One Night Standards (16 page)

She leaned down, pressing the full length of her body against his, her hands gripping his shoulders, her legs twining with his and drawing him deeper into her welcoming warmth. Her breathing was now rhythmic and quick, her face drawn in sexual concentration. She was close, he knew it. “Come on, baby,” he whispered near her ear, biting her shoulder as he slammed upward, groaning when she moaned and ground her body against his.

“Ah…
ah…
” She threw her head back, her hips moving spasmodically against his.
“Mark!”

She shuddered over him, and he drove himself into her, relishing in the sensation of her release closing around him. He waited for a full minute as she collapsed against him. It took everything he had not to give in and surrender himself with her. But he wanted this sensation to last.

“That was amazing,” she said finally, lifting her head. Then she looked at him, puzzled. “You didn't, though, did you?”

“That one was for you,” he said. Then, with one deft motion, he flipped her onto her back, never exiting her body. “We've got all night, Sophie.”

All night, and the rest of our lives…

She laughed, and he delighted in the sound. The laugh turned husky as he moved inside her, the slickness of her orgasm making the motion fluid and easy. “I've never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he said as he began to move in and out in a simple, continuous motion. The tight feel of her, clenching around him, was like coming home. He had always enjoyed sex, but it had never felt this perfect before. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, the sliding caress of her body beneath his feeling both passionate and yet somehow comforting.

“I've never felt this way,” she responded, her legs anchoring themselves over his hips as she rose to meet his every thrust. She arched her back, exposing her neck to his heated kisses. The low, throaty moans that she whispered only seemed to heighten the sensations he was feeling.

She's the most amazing woman,
he marveled.
How did I get so lucky?

They moved as one, rhythmically, as perfectly as a symphony, their bodies in a harmony of heat and beauty. She clutched at his shoulders, and he leaned down, his tongue twining with hers as they kissed deeply, their bodies connected in every way possible.

He gave himself over to her, the snug closeness, the way her every noise and movement seemed to turn him on even more. After a few moments, she was breathing hard again, and he could sense his own climax building.

“Sophie…baby, I'm…”

“Yes,” she said, her fingernails raking down his back and causing his pleasure to redouble. “I'm there, I'm going to…”

She cried out, and the sound and the sensation of her body closing around him yet again finally pushed him over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him like a cannonball, and he slammed himself against her willing body with a muted shout of release. For a second, there was absolutely nothing else in the world but her and the sensation exploding through him. He collapsed against her, his heart pounding, the blood rushing in his ears as he struggled for breath.

After long moments, he rolled to his side, still holding her. “That was amazing,” he said.

“That is an understatement,” she said, laughing. Then she smoothed the hair off his forehead, away from his eyes. “It's always been this way. Indescribable.” She shrugged. “I never thought I'd be this insane for great sex.”

He knew immediately that, despite his efforts, she'd shifted back to her pain. “You weren't just going crazy for great sex,” he reminded her. “Neither was I.”

“That's how it started,” she reminded him.

He stroked her shoulder. “But that's not how it's ended up.”

She still looked worried, he noticed. And the fact that she was forcing herself to smile brightly only made him feel worse.

He traced her cheek with one fingertip, marveling at the softness of her skin. “We won't come up with all the solutions tonight,” he said. “But we will come up with something, I promise you.”

She nodded, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't quite believe him. After the way the Marion & Co. fiasco had panned out, things hadn't worked out for everyone. They'd worked out for him. They'd simply turned out to be a disaster for her.

“I won't leave you hanging,” he continued. “Got that?”

She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. “Let's just enjoy this weekend,” she said. “Then…we'll see what happens.”

The guilt he'd felt increased, almost drowning him. He set his jaw. It had just been business, and he hadn't meant to hurt her—but she was hurting. He thought he could chalk it up to bad luck, and continue a relationship with her. But could he do that, knowing he'd damaged her relationships with her family, and cost her her job? Would he ask her to leave everything and move in with him in New York? And, after all that…would she always hold those things against him, even though she claimed not to?

He closed his eyes, holding her to him tightly. He was a problem solver, damn it.

There had to be something else, some better way to do this. He loved her enough—he owed her enough—to find it.

S
OPHIE SAT IN
M
ARK
'
S BEDROOM
, the dim light pouring in through the half-closed blinds.

So this is what it feels like to be unemployed,
she mused, leaning back and stretching. Other than the nagging guilt, it didn't feel that bad. In fact, there was a certain relief to know that in some ways her fate was decided and it was out of her hands.

“How are you feeling?”

She looked up to see Mark, wearing only a robe, carrying a breakfast tray. His hair was mussed, and he looked outrageously sexy.

“I'm famished,” she said as he put the tray in front of her.

“It's nothing fancy,” he said modestly. “I hope you like cheese omelets, since that's my specialty.”

It looked like something a restaurant might serve. He'd even included a small vase with a rose. The omelet looked fluffy, and there was salsa as a garnish. He'd also included buttered toast, a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice.

“You're spoiling me,” she said, smiling at him.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he said, and she wondered offhand if he was still feeling guilty.

“You don't have to do anything for me,” she said softly, hoping that he understood she meant more than serving her breakfast.

He sat down next to her. “Maybe I want to,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. “Eat your eggs, before they get cold.”

She did, enjoying the savory meal even as she had difficulty swallowing due to the lump in her throat. He was being so kind, so tender. He was in love with her.

How are we going to make this work?

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She wasn't going to think about the competition, or business, or anything but each moment she was living. There was only the present, and she wasn't going to ruin it with stress.

Time enough to worry,
she counseled herself, sipping the fresh-squeezed orange juice.
I may not have a chance like this again.

She shut her eyes. She didn't want to think about her relationship with Mark ending, but there it was…creeping into her consciousness, hovering at the edge of all of her thoughts.

She opened her eyes to find Mark staring at her. “You're doing it again,” he said.

“Doing what?” she said as he took the breakfast tray away and put it on a nearby desk.

“You're thinking about what happened.”

She tried for a smile, but it came out halfhearted. “It just happened, Mark,” she said. “I've got to fly back today, and I'll be dealing with the fallout then.” She raised her chin resolutely. “But we've still got a few hours, right?”

Now he looked somber. She leaned forward, reaching for the belt of his robe. “Mark,” she said, tugging the knot loose. “I'll be honest with you. I don't know how much time we have together.”

Before he could protest her statement, his robe fell open, revealing his glorious nakedness.
I can't get enough of this man,
she thought with a smile, pushing aside the covers to reveal her own naked body. She was gratified when he studied her, his frown turning into a smile.

“We've got plenty of time, Sophie,” he said in a thick voice as she helped him shrug out of his robe.

“I know,” she reassured him. “So let's enjoy it.”

She kissed the rough stubble starting to grow on his chiseled chin, moving down to the hard column of his neck. Her fingers twined in his hair, delighting in the messy waves. He growled and buried his face against her shoulder, nuzzling her. She laughed, feeling some of the stress bunching up her muscles start to ease.

His hands smoothed down the planes of her sides, resting on her hips as he kissed first one nipple, then the other, before slowly drawing it into his mouth. She gasped as he suckled, slowly, causing waves of sensation to radiate through her in growing circles. She arched up to meet him, her fingers clutching at the yoke of his shoulders. “Mark,” she breathed, the single syllable infused with happiness and longing.

He smiled, that devilish, mischievous smile that was undoubtedly her favorite. “Hold on a sec,” he said, then his mouth moved lower, pressing heated kisses against her stomach as his hands moved lower….

She jolted in surprise when he parted her legs with his long, agile fingers, pressing into her warm heat slowly. He kissed down to her curls, his breath heating her most sensitive junction. She felt her heartbeat beginning to pound in an increasing rhythm. She gasped as she felt his tongue dip inside her, tracing her folds with gentle insistence.

She leaned back, all rational thought fleeing in the face of his sensuous onslaught. Her fingers dug into the sheets, her hands bunching into fists as he slowly worked his magic, his tongue and mouth swirling against her. She felt the beginnings of her climax start to build, and her breathing turned to gasps, as she tossed her head back and forth, desperate to hold on to some semblance of control.

He moved his mouth, and she almost whimpered against the loss of his hot breath when she felt his fingers penetrate her, even as his tongue manipulated her clit. The orgasm hit her like a lightning bolt, sudden and unexpected, and she cried out, slamming her head against the thick pillow reflexively.

When the last rippling aftershocks of the climax dissipated, she looked up to find him grinning at her smugly.

“That was incredible,” she said, blinking slowly, slightly out of breath.

“I'm glad,” he said, and she giggled at his look of almost arrogant satisfaction.

“Pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you?”

He leaned down, kissing her shoulders, her collarbone, the hollow between her breasts. “Pretty pleased with
us,
” he corrected.

“Us,” she echoed. “Has a nice ring to it.”

His eyes were glowing with warmth. “Ready to talk about it?”

Just like that, the stress that had been effectively banished from her now desire-sated body crept back like a thief, infiltrating every muscle. Before she could answer, he sighed.

“Sophie, we can't ignore the situation.”

She bit her lip. “Have you come up with an answer that will help my family and my company, and give you the promotion you deserve?”

He started to say something, then shut his mouth with a click. He shook his head. “Not yet, anyway,” he conceded. “But not talking about it won't get us any closer to an answer.”

She set her chin mutinously. “I don't need you to solve my problems, Mark. I got myself into this mess.”

He rolled her onto him, the feel of his heated skin beneath hers seeping into her like the warmth of a hot-rock massage. She melted onto him, her legs splaying out. She felt the tip of his cock tickle at her still-damp entrance, and her heart skipped a beat.

“This isn't a mess,” he said, his eyes solemn. “It's not a great situation, but I can't be sorry I met you.”

He pushed into her, parting her…filling her. She moaned softly as he withdrew, sliding against her, causing the already sensitive skin to tremble with pleasure.

“I can't be sorry we have this,” he said, his voice thick. He pressed into her again, his hips slowly arching up to meet hers. She gyrated slowly, swiveling her hips to feel him more deeply inside her, and he groaned.

“I'm not sorry we have this, either,” she said as he covered her breasts with his hands, stroking her nipples. She raised her hips up and then lowered them again, savoring the feeling of his long, hard cock inside her.

He groaned, and she could feel the tension in his muscles, corded beneath her palms. She started to increase her tempo, surprised to feel another orgasm starting its incremental build inside her.

I want this forever,
she thought as he smoothed his hands to her hips, pulling her to him, burying himself in her. She leaned down, her breasts dragging across his chest as their bodies slid against each other. He bit her shoulder gently, and she twined her legs with his, molding herself to him…keeping him deeply inside her as they rocked against each other.

His breathing went harsh and ragged, and he rolled her onto her back, his thrusts becoming powerful, insistent. She clenched her thighs, eager to hold him, almost desperate in her need. She felt the climax shimmer through her, and she cried out just as he groaned, his hips bucking against hers as her body clenched him.

After long moments, he collapsed against her, the thin sheen of sweat from their bodies making them slick. She could feel his hot breath against her neck, smell his woodsy, purely masculine scent surrounding her.

I want this forever,
she thought again. Not only the passion, but the aftermath. The feeling of comfort. The feeling of hope, and security. Something beyond work.

She wanted love.

He kissed her throat. “We have to make this happen,” he rasped. “I'll think of something.”

She tried hard to focus on her thoughts. She was too used to taking care of herself to simply wait while someone else handled the problem.

“We'll think of something,” she corrected, and ignored the tension that invariably crept back into her body. “Don't worry. We'll think of something.”

S
OPHIE STEELED HERSELF TO GO
back to her mother's house. Sophie had spent the time before at Mark's place, trying futilely to come up with some kind of solution. She'd tried calling her mother, but there had been no answer, and Sophie really hadn't expected one. If she was going to patch this up, it would have to be on her mother's home turf, at her home. She just hoped that her mother wasn't in full-entrenchment mode. She'd gotten that way after Sophie's father had left, and when Trimera had fired her. Sophie certainly didn't want to be lumped in that category.

“She's not taking it well,” Lydia had said, when Sophie had called. “She's not talking to me, either. And she's in a real depression. I haven't seen her this bad, even when Trimera canned her.”

That made Sophie feel even worse. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, technically, she still felt responsible. Sophie didn't know where her future was heading, but she had to fix this. Her family meant too much to her to simply walk away, claiming innocence.

She opened her mom's door. “Mom?”

She found her in the kitchen, still in her bathrobe despite the fact it was one o'clock in the afternoon. She was sipping a cup of coffee. There were papers strewn around, obviously notes about the Marion & Co. product line. Sophie felt her stomach sink to the floor. Her mom looked up. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice flat.

“Mom,” Sophie said, sitting at the kitchen table next to her. “I came here to see if I could put things right between us.”

Her mother frowned. “There's nothing to fix, Sophie. It's all over.”

“You can't mean that,” Sophie said, feeling bereft. “I made a mistake, yes, but I'm sorry and I don't want you to…to cut me out of your life for it!”

Her mother seemed to finally focus in on Sophie after that statement. “No, no, Sophie,” she corrected. “I didn't mean…the Marion & Co. issue is all over. It's impossible to put right. That's what I meant.”

“So…we're all right?”

“I'm not thrilled with you now, no,” her mother answered. “But you're my daughter, and I love you. And I can't blame you. As tough and street smart as you like to think you are—baby, you're still naive when it comes to business.”

Sophie bit her lip. Things were on the road to recovery—she wasn't about to ruin that, simply because she felt insulted by her mother's patronizing air.

“You got snowed,” her mother continued, pausing to sip her coffee. “I should've expected it. I'm surprised it wasn't worse, actually.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you see him again?”

“Yes.” Sophie's gaze didn't waver. She didn't want to ruin things, true, but she also wasn't going to lie about Mark.

“Do you expect to continue in a relationship with this guy?”

“Yes.”

“I'll bet he's as surprised about it as you are,” her mother said.

Sophie gritted her teeth. “Mom, he never set out to use me.”

“I won't argue with you about it. It's too late now anyway,” her mother said with a shrug. “I suppose you're moving to New York to be closer to him, then?”

Sophie glanced down at the tabletop. “We're still discussing what we're going to do,” she said. Then, because she couldn't help herself, she asked, “What makes you think he wouldn't move out here?”

“He's already made it clear that his career comes before you, and his job's in New York,” her mother pointed out. “And you don't have anything holding you here, so it seemed logical.”

Sophie swallowed hard. “So…you're firing me, then? Just…cutting me off?”