by Lia Lee
Sophia looked at me like I’d burnt her, pushing to her feet and fleeing to her room. The door slammed shut not a second later.
What the fuck just happened? I sure as shit didn’t know.
Mark strode into the kitchen just when I’d risen to my feet. “Ready to go, Brett? The traffic to iFly is gonna be a bitch if we don’t get going.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, my mind still racing and my dick still throbbing from what had to be one of the most charged, albeit brief, kisses of my life.
Mark and I were going indoor skydiving, and I was super happy that we hadn’t opted for actual skydiving. I wouldn’t have survived it in the frame of mind I was stuck in.
Mark chatted all the way there, but I was having a hard time concentrating. I was actually having a hard time all around. Being with Mark was hard, not thinking about Sophia and that fucking kiss was hard, and my dick was seconds away from getting hard at any given time because I couldn’t not think about it.
I lost count of the amount of times Mark asked me what was wrong, but my answer was the same each time. “It’s nothing, bro. Just tired.”
The irony of my answer wasn’t lost on me.
Chapter Four
Sophia
Twenty-four hours had gone by, and my mind was still spinning from that kiss. The electric, awe-inspiring kiss that had tilted my world on its axis and confirmed what I’d already known to be true. Brett Kelly was my dirty dream come true.
Mondays always sucked, but this one sucked harder than all the rest combined. I was getting nothing done. With an inbox full of leads to follow, I was remarkably unproductive. The newsroom chatter filled my ears, but it wasn’t interesting enough to distract me.
For the first time ever.
The clamoring of keyboards didn’t have me wanting to rush over and find out what my colleagues were so diligently working on. Another first.
I was the first to admit that I suffered from a serious case of FOMO, fear of missing out on something interesting going on around me. But what I was missing out on in the real world was nothing compared to missing out on the memories of Brett’s lips against mine.
I’d finally gotten one small taste of him. Bacon and syrup and a hint of lingering mint. It was heaven. And hell. Because he still hadn’t called. Or texted. Or even come back to the apartment with Mark when they finished up with whatever it was that they’d done yesterday.
I checked my phone for what had to be the millionth time since they’d left the day before, but there was still nothing. Texting Brett was tempting, to say the least. But I didn’t do it.
I was dying to know what he thought about our kiss, to know if it had affected him as much as it did me. I was even more eager to find out if he had been able to stop thinking about it, because I hadn’t. Not for a single minute.
A big part of me, though, didn’t actually want to know. I was sure that even though he’d been the one to close those precious few inches between our lips, that he’d thought the kiss was gross. That he felt like he was kissing his own little sister instead of Mark’s. The risk of finding out he was thinking that was more than enough to keep me from giving in and sending him a text. Regardless of how much I wanted to know where his head was at about everything.
It was one of the best kisses of my life. I couldn’t bear to think that it might not have been the same to him. Okay, no. That was a lie. And I wasn’t in the business of lying to myself. It was the best kiss of my life, and it cemented my belief that Brett was the perfect man for me.
I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d somehow managed to make it to twenty-six and still be a virgin. It wasn’t a conscious choice or anything. It just kind of happened. All of my sexual encounters had ended in disappointment, and I always left shortly after. Way before there was a chance of anything more.
I kept telling myself that I deserved more, and my first time should mean something. I should be with someone who would put my pleasure above his own and introduce me to the wild and wonderful world of sex in a way that wouldn’t leave me never wanting to try it again.
And so, I’d become the only virgin still among my group of friends, and I’d vowed to only give it up when I met a man that I felt could live up to my possibly impossible expectations.
I’d read up about it enough to know that climaxing on your first time was highly unlikely. Yet I held onto the dream that I could be one of those girls who got it all.
I wanted to find a guy who was kind and caring enough to take it slow, one who would be attuned to me enough to know when I was ready for him to start really moving. I wanted to find the guy who wouldn’t stop before he made it good for me. Like really, really good.
I knew it was the stuff dreams were made of, but it was my dream, and I wasn’t ready to let go of it. It wasn’t going to happen that way with the kind of guy you met in a club and let into your vagina on a moment’s notice. That scenario held no appeal to me.
I didn’t need to marry the guy that punched my V-card, either before or after the main event. That wasn’t what I was after. I didn’t need romance and chocolates and love songs.
All that I needed was someone who would know my name after, someone who wouldn’t blow his load and leave me sore and wanting like some of my friends’ first times had been. I didn’t want to have to worry about being insecure or vulnerable with a stranger.
That was all. It wasn’t that big an ask. I just wanted my first time to be in a safe environment with someone that I was comfortable with.
Some might have said to wait for marriage then, but I had needs and no damn boyfriend or even a date that had the prospect of becoming one. As a result, marriage wasn’t in the cards for me for a long time, and I was running out of patience.
I was tired of being the only one with no idea what sex felt like, the one who pulled away when a cute guy made advances because I didn’t want him to have to find out that I was an inexperienced virgin.
Brett was the answer to my problem. The guy who could give me what I needed and walk away without any hard feelings. Because that was what he did.
He hit it, and he quit it. Probably with a few very pleasurable hours in between. That was exactly what I wanted.
Add the fact that I’d known and trusted him for most of my life, and it seemed like the easiest solution on the planet. Even so, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my jeans to run the idea past Beth. My raven-haired best friend had a wealth of experience when it came to men, and she was always waiting in the wings to give me advice.
Sometimes, it was great. Other times, it sucked. But it was always honest and from a good place. I had no doubt that her ears were burning and that she was waiting at the phone.
A couple of seconds later, my suspicions were confirmed when her chirpy voice answered. “I was just thinking about you. What’s going on, girlfriend?”
“It’s about my pesky little problem,” I started.
Beth’s laughter on the other end of the line warmed my heart. “Most women wouldn’t think of having their hymens intact as a pesky problem, but okay. What can I do for you?”
“I think I’ve reached a decision about who might be best to help me out with it.”
Beth sighed and groaned at the same time. “Please don’t say Brett.”
“Brett.”
“We’ve been through this. He sees you as nothing but Mark’s baby sister, Soph. What makes you think that you’ll be able to change his mind now?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said coyly. “Maybe because he kissed me yesterday.”
Beth was quiet for a few seconds, then she shrieked so loudly that I ripped the phone away from my ear. It was a good thing that Beth worked from home as a copywriter, or her coworkers might’ve been calling an ambulance.
“He did what?”
“He kissed me,” I repeated, trying, and failing, to keep the smile out of my voice.
“Wait, this happened yesterday, and I’m only hearing about it now?” While she wasn’t quite shriekin
g anymore, her voice was several decibels higher than it should’ve been, causing a few of my colleagues to look over at me curiously.
I lowered my voice, avoiding their stares. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that it really happened, but it did.”
“How?” she breathed, having seemingly controlled herself. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s not so much to tell, actually,” I admitted, though it sounded like a lie even to my own ears. “He came over for breakfast yesterday, and we got to talking while I was cleaning up.”
“And then?” Beth prompted. “Where was Mark?”
“He went to shower before they went off to do whatever it is that they do without me. Brett and I kept talking. I went to collect his plate, but we did this weird reach for it at the same time thing, and his fork fell.”
“Ooh, and then there was just, like, sexual tension when you went to pick it up?”
“Something like that.” It was the best I could do, since I didn’t even really know what had happened to make him close that damn gap. “Anyway, next thing I knew, we were kissing.”
“Was it everything you ever wanted it to be?” Beth babbled excitedly. “Like did angels serenade you and unicorns rain down from the sky?”
“Something like that,” I said again.
Beth breathed out on an exasperated sigh. “Stop saying that. How was it? For real.”
I hesitated, trying to find the words to describe it. “It was magical. Electric. Inevitable. I don’t know. Take your pick, but it was unreal.”
“So, what’re you going to do about it?” Beth asked. “Please tell me there’s a plan?”
“There might be,” I said hesitantly. “Like I said, I want him to be the one. I just have to figure out how to make that happen.”
“What’s to figure out?” Beth asked. “If he kissed you, he must be into you, too.”
“It wasn’t that kind of kiss. It was more of a spur of the moment lips and tongues pressing against each other so quickly that I would’ve thought I’d imagined it if I hadn’t been so tingly afterward.” I felt disappointed in the knowledge that it was true.
“There’s no such thing,” Beth assured me. “Even if he just caved in the spur of the moment, it has to mean that he’s at least thought about it before.”
“You think?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she said. “Kissing isn’t something that just happens, no matter how close your lips come to someone else’s.”
Taking a moment to think about her words, I let a little surge of hope run through me. It was true. You didn’t just go around kissing anyone who came close to you. “So, you think I should go for it, then?”
“Yes. Of course, you should go for it. That man is yummy, and I bet he is a ten in bed. Maybe even an eleven. Go for it hard, girl. Every pun intended. Let me know how it goes.”
Chapter Five
Brett
My brain had been all messed up for two days. My dick was getting the wrong idea because of it. It was starting to think that Soph was fair game.
She wasn’t.
The only thing to do was to confront the situation head on, but Sophia’s phone just kept ringing. When I’d all but given up hope that she would answer, the call finally connected, and her soft voice came over the line.
“Hey, Brett. What’s up?”
My cock, that was what. I couldn’t, and didn’t, say that however. “Not much. We need to talk though, Sophia.”
“Oh, okay. What about?”
She wanted to play it coy? I didn’t have time for that shit. As it was, paperwork was piling up on my desk, and I’d snapped at not one, not two, but three of my assistants because my thoughts kept drifting to sex. Not just sex. Pure, animalistic fucking. I was frustrated as hell.
“You know what,” I growled lowly.
Sophia paused, sucking in an audible breath. “The kiss.”
“That,” I confirmed. “Meet me tonight at Ed’s. Seven. We’ll talk.”
I didn’t really want to get into it in public, but a restaurant was a better bet than anywhere we’d be alone. My cock was too obsessed with her to meet her somewhere private.
My dick was horrifically upset that we still hadn’t broken our dry spell, and it was playing tricks on me as a result. I deserved the misery, though, for entertaining the fantasies that popped up in my head uninvited every so often.
Sophia was quiet, hesitant. “Okay. Ed’s at seven. I’ll see you there.”
“See you there.”
Satisfied that the world would right itself after our talk, I dug into the stack of paperwork with renewed focus and got through most of it before the day was out and it was time to leave. I didn’t have time to go home for a shower or to change, but it wasn’t like I was going on a date, so I figured that it didn’t matter.
Going straight from work meant that I was probably overdressed for the burger joint and cocktail bar where I was meeting Sophia, though. I stashed my tie and jacket in my Audi, rolled up the sleeves of my blue button-up shirt, and ran my hands through my hair a few times. With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I deemed myself presentable enough and made my way into the restaurant.
Sophia wasn’t there yet when I arrived, but since the ride over had taken less time than it could’ve, I was ten minutes early. I ordered a beer and settled in for the wait.
Ed’s was retro, if you reimagined what the word meant. It drew inspiration from Hollywood’s Sunset Boulevard in the 1950’s and was a curvy and sleek space spread through multiple dining rooms, bars, and lounges. It was spread over two levels that was reminiscent of places I’d seen in shows like Mad Men.
Over-sized chairs and booths fit inside a catacomb-like space with huge sparkling chandeliers and a sloping and twisting staircase. It kind of felt like a member of the Rat Pack could walk in at any time for a surprise performance.
I was seated in one the coves, a u-shaped booth which was private enough for Sophia and me to have the conversation that we needed to, but I’d also chosen one with a chandelier hanging directly overhead so it wasn’t too intimate of a setting.
A drop-dead sexy brunette walked through the doors, wearing a little black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that was made to be bundled around her waist when you fucked its owner up against a wall. It showed just enough of her perky tits to tease the shit out of the parts that were left covered.
Her hair shone like polished teak. I squinted. Blinked.
Because the face that it framed was Sophia’s.
Fuck. I had not been expecting her to show up looking like that. She scanned the room, a smile curling on her lips when she spotted me.
When she started walking toward the cove, my vision narrowed, and my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. Her hips swayed ever so slightly, her toned calves rippling as she moved.
The low music and hum of the other diners faded into the background. There was only Sophia. She was the one and only thing I could focus on. I stood when she neared the table, forcing an easy smile onto my face.
“Hey, Brett,” she said, sounding the same as she always did. None of my own discomfort was present in anything about her. She drew me in for a quick hug, pressing her soft body against mine for a second that ended too soon.
Had she always smelled that good? Intensely divine, vanilla fused with a deep amber. There was no other way to describe it, but really, when did I start thinking amber had a smell?
My head was way more messed up than I realized, but there was no way I could let her know about it. That was a dangerous game that I was not playing, not with her.
Instead, I motioned toward the other side of the booth from where I was sitting. “Hey, Soph. Have a seat.”
“Thanks,” she said. Only, when she slid into the booth, she moved almost all the way to where my beer was perched on a coaster.
Okay, I could handle this. Dinner with a friend. A friend who looked and smelled better than any fri
end had a right to, but a friend nonetheless.
A friend who just so happens to be Mark’s little sister, I reminded myself. Following her into the booth, I stopped a few inches short of where I’d previously been seated, because any amount of distance I could maintain between us was essential. I grabbed my beer for a long pull.
From somewhere beyond my Sophia-induced haze, a waiter appeared at our table. “Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?”
Sophia nodded toward my beer. “I’ll just have a Marz as well, please.”
The waiter turned to me. “Anything else for you, sir?”
I was going to need something stronger if I was going to preserve my sanity with Sophia’s scent invading my space and the dark line of her cleavage taunting me from the way she was leaning with her elbows on the table.
“I’ll have a SoCo. Make it a double. On the rocks.”
The waiter gave us a little bow and left me to my inappropriate thoughts and the conversation I never thought I’d have to have with Sophia.
“So,” I started. “About that kiss. It was a mistake, Soph. You know that, right?”
Sophia gave me a half smile and sat back, raising a dark brow. “Wow. Straight to business then? I’m fine. Thank you for asking, Brett. I had a great day, but yesterday was a little unproductive. Mondays suck. How are you?”
Okay, so I deserved that. I pursed my lips, but I couldn’t keep them from twitching up at the corners just a bit. “I’m good. Busy, but that‘s the story of my life these days, so it‘s nothing new. I‘m with you on the Monday thing, though. About the kiss—”
“Don’t worry about it, Brett. Seriously, it was nothing. Barely a kiss.”
What? No, it was definitely not nothing, but I couldn’t let her know that it meant anything to me.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s just that it can’t happen again. Okay?”
Sophia reached out and placed her soft hand gently over mine. “I’m not a child anymore, in case you haven’t noticed. If I tell you not to worry about it, I mean that you shouldn’t worry about it. It really was nothing.”