by Kitty French
The line clicked as Elise hung up, and Sophie slumped against the wall. Dan wasn’t on holiday. Why would he be on holiday? He was supposed to be in Milan for negotiations. With Bob. But Elise would know that, wouldn’t she? There could be no mistake. There was no imaginable possibility of a misunderstanding.
Sophie frowned, and rewound the messages back a few days to listen to Dan. She dropped her head in her hands as his voice washed around the empty hallway. Dan. Her Dan. Someone else’s Dan. He talked of Bob as if he were with him, but now she knew better. She couldn’t explain this away, the conclusion was obvious. He was actually on holiday with his mistress. Shock stole the air from Sophie’s lungs.
She might have lost her claim to the moral high ground the moment she’d let Lucien touch her, but this thing of Dan’s… it was different. If they were on holiday, if he was lying to work… it was a proper relationship. Jesus, did he love her, whoever she was?
Scalding tears fell down Sophie’s cheeks at the idea of Dan saying those precious, sacred words to someone else.
He had always been her anchor, but too many months of burying her head in the sand over suspicions of his infidelity had cut her adrift until she’d floated too far away from him to reach out for his hand.
Drifting aimlessly, she’d reached instead for the hand of a big sexy Viking with lust coursing through his veins.
A heavy blanket of sadness settled around her shoulders. Her marriage was broken. Images of Dan and some faceless woman scrolled through her mind. A brunette in a restaurant. A blonde on a beach. A redhead in his bed.
Who was she? Who was the woman Dan had decided was worth more than their marriage vows? Sadness slid sideways into a solid wall of anger. Boiling hot rage that curdled in her gut like rancid infection.
How dare he? How fucking dare Dan trample on her love, for all these weeks and months, years even, for all Sophie knew. Her own guilt melted away under the heat of her anger. This was his fault.
This. Was. His. Fault.
Sophie’s eyes flicked upwards towards the clock. Midday.
With a resolve she didn’t know she possessed, she turned her mobile off and headed upstairs to change. She didn’t intend on being late for work.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucien took one look at Sophie’s face as she came through the door just before two o clock that afternoon and knew straight away that something had changed.
For one, she’d obviously been crying. For another, there was a new light in her eyes; something bold and determined. But by far the most telling sign of all was the stuffed-looking weekend bag she carried over her arm.
“Well, hello, Ms. Black,” he flicked an eyebrow up. “I like you and all, but I’m not sure I’m ready to move in together.”
She didn’t laugh, just dropped the bag inside the door.
“You asked me to stay with you until Sunday. I’m all yours.”
He nodded and tapped the end of the pencil on the desk as he appraised the challenging jut of her chin and her poker straight back. She was furious with someone, and the fact that she was here meant it wasn’t him.
“Are you sure Mr. Tibbles can survive without you?” He flicked a lazy, speculative eyebrow upwards in question.
She sighed heavily.
“It’s become abundantly clear to me that no one gives a damn where I am this week, Lucien.”
Ouch. It would seem that her dickhead husband had grown lazy in his efforts to cover his tracks. Poor Princess.
“Sit down, Sophie.”
She looked momentarily wrong-footed, and then sat down opposite him. Today she reminded him of a frightened young horse, skittering and wary-eyed, a world away from the woman he’d seduced at the club last night.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She sighed again and her shoulders slumped.
“There’s not much to say. Yesterday I thought my husband was having an affair. Today I know he is.”
Lucien nodded. “Knowledge is power, Sophie.”
“Is it?” Her anguished eyes came up to meet his. “It doesn’t feel powerful. It feels like shit.”
“Yet here you are.”
“I’m not proud of it, Lucien. I’m not proud of the fact that I want to hurt him back.”
This wasn’t right. She needed to do this for herself, not her husband. Lucien spoke with feeling.
“Don’t do this to hurt him, Sophie. Do it for you. Do it because you deserve better. Do it because you’re beautiful.” He leaned forward emphatically. “Do it because you damn well want to, and then on Sunday, you go back to him and call the fucking shots.”
She hadn’t taken her eyes off him as he spoke, and he’d watched the emotions play across her face.
Disbelief. Pain. Resolve. Christ, she was exquisite. He was going to screw her ten different ways until she couldn’t stand up, and then send her home to wipe the floor with that man.
Sophie went through the motions at her desk, looking for comfort in the familiarity of switching on the computer and clearing emails and post methodically. She’d been so certain that coming into work was the best thing, and now she was here she was almost as certain that it was a huge mistake.
Lucien Knight bewitched her. Despite the riot of emotions she’d been through since he’d dropped her home last night, she’d only had to look at him this morning and lust had snaked through her veins.
Jesus, he made her feel good. He had a way of looking at her that wiped out everything else around him, whether they were alone in his office or in the middle of the packed Gateway Club.
The computer pinged, heralding the arrival of the chat message box.
“Have you taken a vow of silence, Ms. Black?”
Sophie shook her head and lifted her eyes to the ceiling.
“I’m busy.”
“And I’m thirsty.”
She sighed loud enough for Lucien to hear, and then crossed to the coffee machine. Lucien leaned back on his chair, and Sophie struggled to maintain her relaxed composure while she was hyper-aware of his eyes on her bottom. The cup rattled slightly in its saucer as she carried it through and deposited it on Lucien’s desk.
“Is there anything in particular that you’d like me to do today, Mr. Knight?”
The lascivious gleam in his sapphire eyes told Sophie of the multitude of answers he was considering. She breathed in heavily and glanced pointedly out of the window, but she still heard the deep rumble of his laughter.
“As a matter of fact, Ms. Black, there is, yes.”
Sophie dropped her gaze warily back to his and waited for him to elaborate. She couldn’t second-guess him. He was just as likely to ask her for a saucy massage as for last months cash projection.
“A new supplier has sent over the demo file of their latest products. Could you review it please?”
Sophie nodded with a tight smile. She could do that. She could watch a product video and report back. “Of course.” She inclined her head and backed away towards the sanctuary of her office.
“And Sophie? I want you to listen carefully to the product descriptions and pick your three favourites.”
Sophie frowned. “Lucien, honestly, please don’t rely on my input to choose stock. I’ve no clue with this stuff.”
“I know that. You’re not choosing stock.” He shook his head, that dirty gleam still in his eyes. “You’re choosing tonight’s entertainment.”
Sophie’s mouth dropped in a perfect O, and she turned on her heel and scooted back to her desk before he could see the blush on her cheeks.
An hour later, Sophie gulped hard and clicked open the file that Lucien had forwarded. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but how bad could it be? It was a corporate presentation, after all. She turned the sound down in the hope that he wouldn’t realise that she was watching it, close as he sat outside her office door. The idea of him knowing she was in here looking at sex toy videos felt wrong, as if she were watching porn at her desk when she should be adding up spreadshe
ets. Except for the fact that she was paid to do precisely this stuff. She needed to get over her hang-ups, and fast, or she might as well give up and go home. She clicked the volume back up to normal levels and pressed play.
The screen went black, then a second or two later the sensuous silhouette of a couple having sex appeared. She glanced sharply towards the door, and then back at the screen. She could do this. It was pretty tame stuff, really. And it was, at least for the first few minutes. Sophie relaxed a little as she watched the managing director of the company talk about reducing their carbon footprint and the natural qualities of their products. Sophie had been expecting lurid neon plastic, so she was pleasantly surprised by the attention that the company had paid to making their toys appealing to the eye and conscience as well as the body.
The screen faded to black again, and then three words materialised. Chris and Jeannie.
Sophie tipped her head to the side as a different, hotter guy appeared on screen with something pale turquoise and oval shaped in his hand. What was it? Smooth and curved, it lay innocuously along the length of his palm.
A woman slipped onto the seat next to him and slid a finger along the blue petal with a smile, and then leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. She broke away after a few seconds and sat up slightly on the bench to bunch her skirt up around her waist, revealing to the camera that she wore no knickers, and also that she was completely shaved.
The guy moved to straddle behind her and dropped a tender kiss on her neck, then looked up at the camera again with a smile.
“I love to use the petal with my wife. It looks pretty innocent, doesn’t it?”
Jeannie laughed and opened her legs a little wider. “It might look it, but it feels anything but innocent when Chris uses it on me.”
Chris’s arms slid around his wife, the petal in one hand, the other hand coming to rest on her inner thigh.
Jeannie leaned her head back against her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes, and Chris looked up at the camera again.
“To switch it on, just apply pressure to the centre of the petal.”
A low buzzing hummed from the speakers of Sophie’s computer as he turned it on, and Jeannie smiled with a low moan of anticipation. He turned his hand up to the screen to show the petal vibrating lightly, a gentle heart shape that stretched along his palm. Jeannie reached an arm up around her husband’s neck, opening her body fully for his touch.
Chris turned his head to kiss her arm, and then touched the tip of the petal between her legs. Jeannie moaned with pleasure as Chris moved the petal down the length of her sex, his other hand fondling her breasts. Jeannie arched into his hands, and he responded, flattening the petal between her lips and covering it with his palm.
Sophie watched, mesmerised. Chris rocked the petal with two fingers, the wider paddle top vibrating on Jeannie’s clitoris as the lower tip dipped inside her with every nudge of Chris’s middle finger. He kissed Jeannie’s ear, slowly and tenderly, then glanced up at the camera. “See how the petal fits perfectly over Jeannie? The vibrations are more intense here,” he pushed his index finger against the top of the petal and held it hard against Jeannie’s clitoris, making her gasp and moan. “And here.” He pushed his middle finger against the lower tip instead and the camera tracked in to show a detailed shot of the petal as it slipped inside Jeannie’s vagina. Chris’s fingers rocked the petal expertly against his wife, making her groans heavier and her body arch.
“She’s almost there,” Chris murmured, and the camera panned out to show Jeannie with her eyes tight shut and her bottom lip snagged between her teeth. Chris palmed the petal and held it hard between Jeannie’s legs, and she cried out as her body jerked for several moments with the intensity of her orgasm. Chris held his wife fast until she eventually opened her eyes and smiled languidly at the camera, every inch the cat that got the cream.
“The petal does it for me every time,” she purred. “It’s good when I’m alone, and even better with Chris.”
The camera shot moved out to show the couple content in their embrace, his hand still holding the petal flat against her sex.
“Open your drawer.”
The message from Lucien popped up in the instant chat box in the corner of the screen, making Sophie start with guilt. She looked at her closed drawer. Then opened it. Pale blue and pretty, the petal sat nestled in its tissue wrapping.
“A gift for you.”
Sophie swallowed and picked up the petal. It felt even better than she’d imagined. Substantial, but tactile.
“Do you like it?”
Sophie found she couldn’t breathe as easily as usual.
“Yes.”
“I’m imagining you using it on yourself right now.”
Dear God. Sophie swallowed, because she’d been imagining the same thing.
“Yes.”
“Naughty Sophie. You’re at work.”
Sophie nodded, more to herself than him.
“If I came in there right now and slipped my hand up your skirt, I think you’d be wet and ready for me.”
Sophie froze with her fingers above the keyboard. She couldn’t think of a single word to type in response. She heard his low, dirty laugh and had to fight the urge to go through there right now and straddle him at his desk.
He continued the exchange without waiting for her to respond.
“Hold that thought for later and watch the rest of the video.”
She wanted to lay her head on the desk and cry with frustration.
“Yes, Mr. Knight.”
“And Sophie? Remember. Three things. Make a list. I’m going to make you come harder than Jeannie and more times than you can count.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A little after five, Sophie heard Lucien’s office door open. He’d been downstairs in a meeting for most of the afternoon, leaving her free to tussle with her conscience and watch the video as instructed and construct her list of three items.
She’d squirmed her way through most of it, shocked at times, horrified occasionally, but more than anything else she was turned on and desperate for Lucien.
She smiled tensely as he appeared around her doorway.
“Good meeting?”
He shrugged. “I got what I wanted, so yes.”
Sophie drew in a deep breath. It seemed that this man always got what he wanted, in business and in pleasure.
“Have you made your list?”
Sophie automatically glanced down at the scrap of paper on her desk. She had indeed made the list he’d requested, but not without considerable discomfort. Just writing the words had made her blush. Lucien’s gaze followed hers, and he crossed the room and picked the piece of paper up. He scanned it in silence for what felt to Sophie like at least three hours.
“Interesting choices, Ms. Black. A little tame in places, but we can work on that.” He unfastened the top button on his shirt and ran a finger around the collar. For one shocking - no, thrilling - second Sophie thought he was going to start working on it right there and then, but he turned away and headed for the door.
“Finish up, Sophie. We’re leaving.”
Sophie glanced at Lucien’s profile as he drove. He handled the car with the same mastery with which he managed everything else in his life, and it responded to his touch like a rapt lover. She had no clue where they were headed, but she was relieved from the direction he’d taken that it wasn’t the club again.
She could ask him, of course, but it didn’t matter really, because she’d made the decision to give herself over to him completely until Sunday. There was a certain freedom in following his lead; freedom from responsibility, the surrender of all conscious decision.
They were out in open countryside now, which surprised her. Lucien was such a creature of the metropolis, he belonged in the dark, throbbing glass and metal heart of the city. He looked out of place here amongst rolling fields and lush hedgerows.
He turned sharply along an unmarked road and a pair of black iron gates
swung silently open to allow them access.
It was a stark contrast to last night when he’d dropped her home in her suburban cul-de-sac. He steered along the sweeping driveway, and as the car rounded the bend, Sophie caught her first glimpse of what had to be his home. The location had lulled her into expecting a country house, so the breathtaking front wall of Lucien’s thoroughly modern country pad was a revelation. An architect’s wet dream of juxtaposed angles and sheet glass, it was more of a sculpture than a home.
“Wow.”
He turned to look at her as the engine idled whilst he waited for the garage door to slide silently upwards.
“Not what you were expecting?”
“No… actually, it’s just what I was expecting, but in an unexpected place.”
He slid the car inside the garage and climbed out.
“Out here, no one can hear you scream, Ms. Black.”
Sophie got out of the passenger side and eyed him across the roof of the Aston Martin. She wasn’t frightened. For some reason she knew she could trust him. She would never have come here if she wasn’t utterly sure that she would be safe. He would protect her, not harm her.
He was right about one thing, though. There was every chance he was going to make her scream.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sophie followed Lucien into the house and found herself in a huge, sunken lounge, which, from the angles of the windows, appeared to be cut into the hillside. Lush, warm wood tones complemented the oversized mink velvet couches. Classy and understated with huge rugs and sleek furniture, it screamed sexy urbanity, with its theatrical mood lighting and floor to ceiling glass. All very in keeping with the man who stood beside her.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few seconds.”