“Sophia, I must say that I am very pleased with your performance. You have exceeded my expectations,” I complimented her.
“Thank you, sir. I have worked very hard to make sure I did the best I could do to please you,” she replied sincerely while keeping her eyes somewhat downcast.
“You have done that, most definitely. I’ve also received praise from several other department heads for your contributions and suggestions.”
“That is very good news, indeed. Is there anything more I can do for you?”
“Just keep up the great work, Sophia, exactly as you’ve been doing. Keep learning and rising to the occasion.”
She nodded in agreement and kept her eyes slightly downcast, intentionally avoiding meeting my gaze directly. “I am only here to please you,” she replied, her voice low and unsure.
I was speechless at her revelation. It stunned me in many different ways. If another employee had said something similar, I would’ve quickly dismissed it as insecurity in a new position and making sure the boss’s expectations were met. But with Sophia, there is always something more to what’s actually being said. It’s in the double entendre words and the way she phrases them.
It also conjures more images of her that I really don’t need to have. Images of her naked, kneeling and submissive in front of me, and eagerly waiting for me to vocalize my desires dominate my thoughts. At the time she said she was here to please me, I was in a completely different frame of mind—and anything job related was the furthest from my mind.
The last three weeks have slowly worked on changing my resolve. Sophia’s eagerness to please, deference to my wishes, and obvious admiration of me have stirred feelings I thought were long dead. Her natural personality and actions bring out the man in me that I used to be. She makes me want to show the real man underneath the normal, CEO façade—the man that deep down I know I was born to be.
Today, knowing that we are preparing for our trip to San Diego, I feel more anticipation than ever. She has made it clear that she wants more from me than a working relationship without actually saying the words. The sly looks, the intentional touches, and the accidental body brushes all point to one thing. She’s trying to tell me she’s interested without being overly forward. Mrs. Hernandez outdid herself with Sophia’s clothes because every outfit she’s worn has been subtly provocative, and Sophia seems to be taking full advantage of that.
I suppose it could be me, just being impatient and ready to move on. My dry spell coupled with all the time I’ve spent with her has been hell on earth. We’ve worked late together a couple of nights in the past week. At first, I considered having her come to my house to work, where it would be more comfortable and we could have a working dinner. I changed my mind after I almost claimed her soft, plump lips as my own when she bent too close to me while we were reviewing a contract.
But this morning, we fly from Dallas-Fort Worth to San Diego and we will be there for four days and three nights while we hammer out the details and negotiate with D-Force Games, Rich’s company. He insisted that we also tour the facility, get to know the employees, and spend time with their executives to understand their vision and mission. I would normally politely decline such a demand, but, like me, Rich isn’t one to take no for an answer. Plus, his company is vitally important to the future growth and expansion of my company. So, I will indulge him this once and even I have to admit that it’s primarily because Sophia will be with me.
Tucker picks me up first and we drive to Sophia’s apartment to pick her up on the way to the airport. She gives me a sly smile as she climbs into the backseat with me. Her beauty still takes my breath at times, just feeling the warmth radiate from her smile.
“Good morning, Dominic,” she purrs.
“Good morning, Sophia,” I reply. “Are you ready for our short business trip?”
“I’m looking forward to it. I hope to learn a lot from you and hopefully come to a mutually beneficial agreement,” she says, but I feel an underlying tone to her words.
We arrive at the private airstrip between Dallas and Fort Worth and Tucker stops at the steps leading up to the private jet. Sophia looks around, anxious and excited, her eyes wide and more expressive than usual. She is obviously unaccustomed to this type of travel and is enthralled with every detail of it. I give her a reassuring smile, understanding what she must be feeling, and allow her a moment to take it all in.
“This is an incredible jet, Dominic,” she earnestly pays a compliment.
“Wait until you see inside,” I reply with a mischievous grin. “There’s a bedroom, a fully stocked bar, ultra-plush leather captain’s chairs and two full-size leather couches.” I intentionally keep my voice sensual, seductive, and suggestive, emphasizing certain assets of the plane and allowing her imagination to take over her thoughts. I know she immediately picks up on my innuendos when she smiles shyly and averts her eyes. I’m intrigued when she doesn’t blush with embarrassment this time.
Fuck, this week is going to be harder than I originally thought. The visions of an eager and willing Sophia invade my thoughts. We will be away from any other prying eyes and office gossip. Even though it’s a working trip, we could very well make it a mini-vacation, of sorts. This is in complete contradiction to how I normally behave. Business is business—no mixing pleasure. No considering anything other than a platonic, business relationship with my employees.
But this lady…Sophia Vasco…is different from any other woman I’ve met. This isn’t a stupid, fucking cliché. This isn’t an adolescent infatuation that I just need to work out of my system with a quick romp between the sheets. The man inside me, the one I’ve hidden from existence for the last sixteen months, senses her, feels her, and wants to own her. She walks up the jet stairs ahead of me and the rhythmic sway of her hips has me entranced.
She abruptly stops on the step above mine, turning to face me, and I find myself face to face with her, barely avoiding a collision. My hands reach out automatically to steady her, holding her hips in a way that is usually reserved for more intimate settings. Our lips are so close that the slightest movement from either of us will result in a kiss. Sophia sharply inhales a ragged breath but her eyes never stray from mine.
Her brown eyes darken with desire and her tongue flicks out, wetting her lips and silently inviting me to lean in just a little closer. My jaw is clenched so tightly that it hurts, but that’s not where my mind is focused at the moment. My thoughts run away with me as I consider the possible outcomes of my actions if I act on it. Mike Smyth, the pilot, saves us both as he interrupts the moment from just inside the cockpit.
“Susan, can you make sure they’ve restocked the bar in the back? I think there were some bottles running low on our last flight,” Mike calls out to the flight attendant. I drop my hands from her sides just before he steps into the galley. Seeing us on the landing, he is obviously surprised and unaware of the internal conflict brewing, “Oh, hello, Mr. Powers. You’re all set to board. We’re just making some last minute libation checks,” he says with a smile.
“Thanks, Mike. Appreciate it. We’ll go ahead and take our seats,” I reply, regaining some semblance of decorum. Throughout the entire exchange, Sophia keeps her eyes trained on me. Clearing my throat as a subtle warning, I steel my resolve and extend my hand toward the door of the plane. “Time to board, Sophia.”
The disappointment in her eyes is unmistakable. The moment of temporary insanity has passed and I’m more convinced now that I need to keep my distance from her and reexamine why these feelings, thoughts, and nightmares are resurfacing after all this time. I really just need to be alone, take a breather, and consider all the aspects of this clusterfuck, but that won’t happen for the next four days while we’re on this trip.
Shit.
Sophia takes her seat in one of the plush-leather captain’s chairs. I sit across from her and immediately regret my decision to not sit beside her. When she crosses her legs, her skirt rides up higher on her thighs, e
xposing more of her smooth, silky skin. My eyes are glued to her legs, and as she shifts in her chair, her skirt moves ever so slightly higher. At this pace, her lacey panties will soon be showing. Should that happen, I will be compelled to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the waiting bed in the back of the plane.
When I finally tear my eyes from the part of her body I would really love to lose myself in, I see her eyes are beyond heated. Her breaths have increased to the point of nearly panting, and without a doubt, I am in deep shit. There’s no way this attraction will fizzle out. These feelings will not just go away. These thoughts won’t just stop. This itch must be scratched in the most sensual, intimate, and carnal ways possible.
Fuck me.
All of the pre-flight checks have been completed and the flight attendant has recited the required safety standards. After a smooth takeoff, we reach cruising altitude, and after getting our drinks and a light snack tray, I excuse the flight attendant from her duties for a while. Having changed seats, I am now beside Sophia instead of across from her. I pull out the small table that’s tucked away between our chairs and we share the food. The flight only takes about three hours from wheels up to wheels down, but it’s three hours of having Sophia all to myself that both concerns and excites me.
We settle into a comfortable companionship, enjoying the food and the pitcher of mimosas the flight attendant left with us. I don’t know if it was the extra glass of mimosa she had or how we just seemed to click all of a sudden, but Sophia seems so much more relaxed with me. As she starts opening up to me, I begin to see a whole new side of her.
“So, tell me about your brother, Sophia.”
Her smile conveys her love for him. The look on her face tells me that she misses him more than her words can tell, but there’s a deep sadness in her eyes that she tries very hard to hide. I wonder if she’s trying to hide it from me—or from herself. She takes another sip of her mimosa before she answers me.
“His name is Shawn, and like I said, he’s four years younger. He’s the best.” Then she adds, almost absently, “I miss him so much.”
“Why haven’t you seen him?” I inquire, intrigued and confused. If she’s so close to him, and loves him so much, why wouldn’t she still see him now?
Her eyes fly up to meet mine and the color briefly drains from her face. Her mouth is gaping open and her eyes are wide, like a deer caught in the headlights and physically unable to move out of the way of danger. She quickly recovers and drops her eyes to her glass, her finger tracing the rim as she speaks softly.
“I haven’t seen him in quite a while. My…uh…my parents and my brother both vehemently disagreed with some choices I’ve made in my life. They have effectively disowned me. To be honest, my parents and I never really saw eye to eye. I spent my whole life fighting with them, but my brother held my heart. When I lost him, I really felt it. It really hurt,” she continues, speaking to her champagne flute.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, Sophia. That must be really hard on you, being in a different city with no family support,” I offer understanding, although I really want to ask about those choices she’s made that ended with her being disowned. Even with her revelation, or maybe because of it, it just seems inappropriate to ask for details just yet. “Perhaps enough time has passed for you to try to speak to them again. Help them understand where you’re coming from and why you’ve made the decisions you have. Distance helps give a new perspective on things.” Being a man, I instinctively want to offer advice to fix things as quickly as possible.
The gloomy smile she offers me says it all—she’s tried and she’s been shot down, pushed away, and told to never return. It happens all too often in families—more than most people realize—but I wait and let her tell me the story and withhold my own thoughts for the time being.
She slowly shakes her head from side to side, “No. I can never go back there. I’ve come to terms with that and it’s been damn near impossible.” The back of her hand whisks a tear away, and before I can move, more quickly take its place.
Rising quickly, I kneel in front of her and pull her into my arms. She tries to hold her tears back, but they keep coming, and soon the sobs are wracking her small body. I pull her closer, willing my strength to flow into her and help her through this pain. It suddenly occurs to me that this is most definitely inappropriate contact, but then her arms wrap around my neck and she plasters herself to me. I bury my face in her hair and whisper soothing words repeatedly while gently stroking her hair.
Her sobs subside but she doesn’t let go of me, or I of her. We stay connected, on more levels than one, for several minutes before I feel her slightly loosen her hold. She doesn’t let go completely—leaving her arms around my neck—but she pulls her face back to look directly at me. Her pain and insecurity shine in her eyes, begging me to accept her and not shun her as her family did. I know these signs—I’ve seen them too many times before.
I search her eyes and her face for a cue from her, a sign of what she wants next. Her soft lips touch mine, and at first, she gives me a sweet, chaste kiss. Then, she increases the pressure and slightly parts her lips. When her tongue lightly rakes across the part in my lips, asking for permission to enter, I can’t stifle my approving groan. Her tongue slides into my mouth and glides across my own. Her taste is intoxicating, and before I know it, my hands are threaded in her hair, tilting her head, and deepening the kiss.
As I take control of the scene, I feel her body willingly submit to me. She becomes pliant under my touch and molds to fit me, giving herself over to my will. The old feelings buried deep within me stir and I hear the man locked up inside me prodding me to claim her, own her, and make her say she’s mine. He’s always there, just under the surface of my calm demeanor, waiting to come out and take over. I’ve held him back for sixteen long months—but if I continue this, he will definitely reappear. She brings him out in me more than anyone else I’ve ever met before. He will want to make her all his.
When she moans softly into my mouth, electricity shoots through me, and every nerve in my body is on high alert. Every strand of her hair floating across my fingers excites me even more. My fingers close on her hair, pulling it into my fists, she melts under the slight pain of my pull. Using my body, I ease her back in her chair and my upper body covers her. Every feeling is unique and exquisite—almost like it’s the first time I’ve felt it. Her breasts press against my chest, and for a split second, I consider removing my hands from her hair.
It’s this thought that brings me back to Earth. Actually, I’m crashing back to this airplane that’s cruising at about thirty thousand feet. This is crazy—she’s my assistant, my employee, and she’s distraught. This is not the right time to act on inappropriate feelings and thoughts. Releasing my hold on her hair, I deliberately slow the pace before ending the impromptu make-out session. When I pull back, I see the most beautiful sight.
Sophia’s face is flushed, her lips are swollen and red from our kiss, her hair is slightly messy—but just enough to be sexy—and pure, unfiltered desire is uncontained in her eyes. My knuckles lightly stroke her cheek and I watch her reaction as she realizes what just happened. I have a feeling I will have to calm her and reassure her, although I’m not sure how because I feel anything but calm and reassured myself.
Chapter Six
Sophia is in somewhat of a daze and I watch with fascination as realization dawns on her. The emotions playing across her face betray her private thoughts—lust, confusion, comprehension and finally, humiliation. She bows her head and avoids my eyes, her face turning a deep shade of crimson red, and I am convinced she is about to start crying again.
“Hey,” I say softly, “It’s okay. Really.”
She shakes her head and replies, “No, no, I was completely out of line. If you fire me now, I completely understand.”
“Sophia,” I can’t avoid the slight admonishment in my tone, “I’m not going to fire you. In case you didn’t notice, I was a wil
ling participant. I should be the one apologizing to you.”
I sigh heavily and continue with the part I don’t really want to say but I know I should. “If you feel uncomfortable working with me now, I can transfer you to another area to report to someone else. I don’t want you to feel pressured or awkward at work now.”
Sophia’s deep brown eyes finally rise to meet mine head-on. She stutters for a second before getting her words out. “I - I don’t want that! Dominic, don’t you know? I love working with you, learning from you, and just being with you. What happened just now-,” her voice trails off, her brows furrow, and she looks down at her fidgeting hands.
“You regret it? It’s fine, Sophia. You can say it.”
“Regret it? No! I’ve wanted to do that for so long now,” Sophia says emphatically as her eyes search mine for affirmation. “I just can’t believe I really did that. That just isn’t like me at all, being the aggressor. It’s embarrassing,” she says as she first lowers her eyes then her head.
Gently grabbing her chin, I lift her face as I say, “Sophia, you shouldn’t be embarrassed. If I hadn’t wanted it to happen, it wouldn’t have. Now, we have to focus on where we go from here.”
“Where do you want to go?” she whispers to me.
“That’s up to you. I am obviously attracted to you, but I’m also your employer. This is uncharted territory for me, but I’d rather you make the decision for what’s best for you,” I purposely answer cryptically.
“Really? You care about what’s best for me?”
Now my brows are furrowed and I narrow my eyes at her, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I want what’s best for you?”
Her Dom (Dominic Powers #1) Page 5