“Sophia?”
He sounded so sweet, so concerned. As if he’d picked up on every one of her fears and wanted to put them at ease. As if her emotional needs were just as important as her physical pleasure.
She handed over a tiny piece of her heart in that moment.
Insane. She knew better. She knew he couldn’t be a part of her future.
But he was a part of her right now. And she had to believe that their lovemaking would only be that much better for a little love added to it.
Sophia gave him a reassuring smile and stood, crooking her finger to indicate he join her. His sigh was barely perceptible, but his smile didn’t waver as he stood to join her.
“We’re going to want a lot of room for this,” she told him, quickly tossing the cushions aside so she could pull out the sofa bed. As soon as it was open, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down.
“Nice,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder when they hit the mattress. She smiled and settled into the soft down ticking. She might have to sleep on a sofa bed, but she’d be damned if she’d be uncomfortable.
She’d stolen the feather topper off her bed at the estate.
And while soft was always a good thing, hard was even better. And she wanted Max’s hard body beneath her.
With that in mind, she shifted, pressing her hands to his shoulders so he lay flat, his body tan against the pristine white of the sheets.
“Condom,” he reminded her as she straddled him.
She reached over, the tip of her breast grazing his chest and sending another zing of pleasure through her as she grabbed her purse from the sofa table. Wasting no moves, she pulled one of the condoms Gina had given her from the tiny case, ripped it open and smoothed it over the hard, tempting length of his erection.
“Now,” she told him.
Ranging herself up on her knees, she poised over his body. Needing to prove she could, she waited. One second, then two. Max curved his hands over her thighs, then with a little smile snapped the lace of the stockings she still wore.
She gave him what he wanted. What they both wanted. Slowly, as deliciously slow as she could, she lowered herself onto his straining erection. Hot and wet, she slid down in one swift, easy move.
“Mmm,” she moaned. Riding him like the stud he was, she focused on the building pleasure. Each thrust was met with an undulating welcome. God, he felt good.
Pressure built. Passion intensified, an edgy cloud of excitement washing over her. Every fear she’d ever harbored about her sexuality vaporized as she felt the power of Max’s desire for her.
Needing more, wanting it all, she took his hands and pressed them to her aching breasts. His fingers teased, tormented, sending them both higher.
She thrust deeper, her inner walls gripping his dick as if she could milk every drop of pleasure from him.
Max groaned, his body convulsing beneath her. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass. The intensity of his climax destroyed the last of Sophia’s control. She threw back her head, her orgasm exploding through her. Panting, mewling and shuddering, she felt the pleasure in every atom of her being.
Spent and exhausted, she dropped. Her thighs slid flat against the mattress as her head hit his chest.
“You’re right,” he said eventually, his words a little breathless rumble against her ear.
“Right?” She didn’t even know where she’d found the energy to speak. She was wrung empty.
“That was better than dessert.”
She laughed, a soft giggle of delight, as she curled into his arms and drifted off to sleep, feeling smug and happy. She’d not only had the best sex of her life, she’d proved that she could have it, stay in control and still make the guy smile like he’d won the world’s greatest orgasm sweepstakes.
It was only temporary, but it felt pretty damned good.
8
“WAIT A MINUTE,” MAX said, his jacket in one hand, a cooling piece of toast in the other. “What’s the deal?”
He’d been lucky to get his damn slacks zipped before Sophia had started making shooing motions to push him toward the front door.
“I have a crazy day and really need to get started,” she was saying, looking a little crazy herself. Her hair had that wild, sex-all-night look going and her bare face was gorgeous in the morning light. But the look in her eyes was edgy. Determined. He could have handled that. But underneath was a hint of vulnerability that he wasn’t sure what to do with.
So he let her herd him toward the door.
“I’ll pick you up for dinner around six,” he told her, leaning in for a kiss.
Her lips went soft and sweet under his. His hands were full, but he angled his body to trap her between him and the wall. She felt so damn good.
Then she pulled her mouth from his and slid free.
“Dinner? Um, no. I’m supposed to be getting a shipment in this evening. With the show next weekend, I’m going to be really busy.”
His ego refused to believe she was giving him the brush-off. They’d been too good together. So she was afraid of something. Max narrowed his eyes. “Really busy, huh?”
She dropped her gaze and nodded. Then she flipped the locks and opened the front door. “I had a great time last night, though.”
A lesser man might doubt those words in the face of the bum’s rush she was giving him. But Max knew she’d enjoyed every second of their lovemaking.
“What’s the deal?” he asked.
She sucked on her bottom lip. He almost groaned. Then she shrugged and gave him what he guessed was supposed to be a tough look. “I had fun, Max. A lot of fun. But you’re a guaranteed distraction. I need to focus, okay? Why don’t I call you when things shake loose?”
Max frowned. Her decision would give him the space to deal with his mother’s mile-long to-do list, and for a little investigating into the gallery’s issues. But that wouldn’t take much time, especially not at night.
Still, he let her push him out the door. Then he planted one more kiss on her, watching her melt against the doorjamb.
“Pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line, sweetheart,” he told her, grinning as she tried to focus through the haze of desire blurring her eyes. Yeah, she might be doing the pushing, but he was the one in control. “That means I’ll need to come up with a different one. I’ll let you know what it is.”
FIVE DAYS AND SIX VERY long, restless nights later, Sophia pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the wildly dancing butterflies. Her first show as sole proprietor of Esprit de l’Art was in half an hour and she wanted to throw up.
What a week. Between trying to garner any form of publicity, and handling the caterers and the artists, she’d wondered at times if she’d pull it off. Preparation for the show had been crazy.
Just crazy enough to keep her from obsessing over Max. Her thighs trembled, the tiny bud between them throbbing in remembered pleasure.
Every freaking time she thought of the man, her body went into a sexual meltdown. She had to get hold of herself. She rolled her eyes, remembering that getting hold of herself the night before in an attempt to relieve a little tension obviously hadn’t dulled her desire.
It was a testament to her control that she’d managed to keep herself from diving for a phone and dialing Max’s number.
She paced the length of her office to try to shake off a little anxiety. Show nerves, she assured herself. The simmering doubts had nothing to do with her pushing Max away.
Sure, maybe she was a little surprised that he’d backed off. After all, that’d been some pretty incredible sex, if she did say so herself. Explosively hot, orgasmically wild. And she’d offered him some toast, a bowl of fruit and a goodbye wave the next morning. She’d been afraid if she’d taken the time to scramble an egg, she’d have begged him to stay and take over her life.
But you’d think he’d have argued over his dismissal. Tried to change her mind. Maybe called a few times or dropped in to convince her t
o go another round of pleasure.
But had he? She barely restrained herself from kicking the couch in frustration. Nope, he’d done exactly what she wanted. Left her alone.
“The caterers are all set and the string ensemble are tuning up. You ready?” Gina asked from the doorway. Dressed in her version of conservative, black Doc Martens, a knee-length black tulle ballet skirt and a black leather corset, the other woman was bouncing on her toes.
“Sure. You okay? You seem a little nervous,” Sophia said, her own anxiety tripling when she saw the unflappable Gina all on edge.
Maybe she should have worn black, too? Or in keeping with the black-and-white theme of the photographs being shown tonight, white to contrast with her assistant? She smoothed the rich red jacquard of her sheath nervously then grabbed her camera and joined the other woman in the hall. She couldn’t wait to make a photo record of this evening.
“Anticipating,” Gina corrected, adjusting her rhinestone-embellished glasses with a twitch of her finger. “I mean, we’re shooting for a higher class of clientele tonight. Before, all I had to worry about was someone cornering me in the hallway and trying to cop a feel so he could compare me with one of the sculptures of naked lady bits.”
Some of her own nerves melting in amusement, Sophia laughed.
“Oh, yeah, I had a few of those myself. Joseph always thought it was a great joke,” she recalled, wrinkling her nose at the memory. Her late husband had never gone for the knight in shining armor persona. Instead he’d chide her if she was too abrupt in slapping down the idiots who hit on her. After all, he’d claimed, it was bad form to discourage sales. Not that he’d have used his wife to make a sale. He hadn’t been slimy. Just oblivious.
Unlike Max, who was so hyperaware of her every mood, it was as if he was linked into her brain. She shivered as she remembered waking in the middle of the night wrapped in Max’s arms, feeling sore and a little sticky. Just as the fantasy of her, Max and a bath flashed through her mind, he’d murmured a naughty suggestion that’d included bubbles, a shower massage and his tongue.
Max was anything but oblivious.
“Soph?”
Sophia forced herself to focus on now. She could obsess over Max and his magic mouth later.
“I knew how to handle the jerks and their innuendos. But this—” Gina waved her hand at the caterers arranging canapés on silver trays in the smaller showroom “—this is fancy. These people will want to talk art. The subtleties of lighting instead of fornication. Creative vision instead of fellatio.”
“Color and composition instead of methodologies of ménage a trois?” Sophia asked, snapping a picture while Gina’s nervousness drained into laughter.
“Yes,” Gina giggled, still bouncing. A second later, her giggles ceased and she winced. “What if I mess something up, Soph? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather one of the part-timers fill in? I can keep things smooth in the background and Danny can assist tonight.”
Danny was an art student and the gallery’s part-time employee. “I don’t need an expert tonight, Gina. I need a friend. You’ll do great. Bring any technical questions to me if you have to, but I’m sure you can handle anything that comes your way.”
At first Gina just stared, her eyes buggy behind those crazy glasses. Then, with a deep breath, she tucked a stray hair, orange tonight, into her black velvet headband and finally nodded.
With a deep breath of her own, and one last fleeting thought to how nice it’d be if Max were there with her, Sophia pulled back her shoulders and led the way to the front showroom.
An hour later, her nerves were a thing of the past. They’d drowned in misery and despair. She’d been right about Gina being able to handle any questions. Where’s the sexy stuff? and Is this crap really fish eggs? were about the toughest queries of the night.
She’d thought she saw Max at one point, just catching a glimpse of broad shoulders and a sexy butt, but she’d obviously been mistaken. If he’d been there, he’d have said something to her.
“Danny wants to know if he should go home,” Gina whispered. “I told him to wait another hour, things are bound to pick up after eight.”
Sophia’s shoulders slumped. Given that staff and catering outnumbered guests four to one, cutting Danny loose was probably smart. No point paying wages when she wasn’t going to be making any money.
“I don’t get it,” she said, not even attempting to lower her voice. Why bother? She and Gina were the only ones other than the musicians in the main showroom. “I mean, I know we didn’t have much press. But still, there should be more guests. We’ve had this show planned for months. We sent mailings, we put an ad in the art section of the paper. We’ve had spur-of-the-moment, completely unpromoted shows that were better attended than this.”
“Do you think it’s the changes?” Gina ventured.
It took all of Sophia’s willpower to keep her lower lip from drooping. She didn’t want it to be. Dammit, this show was supposed to be a validation.
“I used the mailing list and contacts from when we bought the gallery. I edited our current list, targeting people who’d bought non-penis-focused art at any point. I…” She trailed off, throwing her hands in the air. Frustration wound so tight in her belly, she felt like screaming. She paced the room. “I did everything I could think of.”
“Maybe you just need to accept that there’s nothing else you could have done,” Gina consoled.
Accept it? Wasn’t it enough that she had no control over her finances, over her life, over her freaking out-of-control lusting thoughts of Max? Now she was supposed to accept that she had no control over the gallery, too?
Screw that.
Before she could dig into a full-blown temper tantrum, a large limousine pulled up to the curb out front. As if it were a flagship of some kind, another half dozen cars followed, all pulling around the side to the parking lot.
Sophia had spent her married years learning to live with money, so she had no problem recognizing it when it came waltzing through her front doors.
“Holy cannoli,” Gina breathed. “It’s like the cavalry just arrived decked out in diamonds and fur.”
And credit cards. Sophia almost cried, she was so excited.
“Do the rounds, make sure the caterer serves fresh food and have the musicians play a little softer until everyone gets comfortable,” she ordered. Shoulders back, she plastered on her most persuasive smile and strode forward to greet her rescuers.
Five minutes later, she wanted to dance through the showroom. There were at least two dozen people here now. Many she recognized as patrons who’d visited during the gallery’s nonerotic heyday. Not nearly as large a crowd that attended Esprit’s recent shows, but better than the single person who’d come through the previous hour.
Ten minutes later, she was more confused than giddy.
“Any interest?” she asked Gina quietly as they passed through the archway between the large and small showrooms.
“A lot of looky-loos, but no bites.”
Sophia licked her lips, looked at the crowd and puffed out a breath. Then she forced herself to ask, “Are they saying anything…well, weird?”
Gina frowned.
“Compared to offers to paint my breasts in dayglo? Nope. One thing’s kinda funny, though,” she said slowly. “They all seem to know—”
“Max,” Sophia said at the same time Gina did.
As if their duet were an incantation, he suddenly appeared in the doorway. Dressed in a dark suit, a black open-necked dress shirt and a sexy smile, he looked gorgeous.
“How’d he know we were sucking?” Gina wondered.
Maybe she really had seen him earlier. Brows furrowing, Sophia gestured for Gina to do the rounds, then strode forward to meet her questionable fairy godfather.
“Max.” She’d greeted everyone else with a handshake, but she was afraid she’d melt into a puddle of lust at his touch. So she kept her hands, with her palms itching to feel him, at her sides.
&
nbsp; “Sophia,” he greeted in equal gravity, humor lurking in his dark eyes.
Despite his friendly ease, she could feel the desire pouring off him in waves. She’d never had a man want her like Max did. Never felt so feminine and sexy and wanted. It was like being in an explosion of hot need. She couldn’t think of anything better than giving in to that need.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she murmured, barely aware of what she said. As long as it wasn’t Please strip naked so I can straddle your body it probably didn’t matter.
“I wanted to make sure everything came together for you.”
All she heard was making sure she came. She was sure that wasn’t what he’d actually said, though.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The show,” he said, stepping a little closer. Sophia breathed deep his warm scent. “I wanted to be here to see a gallery show, to make sure everything went okay. And I wanted to see you and didn’t figure you’d toss me out of a public event.”
His smile was pure charm. His eyes were pure heat. His body, wrapped in a black suit, was pure temptation.
Then his words finally sank in.
“Why wouldn’t everything go okay?” she asked, starting to frown.
As if sensing the change in her, Max tilted his head and waited. Probably all that bomb training had given him ultra-sensitive perceptive powers.
“Why do all these people seem to know you?” she asked slowly, trying to fit all the puzzle pieces together. “Did you come by earlier?”
“Don’t you think I’d have said hello if I had?” he sidestepped.
She narrowed her eyes. “And these people?”
“They look like they’re enjoying the photos,” he mused, glancing at the people milling about. He nodded to a couple negotiating with Gina, who was bouncing on her toes again. “And buying.”
“What’s going on?” Sophia demanded. “Did you have anything to do with our sudden rush of patrons?”
Max gave her a long look. She’d seen that look before. It was one of those how-much-does-she-really-need-to-know looks. Her father used that look. All of her brothers used that look. Joseph hadn’t even bothered with that look after the first year of their marriage.
Uniformly Hot! Volume 1 from Harlequin: Letters from HomeBreaking the RulesComing Up for Air Page 25