He couldn’t help but grin. “No. One man has already accosted you tonight. I want to make sure you make it home safe.”
“You didn’t accost me.” She rubbed her arms through her sweatshirt in the crisp October air. “But if you want to play the Boy Scout, I’ll let you.”
“Good.” He smiled, deactivating his alarm as he stepped to the curb.
“This is your car?”
He was used to the response. She was a beauty. A very expensive beauty, but he had a soft spot for her. “Yes,” he said, opening the door carefully. Sophie eyed him strangely as she slid inside. Circling around, he let himself in.
“I can’t believe you actually fit in here,” she said once he closed his door.
…
Sophie squeezed her thighs together and tried to think about anything but sex. Which, of course, didn’t work. Even though David had been just going through the motions with her in class, she’d been right on the brink of climaxing. Now, she was walking a razor’s edge of desire. If she knew how, she’d seduce him right there.
But she didn’t. Their brief interlude in class had been the closest she’d ever come in reality. Her fantasies were vivid, her dreams lucid, but she had no tangible experience. It had been fantastic, the feel of him over her and the sensation of him hardening between her legs filling her body and mind with thousands of blissful sensations. She’d always wondered if she could provoke that kind of response from a man. She smiled, pleased at her new knowledge.
She watched him grip the steering wheel tightly. Even his hands were big. She covered her mouth as the smile broadened. She was going to have to buy a new vibrator. Her fantasies of him would not be complete without a more accurate substitute.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of him that permeated the car. Soap, skin, and a touch of cologne. She wanted to remember the smell for later.
She’d decided to take him up on his offer of a ride for the same reason she did most anything these days. She would have regretted not having done it. Her mother’s last words to her were, “A full life, no regrets.” She’d barely been lucid at the end, so whether she’d been talking about her own life, or voicing a wish for her daughters, Sophie wasn’t sure. Either way, it seemed like a good motto. Ever since, she took a mental check each night. Just as she’d decided to swallow her fear and teach the class with him, she’d taken a chance and climbed in his car when he offered.
Not that she was reckless with her impulses. She’d fantasized about David Strong ever since Daphne had shown her a picture of him ten years ago. The picture was of David and Craig. Daphne had meant to show off her new boyfriend, but it had sparked a crush in her teenage sister.
Her sister’s disgust with David’s womanizing hadn’t put Sophie off. It had only made him safer as a fantasy. Tall, dark, and handsome CEOs didn’t have anything to do with short, chubby wallflowers. She couldn’t do anything about her height, but taking over Daphne’s classes had melted the chub, and now that she had the time, she was starting to have a life.
She inhaled his scent again, memorizing every nuance. She turned and watched him as he drove, his brown eyes staring intently forward. She fought an urge to reach out and trace his prominent brow, cheekbones, and the square of his jaw. Lenore wouldn’t be the only one fantasizing about him tonight.
…
David tried to remember the last time he’d been to a grocery store. College maybe? If there was anything at all in his fridge, his sister had put it there. Kelly was wonderful about leaving ice cream and chips in her wake.
“If we split the list, it will go faster.” Sophie smiled up at him.
“Okay.” He shrugged, taking the torn piece of notebook paper from her hand. He scanned the items. All produce. “What’s on your list?” he asked, taking it from her hand. More produce. He knew it. Women ate weird. His sister was the only sane woman in the entire world.
“The joy of having a nutritionist for a brother-in-law. Craig’s using me to test his latest diet plan,” she explained.
He took a step back and looked at her again. Even in sweats, she looked fit. “Why?”
She waved her hand. “Who can keep track of Craig’s reasons? I indulge him. To a point.”
“You should do his Deliver-Ease. It actually has real food, not just vegetables.” And since the plan was run through Strong Gyms, utilizing it let him do a little quality control.
She raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re on his diet plan?”
“You’re not the only one who indulges Craig. Besides, it’s easy. Comes right to the office. I don’t even have to think about it.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “But why are you on a diet?”
“I’m not.” He pushed the cart forward, away from the lettuce. “Craig decided twenty years ago that he knew better than I did what I should be eating. It’s a habit from way back.” He didn’t want to get into his bodybuilding days. It had been an obsession for him for a while, something he and Craig had done together. But it was not an arena he had ever excelled in. He’d just gotten by. He wasn’t comfortable being average.
Sophie began to study the different lettuces so David attacked his list. How did one pick out a cantaloupe? He looked at the melons piled atop one another. Should he grab the one on top or did you study the specimens the way she was now sizing up the citrus? He picked up two, weighing each in his hands. How could a person possibly know which one to buy? He moved his hands together, eying the fruit, trying to squeeze them to find some difference. They looked exactly the same.
She was suddenly in front of him, taking away the cantaloupes and replacing them with grapefruits. “This is much more realistic, David, unless you’re into fakes.” It took him a minute to realize her insinuation.
“I was not…not…” he stammered
“Feeling up the fruit? Sure you were. It’s okay, your secrets are safe with me.” Her smile told him she was teasing as she turned the cart toward the apples.
He stomped after her. “I thought you weren’t into apples.” He smiled as she blushed, obviously recalling her earlier lecture.
“Apples can be good. As long as they are part of a whole bowl of fruit and not the only thing in the dish.” She gave him a cocky grin.
He laughed, full and deep. This girl was a piece of work. “You handle the fruit, since you are the expert. I’ll stick with the vegetables.” He couldn’t help himself—as he brushed past her, he leaned in and whispered, “Just how big do you like your cucumbers?”
Chapter Three
“This is it,” Sophie said as David turned his car into the driveway. The Victorian house had been converted into numerous apartments. She sighed at the look of disapproval on his face. She knew she didn’t live in the nicest neighborhood, but it was far from the worst.
She had planned on using the profits from the sale of her parents’ house for a new condo downtown, but Daphne had needed more money for the gym, so Sophie had set aside her plans and become a partner in her sister’s business instead.
She didn’t really feel like an owner, in spite of her comments to David earlier. The gym was Daphne’s brainchild, not hers. She was just there to help out until Daphne returned to run the show. Then she could finally get on with her own life, wherever that was going.
Before joining Daphne at the gym, Sophie had been a forensic accountant. It was a good job, paying more than twice her current salary, and she was good at it. But it was just a job, and the hours were horrendous. Which was probably why it had been so easy for her to agree to join Daphne at Working It Out.
“You certainly are a full-service Boy Scout,” Sophie said as he carried the grocery bags up the staircase leading to her apartment.
“You really should have your landlord install more floodlights. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone in the dark.”
She waved her hand dismissively as she used her key to open the door. She only ever saw this place in the dark. She left for work befor
e the sun came up and came home once it was down. Flipping on the light, she kicked off her sneakers, glad for the warmth of the apartment. She was usually cold, which was why she left the heat on and wore sweats over her work clothes.
He paused inside the doorway and surveyed her space. She scooted around him and closed the door against the cool breeze blowing outside. She wondered how her apartment would look to a man. She turned, trying to gauge his reaction to her sparsely decorated home.
All of the furniture was new. She hadn’t wanted to keep much from her parents’ house. The crocheted red blanket her father had kept over his leg once he was in the wheelchair was draped across the white micro-fiber sofa. She’d taken the two pictures over the couch herself for a photography class in college. In them, Haystack Rock and the Cape Meares lighthouse loomed over the ocean. She liked them for the way she remembered feeling that day. She’d been free in that moment, just a day at the beach. No in-home healthcare nurses to deal with, no doctor appointments to attend.
The TV and DVD were angled in the corner, a twenty-year-old family portrait sat on top of the entertainment center. Her lease mandated the walls stay white, so she added color with a crimson rug on the dark wood floors. It should look nice enough—not that she wanted to care what he thought. “The kitchen is over here,” she said, turning into the narrow room.
He followed right behind her. “It’s small.” His voice was so soft she barely heard him.
“So am I,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood as she unloaded the bags into the refrigerator. Shopping with David had been fun, quite the opposite of Craig’s usual lectures. She was grateful Craig had helped her get healthier and actually have enough energy to make it through her long day, but he wasn’t much fun.
“This place smells like apple pie,” David said, leaning against her kitchen table.
“Mmmm,” she agreed, shoving a bunch of celery into the crisper and closing the refrigerator door. “Apple butter, I’ve had it cooking all day.” Opening the freezer, she pulled out a plastic bag of cornmeal waffles. “Would you like some?” She slid two waffles in the toaster.
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
She’d never had a man in her apartment before. Just Craig, and he didn’t count. Her place was too small to entertain, and she didn’t have the time anyway. It made her anxious, having him step out of her fantasies and be here, watching.
She kept busy, ladling the apple butter from the slow-cooker into small plastic containers. She’d placed the apples and spices in before work, knowing she would come home to comfort. Her mother had taught her dozens of different slow-cooker recipes. She loaded up the crock almost every morning. Coming home to the wonderful smells made her feel less alone.
After the waffles popped up, she spread one with apple butter and handed it to David. “Even Craig would approve. It’s completely fat free.” She quickly turned around, not wanting to watch his face in case he didn’t like it.
A minute ago, she had been hungry, but now her stomach danced around so fast she wasn’t sure if she could eat. She set the plastic containers aside to cool and washed out the crock-pot. She cleared a space on the counter and pulled herself up to sit on it. That way, she wouldn’t have to look up at him. “You want another one?” she asked, noticing his empty hands.
“Sure.” He stepped forward and took the waffle spread with apple butter from her fingers. It took him one stride to cross the room. She laughed under her breath and placed two more waffles in the toaster.
“What?” He finished his treat in two bites.
“I never realized how small my kitchen was until you crossed it with one step.”
“Sorry,” he said, his shoulders slouching slightly.
She hadn’t meant to make him self-conscious. But it was hard not to think about his size when he was so close. He was massive, and he carried himself with such confidence she hadn’t thought it possible to deflate him.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” She let herself stare at his deep brown eyes—a dark espresso brown, so dark she could barely notice where the irises began. She would kill for eyelashes that thick. She reached up to brush a few crumbs from his stubbled cheek, but let her hand linger there as her gaze locked with his.
…
Get the hell out of here before you do something you’ll regret. Warning lights flashed in David’s mind, but he ignored them. He fixated on the feel of her soft fingers against his cheek. Ah, hell. He leaned closer…and then jumped as the waffles popped out of the toaster.
He pulled away and scrubbed a hand over his face. Thank God for small favors. He’d been seconds away from ruining Craig’s trust in him. His oldest friend, someone he loved like a brother. Though right now, he didn’t like him very much. Craig had no business controlling what Sophie ate. She had curves women paid thousands of dollars for. Damn Craig for making her think she shouldn’t.
He took the waffle she handed him and ate it greedily. The crunch of the cornmeal and spicy sweetness of the apples was a great combination. Without a word, she offered him the rest of hers, but he shook his head. Careful not to touch her, he took the last two waffles from the bag and placed them in the toaster. The kitchen was so small there was barely room for them both. But he didn’t want to move away. She smelled good, like oranges and almonds and spice.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He watched her take a glass from the open cupboard and fill it with water from the tap. She drank half and then caught him staring. She tipped the glass toward him, offering him some. He shook his head. It wasn’t water he was thirsty for.
“I don’t have cooties,” she said with a laugh, setting her glass down beside her and reaching for a second one.
“It’s not that.” He stalled her hand with his own. Her eyes were so blue it almost hurt him to look. Across a room, they appeared incredibly light, but when he stared into them up close, they seemed to darken. That’s what he liked most about them. That’s what he remembered from the first time he’d seen her.
Why hadn’t Sophie been a bridesmaid in the wedding? Five bridesmaids had marched down the aisle ahead of Daphne, while he and Craig had stood up there alone. Not one of them had been her sister. Wasn’t there some kind of rule about that?
His heart stopped as the toaster ejected the waffles. His hand recoiled from hers. There was way too much adrenaline in his system. He needed a few deep breaths, then he’d regain his composure. So she had pretty eyes. So what? She didn’t even come close to his type. She was much too short, with even shorter legs. And her hair was the color of dark chocolate. He had discovered long ago that tall, leggy blondes were what did it for him. Never once had he even thought of straying from his MO.
This odd feeling was just low blood sugar, he decided as he wolfed down his fourth waffle and eyed another.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” she said, offering him the last one. While he ate, she finished the water and refilled the glass. This time, he took it when she offered, and drained it. Setting the glass on the counter, he studied it to keep from staring at her again.
He shouldn’t be hungry anymore. Soon, this weird feeling would pass. Maybe it was embarrassment from being turned on in class. He’d decided that was nothing to be ashamed of. There was no way any straight man would be able to be in those positions with Sophie and not react. Which was probably the real reason Craig had backed out.
Craig, his best friend, who would want him to leave right about now. He should thank her, say good-bye, and get out. No problem. Then he felt her fingertip tracing his bottom lip. His gaze shot to her face as she sucked something off her finger. His mouth watered, and while he watched her, she caught his gaze. Again, she moved her hand toward him and closed the distance between them.
Time seemed to stall as the pad of her thumb brushed across his upper lip. Fisting his hands at his side, he sucked in a rough breath. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she flattened her small hand against hi
s chest.
He felt her before her lips brushed his, felt his resolve wash away as she kissed him—a kiss softer and gentler than he had ever known, yet it somehow deepened the ache in his belly. Her kiss was tentative. He parted his lips, wanting to remove any unease. Whatever this was, they both felt it; he was sure now. He deepened the kiss, thirsting for her. She tasted of sugar and spice and everything nice. The soft pleading sound she made in her throat made him groan. His tongue played with hers, finally dancing together.
He moved his hands to the counter on either side of her. Needing to be closer, he parted her willing legs with his body. He opened his hands and grabbed hold of that magnificent curve of hip that he’d been admiring all evening. He pulled her to the edge of the counter, against him. Just the right height so she could tell exactly what she was doing to him.
She spread her fingers over his chest and then ran them up until she twined her arms around his neck. Her full breasts pressed against his chest. His skin had become so sensitive that he felt her hardened nipples. His throbbing need extinguished the last of his arguments. They were two consenting adults. Their bodies definitely agreed on what they wanted to be doing.
He kissed her hard, the way he’d wanted to in class, the way he’d been thinking about all night. She pulled him down, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her closer still. She wound her legs around him as he ground against her. Her stomach fluttered against him as her breath changed to tiny pants. He grabbed her ass in both hands, pulling her as close as she could be, almost lifting her off the counter as he pressed their bodies together.
He felt her head hit the cabinet before he registered the thud. He must have knocked her off balance when he lifted her up.
“Ouch,” she said, her hands releasing him to rub her head.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping away.
There was a glazed innocence in her eyes that jolted him back to reality. She looked dazed. She’d hit her head, but not that hard. He gulped for air, panicked at how close he’d come to ruining the strongest relationship in his life.
Compromising Positions (Invested in Love) Page 3