One Night Standards(28)

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.”



SOPHIE 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?”

Her mother’s eyes were sad. “Sophie, honey, I know I was mad at you. And I’m still disappointed. But I love you. I’m not cutting you off. I’m simply trying to be reasonable.”

Sophie had steeled herself for her mother’s anger. Her understanding and the compassion in her voice were unexpected. Sophie felt tears start to well up in her eyes, and she cleared her throat. “If you’re not mad at me, why can’t I still work with you?” She wiped at the corner of her eyes with her fingertips. “I know this was a big deal. But we can get other deals. We were starting to really get some traction at the sales conferences. If we work even harder—especially if we use some of the new stuff you developed—then I’m sure we can somehow turn it around….”

“Sophie, it’s over,” her mother said. “This was it. If we didn’t get the Marion account, then we were going to go under.”

“Things are tight, granted…”

“I took out a second mortgage on the house.”

Sophie goggled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You may be my business whiz kid, but there were some things I didn’t think you needed to know,” her mother said with a tone of injured dignity. “I didn’t want you to have the pressure of that, on top of everything else you were doing. Besides, you probably would’ve tried to stop me.”

“You’re damned right I would have!” Sophie said, aghast. “How are you going to carry those payments?”

Her mother made a small sweeping gesture with her hand. “I’ve been meaning to downsize anyway.”

“You mean…you’re losing your house?”

“I knew what I was getting into,” her mother replied. “Sophie, you have your own life and you made your own choices. I’m not putting the blame for this on you. I counted on this too much, I guess.”

It was impossible for Sophie to feel lower. She wanted to weep. “I didn’t know,” she said, seeing how her mother must have felt betrayed. The Marion account meant far more than Sophie had realized, and it had already meant a lot. Now, with the closing of Diva Nation, her mother’s retirement and now her home were disappearing. “This…Oh, God, Mom, this can’t happen.”

“What are you going to do?” her mother asked. “Sophie, it’s a lost cause.”

“You must hate me,” Sophie said.

“Let’s not get melodramatic. I’ve already told you how I feel,” her mother said briskly. “Now, I’m working on putting it behind me. I never should’ve put myself in the position where I could be screwed by Trimera again. I need to pick up the pieces and move on.”

“There’s got to be a way to undo this,” Sophie said, racking her brain.

“Sophie, knock it off.” Her mother stood up, shuffling in her slippers and pouring herself another cup of coffee. “I leaned too hard on my girls, that’s all.”

“I wanted to help you!” Sophie protested. “I wouldn’t have done all this if I didn’t!”

“You were in over your head,” her mother said. “Admit it, Sophie. You love me, but you didn’t fathom just how bad this would be. And as you said, you made your choices. I’m not saying that this guy is the devil. I’m saying—in the clutch, you chose him. Live with that.”

Sophie nodded, but her chest ached. She’d said as much to Mark—that she’d chosen him. She loved him; she craved him. But here, in the light of her mother’s kitchen, hearing about the consequences, she felt petty and selfish and wrong.

“I wish I could make this up to you,” Sophie said.