So, she guessed that was sort of comforting. But why did it matter? Why did she need to know now? Knowing would only make her think of the faceless, nameless women Donovan had bedded. And might make him think of them, too.
Plus, she’d already announced they were biding time until he left. Wasn’t like they were permanent. Pain crept into her chest and she willed it away.
What does it matter?
It doesn’t, she decided, focusing instead on what he’d said before that.
Could eat off me.
Mmm. She could.
Rough hands moved up and down her torso and this time, Sofie raised her ankles, crossed them over his back, and pulled him closer. His lips twitched with surprise. Probably thinking he was off the hook.
He was.
Getting him to say a number, admit there was even one girl in his bed since her, hurt her in a way that wasn’t logical. Because she wasn’t going to be with Donovan forever. She was going to be with him now. And hopefully a few more times before he left town. Once he was gone, he could go be with fifty more women—at once if he wanted.
He wouldn’t be her concern.
There was a certain freedom in knowing he was leaving. She thought about Faith’s speech about power, understanding her point. Caring was powerful. But not caring? That was just as powerful—maybe more. Sofie could use a dab of power to fortify her resolve. A whole truckload.
“There’s no one now. No one but you,” he said.
“Same,” she returned.
He teased her with a kiss. “No more Scott Torsett?”
A chuckle tumbled in her throat. “Not unless I want to see his nose broken next time I see him.”
“Naw.” Donovan kissed her jaw, then a path down her neck. “I was going to break his fingers.”
That shouldn’t be sexy. But it so was.
She had Donovan until he went back to New York. He’d leave like he did last time, but at least she knew he was leaving. She knew now, knew going in. That was something.
That was everything.
Tilting her head, she let his lips work down her neck, to her collarbone, until he took her breast in his mouth again. She arched her back, sensations electrocuting her limbs as she squirmed on the narrow table he’d plunked her onto.
“Hope this holds me,” she muttered absently.
He let her go, his lips leaving her skin, his expression not happy.
“You think you’re fat for some reason, and I’m telling you, Scampi, it’s starting to piss me off.”
“I didn’t say I was fat. But I know I’m not built like Faith.”
“No. Neither am I.”
Grasping her thighs, he spun her so she was lying lengthwise on the table, unbuttoned her pants, and drew down the zipper.
“Donny.”
“Let me look at how beautiful you are.”
Leaning on her elbows, she allowed him to tug her pants off, stunned absolutely speechless. Beautiful? She’d been told she had pretty hair. She’d been called cute. And her aunt Kay always told her she had a “healthy” build. Sofie knew she wasn’t obese, but she also knew in the hip/butt area, she could stand to drop a few inches.
But beautiful? Donny was beautiful. Practically a work of art. But her?
“Do you mean that?” she asked.
He tossed her pants aside and reached for her panties. She watched his eyes wander up and down her body. In response, her skin tightened.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I—”
“Zero.” His eyes left hers as he worked her panties down her legs. “Do you believe that?”
“Zero?” Surely he couldn’t mean…
Climbing halfway up her body, he flattened his palms on the table and got in her face. “You, Sofia Martin. You are who I’ve had in the seven years since I’ve had you. Yesterday in the laundry room. And here, in about ten seconds.”
Her mouth dropped open, went dry. She blinked.
“Lie back.”
“Donny—”
His fingers found her folds and stroked, long and slow. She was wet in an instant.
“Scampi. Lie back.”
Over her, his hair tickled her face and neck and chest while he kissed her body, his fingers wandering, slipping, sliding.
Sofie decided to let it go. To let the whole thing go. If he was lying about her being beautiful or that she was the last person he’d slept with, things would be almost simpler. She couldn’t handle that information right now. Didn’t know what to do with it. Problem was, she didn’t think he was lying.
While he worked her into a lather, she panted her approval. Moving her hands to his pants, she undid them and reached inside.
A brief male grunt came from his perfect mouth.
“Explains why you were trying to hold out,” she said.
His tongue delved into her belly button and she nearly shot off the table.
“Building endurance takes practice,” came his heated breath on her skin.
He was getting really close to—oh no. Not that. With her free hand, she moved his head back up her body.
“Not there.” She was not mentally ready for that. His face between her legs was so… so… personal.
Donny didn’t argue, only continued to move his talented fingers between her legs, relocating his tongue to her breast.
After many panting, pleading moments, she clutched. He didn’t let up until she threw her head back and climaxed, mind dissolving, her every muscle tensing. Only when he moved his mouth on hers did she come back to herself and realize her hand was still in his pants. She gave him a gentle squeeze. His penis throbbed, no doubt painfully.
“You,” she said weakly, coming back down from yet another amazing orgasm. Wow. He was spoiling her.
“If you insist.” He kissed her.
Oh, she insisted. Turning on her side, she wrapped him in one hand, stroking him while he hovered over her. A few minutes later, he found his own release, both hands flat on the table on either side of her. The sheer force of his reaction blew her away—the way his entire body coiled. The way his lips froze over hers, open and letting loose a deep, reverent sigh. The way the muscles in his arms, the tendons in his neck, tightened. The way his long, black eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
Continuing to stroke him long after he’d let go, she basked in the awe of the hold she had on him.
He snagged her arm to stop her movements. His eyes opened. He licked his lips, his voice a broken whisper when he spoke.
“Damn, woman.”
She smiled.
Power. She had it.
He dropped his head on her chest, bent over her for several long seconds. She’d buckled his knees. Again. Amazing. Unable to keep from it, she stroked his hair, feeling his breath on her stomach like she did yesterday.
“We do it on appliances and furniture,” she pointed out.
“No bed.”
Her fingers stilled in his hair. “You don’t have a bed?”
Standing, he took her hands and helped her off the table. He grabbed up his T-shirt, turning his back while he cleaned himself up, then zipped his pants.
“Not staying.”
There it was.
The undeniable truth said out loud. Echoing through the great room while she clasped her bra, turned her underwear right side out and put them on.
“You’ll be here a while, though,” she mumbled.
Where was her shirt? She pulled on her pants, snapped them, then her shirt appeared in front of her face. A second later, a third voice sliced into the air.
“Good God.”
The voice from the doorway startled Sofie so much, she yipped. Actually yipped.
Connor stood in the threshold, palm over his eyes. “You need to start putting a sock on the doorknob, man.”
“My house,” Donovan answered as Sofie hid behind him and scrambled into her shirt.
She arranged her hair and stepped out from behind Donovan. “Safe.”
&nbs
p; Connor dropped his hand from his eyes and gave Sofie a perfunctory glance. “Dog needs dinner.”
“Gertie,” Sofie corrected.
“Dog’s food is in the utility room.” Donovan’s eyes slid to hers.
“Yeah. About that. Not that I overheard much yesterday, but the hallway to the indoor greenhouse is attached to the utility room and—”
Yesterday. The utility room. No, no. This was not good. Sofie knew from the heat infusing her cheeks her complexion was a hectic mess of red and pink.
“In your defense,” Connor told her with a crooked grin, “I like s’mores.”
She hid her face in her palms.
“You’re a dick,” Donovan told him, but he sounded like he was smiling.
Damn male pride.
“I need dinner, too,” Connor said.
“Leftover lasagna in the fridge.”
Yep, carry on. Meanwhile, I’ll just stand here and die of embarrassment.
“Got it.” Connor snapped his fingers and Gertie, who’d poked her nose into the room, followed on his heels. At least from what Sofie could see from between her parted fingers.
Donovan pulled her hands away from her face and tugged her close. “Dinner?”
Like she could sit across from Connor McClain knowing he’d seen her in her bra today, and had heard her moaning yesterday.
“No, I uh, I’ve got to get back.”
“Okay.”
No argument. But what did she expect? Her tender heart ached. And that, she decided, was something she would not tolerate. The moment her “feelings” entered the equation, she needed to knock them off and move along, little doggie.
“Working here tomorrow?” His voice was calm, face placid, clearly not sharing her plight of too much thought.
“In my office,” she said through a thick layer of disappointment. She really didn’t want to come back to reality yet. But that was all there was. The reality of a very big project intermixed with the knowledge Donovan Pate hadn’t slept with a single person in seven years.
Gosh. Why not?
Frustrated because she was still overthinking, she scrubbed her forehead with one hand. “I have to call about a dozen people, finalize plans with the party decorator, give the caterer the final count, and nail down that darned DJ.” She dropped her hand and rolled her eyes. “Not to mention—”
Donovan’s mouth came down hard on hers. She caught his angled jaw with her hands and accepted his tongue, her worries dissipating with each sensual slide. By the time she was clawing his back for more, she had to pull back to take a breath.
“That help you forget your problems?” His voice was low and rumbly, his firm lips damp.
Her hand had come to rest on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. “Yeah.”
He kissed her again. “Rain check on doing me,” he said against her lips.
How was he this sexy? So consistently? Losing the battle of worry and shame, she smiled. “Thought that’s what I just did.”
“Appreciate it, Scampi, but I want all of you next time.”
Next time. She liked the sound of that.
Too much.
“Incoming,” Faith said at the same time the bell dinged over Make It an Event’s front door.
Sofie turned, coffee cup in hand, to see Donovan stride in on those long legs of his. Every inch of him looked good enough to eat, and she would know since she went to bed last night starving for him.
Sad, but true. She had so jumped from frying pan to fire.
Standing, she allowed her eyes to graze his charcoal gray T-shirt, cut in a V over the smattering of chest hair she’d admired yesterday. His long, black hair brushed his cheekbones and tickled his collar, matching thick lashes dipping over a pair of ghostly eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
He was a beautiful, beautiful man.
“Gets better-looking every day,” Faith said between her teeth.
No kidding.
“Hey, Scampi. Faith.” He came deeper into the room until he got to Sofie’s desk. “Busy?”
She looked down at the piles of paperwork, then glanced at her computer at fifty unread e-mails. A ding sounded. Fifty-one. Before she could say a word, Faith stood from her chair.
“She’s not busy at all. I was about to take over for her so she can have the rest of the day off.”
Her friend, the liar. “Faith.”
Donovan’s eyebrows rose slightly, and his gaze tracked from Sofie to her friend.
Faith grinned to beat all. “Go, go. Don’t worry about a thing.” She waved her hands frantically, then physically pushed Sofie closer to him.
As if Sofie needed help in that endeavor.
Nervously, Sofie straightened her skirt and her shirt. “I can take a break for a… a while, I guess. What did you have in mind?”
His smile nearly floored her. She wanted to kiss that smile so badly, and if she had less self-respect, she might throw her arms around his neck and lay one on him right here, right now.
“You’ll see,” was all he said. He took her hand and pulled her to the door.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When Donovan came back to Evergreen Cove, the mansion didn’t feel like home at all. But the quarry, with the tall rock face he used to scale, and the piles of quartz, limestone, and other rocks he picked through, was as familiar and comfortable to him as any home could be.
The day was overcast, unlike yesterday when the sun blazed hot and the air was almost too humid to breathe. The wind cut the humidity in half, and the cloudy skies were gray and forlorn, but didn’t look like rain.
Dog was loving life, poking around the rocks and sticking her nose into every crevice and crack. Donovan took Sofie home to change before he brought her here, and instructed her to wear sturdy shoes. She’d need them for wandering through all this rock. She looked cute, too, in her double tank tops, cotton shorts, and tennis shoes with short socks. He shook his head. Those legs and that round ass—he couldn’t get enough.
“This place is so cool. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was here.” She looked left, then right, her long ponytail brushing her shoulders.
Before he could think about why he was doing it, he reached for her hand, pulled her close, and dropped a kiss on her lips.
They parted and she smiled up at him. “What was that for?”
“Glad you’re playing hooky with me.” Glad, about anything, was a new feeling, but he was in his element so it sort of made sense.
“What are you searching for?”
“Rocks.”
“Ha-ha. I mean what kind of rocks. Can I help?”
“Probably not. I’m picky. I have a design in mind for the fireplace in the great room.” He slid her a glance. “You remember the great room.”
Her smile was pretty, almost modest. He knew better. She wasn’t as innocent as she liked to pretend. With him, anyway, which made his chest puff with pride.
“Know the right pieces when I see them,” he said, dropping her hand. “It’s like a puzzle.”
“Like you,” she said.
He bent to pick up a piece of limestone, rough, but flat. “No, Scampi. I’m not the kind of puzzle you want to figure out.” In an odd way, it flattered him she’d thought to try.
They continued picking, Donovan dropping rocks into a box he’d brought along for that purpose. Sofie hadn’t contributed any, proving pickier than him.
“Hey.” She knelt about three feet away from him and lifted a stone. “This one kind of looks like a heart.”
It did. A jagged, imperfect heart. Like his? Poetic.
“It’s not very smooth though.” She wrinkled her nose and started to put it back down.
“In the box,” he muttered quietly. Maybe it had a place in his design.
Maybe? Denial much?
The rock Sofie had found was a piece—possibly the piece—he’d been looking for. He could picture exactly where it fit. Not making a big deal of it, she dropped it into the box, dusted her hands on
her shorts, and stood.
He pulled his bottom lip under his teeth and whistled. Dog’s head shot up and she tracked over to where he stood. “Don’t cut that paw again,” he told the mutt. Bending, he scratched her ears when she sidled up to him.
The dog leaned against his leg, content to be petted. She’d put on some weight, and her hair had started coming in thicker. Must be the gourmet, three-dollar-a-pound food he’d purchased at the pet shop.
Well, she deserved it. Any dog put through her paces the way this one had been deserved a little spoiling.
He was smiling down at her panting face when Sofie spoke. “What are you going to do with her when you leave?”
Something he preferred not to think about. He continued scrubbing Dog’s head. “I’m sure I can find her a home.”
Probably should start asking around. He wasn’t keeping her and knew finding the right fit for the stray wouldn’t be easy. He was gonna be particular about Dog’s new home. Make sure she found a family who would keep her for good.
He patted her flank with a few solid thumps. Her tail beat his leg.
“So what did people do here?” Sofie asked, stepping around the boulder Evan sat on the other day.
“Dig. Most of the rock was mined for construction projects, I’d guess. Roofing, flooring, countertops, that sort of thing.” Donovan pointed at a small body of water beyond a large pile of rock. “Deeper you dig, more water you find. When it’s active, they pump the water out. When it’s abandoned, you get a lake.”
“This place is bigger than I thought it’d be.”
“Forty acres. Give or take.”
When he was a kid, he’d sneak out here and risk getting caught by Colin Rink, the man who owned the quarry and the attached golf course. Donovan suspected Colin knew he was out here, busting up rocks and climbing the rock face he and Sofie stepped up to now. The old guy never stopped him.
“Used to be a lock on the fence to keep out trespassers.” He tipped his head and took in the scale of the wall, hardly able to believe he’d attempted to climb to the top. “Gone now. Guess the kids have better things to do than come here and screw around.”
He’d climbed the wall a time or two, pushing himself until the fear melted away. Fear was a pussy. Lost its power when challenged.
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