Me:I am currently having drinks with your father. He caught me right before I got to your elevator. And no, he doesn't know anything. But I'm stuck here.
The typing dots appear immediately and I have to bite back a grin, smiling politely at Jean-Pierre who's scrolling through his own phone, completely unaware.
Isabelle:OH MY GOD. AHHHHH! Okay be careful. This is actually insane. PLEASE don't get caught. EEEEK!
I laugh quietly and shove my phone back in my pocket. Jean-Pierre looks up.
"Everything alright?" he asks.
"Yeah, all good." I say.
"Alex," he says, leaning forward slightly, "about the restaurant. I was thinking about the kitchen layout we discussed. What if we..."
He launches into a detailed analysis of kitchen workflow and equipment placement, and I nod and engage with the conversation because I have no other choice, discussing the merits of different ventilation systems and prep station configurations. We get deep into the details of design, of menu development strategies and connecting with local suppliers and farmers in the Seattle area. My mind keeps drifting to Isabelle waiting for me, probably getting increasingly frustrated, possibly still using that vibrator, and it's actual torture knowing she's so close and completely inaccessible.
Finally, after what feels like years taken off my life expectancy, he slaps his hand on his knee decisively.
"Well, I'm tired and should turn in for the night," he says,standing and stretching, rolling his shoulders. "Long day tomorrow. More meetings. You heading up soon?"
I nod, staying seated to finish my drink. "Yep, I'll finish this and head to bed myself. Early drive tomorrow to get to Dark River. Want to hit the road by eight."
He nods, standing and buttoning his sweater. "It's been good, Alex. Really good. If I don't see you in the morning before you leave, I hope you enjoy visiting your home and your restaurant. And I'll see you when you get back to Seattle in a few days for the final walk-through meeting. But this has all gone remarkably well so far."
I smile and stand to shake his hand, gripping it firmly. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity. Really."
Squeezing my hand, he leans in slightly closer, his expression shifting to something more serious, more pointed. "Just remember what I told you before all this started, Alex. I'm glad you and Isabelle have gotten along professionally, developed mutual respect. But my position on the other matter hasn't changed at all. I like to remind people of important boundaries now and again, since people have a tendency to forget when things get comfortable." His eyes lock onto mine. "Don't even think about pursuing anything inappropriate with my daughter. Are we clear?"
I look up at him and smile my widest, most genuine smile, the one that's gotten me out of trouble my entire life. "Sir, I wouldn't dream of it."
Isabelle yanks me through the door, and I stumble inside, both of us immediately dissolving into slightly hysterical giggles like teenagers who just successfully snuck out past curfew. The door clicks shut behind us and she immediately throws the deadboltand the chain lock, then leans back against it, pure mischief in her eyes.
Sadly, she's put on a white silk robe over whatever she was wearing in that text, tied loosely at the waist, covering everything. But the fabric is thin enough that I can see the dark outline of her nipples through it, see the shadow of her body underneath.
"I thought we were absolutely done for down there," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. "I've never had a longer conversation in my entire life. He would not stop talking about kitchen ventilation systems."
"I was literally dying," she giggles against my chest, her whole body vibrating with suppressed laughter. "I was going insane the entire time waiting for you. Pacing. Checking my phone every thirty seconds like a lunatic. You're absolutely sure he didn't suspect anything?"
"No, he definitely doesn't know," I say, my hands sliding up her back over the smooth silk, my fingers finding the tie of her robe and tugging at it experimentally. "He made a pointed comment at the very end about me not pursuing you, reminding me of boundaries, but I think he was just repeating his original warning since we're all staying in the same hotel together. If he actually suspected something, he would have said it directly."
"Mmm, okay," she says, lifting up on her tiptoes and kissing me, soft and sweet at first, just a gentle press of lips.
I tug at the robe tie and it comes undone easily, the silk knot falling apart. I push the robe off her shoulders slowly and it slides down her arms, pooling at her feet in a puddle of white silk. I take a step back to actually look at her properly, to see what she's been teasing me about.
My mouth goes dry. All the air leaves my lungs.
She's wearing a deep sapphire blue nightgown that's almost entirely sheer lace, clinging to every single curve of her bodylike it was painted directly onto her skin. The lace is intricate and delicate, clearly expensive, with a floral pattern that does absolutely nothing to hide what's underneath.
Her nipples are clearly visible through the delicate fabric, dark pink and already hard, standing out against the blue lace. The lace continues down over her stomach, hugging her hips, ending mid-thigh with a scalloped edge, and I can see she's wearing absolutely nothing underneath it—the curve of her pussy and the neat dark hair above it clearly visible through the translucent material, every detail on display.
My mouth actually falls open.
"You like?" she asks, doing a slow, deliberate twirl, showing me every angle. The back is even better—the lace dips low, showing off the curve of her spine, and her ass looks absolutely incredible, the fabric riding up slightly to reveal the bottom curve of her cheeks, the lace stretched tight across them.
"Get over here. Right now," I say, my voice coming out rough and commanding and barely controlled, and I reach out and pull her forward by the hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh.
She giggles, putting up token resistance for about half a second, playfully pushing against my chest with her palms before melting into my arms completely, her body pressed against mine from chest to thigh, all that soft warm skin separated from me by just the thinnest layer of lace.
I kiss her deeply, hungrily, desperately, pouring all the frustration and pent-up desire into it. Barely being able to look at her properly, of sitting across conference tables and maintaining professional distance, of watching her talk and laugh and exist and not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to remind her that she's mine.