slid soundlessly open.
She saw him from the corner of her eye. She could almost swear she felt him.
Poised to run, almost in the turn, nearly pushing off, and instead, she swung back around, straightened and stepped into the elevator as though she had never, not even for a second, considered not doing so.
Turning, her back pressing against the side of the cubicle, she stared across the short distance into eyes that gleamed almost black, the color was so blue. In those eyes, she read his challenge. Was her head start over? Because he had clearly found her, and there was no doubt he was ready to reward her taking the elevator rather than running.
Reaching back, her fingers curled over the side rail, holding tight, holding back.
She heard someone curse, a low, furious sound. But it wasn’t Malachi. His lips weren’t moving. He was staring back at her, becoming as locked within the air of sensuality swirling around them as she was.
Her glaze flicked to his lips once more.
She wanted to kiss him. Just one kiss. Just a taste of that sensually full lower lip, a flick of her tongue against his.
Would she be satisfied with it?
Never. But it would ease the ache in her lips. Maybe.
The elevator felt as though it were moving in slow motion. She felt as though she were moving in slow motion.
She tried to keep her fingers locked around the side bar, tried to hold herself back.
There was no holding back from him.
Isabelle swore she could feel him urging her to him. His gaze was intense, a swirl of navy blue, an erotic storm brewing around them.
They weren’t there alone, but they could have been. They may as well have been. As far as Isabelle was concerned, Rule Breaker and Stygian Black didn’t even exist.
Her tongue slipped out, licking over her lips as the sudden vision of her going to her knees in front of him flashed across her mind.
Her gaze flicked to the front of the black mission-style pants he wore. They were formfitting, though not tight. Still, the bulge beneath them was unmistakable.
She swallowed tight. And it was large.
Her eyes came back to his. She forced them up, because she may wish she were there with him alone, but she knew she wasn’t.
Someone cleared his throat as she inhaled slowly, fighting for control. The taller, darker Breed blew out a rough breath. Neither Malachi nor Isabelle glanced toward him.
Her eyes moved to his hands. He was gripping the rail behind him, across from her. His knuckles white from the force of his grip.
The elevator came to a stop, the doors slid opened and a couple started in, stared at the Breeds and backed out. The doors slid closed again.
“Back up,” Malachi said. It was a rough, rasping sound as Stygian obviously pushed the right button. The elevator started up.
Malachi reached out then, pushed a button himself and Isabelle heard Rule growl his name. A real, male feline sound of irritation. The commander wasn’t happy.
Isabelle and Malachi both ignored him. The elevator stopped again.
“Do you really want to stay?” Malachi asked the two men without looking at them as the doors slid open again and no one moved.
No one except Isabelle.
Releasing the rail, she stepped across the distance separating them. She felt as though she were being drawn to him, pulled to him by some unseen force. His gaze held hers, his lashes lowering to half mast.
She was only distantly aware of the other two exiting the elevator. All that mattered to her was that they were gone. She didn’t have to hold herself back. She didn’t have to force herself not to touch him, taste him, kiss him.
She wanted that kiss. The kiss she had dreamed of. A kiss she had been certain she would never feel.
Moving to him, her hands braced against his chest, she went on tiptoe, but without his help, if he hadn’t lowered his head, it wouldn’t have happened.
Her hands slid to his shoulders, one against his neck as she felt the warmth of his breath against her lips.
“I caught you,” he
She saw him from the corner of her eye. She could almost swear she felt him.
Poised to run, almost in the turn, nearly pushing off, and instead, she swung back around, straightened and stepped into the elevator as though she had never, not even for a second, considered not doing so.
Turning, her back pressing against the side of the cubicle, she stared across the short distance into eyes that gleamed almost black, the color was so blue. In those eyes, she read his challenge. Was her head start over? Because he had clearly found her, and there was no doubt he was ready to reward her taking the elevator rather than running.
Reaching back, her fingers curled over the side rail, holding tight, holding back.
She heard someone curse, a low, furious sound. But it wasn’t Malachi. His lips weren’t moving. He was staring back at her, becoming as locked within the air of sensuality swirling around them as she was.
Her glaze flicked to his lips once more.
She wanted to kiss him. Just one kiss. Just a taste of that sensually full lower lip, a flick of her tongue against his.
Would she be satisfied with it?
Never. But it would ease the ache in her lips. Maybe.
The elevator felt as though it were moving in slow motion. She felt as though she were moving in slow motion.
She tried to keep her fingers locked around the side bar, tried to hold herself back.
There was no holding back from him.
Isabelle swore she could feel him urging her to him. His gaze was intense, a swirl of navy blue, an erotic storm brewing around them.
They weren’t there alone, but they could have been. They may as well have been. As far as Isabelle was concerned, Rule Breaker and Stygian Black didn’t even exist.
Her tongue slipped out, licking over her lips as the sudden vision of her going to her knees in front of him flashed across her mind.
Her gaze flicked to the front of the black mission-style pants he wore. They were formfitting, though not tight. Still, the bulge beneath them was unmistakable.
She swallowed tight. And it was large.
Her eyes came back to his. She forced them up, because she may wish she were there with him alone, but she knew she wasn’t.
Someone cleared his throat as she inhaled slowly, fighting for control. The taller, darker Breed blew out a rough breath. Neither Malachi nor Isabelle glanced toward him.
Her eyes moved to his hands. He was gripping the rail behind him, across from her. His knuckles white from the force of his grip.
The elevator came to a stop, the doors slid opened and a couple started in, stared at the Breeds and backed out. The doors slid closed again.
“Back up,” Malachi said. It was a rough, rasping sound as Stygian obviously pushed the right button. The elevator started up.
Malachi reached out then, pushed a button himself and Isabelle heard Rule growl his name. A real, male feline sound of irritation. The commander wasn’t happy.
Isabelle and Malachi both ignored him. The elevator stopped again.
“Do you really want to stay?” Malachi asked the two men without looking at them as the doors slid open again and no one moved.
No one except Isabelle.
Releasing the rail, she stepped across the distance separating them. She felt as though she were being drawn to him, pulled to him by some unseen force. His gaze held hers, his lashes lowering to half mast.
She was only distantly aware of the other two exiting the elevator. All that mattered to her was that they were gone. She didn’t have to hold herself back. She didn’t have to force herself not to touch him, taste him, kiss him.
She wanted that kiss. The kiss she had dreamed of. A kiss she had been certain she would never feel.
Moving to him, her hands braced against his chest, she went on tiptoe, but without his help, if he hadn’t lowered his head, it wouldn’t have happened.
Her hands slid to his shoulders, one against his neck as she felt the warmth of his breath against her lips.
“I caught you,” he
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