“Isn’t it bad enough I’ve prostituted myself once for this story?” she asked, a frown marring her beautiful face.
Marc grabbed a towel to hide his anger, but there was no covering it up. He wiped his face and tried to put a cap on it. “Is that really how you see this? You prostituting yourself for my story?”
She stepped back a little as she stared at him. “What’s the difference? I want a story. I’m paying for it with my body.”
“Then fuck the story. Stay here and be my mistress for however long I’m in exile.” Had he really just said that?
Sofia’s eyes grew even wider. “I … can’t … do that. My editor is expecting a story. It’s why they sent me here.”
“Call them, tell them it isn’t going to happen. Tell them there’s a family emergency, or whatever you need to, and you need time off. I’ll cover the expenses they’ve put out for your trip here so you don’t get in trouble.”
She stared at him, open mouthed and silent. He saw something in her eyes, something that told him she wanted to yield, to say yes, but then she shook her head, her long, dark locks fanning out about her. “I can’t.”
“You can. But you won’t. There’s a difference, Sofia.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that your thing? Throw money at a problem and make it disappear? That seems to be the thing with guys like you.”
“I simply want something and have the means to have it, if I could compel you to say yes.” He took two steps forward, closing the distance she’d made between them.
She lifted her palm, putting it out to keep him back. “I can’t think when you crowd me like that.”
“Don’t think. Just feel. Do you remember how it felt to be in my arms? How your body felt when I brought you to orgasm after orgasm? I can do that every single day for the next however many weeks if you just say yes.”
Sofia backed out of the gym door. “I need space.”
Space? If given time and space, she’d let the real world in. She’d say no because that’s what she’d think she had to say. “Fine. Have all the space you need.”
Marc kicked off his trainers and peeled off his running shorts as he headed to the deck outside. He dove in, needing to get away from her before he crowded her too much. He knew he could be overwhelming, to say the least.
He swam through the warm waters, the currents rushing over his naked body. Pushing himself, he sought oblivion in physical torment instead of sexual satiation. Marc was still semi-erect, his body ready to slide into Sofia again.
Would he ever have enough?
A week was too little. Even if Max did his job and got him back before the nine weeks were over, he’d still more than likely be here a month at least. Maybe Marc should’ve added that to the cost of her story, instead of offering to make her his mistress.
God, if Maddox could see him now. His brother would have a shit-fit of epic proportions. The woman who’d almost destroyed his career as his big brother’s bedmate.
Which is why having her now, while they were here, away from their world, was perfect. Why couldn’t she see that? They’d bask in the Tahitian sun, fuck on the beach, on the deck, in the water, wherever and whenever he wanted her, over and over. She’d be satisfied, time and time again. Her screams of pleasure had been music to his ears and that had only been the first time he’d had full access to her.
No. Total access.
He grinned, knowing he was twisting that term to fit whatever he wanted. As soon as she’d uttered it, his cock had hardened and he’d seen his way to get to her. From the moment he’d Googled her after she’d printed that fucking story Maddox had been a part of, he’d wanted her. There was no way he’d have admitted to it, but when she’d come into the locker room on occasion to interview him or one of his teammates, he’d felt the weird vibe between them. The attraction had grown over the months and no matter how much he’d tried to deny it, it was there, screaming every time he thought of her or caught a glimpse.
Now that he’d had her in his bed … well, now that he’d had her, she was his for as long as he wanted. At least that’s the way he saw it.
She needed to see it that way, too.
Marc had lost count of the laps he’d done. His arms were weak, and his body straining. Instead of risking drowning from fatigue, he started back to the villa’s deck, ready to shower and relax.
Sofia was waiting for him at the deck, her robe pulled tight about her body.
He was too tired to spar with her again, and from the look on her face, she was more than willing for a fight. As soon as he stopped at the edge of the deck, she lifted a hand to silence him.
“I’ll do it.”
Marc frowned. “You’ll do it?” She wasn’t agreeing to what he thought, was she? She’d been so adamant she wouldn’t. Sofia best not be toying with him, because he was in no mood.
“I’ve called off the story, and I’ll stay here with you. I’ve already called my editor. He isn’t happy, but I made up a lie about my dad being sick and having to go home. I’m all yours.”
She slipped off the robe and let it fall to her feet, her nakedness on show for him once more. His mouth watered even through the shock he felt. Sofia slid into the water beside him, coming back for air at his side. There was a sadness on her face, a look that made him feel like shit for asking what he had.
“I don’t want you to do this unless you truly want to.”
Sofia paddled a little closer, inches from his trembling body. He’d pushed himself past his limits and had no strength left. Her submission only made his flagging body struggle all the more. Need rushed through his weakened muscles, the need to take her pounding through his veins.
“You ask me to give up this story and stay here with you, then back off when I agree? Isn’t that what you claimed I did a few moments ago?”
He chuckled. “I only ask to make sure you’re doing this because you want to. I am not backing off. I want you, but only if it’s what you want.”
“Now you make it seem like I had a choice,” she said before smiling wistfully. “I want to do it. How can I say no to exile in paradise with you after what you’ve done to me?”
Marc smiled, knowing he’d gotten what he wanted. And now he was too tired to do anything about it, but then that was his luck. She’d get a quiet evening, watching the sunset, instead of him having her body again. “Exile in paradise it is,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her.
Chapter Ten
A week later and Sofia rolled over in their bed, her body stiff and sore from Marc’s constant attentions. She’d been ignoring the sounding screams in the back of her head, asking what the hell she was doing. Why had she agreed to become his mistress and lie to her bosses?
Sofia was unhappy in her job. Marc had offered her an escape from the world. Maybe a couple of weeks off would allow her to clear her head and give her some perspective. Eventually she’d have to face them all and make a decision one way or another; but for now, she could just exist in this place with Marc, letting him do naughty things to her body.
She reached to the side to see he wasn’t there, but he often wasn’t early in the morning. He would wake early to work out before showering and eating. Then they’d return to bed to have a nice workout between the sheets. They’d spent three days in and out of bed, his insatiable need firing them both. She wasn’t used to a man with a libido as high as his, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t impressed just the same.
She also sensed Marc was holding something back. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but when they were in bed together, or on the couch, the kitchen counter, or the bathtub—wherever it was when he decided he could no longer hold back—she felt like he wanted more. What more was, she wasn’t positive, but she had a notion. She was reticent to ask, though. The few glimpses she’d had of his darker desires made her nervous. Yet he fired her blood when he pushed the limits to her boundaries.
Marc had taught her more about her own body, as well as her needs and desires tha
n anyone else before him. Most of her partners in the past had been into vanilla sex, for the most part. Marc wasn’t vanilla, but it seemed he was trying to be good for her sake. The cuffs and the anal plug had stayed off the menu, even though she wouldn’t have objected to him using them again. Asking for them would be too much for the coy girl hiding behind the mask, especially since she didn’t know how deep the rabbit hole went.
Did she want to open that door to find out just how dark it was inside? Pressed to her limits, he’d rend incredible orgasms from her. Breaking through them, where would that leave her?
The smell of coffee wafted into the bedroom seconds before Marc appeared in the doorway, sweat coated with a towel hanging around his neck. She smiled at the sight of him, her naked body curling like a satisfied cat. Just seeing him made her pussy swell, her juices starting to coat her folds, preparing for his touch.
When had she become this wanton little hussy?
Sofia didn’t care. She was far away from the world, exiled in paradise with a sex god, so she would play the role of his mistress and enjoy each and every moment of it.
“Morning, sexy,” Marc whispered as he knelt in the middle of the bed. Without touching her, he kissed her lips, quickly rising back to his feet and walking to the bathroom to shower. “I started a pot of coffee and ordered breakfast.”
As he had every morning thus far. It was interesting how easily they’d gotten into a routine. He’d let her sleep in as he rose to exercise. Then he’d call room service before starting a pot of coffee. Marc would shower as they awaited food. They’d eat, have sex, swim, sun, have sex again on the beach, and then maybe some lunch if they wanted. In the afternoon, Marc would do some weight training before dinner while she read or explored the island. They’d eat and then spend the night in bed, watching the sunset while having sex.
Relationships weren’t supposed to be so predictable, but that was one schedule she could live with. Too bad they’d eventually have to go back home and their routine would end.
She heard the shower start and soon after, she heard the outer door to the villa open. Sofia pulled a sheet over her nudity as she listened to room service shuttle in and set their table, wondering what Marc had ordered for them this time. A few minutes later, the door clicked quietly and Marc turned off the water. As soon as he reappeared with just a towel wrapped low around his hips, she rose from the bed and draped her robe about her body.
Marc took her hand and drew her behind him to the breakfast table. Silently they padded to the table, where there was a luxurious spread out before them. A silver coffee service, a basket of fresh croissants, two large bowls filled with cut tropical fruit, as well as covered silver bowl, which she was sure held eggs and bacon. Her stomach growled as she sat down and started fixing herself a plate. Last night, she’d eaten little, too interested in Marc’s hands on her body.
Marc filled a plate as well, but she felt his stare on her continuously as he did. There was something in the air, and she wasn’t sure what it was.
“After breakfast, you need to put on your bikini and maybe some shorts and running shoes,” he said before shoveling some eggs into his mouth.
“Why? Where are we going?”
“Onto the beach,” was all he answered.
So he was breaking their routine. No morning sex? She almost pouted, but her curiosity was piqued enough to combat that. The longer it took her to eat, the more her nosiness got to her and by the end of the meal, she was eating much too quickly. Putting her fork down, she forced herself to slow and not look like a kid on Christmas morning.
Marc’s gaze drifted to her on and off through the meal, his knowing smile making her wonder what he was up to.
Finally they finished up and went into the bedroom to dress. Marc only wore a long pair of board shorts and his running shoes, while she put on her bikini, adding shorts and her trainers.
“So where are we going?” she asked again, trying to get more details.
“You’ll see soon enough,” was all he added, giving her his wicked smile.
Once she was ready, he grabbed her hand and tugged her outside. She followed him, her stare taking in everything, trying to find clues. Once they rounded the deck on the villa, she saw the private beach—where there were what looked like two soccer goals set up about a field apart. The strip of beach wasn’t wide enough to be a full field, but it sure looked like that was what he’d attempted to set up.
A smile sprang to her lips as they neared. A net bag hung from the corner of one of the goals, filled with three soccer balls. “What are we doing?”
Marc stopped at the goal and drew one of the balls out. “You love to play soccer, right?”
“You got them to set up a field on the beach? For me?” Her chest tightened at the thought.
Marc captured her gaze, and there was something that passed between them, something she knew couldn’t be what it had felt like. He swallowed, then looked at the ball in his hands. “All I did was ask the concierge to set this up. It isn’t a big deal.”
It was a big deal. He’d listened to her story and had done this for her. She hadn’t been able to play in a while, so she was touched beyond words. “Thank you.”
Marc looked back up at her, and she saw something soften. Butterflies took flight in her stomach as he held her stare for a long moment, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. But he quickly closed them back and tossed the ball up in the air. “It’ll be good exercise.”
Sofia was struck with emotion, but didn’t know if he’d simply done this to work out more or to be kind to her. She sensed it was the latter, but his quick dismissal made her wonder. He spun around, away from her, and walked past the goal. She followed and once they were about midway between the goals, he dropped the ball to the sand.
“Whoever loses has to submit to whatever the winner wants to do … in bed,” Marc announced, lifting an eyebrow toward her as if daring her to refuse his plan.
Sofia put both hands on her hips. He wanted to play that game? Sure. “Fine. But you’d better be ready to lose.”
“I never lose,” he said, his voice gravely, filled with lust.
Her nipples hardened, the sound reverberating through her body. She frowned, so unused to such simple things about a man making her body stand up and take notice. Marc could glance her way and make her wet. His deep voice could make her tremble. Power like that over her was borderline frightening. No one had ever held her attention so completely.
It was also incredibly sexy at the same time. “We’ll see about that,” she said, deciding she’d do just about anything to win their little game—even if she had to play dirty to do it.
But then, would she really be a loser if she’d end up submitting to him in bed?
Either way, she would win and the things he’d do to her body would make her scream over and over again, just as she had been doing for days. She was starting to become a little addicted to him.
Marc kicked the ball to her, a short swat to get the game going. She ran forward, pushing the ball along and keeping it close. It had been so long since she’d done any drills or footwork, so she needed to shake off the dust and get into the groove. Marc blocked her, using his big body to prevent her from going any farther, so she kicked it between his legs and spun past him, taking the ball closer to her goal. He caught back up with her, but she surged ahead and kicked the ball into the goal. It flew in and she cried out, her arms over her head.
“Score!” she squealed. She turned to look at him, a wide smile on her lips.
Marc stopped in his tracks and stared at her, an odd look on his face.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re a sore loser,” she said.
He shook his head. “Not at all,” but he still quietly observed her, making her feel odd. His face was emotionless, so she couldn’t get a read on him.
Her heart raced for some reason, and his stare made goose bumps skitter across her arms. She turned from him and gathered the ball befo
re throwing it back into play. Marc dribbled the ball with nice slow kicks from the inside of his foot. He wasn’t bad at all, she noted. Sofia rushed him, going on the offense.
She quickly caught up with him, his dribbling good, but not as good as hers had been. When he wasn’t defending his ball well enough, she stole it from him and took off back to the other end of the field. Sofia could feel him following her, but knew she had enough time and space. A quick kick gave her another goal. “Goooooooooooal!” she cried and spun around to check his reaction.
He slowed to a stop and shook his head at her, a smile playing across his features. “If I knew you were that good, I might have reconsidered this plan.”
“You aren’t backing out of this now, bucko,” she cried, running to the ball. She threw it back in again, instead of kicking it in, since it was only the two of them on a small strip of beach.
Marc quickly took the ball, being a little more aggressive with his play. His kicks became faster, and he ran it down the field, as opposed to the short kicks he’d done last time. Defending the ball better, she wondered if he’d been holding back. She ran closer, trying to steal, and he was able to keep her off.
He rushed past and scored his first goal. Marc spun to look at her, his smile smug. “I’m not totally out of the game, sweetheart.”
Sofia laughed, having more fun in that moment than she could recall having in … well, forever. They continued to battle, her skills coming back to her, and his becoming a little more aggressive the longer they played. He was good, better than she’d expected, but she was better, even with the length of time since she’d last played. She kept her lead, but he gave her a run for her money.
After nearly forty-five minutes of play, they were both coated in sweat, exhausted, and covered in sand. She had grains in places she didn’t want them to be in and desperately wanted a shower. But she also had to win. She had him by one point, but since they’d not set up parameters for how long they’d play, they could be out there for hours. She might have him on skill, but he had her on endurance, and wasn’t showing the same level of fatigue she was.
Tackling Her Heart Page 7
