All of Me (All Series Book 2)

by Ann, Natalie

  “I do. It was a shock to hear him say it. I’m sure you saw that on my face. But deep down I know you, Phil. You aren’t the type to drag anyone along. Actually, I’m baffled you stayed with her as long as you did, but it wasn’t my business.”

  “It was your business.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You were off limits to me back then. I won’t say I wasn’t bothered or hurt when Kaitlin talked about your relationship, but I kept my opinions to myself.”

  “I’m sure Kaitlin didn’t,” he said grimly.

  “No, she didn’t. And that did make things harder. Not only did I have to tell myself you were taken and I couldn’t have you, but also I had to sit back and listen to your family say how much they didn’t care for her. Or didn’t know why you stayed together as long as you did.”

  He didn’t know either. But it was water under the bridge. “It’s over now. I’m sorry I lost five years of my life with her. Years I could have spent with you,” he said, tenderly.

  “It wasn’t the right time. That’s what I choose to believe.”

  “Is now the right time?” he asked.

  The look on her face was almost sad and his heart started to beat frantically. “I think it is. But the question is, do you?”

  “Of course I do,” he said earnestly. “But you don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I believe you.”

  “Then why do you look the way you do?”

  “How is that?”

  “Like you’re upset?”

  “I’m not. Not in the least. I guess I’m sorry you’re still going through what you are with Linda and her family. And I wonder if that is still what’s holding you back a little.”

  He knew what she was talking about now. But it wasn’t the time to say it. Not after what she just witnessed. “I mean it, Sophia. I feel it and I mean it. You know that.” He had told her those same exact words multiple times, and she even repeated them.

  “But you can’t say it,” she said, smiling softly.

  He chuckled. Why that caused him to laugh, he had no idea, but he couldn’t help himself. “Now’s not the time to say it.”

  “You’re probably right. But now is the time for me to say something.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, holding his breath. Maybe she would say it first. If she did he would return the words. Maybe it would be easier that way.

  “What you did back there, pushing Roger against the wall like that.” She paused when he cringed.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Oh, don’t be. Because that was a major turn-on. I didn’t think you had it in you. But now that I know you do…”

  He let out a half laugh—his heart pounding for another reason. “What are you going to do about it?’

  “I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”

  First Time

  The next morning, Phil raised himself on one elbow and peered down at Sophia’s sleeping form. On her side, her back to him, her hair laid out across the pillow, she looked so angelic.

  Only she was no angel last night. No, they had barely made it through his kitchen door when her hands went to his shirt. Quicker than lightning, she was pushing the buttons through the holes. When she tired of it, she grabbed his shirt and spread it apart, sending the remaining buttons flying.

  He had no idea what had come over her, but he wasn’t going to stop her. He didn’t mind. Not one bit. Actually, he was pretty aggressive himself in removing her clothes. Fast, urgent and frantic. They circled each other around the room, pulling and tugging until their last piece of clothing was gone.

  Then he lifted her up and placed her on the breakfast table, smothering her shriek with his lips when the cold wood met her heated flesh. He had to touch and taste every part of her, but he didn’t know where to start.

  His mouth moved from her lips, to her ears, to her cheek, her neck—anything he could reach. All the while his hands roamed over her breasts, her thighs, pushing her legs apart, and stepping in between them. “Condom. Get a condom out of your pants now,” she demanded.

  He didn’t need to be told twice. Stepping back, he looked around the room in a panic—clothes were thrown everywhere. Finally locating his pants by the sink, he quickly grabbed the condom, ripped it open and put it on.

  With hurried movements, he returned to the table, pushing her back on her elbows, his hands under her behind, lifting her, fitting her right against him and sliding in quickly. The rushing in his ears was nothing compared to the heat flooding his veins.

  It was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He moved his hips forward and back while her nails scratched his neck and shoulders. He couldn’t care less. At that moment, all he cared about was this hot woman on his kitchen table, naked and begging him for more.

  He gave it to her. Everything she asked for and then some. He was so close, but refused to end it, not until she was ready. Reaching a hand down between them, he found just the right spot, applied the right amount of pressure and felt her body tense around him.

  Her head thrown back, a howl almost ripping from her throat, she exploded, pulling him into the depths with her.

  Out of breath, he’d felt like he’d run a marathon…sprinting the whole way. His brain cells weren’t working, and without any control or thought at all, the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Damn, I love you.”

  She’d looked shocked, her eyes wide, but then her expression softened. She reached a hand up to his face and said, “Well, damn, I love you, too.”

  He couldn’t believe it. He had waited so long to say it, and he then goes and says it in the heat of the moment, just like that. Of all the stupid ways to tell a woman you love her for the first time, right after sex. The smile she gave him was almost humorous, and he wasn’t sure what she meant by it. And was too afraid to ask.

  Instead, he awkwardly helped her off the table. They picked up their scattered clothes and made their way to his room for the night, neither of them mentioning love again.

  Shaking his head now, he couldn’t believe they’d done that in his kitchen. Never before had he done anything quite like that. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. He just was never with someone before who was that willing.

  Ever so lightly, he trailed his knuckles down her spine. She didn’t stir, her breathing didn’t even change.

  Smiling fondly, he thought back to the first time he’d ever seen her, outside of Kaitlin’s loft. She was a walking pin-up. Curves in all the right places, dressed to the nines, sophisticated, and sexy—the epitome of a blonde bombshell. But when she opened her mouth, she wasn’t snotty at all, nothing like he would have expected. She was nice and sweet and friendly.

  Kaitlin always said Sophia had it all together. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. He never really believed that fully. They’d always danced around each other. Of course he had done the same thing as she did, danced and never made a move.

  Then again, he’d never felt he could have anyone like her. She’d always seemed so far out of reach for him. Not his type. Besides, he’d been with someone else then. He wasn’t even supposed to be having those thoughts about her. But he definitely knew he wasn’t her type.

  Yet she loved him—he knew that now.

  Realizing she wasn’t going to wake up, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom.

  ***

  Sophia waited until she heard the water running and then opened her eyes. She had been awake for most of the night and into the morning.

  When the bed moved, and he shifted his body, she felt his stare on her, but pretended to be asleep. It was hard not to flinch or move when he tenderly brushed his fingers down her back, but she managed it.

  Last night was beyond incredible. Beyond anything she had ever thought of doing in her life. Out of breath, both of them, panting at the end, it was a complete and utter shock that he finally told her he loved her. Only she worried it was more the intimacy of the act they shared rather than the emotion behind the w
ords.

  She had all she could do not to cry. Instead, she forced the smile on her face and said the same thing back to him. She wasn’t stupid; she knew he loved her and cared for her, but she didn’t want to hear it after sex. At least not for the first time. That wouldn’t tell her if he truly loved her or was going on his feelings from the moment.

  It wasn’t as if a man never said he loved her in bed before. Or that she hadn’t said it back. But she’d never felt what she felt for Phil. She didn’t want to say it for the first time before, during or after sex. She wanted that first time to be special. She wanted him to know that when she said it, it was all of her saying it to all of him. Not words driven on sexual endorphins.

  Of course, she should have said it first long before this night. But then again she’d never felt this vulnerable about a man before, and it was still twisting her up inside, making her think irrationally.

  It was too late now. She wasn’t about to not return the words to him. She didn’t want to hurt him. It didn’t change the fact that she was disappointed, though. More so in herself for feeling this way, if the truth were known.

  She was being ridiculous, she knew that, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. All her life she was told how beautiful she was. That was what men loved about her. Why else would they say it in bed? She didn’t want to be told she was loved because of the way she looked, or the way she acted, especially the way she acted in bed. Not a surface type of love.

  Didn’t that reaffirm all her insecurities? Wasn’t that the opposite of what she had been looking for all along in a mate?

  She’d pretty much attacked and ripped his clothes off last night. So they have mind-blowing sex on the kitchen table and then he says he loves her.

  Ugh, she wanted to scream right now. She didn’t think it was possible to feel any more frustrated than when she did the walk of shame the morning after Kaitlin’s wedding. But she thought wrong. She was more frustrated with herself than anything else right now.

  She heard the water shut off and figured there was no use pretending to be asleep.

  When he opened the bathroom door she was lying on her back, watching him walk out in a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts. He stopped and stared at her, uncomfortable for a moment, she could see. Then his eyes softened and he made his way closer.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he ran his hand around her jaw and into her hair, then leaned in for a kiss. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Stunned, she looked at him, wondering what he was apologizing for. Was he sorry he said he loved her? Was he sorry that they had sex in the kitchen? “Sorry for what?”

  “For saying I love you for the first time after sex.”

  She didn’t say a word, just stared at him, unsure of what to even say. It was almost as if he had read her mind this morning, and that was too scary to even consider. “You didn’t want to say it at all?” she asked instead.

  He let out a little laugh. “I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to say it. Even I know saying it after sex doesn’t carry a lot of weight.” She nodded her head and held her breath. “I don’t know when the best time to say it is though.”

  “I think it’s a moot point right now.”

  “True. But I want you to know, I love you. Deeply, more than I ever thought I could love another person.”

  Her eyes filled, and she blinked back the tears, then smiled softly at him. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “So I didn’t stuff up too badly, then?”

  “Not at all.” She pulled him down for a hug. It was progress. And she was touched more than she cared to admit that he knew her well enough to talk about it this morning.

  Services

  “I’ve got donuts,” Sophia said, holding the box up as she stopped at the receptionist desk days later.

  “Great. Why did you bring them in? How can you eat like that and still look the way you do?” Ashley complained.

  It drove Sophia insane that people made comments like that. All. The. Time. Almost like they watched everything she did, everything she ate and made judgments. You would think she had a magic wand or something with the number of comments she had gotten on her body and her looks. “It’s not hard. I don’t eat like this often. Very rarely, if you must know.”

  “Yeah, I guess. This is the first I’ve seen you with donuts. Sorry about that.” Ashley slanted her eyes and whispered, “Can I ask your secret though?”

  Here we go again. “There is no secret, Ashley. I eat healthy. I exercise and I splurge now and again so I don’t feel deprived.”

  Ashley’s eyes went wide. “You exercise? Somehow I don’t see you doing that.”

  What was wrong with people? Where did these thoughts come from? “Why is that?” she asked, her patience wearing thin, but she kept her smile in place. No need for her staff to judge her any more than they obviously were.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” Ashley said, looking embarrassed over her comment. “I just don’t see you sweating or running or anything like that. You’re always so put together—almost perfect. Images of you sweating don’t seem possible.”

  Again, not the first she had heard similar comments. Like she never got dirty in her life. She wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t a pampered doll. “I can assure you my yoga mat sees a lot action. I sweat plenty there. I’m human after all.”

  “So you don’t run or anything like that?”

  Chuckling, Sophia replied, “Hardly. I’ve never seen the appeal to that.”

  “Really, all you do is yoga?” Ashley asked again, looking more curious than judgmental.

  “And Pilates. If you haven’t tried it, then you should. It’s all about your body’s muscle strength and endurance.” Sophia felt like she was lecturing a child right now, but if it would help her staff see her as more human and less like a figurehead, then she would take the time and make small talk. Even though she really hated personal conversations like that.

  Like anything else in her life, she could adapt and that was what she was doing. “If you want to know a secret, then I’ll tell you this. Find what you like, what you enjoy doing, and then the rest is easy.”

  Ashley nodded and a cheery look emerged on her face. “Thanks. I think I will. And I also think I’ll take one of those donuts before anyone else riffles through them.”

  “Here you go,” Sophia said, handing the box over. After Ashley took one, Sophia walked them to the little kitchen in the back and put them on the table. Quickly, before anyone else could get their fingers on them, she grabbed the one Boston Cream she’d asked to be placed in the box.

  Sitting down at her desk, half her donut eaten, she booted up her laptop. By the time her computer was up and running, and her email in front of her, her donut was gone.

  Sifting through the messages—some twenty at a quick glance—she tackled them one by one. Low-hanging fruit, she always told herself. Take the easy ones first, and that was what she did.

  Five minutes later she was down to five emails, four from clients, and one name she didn’t recognize—she’d deal with that one last.

  Finished with what she needed from her clients, she finally opened the email with the subject titled “Your services.” With her eyes scanning the two sentences, she thought surely it was a joke and had to read it again. He won’t need your services much longer. My suggested time for a break is almost at an end, and he will be back with me. What the hell? She read it a third time, then lifted her eyes back to the name and read “L. Clark.”

  It wasn’t hard to figure it out. No names listed in the content of the email, but obviously it was from Linda, though she didn’t remember ever hearing her last name before.

  Picking up her phone, she hit Phil’s number, and then stopped before she could connect the call. No, she wouldn’t bother him with it. It was just an email. Linda didn’t seem to be getting the message no matter how many times Phil told her.

  And she believed Phil. He wouldn’t lie to
her about Linda and a short break. But obviously Linda was telling everyone that. Even her brother accused Phil of that a few days ago.

  That was another thing, another reason she believed Phil. She’d never known or heard of him ever once losing his temper. Maybe with his brothers, but never furious like he was on Friday night. He was livid, his patience at its end. Whatever had happened between him and Linda, he didn’t seem to be able to break away and he looked plenty sick of it.

  She wished she knew what happened between him and Linda but was afraid to ask. It seemed no one knew. At least if Kaitlin did, she was positive Kaitlin would share. Alec might be the only one who had a glimpse into what happened, and Kaitlin had said repeatedly that Alec was clueless, too.

  Nothing to do about it, she set her phone down. It was just an email. She wouldn’t let it bother her and she wouldn’t give Linda the satisfaction of replying. Sophia was better than that. It didn’t matter that there had been a twinge of doubt in her mind. She would be stupid not to have felt it right away.

  Sophia was only being honest with herself. She and Phil hadn’t been together as a couple for long. Barely two months. It didn’t matter that they’d had that one night together five months ago, because that really didn’t count. Still, she believed Phil loved her, even if she wasn’t sure it was to the level of love she wanted.

  If the truth were told, she wondered if her expectations were too high, and was coming to accept she may never find that type of love. Maybe it didn’t exist anywhere but in her mind. But she couldn’t help that she wanted someone to love her for more than her beauty.

  Someone to say he loved her when she had the ugly-cry going on that no one had ever witnessed. Or when she was hot and sweaty and dirty from planting flowers in the yard. To have someone say he loved her when she was looking her worst and letting her guard down. That was what she wanted.

  ***

  Hours later, she’d put the email from Linda behind her—along with her thoughts on love—and had dived right into work, when her phone rang on her desk.