Eventually, he pulled away and stared down at her with a look of such tenderness it took her breath away. Letting go of one of her wrists, he stroked her hair from her face. “Sophia,” he murmured. “I…”
He didn’t finish the thought, instead lowering his head again to kiss her mouth as he again reached for her free wrist, pinning it once more to the bed. He moved inside her, thrusting hard, his skin hot against her. His cock was again stroking her sweet spot from the inside out and this time he didn’t stop when she tensed and trembled beneath him, balanced on the edge of a climax.
“Oh, god, oh, god,” she cried as tremors of pleasure racked her body.
Letting go of her wrists, he slid his hands beneath her and rolled to his back, taking her with him, his cock still buried deep inside.
She lifted herself into a sitting position astride his hips, her hands resting on his shoulders for support. He reached for her breasts, cupping them. Then his fingers found her nipples. He rolled them, each sensual caress making her nerve endings sing with pleasure. Then he twisted sharply, the erotic pain shooting directly to her cunt, which spasmed around his shaft.
“Take the pain,” he growled in a low, sexy voice. He twisted harder, his fingers tight around her throbbing nipples. “And give me the pleasure.” He lifted his hips, thrusting even deeper inside her.
She responded in kind, swiveling and grinding her splayed cunt against his pubic bone. It was all so perfect—his cock filling her, the throb at her clit as they moved against one another, the perfect erotic pain at her breasts as he twisted and teased.
“Oh, god, oh, god,” she chanted again as waves of pleasure rose higher and higher inside her.
Nick was breathing hard now, his eyes fixed on her as he thrust upward to meet her gyrations. His hands fell away from her breasts, reaching for her hips. “Yes,” he hissed, moving her back and forth over him. The perfect friction against her clit drove her nearly out of her mind as she orgasmed against him with a protracted cry of raw pleasure.
The tendons on his neck stood out, his color high, sweat on his brow. “Fuck, yes,” he panted, jerking against her. “Sophia. Oh, Sophia…” The words were like a caress.
He stiffened suddenly and then spurted in a hard spasm inside her. His movements sent a series of climactic aftershocks through her frame, making her shudder and gasp as she fell forward against him.
Strong arms came around her, enfolding her in a warm embrace. Nick rolled to his side, taking her with him so they lay face-to-face on the bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, his perfect cock still inside her.
They lay quietly for a long while as their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. Sophia drifted in a quiet, warm place, her body sated, her mind pleasantly empty. What a lovely way to fall asleep…
Eventually, Nick pulled away from her. Gently, he pushed the hair from her eyes. “Sophia?” he asked softly, pulling her from a light doze.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
Nick had lifted himself on one elbow. He regarded her with a cocked eyebrow.
“Hmmm?” she asked lazily.
“Don’t even think about going to sleep,” he said, chuckling. “Now that we took the edge off, I’m going to take my time. I’m going to make love to you all night long.”
Sophia briefly thought of protesting. She was tired—exhausted even—from the amazing events of the evening. Yet, his words had reawakened her body, which tingled all over with anticipation. She couldn’t seem to get enough of this guy.
“What the hell,” she said with a laugh and a toss of her head. She opened her arms to receive him. “Sleep is for the meek.”
Sophia squinted into the pale lavender pre-dawn light that washed the room. The bed was empty beside her. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then, she remembered.
“Nick?” she called softly, assuming he must be in the bathroom.
Speaking of which, she needed to pee. She threw back the covers and padded to the toilet. The ambient glow of a large nightlight was enough to see by, but the room was empty. Where was Nick?
She peed and then splashed water on her hands and face. She returned to the bedroom, where there was still no sign of him. More awake now, she stepped into the living room.
Nick was at his desk in a pair of shorts, his broad back bare. “I get it,” he was saying quietly but urgently into the phone. “Brian… Brian, stop it. Calm down. It’s going to be fine. I’m sure we can… No. I told you, I’ll be there when—”
“Nick?” Sophia asked softly.
Nick whipped around in the chair. “Sophia,” he said, clearly startled. She could hear a masculine voice talking loudly and urgently through the phone. Frowning, Nick said, “Brian. Brian, stop a second. Hold on. Listen, I’ll call you back. No. I promise. I’ll call you right back.”
He pressed a button on the screen and set down the phone. He smiled at Sophia, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No,” she replied, wrapping her arms around her torso, suddenly cold. “At least, I don’t think you did. I woke up and you weren’t in the bed, so…”
“Yeah.” He shrugged apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I got up and made the incredibly stupid mistake of checking my cell phone. We’ve still got some funding issues and Brian is going berserk.” His phone buzzed on the desk. He placed his hand firmly over it.
“It’s bad, huh?” Sophia commiserated. “I assume this is the same deal that’s been distracting you since you got here?” She strove to keep her tone neutral and kind. It was clear that whatever he was dealing with was upsetting him—and his business partner—quite a bit.
“Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “I may have to”—he broke off, dragging a hand over his forehead and pushing back his hair. “Fuck. I hate this. But I’m afraid…” He looked up at her, his eyes beseeching. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut my vacation short. This deal is going to completely fall apart if I don’t get back there and do some hands-on damage control.”
Sophia’s first instinct was to wail, Noooooooo! You can’t go, you bastard. Not now—not when something amazing is happening between us. She bit back the words, reminding herself they’d known each other for what – three days and change? She had no claim on Nick however amazing their time together had been.
He was a work-driven guy who placed his career above everything else. That was starkly clear at this moment. And who was she to blame him? She ran her own business too, albeit on a much smaller scale. She knew there were times when only your presence would do, no matter how much support you thought you’d put in place.
Be a grown up, she counseled herself as she struggled to swallow her bitter disappointment. He feels bad enough…
“Hey,” she managed, pushing her mouth into something she hoped approximated a smile. “I get it. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. Maybe we can reconnect at some point. Once I’m back in the city and once you’ve put out all your many fires…”
Nick rose from the desk and moved toward her. He took her into his arms. She held herself stiff at first, unable to settle into his embrace. But she relented as he held her close, stroking her hair as he murmured, “I’m so sorry, Sophia. Thank you for understanding. And, yes. Definitely. We’ll definitely reconnect once you get back.”
She let him kiss her, but something inside her heart—a window that had been opened for the first time in a long while—slid silently closed.
Chapter 7
Sophia punched in the keycode beside the glass door of her small Brooklyn apartment building. The actual flight time to JFK from Norfolk, Virginia, the closest major airport to the Outer Banks, had been under two hours. But she’d been traveling for over twelve, including the boat from the island at seven that morning to Hatteras, the two and a half hour shuttle ride to Norfolk, the wait time in the airport, the crush of people at JFK, the air train to the subway and finally, the subway’s R train to the 36th Street station.
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Juggling her bags and the flowers wrapped in newspaper she’d bought on a whim from a street vendor, Sophia fished for her mailbox key in her purse. She’d forgotten to put her mail on hold before leaving for vacation. The tiny mailbox was crammed with junk mail wedged in so tight she had to use two hands to get it out.
Laura, her assistant, as well as her best friend, had kept everything running smoothly at the shop while she was gone. But there was something wrong with the point of sale equipment that needed to be addressed right away. And several large boxes had just arrived from Sophia’s last scavenging trip to various estate sales in upstate New York. She was excited to see the pieces again, some of which she’d gotten for far less than they were worth. She couldn’t wait to get them all cleaned up, priced and out onto her tiny showroom floor. Sophia had been planning to stop by the shop on her way home, but she’d been too beat.
“Don’t worry,” Laura had said, a smile in her voice when Sophia had called on her walk from the subway station to her building. “It’ll all still be there tomorrow. Get a good night’s rest and I’ll see you in the morning. I can’t wait to hear all about your kinky adventures.”
Laura, who was in her late twenties and recently married, wasn’t actively into BDSM. But she was aware of and completely comfortable with Sophia’s kink. She had even gone with Sophia to a BDSM club a couple of times, mostly to gawk. And she had recently confided that she and her new husband, Ben, had added what they called “BDSM lite” to their sexual repertoire, including fuzzy wrist cuffs and playful spankings.
The tiny elevator was out of order, as usual, so Sophia trudged up the four flights to her apartment. She unlocked and opened her door. Edging past her bicycle in the narrow front hall, she dropped her bags to the floor with a relieved sigh.
The building she lived in was nothing to write home about, with its crumbling red brick façade, tiny front lobby and perennially broken elevator. But she loved her apartment, most especially because of the light. The place had surprisingly large windows, set so she got both the early morning and afternoon light. She’d reupholstered some wonderful Art Deco armchairs and a loveseat in a lovely pale lemony yellow floral that always made her smile.
Heading into her kitchenette, she pulled out two vases from the cabinet. She arranged the pretty white and yellow hydrangeas she’d purchased and brought them back out to the living room. The air was stuffy, despite the central air the landlord had recently put in. The sun hadn’t yet set so she opened a window, letting in the sound of children playing, hydraulic breaks squealing, honking horns and a siren in the distance.
It was quite a contrast to the peacefully breaking waves and seagull cries she’d enjoyed over the past week on the island, but she loved the sounds of the city just as much, if not more.
And Nick lived only a subway ride away.
For a sudden, insane instant, she very nearly turned around and dashed out the door. They’d exchanged contact information and she’d looked up his address—a swanky, doorman-attended building near Central Park. She could call for an Uber and be there in under an hour.
Except that he wasn’t there.
She pulled her cell from her bag and read his text message again, just in case she’d gotten it wrong. But no. The words hadn’t changed.
“Hey, there. I know we were planning to meet as soon as you got back. Unfortunately, I have to fly down to Houston tomorrow. I’ve finally got this deal back on track, but there’s a venture capital group down there I want to meet with face-to-face before I bring them onboard. I should be back early tomorrow evening. I can’t wait to see you, sexy girl!”
She’d resisted the urge to retort something extremely snarky, instead only replying, “Good luck with your venture capitalists.”
But now, alone in her apartment, she didn’t have to hide her true feelings. She didn’t need to put on a brave face or pretend she was as cool with all this as Nick seemed to be.
But underlying the frustration, her heart actually ached with the absence of him. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if that would ease the pain. She’d let down her guard, and Nick had come tumbling into her life, whether she wanted him there or not.
During their insanely brief but passionately intense connection, she’d finally found someone she could trust, totally and completely. He not only understood her need for dark, edgy erotic intensity, he embraced it along with her. Even within the BDSM scene, that kind of connection was as rare as hen’s teeth.
Now she was forced to ask herself—was what they’d shared something that could only exist in the rarified air of a place like Desire Island? Could that sort of intensity and passion continue now that they were back in the real world?
It takes two, Sophia, a voice whispered in her head. If you shut him out—if you’re too afraid to take the chance, then you’ll definitely be left with only memories.
Sophia sighed. The little voice was right. But it wasn’t only up to her.
Following Nick’s departure, the rest of her vacation had played out well enough. She’d refused to sulk. Instead, she’d flung herself into various seminars, especially enjoying the BDSM yoga relaxation and positions classes offered by a lively, friendly staff slave called Abbie. Though Sophia wasn’t at all flexible or particularly graceful, when she took the classes with the serenely smiling Abbie, she’d been able to fully relax, putting all thoughts of Nick aside, at least for that hour. And she’d had one more surfing lesson, which had been fun. She’d actually managed to stand up on the board, even if it had been for less than three seconds.
She’d gone to the dungeon parties each night as well, engaging in casual scenes with guys whose names she forgot almost before she knew them. While none of the scenes came close to the intensity of experience and passion she’d found with Nick, she’d managed to enjoy herself, more or less.
Nick had texted her perhaps a dozen times since he’d left the island. It was mostly sexy banter, mixed in with his continued apologies for cutting his vacation short, and excitement at seeing her again. She’d texted back light, breezy responses. She’d kept her stronger feelings under wraps, both the positive and the negative.
They hadn’t spoken on the phone, though he’d called and left voice messages a few times. Several times she’d picked up her phone, her fingers poised to return the calls, but she hadn’t followed through. She’d been afraid her anger would come out, and she would start making demands on a man who, despite their astonishing connection, she really had no claim on.
Now, she went into her bedroom, most of which was taken up with a wonderful Henredon dark ash sleigh bed she’d found at a barn sale in Pennsylvania Dutch country. Though she was in desperate need of a shower, the bed was calling her name, with its brightly patterned Mennonite patchwork quilt and pile of down pillows.
Giving in to temptation, she flung herself onto the bed with a contented sigh. There was nothing like your own pillows on your own bed, especially after having been away. She closed her eyes and fell almost at once into a deep sleep, too exhausted even to dream.
~*~
Nick had been working pretty much nonstop since he’d returned to New York, trying to salvage the teetering Cabot deal. Brian’s inability to cope on his own had made some things clear to Nick, not so much about Brian but about himself. While he’d brought Brian in with the intention of making him a full-fledged partner, he’d always held such tight reins on the business that Brian hadn’t really had a chance to get his feet wet and his hands dirty. With Nick always right there, he wasn’t used to handling crises on his own.
Now, finally, it looked like the deal was back on track, but at what cost?
The prospect of losing a deal wasn’t one he had been willing to entertain. His priority had always been business first, pleasure second. When he’d cut his vacation short and hightailed it off the island and away from Sophia, he hadn’t really considered the potential repercussions.
In the past, if a woman he was dating balked and hit the
road because his work obligations got in the way of their relationship, he would shrug and move on. He was too busy to spend his time trying to win back someone who didn’t want to be with him on his terms.
He had, he was beginning to understand, always taken the women in his life for granted. Whatever compromises had to be made were made by them. It hadn’t mattered that much to him before.
But it mattered now.
Sophia had seemed to be understanding about his need to salvage this deal. But he’d sensed the coolness of her texted responses and was keenly aware she hadn’t returned his phone calls. He’d promised himself he’d make it all right when she got back. He’d planned to surprise her by being at JFK, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, when she returned that evening.
Instead, he was sitting on a plane, heading in the wrong direction. He waved away the airline attendant’s offer of another scotch and soda. “What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered to himself as the plane descended. He glared out the window at the thick bank of clouds that hung over Houston like a shroud.
You’re clinching the deal. You’re going to be a million dollars richer once you finally put this one to bed.
Again, he wondered, at what cost?
It wasn’t like he needed the damn money. And if that deal had fallen apart, there would be other ones—probably better, less risky ones.
But there wasn’t another Sophia.
He’d never met anyone like her—someone who so perfectly fit his groove. The time he’d spent with her, albeit brief, was like nothing he’d experienced before. She was this amazing combination of strong, independent, free spirit and delicious submissive masochist. She could keep up with every dark fantasy he entertained, pushing his limits along with her own. It was exhilarating. Everything about her was just right. And he had a million diabolically wonderful ideas in mind for when they got back together.
He was beyond frustrated about the unexpected trip to Houston. He couldn’t wait to see Sophia again. He would repair whatever damage had been done. He would make it up to her. That was a promise—both to her and to himself.
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