Free Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1) by Rissa Brahm Page A

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    I sabel stepped through the door, slick heat running through her and pooling at her core. She let her jacket fall at her feet while Zack hiked her skirt up to her hips, exposing her thin string thong against her smooth-as -silk mound, which she always kept groomed for this exact occasion.
    In a flash, he had his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up and pressing her back against the wall at the penthouse entrance before she could even check out that bay view he had bragged about.
    But she couldn’t have cared less about the view fifty stories up, because— oh, God— he was more amazing to look at than Heaven and Earth combined!
    His mouth ravaged hers as she tore her hands through his hair, just-long -enough waves of auburn for her to grab and pull. “Let’s definitely get you out of these wet clothes,” she whispered, and then felt his whole body shiver, pinned there by her tight but trembling legs.
    His hand pulled her shirt down at the neckline to devour her right breast, heavy and exposed above her black lace demi-bra . He popped her nipple out from under its blanket of frill and twirled the hard button with the tip of his tongue. Then, going crazy from the overstimulation, she pulled his face back up to her mouth and she devoured him right back.
    He cupped her ass and carried her further inside the suite while she pulled her mouth away to gasp for air. Lungs replenished, she went in for another delectable taste of him…but noticed his once-hungry eyes had flicked to the minibar.
    “What is it?” she breathed, brushing her lips against his neck, her body’s angle against his rock hard cock making her need spike a million degrees.
    “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing in the entire universe is wrong right now! Isabel…Jesus, you are so fucking right, it hurts,” he managed through panted breath.
    He carried her across the room, her nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Between her heart pumping triple time, her increasing lack of oxygen, his incredible scent penetrating her nostrils, remnants of her tequila buzz, and the peripheral view out of the floor-to -ceiling windows, she felt completely dizzy.
    But when they landed on the sofa, him grinding into her arousal, she became anchored again, safe under his protective cage of bulk manhood. His mouth delivering a torrent of sensual, focused attention to hers.
    It felt divine. Indescribable.
    Right up until he stopped, backed off and stepped back, hands up in the air as if surrendering to something or someone.
    *
    “What? What is it?” she asked, slightly out of breath, a little frustrated and definitely confused. She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind right then, but judging from his intense erection begging to be rescued from his pants, he wasn’t backing away from her because of… her . Right?
    “I can’t go so fast,” he stammered then raked his hands through his hair. “You are too fucking…amazing, Isabel.”
    She watched his Adam’s apple bob up then down in his thick, ropey neck, while her heart did the same in her chest. Was he for real? Or was this the end of their heated play? Because it felt like something had cut the power at the electrical box.
    “I need a drink, you?” He spun around then walked over to the minibar.
    Yes, it seems like we’re done. She leaned forward on the sofa, her chest still heaving while he pulled out a glass from below the bar counter, then glanced up at her. “Isabel…I need to drag this out… I need to…savor you.”
    She blinked then squinted at him from across the room. Okay . Somewhat cheesy, but she could like being savored. She relaxed a bit into the sofa’s mold and let her lip curl a fraction, relief and a new round of heat resuming below her middle. “Sounds okay to me.”
    A quick exhale of relief, then a nod. “So a drink?”
    “Yeah, I’ll take one, thanks,” she said then smiled, but couldn’t shake the weird feeling in her gut that had only crept in since moving