by Mari Carr
“Is this the cousin who lives in Seattle?” Jayne asked.
Sophie nodded. “Yep. I’m taking a little road trip tomorrow. Borrowing Casey’s truck to pick up all the stuff. I’ll be gone most of the day. Actually, between now and the auction, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be around the bar.”
Stephanie threw her a quick wave of the hand. “We can cover for you. We’re closing the day before and of the auction anyway to set stuff up. If the cleanup looks too daunting, we’ll close the day after too, so don’t worry about it. We’re good to go on this.”
Jordan agreed. “Yep. No problem. I’ve been meaning to tell you how great I think it is that you’re working so hard to save the community center. I love that place. It would be hard to picture this city without it.”
“I think you’re brave to stand up to your dad,” Jayne chimed in.
“Brave nothing,” Stephanie said with a big grin. “Our social butterfly is turning into queen of the ball-busters. I have to admit I prefer this new you.”
“Yeah right. Well, don’t be too impressed. Inside, I’m a nervous wreck. What if we don’t make enough money?”
Jordan glanced over when one of the two male customers waved for their attention. “You will. Gabe was talking about it last night. He said if anyone could do it, you could.” Jordan walked over to grab the men’s empty glasses and nodded when they asked for another round.
Sophie took a deep breath and smiled.
Positive thinking. That was all she needed. A little positive thinking.
The auction would be a success.
They’d raise the needed money for the center.
She’d show her father that personal is always better than business.
And she’d forget all about Marc Garrett.
Hopefully.
* * * * *
The night of the auction arrived far too quickly for Sophie. Marc had called exactly twice since the last time they’d seen each other, both times to check in about the progress on the fundraiser. His tone had been casual and friendly, but he’d made no mention of seeing her. Instead, he’d talked about how busy he was with the trial and how sorry he was he couldn’t help more as she planned the event. It was like listening to herself whenever a guy failed to get the hint that she wasn’t interested.
Fuck him was becoming her standard line. Anytime she felt depressed about his rejection, she just took a deep breath and said, “Fuck him.”
“Who are we fucking?” Jordan asked.
Sophie grinned. “No one. Unfortunately.”
“Speak for yourself.” Jordan was the current poster child for sexually-active-and-loving-every-second-of-it women everywhere. It made Sophie want to scratch her drowsy, I-was-up-all-night-screwing-two-hot-guys eyes out.
“Bitch.”
Jordan laughed and continued arranging the chairs in rows.
Sophie had just finished stringing a line of lights around the stage when Marc walked in. As one of the night’s eligible bachelors, he was dressed to the nines in a tuxedo. Sophie tried to ignore the parts of her body that stood up and took notice of how fucking hot he looked.
More than once, she’d wondered if he was putting distance between them as a way of keeping his options open for tonight. “Asshole,” she muttered, praying she could summon the strength to play it cool.
Marc waved to her from the front door then made a beeline for the bar.
Great. On top of being an asshole, he was a coward, maybe even a drunk. She adjusted the microphone, doing a quick sound check while composing a list of unflattering descriptions for the attorney in her head.
Arrogant. Cocky. Annoying. Liar. Attractive. Funny. Smart.
Shit.
Stupid list.
She stepped off the stage as Marc approached. She took a deep breath and girded her loins, as Jayne—the romance-reading queen—liked to say.
“Here.” Marc handed her a drink.
She took the glass without thinking. “What’s this?”
“Some concoction Stephanie whipped up for me at the bar. It’s called Bachelor’s Bait.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
“In case you failed to remember, I’m running this shindig tonight. I can’t do that if I’m half lit.”
“Take a drink, princess. I can tell you’re uptight. It might relax you a bit.”
She narrowed her eyes. He had some nerve trying to tell her to do anything. He’d avoided her for almost a month. Gotten a freaking blowjob and then blown her off. “Listen, Marc, I don’t appreciate—”
He kissed her before she could finish properly eviscerating him. “I’m sorry, Soph. More sorry than I can say.”
“For what?”
“I’ve picked up the phone at least twenty times a day these past few weeks to call you, but every time I started to dial I got interrupted. My life has been a living hell—constant work and family issues. I spent four nights sleeping at the desk in my office.”
“I thought you quit your job at the big law firm to avoid the all-work-and-no-play lifestyle.”
Marc nodded. “I did. And for the most part, the move worked. Occasionally though, major things hit at the same time and I end up paying for it for a few weeks before they settle back down. Figures my work life would go to hell just as my personal life is starting to look up.”
“Oh?” She tried to play coy. “What’s going on in your personal life that’s so special?”
He gripped her waist, pulling her closer. She stiffened, refusing to lean into him, regardless of how good he smelled. “You. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and it’s driving me nuts. I told myself I wouldn’t call you again until I had time to see you, be with you, strip off all your clothes and have sex with you all night long.”
She was weakening and it pissed her off. She wanted to stay mad, continue to play the indignant card. Rather than acknowledge his apology, she lifted the drink and took a big swig without thinking. The foul taste hit her hard.
Slapping her hand over her mouth, she forced herself to swallow before handing him the glass. “Holy. Crap. What the hell is in that?”
Marc shrugged. “I don’t know. Something with gin. Looked like egg whites, maybe.”
“Raw egg? Gross!”
Marc chuckled, taking the glass from her and putting it on the edge of the stage. He took her hand and she started to slap it away before realizing he wasn’t trying to hold it—he was giving her something.
She looked down as he placed a huge wad of cash into her hand.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s five hundred dollars. I want you to bid on me.”
She frowned. While his apology had gone a long way toward alleviating some of her anxieties and soothing a small part of her wounded pride, she wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. “What if I don’t want to bid on you? I happen to know there’s a very hot optometrist coming tonight. I can totally see myself with him.”
“No pun intended, I’m sure.” Marc lifted her hand, closing her fingers over the money she was trying to return to him. “Bid on me, Sophie. Give me a chance to make things up to you. You won’t be sorry. I promise.”
She continued to hold his money out but Marc shoved his hands in his pockets, refusing to accept it. “Even if I were to bid—and I’m not saying I’ll bid on you—I have my own money to spend.”
“I want to contribute to the charity, but obviously I don’t plan to buy a bachelor to do it. Throw my money in with whatever you’d intended to spend on me. I’m worth every penny.” He gave her a cocky wink.
“Ugh. You are so annoying. I have work to do.”
She started to walk away but Marc pulled her back. Her traitorous body moved toward him, eyes drifting closed as he placed a soft kiss on her lips. Moving away an infinitesimal degree, he whispered to her, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “Put the high bid on me and our date starts tonight. I’m taking you back to my place. I’m going to unzip that sexy dress you�
“What about the trial?”
“It ended today.”
“Family drama?”
“Also resolved. Cancer scare with my mom. She got the all-clear on the biopsy two days ago.”
Sophie officially felt like shit for every bad thought she’d had about Marc. “Thank God for that.”
“I’m going to keep you in my bed for days, weeks, maybe months.”
She released a short, breathless laugh. “Big words. Sure you’re up for it?”
He pressed their bodies closer together, letting her feel just how up he was. His erection brushed against her stomach and she fought to restrain a groan. Her pussy was wet, throbbing, tired of being empty.
“I’m going to take you hard and fast the first time. I need you that much. We’ll be damn lucky if we make it to my bedroom. Hell, my house might be too far away.”
Sophie’s eyes remained closed, soaking in each sexy word. She’d wasted far too many hours fantasizing over him as well. She wanted every single thing he promised, but still, self-preservation held her aloof. “So that’s my big date if I win? You’re going to show me the inside of your bedroom?”
“Christ. I’ll wine and dine you if you want. Buy you a fur coat, a condo, a kitten, anything. Just bid on me, Sophia. Put me out of my misery.”
She expected to see more arrogance on his face. Instead she saw pure, genuine need. Unable to resist, she closed the distance between them, initiating the kiss. She wasn’t in the mood for gentle caresses. He’d lit a flame inside her in his office. Since then it had smoldered and grown. Tonight, an inferno raged.
His fingers tightened on her hips as she forced his lips apart with hers, dipping her tongue inside his mouth. Obviously he hadn’t tried the vile drink Stephanie had made. He tasted like Scotch. It was delicious, sweet, heady.
“Ahem,” came a voice next to them. “I think it’s bad form to steal a bachelor before the auction.”
Sophie and Marc parted. Stephanie stood next to them, gesturing toward the door. Several women were gathering outside, waiting to come in.
Marc’s hand still rested on Sophie’s waist. He stroked her with his thumb, drawing small circles that turned her on as much as his kisses. “I’ll head upstairs to wait with the other bachelors. See you later, princess.”
She heard the double meaning behind his farewell. There was no doubt in her mind exactly how much of each other they’d be seeing. She glanced at his ass as he left.
Oh yeah. She intended to see it all.
“Don’t make me throw a bucket of cold water on you,” Stephanie threatened.
Sophie grinned, certain she looked like a lovesick fool. Shit, she felt like one.
“Thought you were mad at the asshole for not calling.”
“He apologized.”
Stephanie nodded slowly. “Sophie, I’m a little worried about you with this guy. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so…”
“Interested?” God knew she’d never spared a second glance for any of the men her father had deemed worthy of her time.
Stephanie shrugged. “I guess that works. I was sort of thinking you’ve fallen ass over tit for him.”
Sophie laughed. “Christ, Steph. Only you could take a romantic phrase like head over heels and make it raunchy. And for your information, I’m not falling. I’m horny. Marc’s offered the most promising proposition I’ve had for sex in a long time.”
“Liar, liar, thong on fire. Pretend it’s just sex if you want, but…” Stephanie paused. Her friend was never at a loss for words. “Just…be careful. Okay?”
Sophie appreciated the advice, praying she wasn’t making a fool of herself. “I will.”
“Soph,” Jayne called out from across the bar. “Can I open the doors? The natives are getting restless.”
She looked at the growing pack of women standing outside Books and Brew. Patricia had done an amazing job spreading the word. The event was certain to be standing room only. The bachelors had baited their hooks and now they just had to reel in the dough.
Sophie considered her own plans for one particular handsome bachelor. She’d prepared for this event for weeks. Now it was here and she wished it were over.
Her hand tightened on the money Marc had handed her and she smiled.
Let the bidding begin.
Chapter Five
Marc pulled onto his street and glanced over at the passenger seat. Sophie had been uncharacteristically quiet since they’d left Books and Brew. He’d known walking into the event tonight that he owed her an apology. He’d never bungled the beginning of a relationship so badly.
Relationship. It had taken him nearly the entire month he and Sophie had been apart to admit that was what he wanted. He had thought she’d represented everything he’d spent most of his adult life trying to escape—family name, social status, pursuit of wealth. When he left the law firm, it was because he was sick of being surrounded by country-club mentalities, pursued by women who wanted him only because he had money. Marc had failed to tell Sophie his family was every bit as wealthy as hers. He’d let her believe he was a struggling attorney.
And she hadn’t cared. She’d still called him, still come around offering friendship and help to save the community center and the sweetest kisses he’d ever received.
He’d been worried earlier that he’d driven her away with his distance. There was a wicked streak inside her that hadn’t been willing to let him off the hook easily. She’d set up the auction so that he’d followed the optometrist, who—much to his dismay—was extremely attractive. While Marc waited in the wings for his turn on stage, he’d had to watch Sophie and Patricia enter a bidding war for the hot doctor. Sophie had taken the bid all the way up to five hundred dollars before bowing out.
Then she’d made him sweat it out on stage, silently watching as two overeager cougars in the front row placed bid after bid on him. For a painful moment, he’d thought she was going to let one of the ladies win when the auctioneer said, “Going once, going twice…”
Sophie had finally raised her hand and slapped down all his money and a fair amount of her own to win the bid.
“Tired?” he asked. Her silence was slightly unnerving.
She looked at him and shook her head. “No. Not at all.”
“Are you still mad at me, Soph?” If she was, why had she bid on him, accepted his arm after the auction and followed him to his truck, knowing where he intended to take her?
“No. I’m not.”
Another short, unsatisfying answer. Marc turned into his driveway but didn’t turn off the truck. His sixth sense was kicking. Something was up. “Do you want to come inside?”
She turned in the seat until she faced him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Why are you here?” The question slipped from his lips. He hadn’t meant to speak it aloud, but tonight felt like way more than a hookup to him. Suddenly he was feeling guilty about deceiving Sophie about his family, his financial situation.
“You said at Books and Brew that you couldn’t stop thinking about me. I appear to be in the same boat. I want you, Marc. Physically, my body almost aches. But more than that, I like you. You’re smart and funny and I’m sort of hoping this is headed somewhere—other than just your bed. Please tell me you’re not playing me for a fool.”
“Get out of the truck.”
She blinked. “What?”
Marc didn’t bother wasting time repeating himself. He crossed in front of the truck and pulled her door open. She started to step down, but he was too impatient. He gripped her hips as she exited, moving them slightly to the left then pushing her against the side of the vehicle. His lips found hers in an instant and Sophie was there—waiting for him.
“You’re not a fool. If anything, you’re too damn good for me.”
Then he kissed her hard, unable to find the words to convince her he was sincere. He was a lawyer, for God’s sake. Words were his weapon. But tonight, right now, he couldn’t find a single syllable that would fully express how he felt about her.
So he’d have to rely on instinct. He deepened the kiss, loving the way Sophie’s arms gripped him tightly. She seemed to be driven by the same intense need, the hunger that begged for more. For everything.
His hands slipped lower, cupping her breasts. Sophie groaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. He squeezed the generous flesh, slowly applying pressure until Sophie pulled away, gasping for air.
He studied her flushed face, her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Take me inside, Marc, or your neighbors are about to get one hell of a show.”
He closed the passenger door and grasped her hand, tugging her quickly to the front door. The second he shut them inside, he pushed her against the door and kissed her again.
“You drive me crazy, princess. Fucking out of my mind.”
She giggled softly. “I know the feeling. Bedroom?”
“Not sure I can make it.” He reached down and grabbed her ass, tugging until she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her short dress rode up, clearing the way for his pleasure. The door supported most of her weight as he pressed his covered cock against her pussy, slowly grinding against her twice, three times, letting her feel the extent of his need.
She tightened her legs around him. “God, Marc. Stop teasing me. Need you. Now.”
Her words were a catalyst. He wanted to hold back, to take his time and do this right, but the reality was he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
He shoved the thin strap of her thong aside and pushed two fingers inside her wet heat. Sophie’s fingers dug into his upper arms almost painfully.
“Yes,” she hissed. “Harder. Please. Harder…”
He began thrusting his fingers inside her, adding a third. She was tight, wet, ready. He stroked her clit with his thumb while his other hand supported her weight, gripping her ass. Holding on became harder as Sophie began gyrating, trying to force his fingers even deeper.
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