He hadn’t been this out of control with his responses since junior high, but he was powerless to stop it. Such simple touches shouldn’t be affecting him like this, but his body responded in hope that she would keep touching him, not stopping until he found release. At some point, he gave in, relaxed to the point where he was only semi-awake. Or so he convinced himself.
There would be no honorable intentions today. He’d be receptive to anything and everything she had in store. He gave into the push and pull of her warm, strong hands. Hands he’d thought were so small and fragile wielded amazing power over him. His closed eyelids felt heavy, too weighty to lift as her strokes became lighter.
Maybe he would sleep after all. She would be gone when he woke up and there would be no awkwardness, just the pure bliss of the moment. He tried to drift, but the aching hardness urgently pressing against his belly kept him on the edge. Her attentions drifted down his shoulders and back, to his buttocks. She must have removed the towel, but he hadn’t noticed exactly when. She kneaded lightly, building the intensity. He knew he should stop her, but he was so close. So close.
She traced his spine from his cleft to nape with her tongue. His eyes shot open as sensuous shivers shot through him like lightning. Her tongue retraced its path and he drew in a hard breath. Was it worth it to try to hold back? His body ached to accept the release she was offering. He closed his eyes again, finding it impossible to think when there was no blood left in his brain. She took mercy on him, removing his decision-making ability as she laid an open-mouthed kiss on the triangle of skin just above his buttocks. Her fingers massaged his butt as he came, prolonging his ecstasy as he rode the wave of the spasms.
He recognized the familiar weight of her body resting on top of him, and smiled. This was a perfect way to fall asleep—relaxed and sated in a room that smelled of her. He moaned as she placed warm kisses along the back of his neck. He breathed her in, enjoying her talents. How in the world had she ever learned to do that? Whatever it was, she should teach it in their class.
His eyes opened as he felt her pull away, rolling off him and off the bed. As she covered him with the comforter, he caught her wrist. “How do you know how to touch me?”
She took his hand in hers and knelt beside the bed. “You told me.”
He shook his tired head. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Your breathing. I listen to how you breathe, and you tell me.”
“You listen to me breathe?”
“Yes, sometimes I hear more when you breathe than when you talk.” He closed his eyes and listened to his breath. Ragged, shallow, and purposely slow. What did she hear in that? She ran her hand gently through his hair.
“Feel better?”
He nodded slowly, not wanting to open his eyes. He felt her lips softly pressing first one eyelid and then the other, and heard himself sigh. His eyes barely opened as she dropped his hand.
“Where are you going?” he asked sleepily.
“You sleep,” she said, crossing the room.
Stay, he heard in his head.
Chapter Eleven
David’s back didn’t hurt at all in the morning, making him wonder if it really had. He was second-guessing every feeling, every decision. Sophie had knocked him to the ground. Literally, figuratively, in every way possible. She was a mass of contradictions he couldn’t wrap his head around.
She was mad because he got her a car he couldn’t fit in, yet a few days later, she was evicting him from her life. He’d been more intimate with her than he’d ever been with a woman, yet she accused him of rejecting her. She’d said no more touching, then she hadn’t kept her hands off him. Not that he’d minded in the slightest.
Maybe she was playing a game with him, jerking him around for sport. Maybe this is what she did, why she’d gone out on so many dates last year. It was easily a different guy each week, sometimes two. He knew she’d dated. Craig had told him as much. What the hell was “I waited for you” supposed to mean anyway?
He shoved his hands deeper in his coat pockets and willed himself to pay attention. Deepening the real estate portfolio for SGI had been his idea completely, and he couldn’t even focus long enough to make it through a presentation. He’d barely even greeted the three friends he’d asked to come observe. Hopefully, they were too busy listening to details to notice how off he was.
The acquisitions director of SGI led David and six board members around the perimeter of the Taylor Center. The high-rise housed Strong Gym’s downtown location at street level, with offices, including eight floors of SGI’s corporate headquarters, on the seventeen floors above.
Two years ago, when he’d taken control of the company, he’d decided SGI should buy the building instead of continuing to lease the space. Broadening the company through real estate hadn’t been a popular idea with the older board members, but now that their holdings included seven high-rises in three states, the board was starting to sit up and take notice of the growing profit margin.
Not that he needed their approval anymore. For the first deal, his father had run interference and called in favors to get approval for the sale. But now, for the first time since his grandfather had taken on partners, a single person held the majority of the company shares and made the decisions. Him.
He’d achieved his career goal. There were still projects he wanted to accomplish, but his main objective of acquiring majority control of SGI was complete. It was time to reevaluate where he wanted the company to go. David was never satisfied with more of the same.
Expanding the company’s real estate investments was his mark on the corporation. He’d thought it would keep him sharp, striving for the next deal, but it had fallen a little flat, which was why he’d called a few friends to get their opinions. All of them were on their phones, whether from presentation boredom or because they had their own companies to run, he didn’t know.
He tried to listen about equity and growth potential. It seemed interesting enough to the board members, but David had read it word for word in the report last week. His gaze wandered across the street to the row of storefronts and caught a sign in the window of a travel agency.
Sophie probably hadn’t traveled much. There wouldn’t have been much time for that. Her youth had been filled with responsibilities, while his had been peppered with extravagant adventures like the safari for his sixteenth birthday or the summer in New Zealand after graduation. Sophie would like Europe, he decided with a nod of his head. She should take a Mediterranean cruise so she could sample a little of everything.
Where the hell had that just come from? He froze as the rest of the group turned the corner for a better view of the building elevation. From the emotional roller coaster that was last night, he could tell Sophie didn’t know what she wanted any more than he did. Or she’d realized he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
Falling in step behind the group, David tried to listen to the questions the board members asked. Tried and failed, as his attention was diverted by the sparkle of diamonds in a jewelry store window across the street. He shut his eyes tight against the glare. There was no way he was going there. What he felt for Sophie was a companionable fascination, bordering on obsession. No reason for a ring and a complete revision of his life plan.
Before opening his eyes, he turned, so as not to risk being tempted by the shine. He opened his eyes to see the grocery at the end of the street and a huge display of easy-peel oranges. It was as if the whole damned universe was conspiring against him.
…
“I haven’t eaten since I left New York, and I’m not eating diet food in your office again.” Cameron Price took a stand, even though he sat in a chair.
David understood completely. The last time he’d called in favors had been to discuss the Deliver-Ease venture, and in the beginning, the food had been more cafeteria than gourmet. He wondered if Craig had used Sophie to save the project, because there had been a hard shift from cardboard to edible. She’d been recipe testing muff
ins for him, which could mean checking the formula or developing the products herself.
“Yeah, if that’s what we’re doing, you suits can have at it and I’ll grab something on my way back to work.” Jake Tolliver checked his watch. The architect had warned David he wouldn’t be able to stay long.
“I get it guys,” David said before Curtis decided to chime in. “I ordered pizza and beer, like when we’d meet for Gibbon’s investment club. I want the quick and dirty about the buildings, nothing so formal or thought out that I have to pay you.”
“Well, if there’s beer, I’ll have the plane wait.” Curtis Frye settled in at the meeting table, undoing his cuff links, and rolling up his sleeves. Jake gave him the side-eye. “What? I have to get back to San Francisco. I can’t make a day out of it like Cam.”
“Don’t drag me into this.” Cameron spoke without looking up from his phone. “Our West Coast office has given me all kinds of shit to do. Which reminds me…” He turned his head and pinned David with his gaze. “I’m going to need you to return the favor.”
Ah, hell. “Me or my money?”
“You. This is an exercise system that wants us to invest so they can go nationwide. You’ll know immediately whether the project has traction, and if it does, you’ll want in. And don’t look at me like that. I’ve made you a lot of money.”
David schooled his features. He much preferred straight-up investing to sitting on the board of a developing business and having to be the voice of reason. He liked pushing his own board to broaden the horizons of the company. Being the heavy made him feel like one of the old guys.
His assistant knocked before entering, carrying a tub filled with beer bottles and ice. The pizza delivery driver followed him. They made short work of setting up lunch, and the aroma of garlic and oregano brought David back to Professor Gibbon’s investment club. Members weren’t invited because of their family names. The professor had seen a talent in them, something they brought to the table that could make the entire group successful. David had learned more from those meetings than from his business degree.
“Hot Lips?” Curtis shook his head like a kid refusing to eat his vegetables. “Is this some kind of ‘Keep Portland Weird’ pizza that’s going to have kale and granola?”
“That’s all we have here.” Jake finally cracked a smile. Those two loved playing who-has-a-bigger-attitude-problem. He grabbed a beer and offered it to Curtis. “Even our beer is organic.”
“Seriously,” Curtis said, placing his hand right on the giant lips logo. “What made you order pizza from a place called Hot Lips?”
Sophie. She’d suggested it right here in his office. Only, announcing that would steer the meeting in a whole other direction. And it wasn’t as if these guys would have any more idea than he did of what to do about the Sophie situation. For all of them, career goals trumped relationships.
“David, what’s going on with you?” Cam stared at him like he’d turned blue.
Focus. These guys might be his friends, but they’d come here for a reason, and it wasn’t to witness how his mind brought everything back to Sophie.
“Let’s eat before the pizza gets cold.” He picked up the smaller pizza box on top of the stack and opened it, showing the contents to the guys. “Pepperoni and pineapple, Gibbon’s favorite.”
“Pineapple on a pizza is wrong.” Cam opened a different box, the meat-covered heart attack on crust.
David shrugged and set the pie aside. “All right, guys, you know the drill. We’ll eat and then go around the table to hear everyone’s thoughts.”
“Wait.” Curtis dropped a slice onto a paper plate. “Are you thinking in terms of holding or developing?”
“Developing.” He nodded, decisive in that, at least.
“That’s a bigger risk,” Jake warned. “With anything you invest your time in, it should never be more than you can afford to lose.”
Cam grabbed another slice. “A bigger risk for a much more lucrative return.”
The sentiment echoed through his body, and his mind caught on Sophie like a scratched CD. It would be easier if he could do a risk/benefit analysis on her, on them, but there wasn’t a way to quantify it—the immense risk, the immeasurable payoff, and the inevitability of letting her go when she needed more than he could give.
Letting go—that would be the hard part. But if he couldn’t do that, he had no business accepting more from her.
…
This was never going to work. No matter how Sophie looked at it, she couldn’t make it fit. Something had to give. If the landlord raised their rent even a little, the club would be in the red. They were flirting with the line as it was.
Sophie scrolled through the budget sheets one more time, hoping for a miracle. Her meeting with the landlord was in two days, and the bastard always wanted more. Ever since Daphne had opened, he’d raised the rent every six months, per the ridiculous agreement Daphne had signed. She might have vision, but she completely lacked any business sense.
There was really nothing to prune from. All of the programs would be profitable if overhead weren’t so high. As it stood, the club would have to close shortly after Daphne returned from maternity leave.
“There has got to be something I haven’t thought of,” she mumbled to herself, blinking her dry eyes as she continued to stare at the monitor.
“You want me to take a look?”
She spun in her chair as David’s voice boomed from the doorway. He must have come from work. She mentally froze him there in his chocolaty slacks and toffee-colored dress shirt. In his hand, he had a box of easy-peel mandarins. Odd.
“I’m not as great with numbers as you are, but I do know my way around a financial statement.”
He looked delicious, and she was so hungry. “Are you trying to seduce me with produce again?”
He smiled and looked at the box. “I do seem to have a citrus thing with you, don’t I?”
Forcing her grin away, she turned back to her computer. She’d forgotten herself last night, but in the light of day, she’d be stronger. “You don’t have to bring me presents.”
“Sure I do.” He entered the office and cocked a hip against her desk. Just what she needed, a close-up view of exactly the treat she was missing. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Are you playing some kind of game with me?”
“Me?” She had to force herself not to shout. “If that’s your idea of a joke, it isn’t very funny.”
He leaned back on the desk, planting his hands on either side of his narrow hips. “I’m wondering what your hands-off speech was about, since it was immediately followed by some very hands-on time.” The man was nothing if not direct.
She hadn’t been able to help herself. Guilt had overwhelmed her as she’d driven him home. She’d honestly thought she could give him a massage without it turning into more. Of course, he’d been right. Subconsciously she’d been trying to seduce him. But she didn’t want him to know that.
“How is your back?” she asked, trying to look busy on the computer as she saved her work again and powered down.
“Never better. You didn’t answer me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked, shutting the lid of the laptop and looking anywhere but at him.
“Are you trying to manipulate me with sex?”
“We aren’t having sex,” she shot back too quickly, pinning him to the desk with her gaze. “Are you trying to manipulate me with money?”
“What? Where did that come from?”
“You bought me not one but two cars in the last week. And even though the truck is in my name, you left instructions with the dealership not to tell me how much it cost.”
“You actually called them?” He shook his head in what looked like disbelief.
“You had to know I would, or you wouldn’t have told them not to tell me.”
He nodded and grinned. “Just like I knew you would try to wire the money directly into my account because you know I wouldn’
t cash your check. The truck was a thank-you gift. It’s rude to ask how much a gift cost.”
“Fruit is a gift, David,” Sophie said, thumping the blue box for effect. “An SUV is a major purchase.”
“You’re telling me. I had to try and squeeze into every damn electric car in this town. It took all day.”
“Hybrid,” she corrected automatically. Just how many had he tested out?
“You drove it today?”
Was that even a question? She nodded and watched a smug expression cross his face. Of course she was driving it. She’d never had a brand new car in her life. She loved everything about it. It was big enough to make her feel safe, yet small enough to park easily. It didn’t use too much gas, and it was cute. He fit in it, and now she realized he’d spent all day picking it out. Of course she drove it.
She watched his fingers walk their way to hers. “Let me take you to dinner and talk you out of this no-touching rule you dreamed up.” She felt the heat coming off his hands, but there remained a hair’s distance between their fingers.
What had that woman in the steam room said? Raise your expectations so he’ll step up his game. Game on. “If you’re asking me for a real date, that requires advance notice.”
“You’re not seeing anyone else.”
Thanks for the reminder. “No, but I’m tired. I want to go home and put my feet up.” As his fingers retreated, so did her game plan. She couldn’t push her luck. It might push him away. “Come home with me. I’ll make you dinner, and we can talk.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were tired.”
“I am, but cooking relaxes me. You can help.”
“I can’t cook,” he said, shaking his head.
“There it is. Another item on the long list of things you won’t even let yourself try.”
He stood. “Should I bring the oranges or leave them here?”
Compromising Positions (Invested in Love) Page 14
