When he came to Sophia’s number, he stood outside the door a moment, listening for sound. What if she had someone else in there? He should have called first. Or at the very least, texted. Well, it was too late now. He was here. And if he didn’t see her soon, he would explode.
He pushed the doorbell and heard it ring inside the apartment. He held his breath, listening for the sound of her footsteps. But there were none. After a minute or two, he pushed the bell again, a little more insistently. Still nothing.
He took a step back, pondering what to do. He glanced at his watch. Maybe she had stayed a little late at her shop with a last-minute customer. Or maybe she’d stopped on the way home to pick up dry cleaning or some groceries.
He set down the bag and placed the flower box carefully on top of it. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and settled back to wait.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Nick slid down to the worn carpet and rested his back against the wall, legs extended, his eyes fixed on the stairwell door. After fifteen more minutes had gone by, Nick forced himself to admit that Sophia probably wasn’t coming home any time soon. For all he knew, she had already been to her apartment and gone out again. At this moment, she could be engaged in a hot scene at that club she liked to go to—The Den? Or, she might be out with some other guy. Or worse, at his place, in his bed…
Stop it, he admonished himself. Whatever she was doing, it wasn’t really his business, even though he’d like it to be. He’d agreed with her friends-with-benefits arrangement when she’d proposed it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now, he could admit, at least to himself, it was the worst idea ever.
Hopefully, that was all about to change.
Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his card case and removed a business card. Taking out his pen, he wrote on the back, I have some news I want to share. I need to see you. Love, Nick.
He positioned the bag and flowers in front of the door. Hopefully, no one would steal the gifts, but if they did, they did. He slipped the card just under the flower box ribbon and turned back for the stairs. He would find a pub or something nearby and settle down to wait. He wouldn’t check his work email or the balances in his various investment accounts. He wouldn’t call his attorney or his accountant for updates on their progress.
He would simply sit and wait.
There was nothing more important right now than waiting for Sophia—nothing at all.
~*~
Sophia climbed the stairs, thumbing through the flyers and junk mail as she moved toward her floor. It had been good to hang out with Laura over pizza and beer. She would have been happy to stay out longer, but Laura had needed to get home. Maybe, now that it was the weekend, Nick would finally have time to get together.
If he didn’t, she’d go to The Den tomorrow night. She absolutely, positively would not become one of those women who pined after some guy. No way. Not happening.
She saw something in front of her apartment door as she made her way down the hall. Curious what it might be, she walked faster. “Whoa, what’s this?” she breathed as she got to her door.
There was a long, narrow box wrapped in a red satin ribbon. It sat on top of a large white shopping bag with sturdy handles. She plucked out the small card stuck just under the red ribbon and read it.
“Nick,” she exclaimed aloud. “Nick was here.”
When she’d given him her building code, she’d had fantasies of his showing up in the middle of the night and swooping in to have his dark, evil way with her. That had yet to happen, but clearly, he’d remembered the code.
And now, he had news. He needed to see her. How mysterious!
She unlocked her door and gathered up the things he’d left for her. Inside, she moved through her tiny apartment and sat on the sofa, placing the items on the small coffee table along with her purse and the junk mail. First, she plucked at the ribbon and opened the box. She drew in her breath as she took in what had to be easily two dozen of the most beautiful, perfect long-stemmed red roses she had ever seen. She lifted one of the roses to her nose. The fragrance was fruity and delicate. The base of the stem was nestled in a rubber-tipped floral glass water vial, as were all the roses in the box.
She set the stem carefully back into the box and peered into the large shopping bag. She pulled out two bottles of Veuve Cliquot and a ridiculously large box of chocolates with La Maison du Chocolat stamped in black letters on the lid.
“Holy shit,” she breathed aloud. “What’s this all about? Did he just close another insanely profitable real estate deal? Maybe buy a small country? Or is he just feeling guilty for being too busy to connect face-to-face for the past several days?”
Whatever his reason, that chocolate was calling her name, in spite of the earlier pizza and beer. Unable to resist, she pushed off the brown ribbon wrapped around the chocolate box and opened the lid. The most heavenly scent of rich chocolate assailed her as she stared down at row upon row of beautifully-made candies. She picked up one and took a bite, moaning aloud with pleasure as the rich, velvety flavors burst on her tongue.
As she chewed, her eye fell again on Nick’s card. When had he come by? Why hadn’t he called or texted?
One way to find out.
Fishing her phone from her purse, she started to text, but then decided against it. Even if the news was going to be bad, he deserved a call for the lovely gifts. She licked her lips as she waited for the call to connect, savoring the last bit of chocolate on her tongue.
Nick answered on the first ring. “Sophia?”
“Hi,” she replied. “I just ate the best piece of chocolate I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Ah, that’s a relief,” he said. “I was worried someone might take the stuff.”
“Nope. I’m looking at a couple dozen of the most beautiful roses I’ve ever seen, along with those awesome chocolates and two bottles of champagne. Now, all I need is the guy who brought them.”
“I’ll be right there. I’m down the block at a pub. I was waiting for you.”
“Why didn’t you text? Laura and I were having pizza at a neighborhood hangout. I could have met you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, sounding a little out of breath, as if he were already running toward her.
“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll leave the door…” She didn’t finish the sentence, realizing he’d already clicked off.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” she murmured as she stood to put the flowers in a vase and the champagne into the fridge.
It occurred to her then—she still didn’t know if his news was good or bad.
Chapter 11
Nick raced up the four flights of stairs, his heart pounding. This was it. This was the moment when things either soared or plummeted between them.
When he got to her apartment, he started to ring the bell but then saw the door was ajar. Giving it a push, he said, “Sophia?”
“Come on in,” she called.
He squeezed down a narrow entrance hall containing a bicycle, a backpack and a pair of sneakers. He stepped into a small but very nicely appointed living room. The roses stood in a blue glass vase on a small, octagon-shaped table beneath a large window. He could see what must be the bedroom through an open doorway.
“Back here,” Sophia said.
Following her voice, he moved toward a rice paper screen. Behind the screen was a tiny kitchen with barely enough space for the top-freezer refrigerator and a two-burner hotplate and microwave set on the single counter. The box of chocolates was on the counter too.
Sophia stood at the sink, her long, curly hair hanging in ringlets down her back. She turned as he stopped in the doorway. She wore a long, colorful tunic, her feet and legs bare. She grabbed a towel to wipe her sudsy hands and held out her arms to him, her face dimpling in a wide smile.
“There’s my prince charming—my bringer of chocolates and champagne, the perfect finish to sausage and onion pizza.
”
Laughing, Nick went to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her for a long time. She kissed him back, her hands circling his neck as he held her close.
When they parted, she looked up at him. “I can’t take the mystery another second. What’s all this about?”
“I have good news. Exciting news.”
In spite of this declaration and his firm belief it was true, a stab of anxiety poked at Nick’s gut. He didn’t want to put pressure on Sophia by giving her the impression he’d done this for her. Yes, she’d been the impetus in highlighting the emptiness of a life lived only for work, but he’d done this for himself—for his own sanity.
He noticed the two champagne flutes drying on the rack beside the sink. “How about let’s pop a cork and have a glass?”
Sophia flashed a grin. “You’re determined to make me wait, huh? This is worse than waiting on the sequel after a really good cliff hanger,” she teased. “But, okay. I’m not one to refuse a glass of good champagne.”
He had to step out of the tiny space so she could open the refrigerator door. She took out one of the bottles and handed it to him. Picking up the two glasses, she said, “Let’s walk the three steps from my vast kitchen to my huge living room.”
“I love your place,” he said sincerely, following her to the couch. “It’s got a certain quirky charm.”
“Thanks. I think,” she replied with a chuckle. “As long as you’re not claustrophobic, it’s a great place to live. I love this neighborhood.”
Nick peeled the foil from the cork and untwisted the metal housing that held it in place. Holding the bottle away from her, he popped the cork. He filled the glasses and handed one to Sophia.
She lifted it in a toast. “To friends with seriously excellent benefits,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
They clinked glasses and sipped. Nick drew in a breath, ready at last to fully speak his mind. “That’s the thing,” he said, turning toward her on the sofa. “I don’t want that. Not anymore.”
“You don’t want the benefits? Or to be friends?” she replied, that impish grin again on her face.
He set down his glass and took hers, too, gently from her hand. “Sophia,” he said. “I’ve sold my business.”
She looked at him a moment without appearing to comprehend. “What?”
“The real estate development business. The deal isn’t quite final, but I’ve got several buyers very interested and I’m definitely moving forward with this.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “That’s good, I guess?” She made the sentence a question.
“It’s very good,” he said emphatically. “It’s what I want. I’m done working 24/7. I want more in my life.”
Nick waited for more of a reaction. While he hadn’t necessarily expected her to leap to her feet and squeal with excitement, he’d hoped for more than her somewhat bemused response.
He leaned toward her, speaking from his heart. “I didn’t do this for you, Sophia, if that’s what’s freaking you out. I did it for me. Meeting you—connecting with you—has made me reexamine my priorities. I’ve come to realize that my life has basically been one non-stop workday. I’m never not working. And for what? I have plenty of money. All the money I need and then some. I have my BDSM clubs, and I have plans to develop more. But, for the first time in my life, I want more than just work.” He took a breath, and then said the real thing—the main thing. “I want you.”
Sophia got to her feet. But instead of moving closer and falling into his arms, she turned away. “I need chocolate,” she said, heading toward the kitchen in almost a run.
Nick rose too, following her, uncertain what was happening.
Her back was to him in the kitchenette, the lid of the chocolate box now open. Apparently sensing his presence behind her, she said, “I’m sorry I’m being so weird. I think it’s really great you’re examining the priorities in your life and making positive changes. It’s just… I’m not entirely sure what this means—for us.”
Nick moved closer, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Sophia, we’re both old enough and have been through enough to know when something is real. And this is real. And I don’t want to keep fucking it up by not being there. Yeah—when we’re together, the sex is hot and the BDSM play is off the charts. But I want more than that. Relationships need nurturing and attention to grow. Don’t think I’m not aware of how often I’ve let you down, even in the short time we’ve known each other.”
Finally she turned to face him. “So, you’re saying you’re ready for more than friends with benefits?” Her smile was tentative—hopeful?
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied, taking both her hands in his. “Though our BDSM play has been seriously incredible, it’s no longer enough to just scene with you and then fuck you. I want to make love to you. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms. I want to wake up with you next to me in the bed. I want to go grocery shopping with you. I want to travel with you. I want to stay home with you. I want to go estate sale hunting with you. I want to see your shop and meet your friends.”
“Nick,” she said softly, her eyes shining.
“I’ve always held myself back,” Nick continued, needing for her to understand. “I told myself it was because I had no time for a relationship. But the truth was, I’d never found the one. And now I have. You’re the one, Sophia.” His voice cracked with emotion.
He was done being careful. His heart was hers, and he had to let her know, in no uncertain terms. “I love you, Sophia,” he declared. It was the first time he’d said the words aloud. They were the truest words he’d ever spoken. “I want you in my life. I want you as my partner, with everything that entails.”
He forgot how to breathe as he waited for her response.
Her eyes were luminous with tears. Taking his face between her hands, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips. The tears brimmed over and rolled down her cheeks. “Nick,” she whispered. “Oh, Nick. I love you, too. I’ve loved you from the first day we met.” Her arms circled his neck, pulling him down for a proper kiss.
As he held her, losing himself in her taste, touch and scent, his heart lifted, bubbles of joy popping inside him like the finest champagne. As they kissed, he lifted her into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her from the kitchenette, through the living room and into the bedroom.
They fell together onto the bed, still wrapped in each other’s arms, their kisses increasingly ardent. Nick’s cock had morphed into an iron bar in his trousers. His hands roamed hungrily beneath her tunic. His fingers found the clasp of her front-closure bra and he popped it open so he could cup her lovely breasts.
She moaned against his mouth as he rolled her nipples. Dominant lust heated his blood, and he twisted her nipples, pulling a sexy cry of erotic pain from her lips.
Desperate to feel skin on skin, he rolled from the bed and quickly tore off his clothing, tossing it aside. Sophia, her eyes fixed on him, slipped off her panties and lifted her tunic over her head.
Returning to the bed, he lifted himself over her, he moved his right hand to her throat, circling it and pressing hard just beneath her jaw.
Her eyes widened as she stared up at him, her lips parting. “I’m going to claim you fully, Sophia Naomi Weinstein,” he growled, power surging through his veins. “You will belong to me in every sense of the word.”
“Yes,” she whispered breathily, her pulse throbbing beneath his fingers around her throat.
All at once, she wriggled from his grasp and shifted so he fell away from her. She climbed over him, straddling his hips. Her nipples were erect, her dimples showing, her eyes sparkling, she said, “And you’ll belong to me, too, Nicholas William Kincaid. Lock, stock and barrel.”
Laughing, Nick flipped her easily over onto her back. Reaching for her arms, he circled her wrists and pressed them into the mattress over her head. “It’s a deal,” he said.
As he looked down at her, he lost himself in
her gaze. “I am my beloved’s,” he whispered, the old biblical phrase for some reason leaping into his brain.
“And my beloved is mine,” she replied softly.
Epilogue – Six Months Later
Sophia turned slowly, taking in the dimensions of the wonderful if rather rundown townhouse in London’s Peckham district. It definitely needed work—lots of it—to bring it up to Impulse standards, but the bones of the place were good.
“What do you think?” Nick asked. “The price is high, but I think I could get it down a little. And even if I can’t, it seems ideal for our first London club, don’t you agree? It’s got all those wonderful nooks and crannies where we could create little mini-dungeons for private play, and this downstairs space is perfect for the main gathering place.”
“I love it,” Sophia agreed. “We could set up the top floor with the VIP bedrooms, like you have back in New York. We could even add a small kitchen up there and put in a decent bathroom, so we could stay here while we’re in town.”
“Great idea,” Nick said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m going to make a bid for it this afternoon. I’ve got a meeting with my broker, or estate agent, as they call them over here.”
“Cool. And while you’re doing that, there’s this great vintage flea market I want to check out over on Church Street.”
The last six months had been, hands down, the best of Sophia’s life. Nick had been serious about selling his real estate business. And while his clubs and her shop still kept them each plenty busy, they came home at night to each other and made sure to take at least one day a week totally off.
Sophia had been surprised but pleased when Nick hadn’t seemed to mind that she didn’t want to move to his penthouse in Manhattan. He understood and accepted that she wanted to be closer to her shop, and to her family. Obviously, her studio apartment wouldn’t do for both of them, but Nick had found a wonderful old, rambling single family home in Park Slope. They’d moved in together, and Sophia was having a great time fixing it up.
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