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.
9
SOPHIE SAT IN MARK’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.