Flynn’s arm tightened around her as his hips slammed into her. “Jesus,” he groaned and came in a wild thrusting climax. Izzy braced herself and took the brunt of his passionate release, absorbing his body heat, his semen, and his hot breath.
His hips slowed until she hung in his arms, their bodies still connected, the waves below crashing with more velocity against the beach than they had earlier. As the sun began to dip toward the horizon they continued to stand there, still connected, their comingled sex-induced fluids trickling down the inside of her thighs and she didn’t care. To her it was proof of the power they generated. Damn, she thought, if she weren’t on the pill, she bet his sperm would descend on her eggs with the force of an atom bomb.
“That,” she breathed, “was epic.”
He pulled out and moved back just enough so that he could turn her around. He perched her on the edge of the railing and moved between her parted knees. His blue eyes dark, nearly black. His handsome face softened with the afterglow of their powerful sex.
He dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her lips up to his and lightly brushed them. “I want to make love to you.”
Her lips parted and her belly did a slow nervous roll. “I want that, too.”
He smiled slowly and pressed her head to his chest and stroked her hair as he looked past her to the ocean. “How do you feel?”
“Like the luckiest girl in California.”
“I mean down there.”
“Oh, tender, but okay.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” The steady thud of his heart against her cheek served as a reminder that he was human and therefore vulnerable. Maybe as much as she was? Something had changed since the time they walked into the room and now. Though sex had brought them together, she felt as if their connection was beginning to transcend it. At least for her it was. She wanted to know everything about this man. From his favorite food to what kept him up at night. Would he share that part of him? There was only one way to find out. “What scares you?” she softly asked.
He didn’t answer immediately but when he did, his answer surprised her. “Hurting someone I love.”
Moving back she looked up into his eyes. It was like looking at the sky, they were so blue. “If you truly love someone, you accept all of them, and in that, you can’t hurt them.”
His lips quirked. “For such a youngster, that’s pretty deep stuff.”
She’d experienced a lot of heartache and hardship in her life. Sometimes she felt ancient. “I’m young, but I’ve been through a lot.”
“What scares you?”
“Not being enough.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Damn it.
“Enough for what?”
She closed her eyes. Enough for someone not to care where she came from. Or how she came to be. To take her for who she was, warts and all. But she didn’t say it. It sounded childish to her. “Enough to take a chance on.” A partial truth.
“What happened between your parents?”
Shaking her head, Izzy exhaled and tried to shimmy off the edge of the railing, but Flynn’s arms tightened around her. “Tell me.”
Swallowing hard, she decided to tell him the truth. It’s what she wanted from him; he deserved the same from her. “My mom was the illegal Mexican housekeeper who knew all of the Chastain’s dirty secrets. She was promoted to nanny when my dad and his wife got pregnant with my half brother. But he died. And my dear father, the congressman, in his despair took gross advantage of my mother. Not once, but for years he came to her. I was the proof. I had no idea. I was told my father died before I was born. Eventually, my father’s wife put two and two together. I was eleven when she figured it out. We were kicked to the curb, my mom threatened with deportation.” Her voice hitched. “It was the second-worst day in my life. After that, Momma worked twenty-hour days, cleaning houses during the day and offices at night. From the age of eleven, I worked after school trying to contribute so she didn’t have to work so hard. She died with a damn dust rag in her hand.” Izzy laughed bitterly. “The day after she died, I took that damn rag and threw it at my father’s face and told him she was dead and he could take his threats and shove them up his ass. I told him if he ever came after me for anything, I’d tell the world what he’d done.”
Compassion shone in Flynn’s eyes, not pity. Pity she would never accept. “How old were you when your mom died?” he asked.
“Sixteen.”
“I was sixteen when my mom died.”
“I’m sorry.” The urge to cradle his head to her heart overcame her. She resisted, afraid he wouldn’t be comfortable with it. “Our moms died when we were both sixteen.” Smiling sadly up at him, Izzy said, “If you loved your mom like I loved my mom, I know how hard it hurt and still hurts.”
“I loved her a lot.”
“How did she die?”
His lips tightened and he took his time with his answer. “Of a broken heart.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like we both have douchebag sperm donors.”
He cracked a small smile. “So the senator knows you’re his daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
He was silent for a long time. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve written off the Chastains.”
“Then why search for your sister?”
“Because that’s what a big sister does.”
“What is she like?”
“Gorgeous, bright, talented. Alex excelled at everything she did. The perfect daughter. Until she went off the deep end.” Izzy laughed, the sound harsh. “Oh how daddy dearest must have had a coronary when he found out she was stripping. Oh no, not the beautiful senator’s daughter. That was what he’d expect of his dirty little secret, Isadora, but not the amazing Alexandra.” She choked back a sob. “Who am I to disappoint him?”
Flynn shifted uncomfortably. “So you’re saying you did it because it was expected? Not as a means to getting information on your sister?”
“I did it because I choose to do it.” She pushed off of him and strode past him into the suite. She turned at the threshold and said, “And Flynn? If you have a problem with it, tell me now so we won’t waste our time pretending it doesn’t.”
She didn’t tell Flynn about her education or career path. A part of her was afraid her truth wasn’t good enough for him. It was easier for him to think she was the love child of an illegal immigrant the boss had knocked up, because she had no control over that. But she did control what she did at the club. That way, when he got tired of her, he’d use her lack of pedigree and job choice as his excuse. That rejection she could handle. It was what she had lived with all her life. She understood it.
She turned to continue into the room.
“Isadora,” he said, his voice commanding. “Come here.”
Swallowing hard, she turned. Chin up, back straight, she faced him. He stood at the edge of the terrace, the fading sun haloing him in a warm orange glow. Her heart did a slow stutter beat. He was so beautiful she had no words to describe him in her mind. That he wanted her, thinking she was a ding-dong cocktail server who had flashed her boobs to his friends, and was still willing to help her find Alex, went miles in her good book. It scared the living shit out of her, too. She’d had enough disappointments to last a lifetime.
“I don’t want to.” She felt fragile now, and if she went to him, he would touch her, and she’d melt. She needed to be strong. He was getting too deep under her skin.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid when you find out who I really am, you won’t like me.”