Shit.
Had she seen him last Friday night? He was certain she hadn't, because he'd left the bar while she was still talking to her friend, and they'd never made eye contact. He turned his head slightly to his right and noticed a heavyset man in a yellow shirt ambling towards her.
He chuckled.
If he were in her place, he would have just walked out. It was noble that she was trying to pay her check, even at the risk of Big Bird swooping in on her. He mentally patted himself on the back as he neatly cut into the other man's path.
"Is this seat taken?"
She started to respond and turned to face him with an apologetic smile. He saw her big brown eyes widen when she realized he wasn't Big Bird. They were framed with gently arched eyebrows and inky black lashes that fluttered down as her cheeks flamed red. Her small, but full pink mouth had fallen into a tiny "o" as she took a short breath and told him he was welcome to the seat.
And like a gong, it sounded once more, reverberating through his head.
My dream girl.
He sat thoughtfully, observing her as she resumed trying to get the bartender to come over.
"Long day?"
She turned back to him with a slightly incredulous look on her face. "Yes," she got out.
In an effort to put her at ease, he offered to move. He wondered at the myriad of expressions that crossed her face, but eventually she relaxed.
Two minutes later, it appeared she'd changed her mind about leaving and as the frowning bartender poured her a new glass of wine, she smiled shyly at him and stuck out her hand. "I'm Sophie."
This was definitely not a good idea.
*****
Liz would be so proud of her.
A few hours had passed since Lucas sat down next to her. They were now nibbling on appetizers, and she was on her fourth glass of wine.
Taking another sip of wine, she surveyed him over the rim of her glass. He was the perfect candidate to help her get back on the proverbial horse. So far, everything that she'd learned about him seemed to fit her criteria. He'd shared that he was in town for work, staying at the W Hotel across the street.
Definitely no chance of running into him awkwardly, or even worse—waiting up for his call.
Hit and run! Or was it, wham, bam, thank you ma'am? Damn it, what was the idiom you were supposed to use when the situation was reversed?
But then she lost all train of thought when he leaned over. Suddenly, he was too close, invading her space.
"I would kill to know what's going through your mind right now," he whispered in her ear, his breath gently flowing over her skin.
The intimacy of their current position wasn’t not lost on her.
She couldn't place his aftershave, but his clean, masculine scent assaulted her senses. Her nerve endings were on fire, and she could feel the long-forgotten curl of warmth deep in her belly.
She’d been about to respond, when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
Arrested by the heat emanating from his gaze, Sophie blanked.
"Oh, nothing interesting," she croaked.
You twit. You bloody fool. Britney the bartender would have had this in the bag two hours ago. That's really all you can say? Nothing interesting? What is wrong with you?
"Are you sure?" he teased. "You looked like you were pretty deep in thought, just now."
She remained silent for a few moments, reminding herself exactly why she’d come to the bar by herself that night.
Then she placed her hand over his.
She was about to defy the female gospel, go against all the rules her friends coached her on, and rebel against all the mantras she'd read in the self-help section of Barnes & Noble.
He regarded her steadily, obviously amused.
"Look," she started out shakily, feeling a little lightheaded.
"Yes?"
"I, um, well. I haven't done anything in a really long time. I haven't done anything, and I'm not looking for anything serious." She paused mid-stream, realizing how disjointed her thoughts were. Taking a deep breath, she met his steady gray stare.
"I'm just looking for some healthy adult fun tonight. That's all. Safe fun, though! Safe, healthy adult fun." She nodded, hoping her face wasn't as red as it was hot.
There.
She'd said it.
Cards on the table.
She quickly turned away, averting her gaze from his, but it felt as if an eternity passed before he spoke.
"So—let me get this right. You just want to use me?"
He sounded shocked.
Oh fuck. I've offended him. Damn, damn, damn!
She bit down on her lip hard, hoping that the pain from the tiny bite would counteract the embarrassing tingle that spread across her body. It was unfortunate she couldn’t disappear into thin air.
"Sophie, look at me," he softly commanded. He placed his finger under her chin, tipping it ever so slightly so their eyes met once again.
And then she saw the amused twinkle in his eye and she felt relief.
He was just teasing, he wasn't really offended, she realized gratefully. There was something else in his eyes too, though. Deep gray orbs regarded her thoughtfully, intense in their focus.
She hadn't imagined the heat from earlier.
He moved his head towards hers, stopping only when his lips brushed her ear. "If you want a night with me, I promise you it's one you’ll never forget.”
*****
Coffee.
Sophie lay in bed, head throbbing and throat dry. She needed coffee.
She heard a rustling in the room, and her eyes shot open.
This wasn't her room.
Shooting up in bed, the comforter fell to her waist, and she heard a low whistle from across the room.
"Nice view," Lucas commented, smiling widely as he zipped a small travel case.
Mortified, she yanked the cover up to her chin and slowly slid down into the bed, closing her eyes. He disappeared into another room, and returned, setting a glass of water and a small bottle of aspirin on the nightstand beside her.
She peeled open one eye and peeked at him.
Even in her hungover state, she couldn't help but notice how impossibly handsome he was.
Her heart thumped loudly.
"You should probably take two of these and drink this," he grinned.
She sighed, but she sat up again, this time making sure to pull the cover with her. Shame and guilt overwhelmed her as the previous night came flooding back to her.
Well, most of it, anyway.
"Um, did we—?" she trailed off, not quite wanting to finish the damning question.
He shrugged on a blazer and settled into the armchair adjacent to the bed. Sitting back with a grace that belied his height, he regarded her, his eyes full of amusement.
"I kept trying to convince you to eat last night, but you kept insisting you weren't hungry. We went to the hotel bar to, ah, get you some water. I didn't feel okay letting you go home in a cab like that, so I brought you back to my room."
The way he said it was so nonchalant, she wondered if this was a normal occurrence.
Then words fully sank in, and her face flamed.
"I'm really sorry you felt like you had to take care of me. I promise I'm not a lush," she whispered.
He laughed, but she felt compelled to say something more…since he hadn't. "So, um…did anything—of an, ummm—intimate nature happen between us last night?" Still flushed, she felt so embarrassed, she wouldn't have been surprised if she were sweating.
"Well…you kissed me," he said bluntly.
She could feel herself blushing harder, and her words came out in the barest whisper. "I did?"
He nodded. "Yes. We got into the elevator to come up to my room, and you kissed me right here-" he motioned to his sensual mouth, which was curved into a smirk. She groaned and pulled the cover over her head once more.
"Then?" She hoped he could hear her muffled voice.
Appar
ently, he did.
"Then we got up to my room, you kicked off your heels, stripped off your jeans and shirt, and crawled into my bed," he said matter-of-factly.
In an instant, she popped out from underneath the covers. "I did what?" she asked, horror slowly spreading over her face.
"You don't remember?" he frowned.
She shook her head as he raised her eyebrows.
"You really can't handle your alcohol, can you?" he admonished.
She immediately felt defensive.
"I can," she protested, forgetting that she was half-naked and arguing with a veritable stranger. "I—just, ah, well, yesterday was a tough day and I needed some liquid courage, so I had a shot of whiskey before we met. "
He regarded her curiously. "Why?"
"I just needed to, that's all. So we didn't do anything?”
He shook his head. "No, but I have to tell you baby, blue is my favorite color and your thong and bra are my favorite shade."
She wanted to shriek with embarrassment, but it was quickly forgotten when he got up from his chair and started towards her. Her heartbeat pulsed erratically as he peeled the cover away from her body.
He leaned over her, his mouth dangerously close to hers.
Terrified to move, she stayed put until she felt his lips almost touch hers.
"Sophie," he whispered.
She could feel his mouth move against hers as he said her name. Even with her head pounding and shame flooding throughout her body, she felt her pulse quicken. Those enigmatic gray eyes held hers captive as he stroked the side of her face.
"I want to see you again," he murmured, before brushing her lips lightly with his.
He pressed his mouth against hers, his lips coaxing hers to accept him. She resisted for a moment before he demanded her acquiescence in the sweetest way.
He gently took her mouth, lightly nipping her plush bottom lip and gently sucking. It almost felt surreal, and she whimpered as he urged her to open wider. His tongue entwined with hers, stroking, soothing, arousing.
Sophie felt she was on the verge of losing the very small amount of good sense she still had left. She felt cool air, then a rough palm cup her breast, and only then did she realize that he'd drawn the covers down. His thumb lightly brushed over her nipple, and in response, it stood to attention.
He continued to plunder her mouth as he rolled the sensitive tip of her breast between his fingers. She felt her back arch and heard herself sigh in appreciation, then suddenly he tore his mouth from hers and pulled the cover back over her.
She stared at him, confused.
"I have to go back to London, for work," he said roughly, standing up abruptly. He moved to pick up a leather travel bag. "I'd like to see you again," he said once more, turning back to her. "I'll be back in one week."
Huh?
After her shamelessly wanton response to him, not to mention the fact that she'd gotten completely wasted and stripped down to her undies in front of him before crawling into his bed, she wanted nothing more than to never lay eyes on his gorgeous face ever again.
Slightly dazed and still confused, she pulled the covers up even higher.
His gruff demeanor dissipated in an instant, and he grinned that handsome smile at her once more. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a plastic card.
"Here," he said, handing the card to her. "This is my room key. Feel free to take your time leaving today—unfortunately, I have a plane I need to catch. When I come back on Saturday, I'd like nothing more than to find you in my room."
Mutely, she shook her head once more.
He just winked at her as he headed towards the door.
"Your virtue is safe for now...until Saturday, Sophie," he said huskily.
Chapter Three
She fought to keep her eyes open.
What am I doing here? He probably won't even show.
Excitement and trepidation ran a tumultuous race through her veins. Tired and anxious, she stood up, hoping that movement would delay the fatigue and give her time to think.
She crossed the room into the master bath. It was as immaculate as the rest of the hotel. Pristine hardware fixtures gleamed so hard back at her she could see a mini reflection of herself.
She ran the water in the sink until it was freezing cold before splashing her face in an effort to wake up. Grabbing the soft hand towel, she gently blotted her face to avoid ruining whatever makeup was left on her face. Trying not to frown, she surveyed the results in the mirror.
Huge brown eyes stared back, fringed with thick black lashes. Her face was pale from the freezing water, but her cheeks were still flushed from anticipation. She drew nearer to her reflection, pink lips pursed as she surveyed delicately arched eyebrows.
I should've gone to the threading lady. Damn it.
Stepping back, she ran her hands over the pretty blue negligee. She'd worn her suit skirt and jacket over it, so she could easily change from work, but she'd decided to leave the single strand of pearls around her neck. She shuddered in a deep breath, doubting her outfit for the umpteenth time that night. This was something a woman should wear for a lover, not a one-night stand.
Too late.
It's either this, or I go naked, assuming he even shows up.
She sauntered back into the room. The huge bed looked so warm and inviting. It was already 9 PM. He hadn't given her a time to be in his room when he'd left a week ago, but she couldn't imagine that it would be this late.
Exhausted from the long day at work, she lay down on the covers, picking up the remote and turning the television on. A laugh track played on cue for a late-night talk show host. She continued to flip channels, pausing when the hotel menu came up on one of the channels.
Smirking, she picked up the phone on the nightstand and punched the button for room service. It was the least he owed her, for inviting her to an empty room. She would just have a cocktail and a snack, and then she would leave, she decided.
When the glass of champagne and dish of fresh strawberries arrived, she settled back into the plush pillows and sighed. Changing the channel to an old black and white film, she sipped the bubbly beverage and sighed.
Even if he didn't show, this luxury was amazing.
It was the last thought that crossed her mind before she fell into a deep slumber.
*****
Lucas quietly slipped his key card in and opened the door.
There wasn't any point in being quiet, he surmised grimly. She probably wasn't here, anyway.
Lucas’s flight from London was delayed by three hours. He'd planned on being back in New York by 8 o'clock, but it was almost midnight. No woman would have stayed in an empty hotel room. He wished he'd had her number, but they hadn't gotten around to that. She just wanted a one-night stand anyway, something without any attachments, so he figured giving her his room key with a date and time worked perfectly.
No strings, but now he wished he had at least one…if at least to reach her, and explain.
He hadn't slept on the plane, and as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it on the armchair, he intended on getting some sleep and maybe trying to find her in the morning.
A rustling on the bed caught his attention, and his head turned sharply at the sound.
He realized Sophie was in his bed, and suddenly, sleep was the last thing on his mind.
*****
She was caught somewhere between a dream state and consciousness. Her body hummed. A hand whispered lightly over her, cloaking her body in a silk caress.
Warm, firm lips pressed hotly against her nape. She could feel the strength of a warm, muscular male body enveloping her frame. Her body molded against his as the palm cupped her heavy breast over the silk, thumbing the taut nipple.
She heard a whimper, somewhere, but she ignored it, wanting to stay in the dream.
Hot kisses trailed down her neck and to her shoulder. She felt the pull of a strap against her shoulder, and heard a snap.
"Sophie."
/> At the guttural groan of her name, she came awake with a start.
"Shhhhh," he whispered against her skin.
Instantly she knew it was him and relaxed.
"You came?"
"How could I stay away? Soon, you'll be the one coming," he teased gently.
She could feel his hands slide under the silk, stroking her thighs ever so lightly. She shifted, wanting to face him. Instantly, his hands stilled.
"Stay," he commanded. "Don't move."
"Lucas?" she whispered uncertainly. She knew it was him, but there was a nagging doubt. The Lucas she'd met was handsome, playful, and lighthearted. This...man, who was slowly possessing her body felt anything but lighthearted. His authoritative tone brooked no refusal, and for a moment, a frisson of fear coursed through her body.
Almost as if he knew, he brushed soothing kisses along her bare back, pressing soft but firm lips into her flesh. "It's okay," he assured. "Just feel."
As soon as she heard the words, she felt her entire body go lax as he used his lips and hands to caress her body.
Worshipped. This is how it must feel to be worshipped.
This was bliss.
Long forgotten sensations pulsed through her belly and began to build up. His hands slipped under the silk, following the gentle slope of her breast until he reached her nipple. He strummed it lightly with his fingers, while his other hand slipped under the back of her negligee.
The man above her stifled a groan. His hand slipped between her thighs and as he pressed his forehead to her back he couldn’t seem to stop himself from groaning.
Using his thumb and middle finger, he gently parted her slick folds, leaving her clit exposed to torturous circles he drew with his index fingers.
She gasped and let out a low moan. He increased the pressure against her clit, gently biting her nape and laving the hurt with his tongue.
"Please," she begged.
"Please, what?" he whispered.
Beyond Bliss Page 2
