me. I had to get out of here. I had to show everyone who didn’t believe in me that I could be something.”

“
I
had always known that, Cash. You’d always been something to me. I believe I told you that a time or two.”

She had. Cash remembered her telling him at least once per day that he could be anything, that he would always be successful. She used to say he had a knack for making money and the looks to get people to board his train. She’d believed in him even then, in spite of the drugs, alcohol, and the arrests. He’d been a mess, but she’d never left his side. He’d been so wrapped up in his own little world he hadn’t thought how his leaving would impact her. She had every right to be mad.

“I’m sorry, Isa, I would never knowingly hurt you.”

“I’ve gotta go. I have another appointment.”

“When will I see you again?”

“Four o’clock tomorrow. It’s on our calendar. Better download it to iCal.”

She walked out, and her car engine came to life. Cash pressed his palms down against the table and tried to calm himself. But he lost the battle rather quickly and in one motion wiped the contents of the table to the floor. “Fuck!”