“I know. It just seems very Bond.”
“Maybe I’m a spy,” she whispered in a sultry voice, winking as she spoke.
“Are you a good spy or a bad spy?”
“I’m whatever kind you want me to be,” she said, and the innuendo in her words heated me up. The notion that she’d play whatever role I wanted intoxicated me.
But then, everything she did turned me on. My attraction to her ran red-hot and burrowed deep into my body. It operated on some kind of elemental level that at times I felt powerless to resist or deny. My fingers gripped the wheel harder as lust thrummed through me.
But even so, I remained curious about her. The woman who generated all this heat in my blood. I wanted to understand her. “What I mean is,” I said, trying again, “what’s the story with you and this fancy car, and the gorgeous building you live in, and the way you dress like you stepped off the pages of a magazine?”
“The answers are simple. I give a lot of my money away, and I give all my time away. But I still like having nice things. And I like to reward myself for hitting milestones in charitable fundraising. Like this car—it was a gift I gave myself after my first big event. And this dress I picked up when I started working with the children’s wing. Besides, I like dressing nice. Is that a crime?”
I shook my head. “Hell no. You wear it all well. Do you like being pretty?”
She laughed lightly. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Answer the question,” I said firmly, since she’d just danced around what I considered an immutable truth of the universe—she was beautiful.
“Ryan,” she said, and I heard her embarrassment in her tone. I was having none of that.
“Sophie,” I said in a firm voice. “You’re gorgeous. Don’t deny it. Now tell me, do you like being so gorgeous?”
“To you—yes,” she said, managing once again not to answer completely. But her answer was completely satisfying.
Briefly, I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. “Stunning. You are fucking stunning.” I turned my eyes back to the road that curved up into the hills. “Even in that picture you sent me of you in a hat and hoodie.”
“I told you I was a nerd in college. I mean, total nerd,” she said, slicing her hands through the air for emphasis. “I had a weird haircut. I dyed my bangs blue. I was bent over a desk coding all the time.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing you bent over a desk.”
She shot me a naughty grin. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Did you like having blue hair?”
I shrugged. “I did it to fit in. There’s a certain geek culture, and I had to work hard to conform to it. I already had a strike against me being a woman, so I tried to at least look the part of a computer nerd.”
If she hadn’t sent that photo, I’d never have believed it. “And now that you’ve left that part of your life behind, you embrace this other side of yourself,” I said, gesturing to the pinup dress, high heels, and styled hair.
“Exactly,” she said, her eyes lighting up.
“Was that part of you untended to? The woman in you?”
“For many years,” she said, almost to herself. I was about to follow up and ask what she meant, but she kept talking. “But there are always parts of ourselves we don’t take care of. I could ask you the same. Are you the same person you were when you were in the Army?”
As I hugged the side of the road on a turn, I eyed my tailored pants, button-down shirt, and leather shoes. “Well, I don’t wear fatigues anymore,” I said dryly.
“Did you wear fatigues then? Were you actually in battle?” she asked, worry in her tone.
“I did wear fatigues. But I wasn’t on the battlefront. I was in Germany. Stationed in Wiesbaden. Not far from Frankfurt.”
“I know where Wiesbaden is,” she said quickly, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. “I’m having some work done on a new car at a custom shop in Rüsselsheim, not far from there.”
“Yeah? What kind?” I asked, figuring she’d say Audi, BMW, or Mercedes—luxury autos with high-end options for the discerning buyer, like Sophie.
“It’s a Bugatti,” she said breezily. “I’ve always wanted one.”
My jaw dropped. There was no hotter make or model of car to a Top Gear fan than a Bugatti. “Yeah, me too. You’re really getting a Bugatti? I thought they were made in France.”
“Mine was made there. But I’ve contracted with a specialty shop in Rüsselsheim to make it more eco-friendly. And the paint job they’re doing is divine. It’s going to be a lush green,” she said, stretching that last word out as if it tasted like honey. “It’s going to look like an emerald.”
“That’s pretty hot. Can’t wait to see it.”
“Me too. I should get it in a few weeks. I bought it when I hit another goal for charities. But enough about me. Tell me about Wiesbaden. What did you do at the base there?”
“Army intelligence. The 66th Military Intelligence Brigade.”
“And I suspect your career path now is a pretty typical one after working in Army intelligence?”
“It is. Military to security. Natural fit.”
“So perhaps you aren’t that different now than in your previous job.”
“Maybe I’m not.”
“Maybe you’re not,” she echoed. “Or maybe you are. I don’t really know.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I want to know what makes you tick now,” she said, her gaze fixed firmly on me as I drove. She was so straightforward, and I couldn’t deny that I liked her directness in conversation as much as I liked her willingness to bend to me in the bedroom.
Besides, it was a good question, one I was rarely asked but one I could reasonably answer with the truth. “This car,” I said, tapping the dashboard. “My dog. My job. My family. Living the life I choose. Keeping people safe. No, I’m not that different than I was before.”
“You’re like my brother in some ways,” she said. Guilt burned through me at the mention of John, and I tried to shove it aside. There was no space tonight for the things I hadn’t told her about how we met. “He’s got the same focus,” she continued, then looked at me and rested her hand briefly on my leg. “I admire it.”
I gritted my teeth. No, you don’t. You can’t admire me. I’m a liar and you’re a truth teller, and I don’t deserve you. But I still want you. Desperately.
Sophie leaned back in the passenger seat, lowered the window, and let the wind whip through the car until I turned a corner at a lookout halfway up the mountain road and pulled the gleaming silver beast to a stop.
I cut the engine and stared at the windswept woman by my side. Maybe I wasn’t a liar. Maybe I was simply a man who hadn’t yet told the whole truth. There’d be time for that when I needed to offer it up. Then it hit me—I was thinking about the next time with her, and maybe even the one after that. Which wasn’t like me at all. I didn’t move beyond short-term, so why was my brain all of a sudden thinking differently?
I had no answers, only a stark certainty inside me that I wanted this woman all to myself.
“Do you like the way she handles the curves?” Sophie asked, patting the dashboard.
“So fucking much,” I said, then nodded to her door. “Wait for me.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, tilting her head, locking her eyes with mine, and saying everything in her gaze. My breath stopped short at the way she looked at me. So guileless.
I never thought I’d been waiting for anyone. Given the walls I’d erected and the foundation of privacy I built my life on, I never imagined I’d be captivated this quickly. But Sophie had me bewitched—from her beauty to her spirit to her wide-open heart.
Maybe I had been waiting for her.
My muscles tightened. Something that felt like fear raced through me—the fear of feeling something.
But goddammit, I didn’t want to think about matters of the heart.
The physical was so much easier.
The physical paid better dividends.
I walked behind the car then opened her door, offering my hand.
“Get out of the car and show me,” I said, issuing a command. “Show me how you look in my gift.”
Sophie’s eyes widened, and she unhooked her seat belt in one second. Damn, this woman loved to be told what to do, and I loved being the one to do it.
I tugged her out and spun her around, lining her back against my front. Sex. Contact. Connection. I needed it to wipe my mind of all the dangerous little details I kept locked up. I moved her body closer to the hood of the car. I tested the metal with my palm—warm, not too hot. “Bend over.”
She placed her hands on the hood and flattened her back. My God, she took orders like a dream. “Raise your skirt for me.”
She reached a hand behind her and grabbed the orange hem. She lifted it up, and a groan ripped from my throat when I saw her in the panties I’d bought for her.
The hottest item of clothing in all of creation.
“Nothing has ever looked better on any woman in the world,” I said, as I fell to my knees in the dirt and pressed my face against her rear. I flicked my tongue through one of the crisscross sections that exposed her creamy white flesh, and she gasped. I gripped her cheeks in my hands, squeezing her as I smothered her barely-covered bottom in kisses. Oh, the things I wanted to do to her. The ways I wanted to touch her with my tongue, fingers, and cock. Lick her, touch her, fuck her, and taste her.
My dick throbbed in my pants, begging to be set free, to be inside her gorgeous body.
“They were made for you,” I whispered as I worshipped her ass with my lips, and she squirmed under my touch, rocking her body back into me. I licked the outline of one of the diamonds, flicking the tip of my tongue over her skin, and she moaned my name.
“I bet you’re soaked right now,” I said in a hungry voice.
“I bet you’re right,” she answered in between erratic breaths.
The world around us was dark and quiet. There was only the slightest rustle of an evening breeze. We were all alone on the turnout at the side of the road, and I was going to fuck her good and hard.
I slid my fingers between her legs and groaned when I felt how damp she was. Nothing was better in the entire universe than when a woman responded to a man like this. Her body told me everything—from the way she stretched her arms, to how her belly pressed flat to the metal, to how her ass was raised in the air, the skirt all bunched up by her hips.
Sophie wanted me. She gave herself freely, and I was utterly consumed by a deep and potent longing for her. I’d intended to fuck her, but with my face so close to her sweet center, I decided on an appetizer first. “Don’t move,” I said, as I pulled the panel of her panties to the side. Keeping her in place would keep me in control of this ravenous desire that raged inside. “Stay still while I eat you.”
“I won’t move,” she answered, digging her heels into the ground.
I stared between her legs, where she glistened. My breath came fast as raw desire overtook me. “You’re so fucking delicious,” I said, then licked.
She trembled and sighed sexily. The most enticing sounds floated from her lips as I licked her sweetness. Her clit was a hard stone under my tongue, and with each flick, she trembled but remained still. She’d taken my order to heart and hadn’t moved an inch. She could follow directions like a perfect student, and she tasted like heaven on earth. I buried my face in her slickness, my hands gripping her luscious ass as I devoured her.
She flooded my tongue and moaned her pleasure. “I’m so close, Ryan. I’m so close. Can I please move?”
Please.
Oh hell, it was like a direct line of desire to my cock. I ached to fill her. That simple word spurred me on, making me want her even more. “Yes,” I said roughly, then gave her an order. “You have permission to fuck my face now.”
She followed it to the letter. I continued my assault on her pussy with my lips, thrusting my tongue inside her heat, as she rocked into me madly. She went from frozen to frenzied in no time. Her thighs tensed, and as soon as I felt her quiver, I slid a finger inside her.
Her soft walls clenched around me, and she cried out into the night as she came on my tongue, my lips, and my chin.
She tasted divine. Absolutely intoxicating all over me, and I was hooked on her, on her taste, her scent, her body. Everything. I lapped up her wetness as the aftershocks moved through her. I placed a palm on each thigh, steadying her as I kissed the backs of her legs, then lapped up a bead of wetness that had slid down her skin.
I stood up and raked my eyes over the gorgeous sight of her bent at the waist, soft and warm from her first orgasm. “I’m just getting started, beautiful. There’s so much I want to do to you.”
She looked back at me and smiled, a tipsy grin that made my heart pound and my dick ache. Rabid desire raced through me again, and the need to take her overwhelmed me. Her feet were planted on the ground. I nudged the inside of her right leg with my foot, then kicked her legs open wider.
“Spread your legs for me,” I instructed, and she inched her feet apart into a more perfect V.
My fingers traveled along her spine and up her neck to her hair, grabbing it, turning her head so she looked up at me. Her eyes were hazy and full of a lust that matched mine. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I asked harshly.
“I think I do.”
“You are under my skin,” I whispered, as I kept her pressed against the warm hood with one hand, then slinked my other hand down to her waist and unfastened the slim orange belt. “And in my head,” I continued as I snapped the belt free. “And I can’t fucking stop thinking about you.”
“I can’t stop either,” she said, and in a flash, I wrapped the belt around her wrists, knotting it, twisting it, and tying her hands together with her own accessory. She allowed me, offering up her wrists to be bound. She was a willing hostage.
“That turns me on even more,” I growled in her ear, as I stretched her tied arms along the silver hood.
“Tying me up?”
“Yes,” I said, pressing my erection against her ass. “But what makes me rock hard is the way you let me. The way you want me to. The way you give your body to me,” I said as I grabbed a condom from my pocket, unzipped my pants, and pushed down my briefs.
“Take me,” she said, meeting my eyes as she lay vulnerable and completely open to me.
I rolled on the condom. Then I placed my hands on that perfect ass and dug my thumbs into her cheeks, spreading her sex open. I rubbed the tip of my dick against her wet heat.
Lust crashed over me like a wave beating the shore. I returned my right hand to her neck, held her in place, and sank into her in one swift move.
Then I stilled inside her, inhaling deeply as I savored the intensity of this moment—the feel of her luscious body drawing me in for the first time. I’d craved this from the second I’d met her, and now I knew why.
She fit me perfectly.
“You feel fucking amazing,” I groaned. “I knew you would.”
She moaned. She whimpered. She cried out my name. “Ryan.”
The sound of my name falling from her red lips made me want her more than I’d ever thought possible. She’d seduced me with her willingness, she’d lured me in with her sweet naughtiness, and she’d captivated me with her mind.
I was mesmerized by this woman. Completely spellbound.
And so I did what I came here to do.
I fucked her. Deep, hard, and feverishly. I swiveled my hips and thrust into her, her sweet, snug pussy taking me in all the way. I breathed heavily as I stroked, one hand squeezing her ass. She gave me everything I wanted—complete control of her body—and it annihilated my brain. It scorched a path of pure pleasure through me. I was driven with need for her, by the sheer ecstasy of fucking this woman on the hood of her car in the desert, under the sky, under my command.
“It feels so good,” she said on a pant. “Oh God, I’m goin
g to come,” she cried out, then screamed my name. The sound of it echoing in the night made my balls tighten and pleasure ricochet through me, sweeping over my entire body, obliterating everything else in my world but this pure and perfect moment with this magnificent woman.
I grunted, calling out her name as I came, then slumped over her back and wrapped my arms around her.
She sighed happily.
I damn near did the same. “I can’t get enough of you. I just fucking can’t.”
She shot me the sweetest smile. Then in a soft voice, she said, “I’m hungry. Care to take me out for a bite to eat?”
I’d already eaten, but food sounded good.
21
Sophie
The dry spell had officially ended, so I ordered french fries and a chocolate milkshake.
Because the combination felt like a celebration, and I was celebrating not only the first time I’d had sex in a few years, but also the best sex ever.
Make that Best. Sex. Ever.
We’d stopped at a roadside diner on the return to the city, and he ate a burger and shared my fries. I reached for one at the same time as he did, and our fingers bumped. He laughed. “We could fight for it. Or I could let you have that one,” he said.
“I trust you’ll let me have it,” I said, then snatched the fry in question and dragged it through ketchup. As I brought it to my lips, I glanced down to make sure my napkin was spread across my skirt. Damn. I’d missed a loop when I’d put my belt back on. Wait. I hadn’t. One of them had split.
That was some hard loving.
“Looks like I ripped a belt loop,” I said after I finished chewing.
“I’ll have it fixed for you. Pretty sure I’m responsible.”
“I’m pretty sure I can fix it easily with a needle and some thread.” Then I noticed the dress was streaked along the bodice and the skirt—the danger of sex on a car in a white dress. “Oh no. My dress is dirty too,” I said, gesturing to the marks on the front.
He frowned. “My fault as well. I’ll pay to have it cleaned.”
My Sinful Desire (Sinful Men Book 2) Page 11