One Night Standards(19)

He wanted to resist, but she pulled at him, and it was as futile as fighting the tide. He leaned into her embrace, letting her hug him, feeling the knots of anxiety and pressure start to slowly ease away in the face of her warmth. He clung to her, holding her against him like a lifeline. “You shouldn’t have to be sorry,” he told her.

“Hush. Let me make it up to you.” She smoothed her hands over his chest, around his waist. “How can I help you feel better?”

He chuckled weakly. “Isn’t this how we keep getting into trouble?”

“It doesn’t have to mean sex,” she said. “Sit down for a second.”

She nudged him toward the bed, and his body hardened in a rush as it did every time he was near Sophie and a bed. His responses were almost instinctual now, when it came to her.

She stood in front of him, framing his face in her hands. “That presentation—and Marion & Co.’s response to it—wasn’t your fault,” she said. He blinked, surprised by the turn of the conversation. “That idiot woman didn’t know who she was dealing with. I could tell that you didn’t agree with what she was doing. And I know you. You’re a better businessman than that.”

“How can you tell?” He felt like an idiot, but a small part of his heart warmed at her words.

“Because I’ve talked to you. I’ve spent time with you,” she continued, stroking his cheek. “You’re intelligent, you’re intuitive, and you’re amazing with people. I bet, given the opportunity, you’ll be fantastic.”

“Of course,” he added, his hands reaching for her hips and holding her lightly, “that means being ‘fantastic’ against you.”

“I’m not worried about me,” she responded, kissing his jaw. His grip on her hips tightened. “If I can’t compete, that’s my problem.”

“Easy for you to say.” He inched his hands up slightly on her rib cage, resting below her breasts. He’d felt the same way, until she’d trounced him at the Vegas competition.

“I mean it,” she said. “When it’s business, it’s business. It has nothing to do with what we have in private. I promise you—we can keep it separate.”

He groaned, leaning his head against the crook of her neck and breathing in her sweet perfume, feeling her breasts fill his hands. “Damn it,” he said, “it would be so much smarter if we could leave each other alone.”

“Shh,” she said, pressing him back against the bed. “It’s not a matter of smart or stupid. We need each other. We want each other. And more importantly, we care about each other.”

The moment she said the words, he knew they were true. He cradled her against him, kissing her hair, her neck.

“This isn’t just physical,” she murmured. “That’s why I keep coming back.”

“Sophie,” he breathed.

She reached for his pants, unbuckling them, lowering them down off his body. He reached for her jeans, taking them off, enjoying the lovely view of her. He took off her tank top; she took off his shirt, until they were both naked. She shook her head when he reached for her, though.

“I want to make you feel better,” she said, her gaze slightly naughty, but with an undercurrent of seriousness. “This isn’t about me.”

“But I…oh.” He stopped abruptly when she leaned down, pressing heated kisses down his torso, around his belly button. He stopped breathing altogether when she got lower, kissing his thighs, creeping higher. She cupped his balls, and he let out the breath he was holding in an explosive whoosh. “Sophie,” he growled.

She took his cock into her mouth, tickling the tip gently, grazing him ever so minutely with her teeth. He grimaced, his hips bucking slightly of their own accord. She started sucking on him, slow, measured draws, flooding his body with sensation. His breathing went harsh and ragged in response. He could feel her tongue dancing over him, sliding around the length of him as she took him in as deep as she could. The wet, heated caress of her mouth pushed him toward the breaking point.

“Sophie,” he said, his fingers twining in her hair. “I need you.”

She pulled away, and he could see her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. “You have me,” she said with a small smile. “This is all for you.”

He moved quickly, shifting her onto her back. “As great as it feels,” he said, kissing her breasts, “it isn’t for me unless you’re there, too.”

He got up, hastily getting a condom and rolling it on. Then he reached for her again, and she arched her hips up to meet him. He slid in, surprised to find how wet she was, simply from pleasuring him. “How did I get lucky enough to find you?” he said.

Then all talking ceased, as he felt her body tighten around him. He moved slowly, savoring each stroke, until she was wild beneath him, her hips pistoning against his, her legs curling around his waist. Despite his best intentions, he found himself picking up speed, as her nails clawed gently down his back. Soon they both were panting, clutching each other, until the pressure built inevitably to its explosive conclusion. He shouted her name as he slammed into her, and she cried out as she clung to him, their bodies so close that they seemed inseparable.

After long moments, he felt his mind return from the blissful release. He rolled to his back, taking her with him, resting her on his body. “I mean it,” he said. “I’m so lucky I found you.”

“It’ll be all right, Mark,” she assured him. “I promise. We can do this.” And she kissed him, her smile wide and hopeful.

“If you say so,” he said, even as worries started to return, too. She said it would be all right. She said she believed in him. She knew he could do well.

Now, all he had to do was actually do the job—and see if she felt the same way in the morning.





6




“WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT?” Lydia whispered to Sophie in the small conference room in the hotel. “I called your room to do some last-minute walk-throughs, but there was no answer. I worried!”

Sophie forced herself not to glance over at Mark. “I was going stir crazy and decided to go out.” She grinned. “What are you, my mother?”

“You’re lucky I’m not Mom,” Lydia muttered back. “I still can’t believe you convinced her to stay home for this as it is. But don’t change the subject. Where’d you go?”

“I took a walk,” Sophie improvised. “Wanted to get my head clear for today, that’s all.”

Lydia looked unconvinced, but let it drop, thankfully. “I hope it worked. Those guys look mean.”

Sophie used the excuse and shot her gaze over to the other side of the room. Mark looked…Well, she wouldn’t say mean, unless mean meant razor-sharp and smokin’ hot. He was every inch a professional in an expensive charcoal-gray suit with a royal-blue silk tie over a sparkling white shirt. His face was clean shaven and surprisingly stern. Nothing of the carefree lover she remembered from the previous night remained.

“He looks like he means business,” Sophie mused, then winced when Lydia’s eyebrows shot up at the comment. “And the, er, other lady. His boss. She looks pretty fierce herself.”

Lydia did not look appeased, but before she could remark further, Mrs. Marion and Lily Hunter walked into the room.

“Thank you all for coming.” Mrs. Marion sat at the head of the table. She always sounded amused—and not necessarily in a nice way. The habit was starting to make Sophie uncomfortable. “I’m very interested in seeing what you came up with for this next round of presentations. I trust you have everything you need?”

Before Sophie could answer, Mark spoke up, his voice clear and authoritative. “We’re ready.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. She’d never heard him sound like that, either. Usually his drawl was just this side of casual. Now, there was an underlying tension. She knew how much this meant to him. Hadn’t she encouraged him last night?

Don’t be nervous, she silently counseled. Then she saw that Mrs. Marion was staring at her expectantly. “We’re set,” she added, but it sounded hesitant compared to Mark’s ringing assertion.

“Since Trimera started off at the first presentation, I thought Diva Nation ought to have the first shot this time,” Mrs. Marion said, steepling her fingers together and sporting a wry smile. “You’ll be starting, Ms. Jones. After your last presentation, I’m looking forward to being impressed.”

Sophie smiled back easily. “I certainly hope you will be. We’ve been working hard on developing a line of cosmetics that I think will impress your most discerning customers.”

With that, she launched into her presentation, using Lydia’s examples. She was proud of what they’d come up with. The packaging was midnight-blue with silver detailing, just as she’d suggested. The ads they’d mocked up were both classic and modern—hip, without being dated. They then handed Mrs. Marion the cosmetic samples themselves, which Sophie considered their ace in the hole. “As you can see, the cosmetics themselves are of the highest quality material and feel as luxurious as the packaging. Our cosmetics are noted for feeling ‘naked’…that is, you won’t even be aware of wearing them. They’re light, fresh and hypoallergenic.”