Suddenly uncomfortable, he put his utensils down. He had finished his steak anyway, and wasn’t interested in the salad. “More wine?”
“Sure.” She smiled. “It’s my birthday. I’ll splurge.”
He poured her another glass. “You should splurge every day. Life’s short.”
“That it is.” She sighed, then took a long swallow of her wine. “This is a perfect birthday dinner. Thank you.”
She leaned over, her mouth about to brush his cheek. Keep it platonic, he thought, just like with the earlier birthday kiss. He’d told her he’d let her decide.
But he couldn’t resist. He turned and their lips met.
Instead of pulling away, she pressed closer, her flesh soft and sweet. He ran his tongue over her lips, tasting the glorious wine and even more glorious flavor of her.
His heart pounded. He deepened the kiss, and she devoured him back, her mouth turning aggressive on his.
Blood throbbed, a sharp need gripping his entire body. Jesus. He needed to rein in the situation before things got out of hand.
“Sophia. Don’t do this if you’re going to regret it tomorrow,” he whispered against her cheek.
She pulled back, her eyes searching his. “Are you going to regret it?”
There were so many reasons why he should. She was his employee, and he never, ever crossed that line. In addition, she was in a vulnerable situation—poor, homeless…no friends she could turn to. Unlike the other women he’d fucked and dumped, Sophia didn’t understand his MO. If he took her again, he’d be responsible for her in ways that he’d never been for anyone else before.
The last thought should’ve killed his libido. The idea of signaling anything even remotely serious and long-term had always made him cut a relationship short. But none of the other women had been Sophia.
“No,” he said.
“Then I won’t regret it either.”
“Thank god you aren’t sensible,” he muttered before reclaiming her luscious lips.
He devoured them, hungry for every inch, all the texture, every taste. Sharp need streaked through him. His senses hyper-focused on her reactions. Her hands clutched him, almost clumsy with desperation.
Their mouths still fused, he stood, drawing her up with him, and cupped her ass. She wrapped her strong skater’s legs around his waist, and he could feel the damp heat through their clothes. Desire pounded through him, and it was all he could do to not rip their clothes off, shove her up against the wall and have her right there.
He carried her, every step making his cock rub against her folds. Her chest vibrated with a suppressed moan. Heat flushed her cheeks and neck, and her eyes sparkled with excitement and need.
He paused at the stairs. He’d never taken a woman into his bedroom—that was what the guest suite was for. But he didn’t want her where all the other women had been.
He went into the master suite. The dim lights came on at their entrance, and Sophia reached for his shirt buttons.
“Patience,” he muttered.
“I’ve waited long enough.”
“It hasn’t even been half an hour.”
“Wrong. It’s been weeks.” She scraped her teeth over his earlobe. “I made myself come with my fingers after the charity function,” she whispered, lips next to his ear. “But it was nowhere near enough.”
Fuck. The image of her, naked and writhing while masturbating to him was nearly his undoing. What a waste. She should’ve called him. They would’ve had a much more satisfying time together.
He reined himself in. He’d never lost control over a woman, and he didn’t plan to start now, especially not with Sophia. Women were all the same once he’d had them undressed and on their knees with their mouths wrapped around his dick. But somehow Sophia was different. She was the first one to make him want more than easy, uncomplicated sex.
Deliberately, he undid the buttons on her top and let it drop to the floor with a whisper. The skirt was next. She stood before him, so delicious and ready, with nothing but a lacy pink bra and matching panties. Small tremors went through every creamy dip and mound. She was softer and fuller than three years ago, her body ripe.
Unhooking her bra, he kissed her shoulder. Despite her strong muscles and athletic achievements, everything about her was fine and delicate. Her injuries spoke volumes about how fragile she could be.
His lips trailed down her body, his tongue flickering over a pebbled nipple. He pulled down her panties, then pressed his mouth against her hip.
She dug her hands into his hair. “Are you kissing all my owies?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He looked into her eyes. “I don’t think anybody has, and every owie deserves a kiss.”