The Fight for Us (11 page)

His hands gripped her cheeks, and his mouth closed in on hers, but he stopped short, leaving her breathless against his lips that were mere inches from hers. His eyes bore into her, and all she could manage to do was grip the sides of his waist, feeling his muscles tighten as she squeezed.

When his forehead sank to hers, she sighed and his grip on her cheeks loosened. Her face was flushing and warm, and coupled with the cool glass that touched and chilled the back of her body, her insides were left not having a clue what to feel at all. She was flushing, she was chilling, she was shivering and sweating all at once.

“Fuck, Joss. Why is this so hard?” His tone was desperate, and he shook his head as his thumb brushed gently over her cheek.

“It’s okay.” It didn’t feel okay at all. It felt like he was two seconds from rejecting her again. She should be thankful for the rejection, but she wasn’t—not at all. “I know you’re not ready for this.”

She pulled away then, trying to skirt around him, assuming there was little more to say, but he pulled back.

His hands held her by the cheeks again, and he watched her. “Shut up.” His words were murmured so close to her lips that she could feel his lips brush softly against hers as he spoke. And then he was silent. He let his mouth linger and touch hers without kissing her, and she waited. Whatever this hurdle was he was standing at, she couldn’t be the one to make him move past it.

When his lips parted against hers, she started to melt into him and whimper at the same time. The first kiss was gentle and slow, but before it even ended, he was pulling her lower lip between his. The smack was quiet and sweet, and then he was sucking on her top lip. His mouth was incredibly warm, and when his lips parted again, she felt that warmth push between her lips along with his tongue.

She could do nothing at all but grip the sides of his waist, her nails digging in harder and harder the farther his tongue delved and licked. She pulled him toward her as he held her firmly against the window. His hips met her body, and she felt his need hard against her stomach, demanding more, regardless of how much he’d fought against this.

“Fuck.” She murmured it between his tongue leaving her mouth and hers entering his.

He groaned, and then she was running her tongue along his as his groan loudened and the pressure of his body against the front of hers intensified. That cool hard surface behind her began to cover more and more of her backside as he pushed her harder into it, and then his hands were gripping her. As one ran down the front of her throat, their mouths continued to pull, lick, suck, and bite at each other’s lips. He slipped his hand easily past the loose billowy satin that sat along the low neckline, and then his fingers slid under the top of her bra, brushing quickly down over the hardened peak of her nipple. She cried out as his fingertips grazed the over sensitized and tight bud, and the moan he returned vibrated past her lips and down her throat.

When the door downstairs suddenly slammed shut, they both gasped, sucking the breath from one another’s mouths and pulling apart in unison. She was panting, taking lurching shuttering gasps as she tried to focus on what was happening. It was the most confusing moment in her life, trying to shift from the complete and utter sexual frenzy of what they’d been doing back to the real world, real life, and real slamming doors in one second flat.

“Joss!” Randall’s voice trailed up to them from the main level.

“Fuck.” She tried to talk through her panting breaths.

Isaiah pulled his hands from her body, letting his still groping fingertips gently brush across her nipple one last time. She gasped again, and he calmly watched her face. His rapid breathing and equally fast blinking said what his still body and expressionless face didn’t. He was freaking the fuck out just as much as she was.

“Randall?” His head cocked to the side as he questioned her.

She did nothing but nod in response, still struggling to breathe enough to talk.

“I think I hate him already,” Isaiah muttered as he turned from her, clearing his throat and waiting for her to lead him back downstairs.

She was as silent as he was as she led the way, and she forced herself to release a deep breath as she stepped off the last stair to the foyer floor. They found Randall in the kitchen peering into her purse without touching it. He was a snoop, and if it wasn’t her tits he was infringing on it, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see it would be her personal possessions.

“What are you doing, Randall?” Her voice was finally working again, and as she glared at him, he slowly turned around with a broad smile on his face.

“Ah, Joselyn. Good of you to show my listing for me.”

She sneered in response.

His eyes zoned in on her tits as he started to talk. “On my way to pick up a
client—
” he enunciated it strangely for some odd reason “—and I thought I’d swing by. I have an open house here this weekend. Just wanted to make sure everything was in order seeing as the owners are in Florida for the winter. Didn’t expect to see you—”

Isaiah’s snapping fingers over her right shoulder cut Randall off and made her jump. When Randall’s focus quickly pulled up at the sound, Isaiah spoke.

“What part of her are you surprised to see? Because you can’t seem to find anything but her chest.”

Randall laughed nervously but played off Isaiah’s comment as a joke. When Isaiah stepped up beside her, his arms were crossed on his chest and he was glaring. If Randall really thought there was anything about Isaiah’s demeanor that was joking, then he’d lost his damn mind.

“Have we met?” Randall was suddenly all charm, smiling ear to ear as he held his hand out to Isaiah.

Isaiah glanced to his outstretched hand before ignoring it and coolly looking back to the man’s eyes. When Isaiah reached past Randall to snatch her purse and coat from the kitchen island, he spoke over his shoulder to her. “We should go. This house is overpriced.” It was, frankly.

“This house has some amazing features. I’m guessing Joselyn just didn’t point them out—”

“Shut up,” Isaiah muttered as his attention returned to her.

She could feel her eyes bulging. Isaiah reached to her chin, pushing it up to close her mouth, and smirked. Of course, Isaiah was blocking Randall’s view of her, so the man missed her shock.

He helped her into her coat and handed her purse to her as well. Randall remained quiet the entire time, and they spoke not a word to the man as they turned and left the house. But the moment the front door was closed, Isaiah spat out, “Prick,” on an irritated sigh.

She followed him, but when he suddenly stopped and rounded on her, she nearly walked into his chest.

“The man is aware you have a face, right?”

She balked. “You’re one to talk.” It slipped out. She’d not forgotten the trouble he had the first time she’d shown him homes.

He glanced slowly to her chest, not hiding the attention at all, before letting his gaze slowly move back up to her eyes. “Oh, no. I’m well aware you have a face—quite a lovely one, in fact. Lips too, warm ones.” He stepped toward her, looking down at her. “And an exceptionally delicious tongue.” He inhaled slowly.

She stared in a stupor at him. “You kissed me.”

His suddenly rapidly blinking eyes and creased forehead said he wasn’t expecting that response. Hell, she wasn’t either. It was literally the only thing that had popped in her head, and naturally, she’d said it.

He shook his head, chuckling for a moment. “Yes. I’m aware.” And then as he reached for her mouth, running his thumb along her lower lip, he continued. “Might have gotten a little carried away given how swollen and pink your lips are.” His thumb lingered as his eyes followed the path his thumb ran, and then he cleared his throat as he pulled back. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yes. You figured it out quickly.”

“The completely contrived smile, passive aggressive comments, and inappropriate eye fondling gave it away. Is there some reason you would show me one of his listings?”

“I show his, he shows mine, albeit rarely as much as I show his.”

“Why exactly?”

“That’s just how it works.” She shrugged.

“I see. And if you sell one of his homes, you get what?”

“Half the commission.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you get if you sell one of your own listings?”

“Full commission.”

“And if we narrowed this list of homes down to only those you listed, how long would the list be?”

“Seven in total. Three of which we’ve already viewed, two of which we haven’t but can, two of which we’ll have to make an appointment to see because they’re occupied by the seller.”

“What three have we already seen, just out of curiosity?”

“One, two, and four.”

He continued to study her for a moment, considering something. “I want to see one again.” He turned from her then, walking toward their cars.

She stared at him for a moment without moving, but as he neared her car and slowed, she followed. He waited for her, pulling her driver’s side door open.

Once she’d approached, she stopped, studying him. “One?”

He shrugged. “What?”

“They always go back to the first one.” She muttered as she ducked under his arm while he held her door open.

Chapter Ten

Isaiah could barely keep his eyes on the road as he followed Joss back to house one. He was pretty sure he was losing his mind, and he was also pretty sure there was little chance he wouldn’t be throwing himself headlong into crazy town at this point. Things had been awkward as fuck with her for nearly a month, and rather than try to make amends with her, he’d stuck his tongue down her throat. Overkill—that’s what it was. His mouth, his fucking traitorous fingers that groped her nipple—the whole damn bit of it. She was just a bit too incredible not to trade his sanity for. He’d been fighting the urge, hell, the absolute need, to give in for weeks, and while he may not have intended to maul her face like a desperate teen with a hard-on, he also couldn’t exactly say he hadn’t set himself up for failure by demanding her time.

They pulled up in the driveway, and he sat for a moment, trying to shift his focus to the house and not her. He remembered more of house one than he’d previously acknowledged to her, and of everything they’d seen so far, he was quite certain he loved it. It was a sprawling single story structure with a large finished basement. The master bedroom and bath was on one end of the house, secluded at the end of a long hallway with only one other room, an office, off the corridor. The master had its own four-season room that led to a wide deck that nearly spanned the entire length of the home. On the opposite end of the house were three bedrooms, two of which had a shared Jack and Jill bath and another bathroom in the hallway. The great room, open kitchen, and dining room separated the two sides of the home. It was an impressive home by any standards, and the location itself was worth a premium. He’d figured out that few homes on the island could boast such a private setting as this. The view from the living room and master bedroom was an expansive panoramic of the shoreline closed in on both sides by thick forest. Even the front of the home was secluded and sat back in the woods a good twenty-five yards from the road at the end of a winding driveway.

Once she’d shown him inside, she hung back in the kitchen, and he started snooping. Good thing given he’d lost control of his mouth once already. If he was going to commit to buying a home, he really was going to actually have to pay attention to one. He loved the master bedroom. He loved the privacy of the bedroom itself, and moreover the home in general. Privacy was an important thing to him. He’d lost it for a while in Chicago, and it had damaged him in some way—at the very least, it had complicated an already complicated situation.

He stood in the four-season room off the master, gazing out at the open water. There was six inches of pristine snow covering the ground around the vacant and quiet house, and as he zoned out in the empty room, he lifted his hands to the cool window pane, bracing himself with just his fingertips pushing against the glass. He let his forehead sink to the glass, feeling the chill spread from the pane to his skin, and he closed his eyes.

He’d wanted to kiss her for some time, and he was nearly shocked he’d not managed to destroy that reciprocation. He’d certainly made it difficult for her with his rollercoaster of emotional baggage. Groping her breast was perhaps a bit much. First kisses shouldn’t necessarily include nipples in his book, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he’d gotten a bit carried away. He also wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have ended up with her skirt around her waist and his pants at his ankles had fucking Randall not shown up when he did. He should likely be thanking the man for pulling him back from the brink.

As he passed through the great room to the other end of the house, she watched him with her elbows rested on the kitchen counter that separated the large kitchen from the room he was passing through, and her chin was cradled in her hands casually. He winked at her, and she smirked. Her lips were still pink, and she sucked the lower one into her mouth, letting it out slowly.

He shook his head for a moment. She wasn’t trying to be seductive in the least; she simply was by virtue of the fact that she was beautiful and authentic. It was a dangerous combination. She didn’t have to try to attract him.

He spent little time looking at the three other bedrooms, and when he returned to the great room, she was exactly as he’d left her—still watching him calmly with her pink lips taunting him. He ran to the basement, but the distraction was setting in again, and he was having a hard time concentrating. He pretended to look at the furnace, but he caught himself staring at the floor in front of it rather than actually looking at it—not that he knew a damn thing about furnaces aside from being glad they existed in the winter. He was also equally indifferent to the water heater, and beyond noticing it was gray in color, he couldn’t say anything else about it.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter in exactly the same place she had been the first time they were there, and as he leaned against the opposite counter, he studied her.