by Lori Foster
To her surprise, once that was done, he didn’t attempt to make love to her again but instead wanted to assist her with her mug of hot chocolate. Sophie giggled every time he carried a spoonful of whipped cream to her mouth, but he was persistent, cajoling, and before the drinks were done, she had caught on and teased him unmercifully, licking at the spoon and sometimes his fingers, making him groan in reaction. She’d never been a flirt before, but she liked it.
And judging by his reactions, he liked it, too.
She thought of all the nights she drank hot chocolate at his bar and knew she’d never be able to order the drink there again. The chocolate always gave her a boost to get through the rest of her evening after a long workday, sort of like the caffeine from coffee did for others. She drank it year round, but now, she would imagine this scene, and if Cole so much as looked at her, she would recall his touch, his kiss. Though this was happening to Shelly, Sophie would be affected. No, she would never drink hot chocolate in front of him again. But it was worth it to lose the one small, routine comfort, when compared with the excitement of their present play.
“God, the way you do this ought to be outlawed for the sanity of mankind.”
She merely smiled.
“You’re such a tease,” he whispered.
To which she replied, “Me? You’re the one who still has his jeans on.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue smoothing over her lips, then dipping inside before he pulled away. “An easy enough problem to fix.” He stood and unselfconsciously shucked off the last of his clothes. Sophie caught her breath at the sight of him. He was already hard, thrusting outward, and her body warmed at the significance of that.
“I started something earlier that I didn’t get a chance to finish.”
She couldn’t imagine what. Everything had felt very finished to her; her nerve endings all came alive as she remembered the ways he’d touched and kissed her. Her eyes rounded when he scooped her up and laid her flat on the bed, one of her legs across his lap, the other behind him. Without a word, he leaned over and very gently nipped her ear, his tongue touching, stroking. One hand closed on her breast, and his fingers smoothed over and around her nipple until she squirmed.
Her body thrummed in immediate excitement. She closed her eyes, thrilled by his touch, how quickly he could bring her to a high level of excitement. She’d never imagined anything like this in her life.
He moved from her ear to her throat, then her shoulder, which she hadn’t realized was so sexually sensitive to his touch, but every time he kissed her skin, every little lick, sent a riot of sensation through her body, seeming to concentrate between her thighs.
“There’s a lot of things I’d like to do to you, honey.”
“Yes.” Whatever he wanted was fine with her; he seemed to know things about her body she’d never guessed.
“You taste so sweet,” he whispered as he neared her breasts. His breath was fast, his mouth hot as he covered her nipple and tugged. Her back arched, but he soothed her, murmuring to her until she relaxed again, though her heartbeat still galloped.
“Relax and let me make love to you, baby.”
Relax? Her entire body felt too tight, too sensitive. Then his teeth closed on her nipple, just sharp enough to alarm her. He tugged and she cried out, but he didn’t stop, gently tormenting her. She started to grasp his head, but he caught her hands in one fist and pinned them above the pillow. His rough, raspy tongue smoothed over and around her nipple until she cried, then he switched to the other breast.
He was in no hurry now and she could do no more than accept his unique brand of torture. Still, she tried to protest when he left her breasts to kiss her ribs, but he wouldn’t be deterred. Sophie moved against him, wanting to feel him push inside her body, to fill her. She ached for him. The feelings were even stronger now that she knew what to expect, what to anticipate.
She stiffened when his mouth moved to the top of her left thigh and her breath caught in her chest. His fingers slipped between her thighs and cupped her. “Remember what I told you earlier, babe?”
One finger found her most sensitive spot and gently rubbed back and forth. Sophie couldn’t find enough breath to answer him.
“Do you remember?” He lightly pinched her, tugged, stroked, and Sophie couldn’t keep the long moan from escaping between her tightly clenched teeth.
“That’s it. You do remember, don’t you? Here, and here…” He kissed her ear again, her nipple. “And here.” In the next instant, his mouth replaced the fingers between her legs and she couldn’t believe it, couldn’t control her reactions or her small screams. Her hands pulled free and knotted in his hair, keeping him close, and he moved closer still, tasting her, licking her, nipping with his teeth. He gently sucked as he worked one rough finger into her, then another. Pushing deep inside, slowly, adding to the building pressure and pleasure.
The contractions hit her hard and she screamed out her climax, vaguely aware of his hum of satisfaction, of the way he pressed his own body firmly against the mattress. Her hips bucked and he resettled her, his long fingers biting into her hips, holding her still. It seemed to go on and on and he wouldn’t relent until she pounded on his shoulders and shuddered and begged.
Seconds later he was over her and he cupped her face between his palms, his fingers still damp. “Look at me, Sophie.”
She managed to get her eyes open though it took a lot of effort. His words were indistinct to her muddled brain, but she knew he wanted her attention. Cole looked fierce, his face flushed darkly, his nostrils flared as he struggled for breath. And then he drove into her and once again her body reacted, her heels digging into the mattress as she strove to get as close to him as possible. Her climax, so recently abated, so utterly exhausting, came back to her in a flash of undulating heat and pinpoint sensation. She clung to Cole while he ground himself against her, his eyes never leaving her face, their gazes locked. It was a connection that went beyond physical, that joined their hearts as well as their bodies.
He groaned harshly and cursed and then she felt him coming, knew he’d locked his legs against the intensity of his climax. And he said her name again and again, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Sophie, Sophie…”
This time when he collapsed, he turned so she faced him on her side, sparing her his weight. One heavy thigh draped over her own. His body was damp with sweat and radiated heat. For long minutes neither of them spoke. They allowed their heartbeats to slow, their bodies to cool.
Something, some vague unease niggled at the back of Sophie’s mind, but she was too drained to identify the cause. She tried to ignore it, but it remained, vexing her like a dull toothache, prodding at the recesses of her mind.
Cole kept her close, locked in his arms, and then he whispered, “Sleep.” His fingertips touched her nose, her cheekbones. “You look tuckered out, honey. Give in. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”
Sophie sighed, comforted by his scent and the leisurely way he stroked her. She felt safe, protected. He snagged the quilts and pulled them over her, tucking her in. Within minutes she could feel herself drifting off, the long, restless nights two days past suddenly catching up to her.
Cole’s hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers kneading her scalp, and that was all it took. She was aware of one last lingering kiss to her forehead, and then she was asleep.
Chapter Five
At first she was only aware of warmth and comfort, a coziness she’d never experienced before. She’d never awakened in a strange bed, and doing so now momentarily disoriented her. She sighed, mentally forcing herself from the depths of the deep sleep she’d enjoyed. Cole’s scent and warmth mingled around her, stirring her senses. Even without full awareness, things felt almost perfect, except for one tiny problem. She frowned and concentrated on getting fully awake.
But the second she opened her eyes, she knew what had gone wrong.
Oh God, he’d called her by name.
So
phie was afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe. Cole lay heavily beside her, his even breaths touching against her temple, disturbing the fine hairs there. He had one heavy thigh draped over her legs, one arm limp around her waist, the other cushioning her head. Their combined body heat had worked to glue their skin together and she knew, if she moved, he’d awaken.
Then the questions would begin.
She closed her eyes as dread filled her. He knew! The last time they’d made love, he’d called her Sophie, not just once, but over and over again. He knew she wasn’t Shelly, but he’d made love to her anyway. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the ramifications of such a thing. She was naked, in bed with the man she’d spent seven months fantasizing about, the man she’d slowly fallen in love with. They’d made love repeatedly and her body ached in tender places, reminding her just how new this all was to her, and how well he now knew her body.
Carefully, moving like a ghost, she turned her face to look at him.
His dark lashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones and beard stubble covered his lean jaw, chin, and upper lip. How long had they slept? His dark, silky hair fell over his forehead, and Sophie was amazed at how the sight affected her.
God, she loved him.
She closed her eyes as pain swelled inside her. Cole knew who she was, and now she had to deal with that. But she needed time. She couldn’t sort out her thoughts with him so close, his naked body warming her own.
At that moment he yawned and stretched. Sophie froze, frantically praying that he wouldn’t awaken. He put one arm above his head and rolled onto his back.
Her insides quivered in relief; she felt almost lightheaded. Not daring to move, she waited several moments, but he slept on. He, too, was exhausted. And his normal routine was to sleep later, since the bar kept him out at night. Slowly, holding her breath, she slid one leg to the edge of the bed.
When he remained motionless, she moved her other leg. Luckily, his bed was firm and didn’t sag or rock overly with her motions. It took her nearly three full minutes, but finally she was standing beside the bed, staring down at him. He muttered in his sleep, scratched his bare chest, then sighed heavily.
What had she done?
Escape was the only clear thought in her mind. She needed time, time away from him, from his magnetism. She had to think. On tiptoes, she gathered up her clothes and slipped out into the hallway. There she dressed hastily and grabbed up her coat. She didn’t bother to look into a mirror, already knowing she looked a wreck. A night of debauchery had to leave a woman somewhat disheveled, but there was nothing she could do about it now, so she didn’t want to dwell on it.
The lock on his front door gave a quiet snick as she slipped it open, and her heart almost punched out of her chest. But there were no ensuing noises, so she assumed he slept on.
She ran the few blocks back to her car still parked at the bar, the cold slicing into her, almost unaware of the tears on her face. Fortunately for her peace of mind, the streets were all but completely deserted. There was no one to witness her humiliation as she stumbled up to her car, then dropped her keys twice before finally getting the door unlocked.
She drove like a madwoman, anxious to be home in the comfort of familiar surroundings where she could sort it all out in private. When she finally pulled into the parking lot, her car was still cold and she was racked with shivers. It was almost six-thirty.
She couldn’t bear the thought of working today, not sure if Cole would feel obliged to come and see her after the way she’d run off, more afraid that he wouldn’t bother at all. The humiliation was too much. She called Allison and asked her to cover for her the entire day. It would mean paying the assistant overtime, but Sophie didn’t care.
Once Allison had agreed, Sophie stripped off her clothes, took a warm shower, which did nothing to shake off the awful chill deep inside her, then she crawled into bed. She had to decide what to do, how to explain, what excuse she could use for such a dastardly trick.
But first, she cried.
“So what’s wrong with you? You’ve looked ready to commit murder all night. The customers are giving you a wide berth.”
Without answering, Cole stalked away from Chase. He felt heartsick and so damned empty he didn’t know how to deal with it.
Of course, Chase wouldn’t let it go, following Cole as he headed for the office, throwing the door back open and walking in without taking the obvious hints. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Give it up, Cole, and tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes burned and his gut clenched. Furious, he turned to Chase and said, “You want the goddamned details? Fine. She walked out on me.”
“Sophie?”
Cole threw up his hands. “No, the First Lady. Of course I mean Sophie.”
Carefully, Chase asked, “So you went after her and stopped her and told her how you feel, right?”
Sending his brother a look of intense dislike, Cole said, “I was asleep. She snuck out on me.”
“Oh.”
“After I woke up this morning, I went to her boutique, but her assistant said she called in sick. I don’t have her home phone number or even know where she lives.” He laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “After seven months—after last night—I don’t have her damned address.”
“Ask the assistant.”
He growled, then said in a mock woman’s voice, “It’s against policy to give out personal information, but I promise to tell Sophie you asked.”
Chase scowled. “She refused to give you Sophie’s number?”
“Yeah. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t give in.”
“So that’s it? Hell, I might as well throw dirt on you. If you’re giving up now, you’re dead and buried.”
“I’m not giving up, damn it! I just don’t know what to do at this precise moment. Waiting doesn’t sit right. I have no idea what Sophie might be thinking.”
“All right. I’ll take care of it.” At Cole’s incredulous look, Chase added, “I’ll go over there and talk to the assistant. I’ll get Sophie’s number for you.”
“And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?”
“Never mind. Just figure out what you want to say to her when you do call her. If you blow this, I’m going to be really disappointed in you.”
Mack and Zane approached the office just in time to hear Chase’s comment. “Disappointed in Cole about what?”
Chase left the office to fetch his coat and get on his way. The three brothers followed him like he was the Pied Piper.
“What’s going on with you two? Where’s Chase going?”
When they were all behind the bar, Cole turned to his brother Mack. “On a blind mission, though he doesn’t believe that just yet. But he will, after he meets Allison.”
Zane stepped up, a look of confusion on his face. “Who’s Allison?”
“Sophie’s assistant.”
“Oh yeah. I remember her.”
Both Cole and Chase turned to stare at him. They started to ask, but thought better of it. The details of Zane’s love life were often too boggling to deal with. Mack snickered.
After a moment, while Chase tugged on his coat and gloves, Zane asked, “Did you and Sophie have a falling out or something?”
“It’s none of your business, Zane.”
He shrugged at Cole. “Fine. But I just wondered if there was some reason you weren’t serving her. If you’d rather I’d take her a drink, just say so. But I don’t like ignoring a woman.”
Cole’s head snapped up and he stared over at the familiar booth. There sat Sophie, hands primly folded on the table, her expression cautiously serene, though her face was pale and her eyes were red. His heart twisted, then lodged in his throat.
Chase asked, “How long has she been sitting there?”
“About ten minutes now. Usually Cole serves her right off, so I didn’t know…”
His words dwindled off as Cole climbed over the bar instead of going around it, sending several customers ju
mping out of his way, awkwardly snatching up their drinks so they wouldn’t get spilled. Cole’s stride was long and forceful, his gaze focused on his approach to Sophie’s table. With each step he took, his pulse pounded in his ears until he almost couldn’t hear. When he reached her, she looked up and he saw her eyes were puffy. God, had she been crying? He searched her face; words, explanations, all jumbled in his mind so that he couldn’t get a single coherent thought out. Finally he just leaned down and kissed her. Hard. Possessively. He kept one hand on the table in front of her, one on the back of her seat, caging her in, keeping her from pulling away.
But she didn’t try to pull away. Her small hands came up and grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer still.
He heard a roaring in his ears and realized it came from the bar. Lifting his mouth from Sophie’s, he looked around and saw a majority of male faces laughing and cheering—led by his damn, disreputable brothers, of course.
He grinned, then faced Sophie again. She started to speak, but he covered her mouth with a finger. “I love you, Sophie.”
Her eyes widened.
He leaned closer still, speaking in a rough whisper. “I’ve waited seven months to spend the night with you, and it was worth it. But I’ll be damned if I’ll wait anymore. I love you, I want you. Now and forever, regardless of what name you go by, or how you dress. You’re mine now. Get used to it.”
He waited, but her big smoky eyes never wavered from his. She was completely still except for the pulse racing in her throat. Cautiously, he lifted his finger. “Well?”
She swallowed audibly. “All right.”
By small degrees, his frown lifted and his mouth quirked. She’d said yes. “You want me, too?”
“I’ve wanted you since the very first time I saw you.”
He kissed her again, then asked, “Why the hell did you run from me today? Christ, I almost went nuts when I woke up and you were gone.”
“I’m sorry. I felt stupid—”
“Damn it, Sophie—”
