Sophie

It was like he’d read my mind. “Me, too.”

“I’ll go first,” Dex said. “I’ll make one more circuit of the room. Wait for my signal.”

“Okay.”

Then he was gone, slipping silently out the door. Someone making a speech in the main room said a joke, and I heard ripples of laughter.

I fixed my lip gloss and my hair, waiting for the just-fucked flush to leave my cheeks. Was it gone? Dex probably looked as just-fucked as I did—but then again, that was his usual look.

“There you are,” my mother said when I rejoined her and Jim in the main room. “You missed the demonstration.”

“Where’s Dex?” Jim asked, keeping his voice low so he wasn’t distracting from the speaker.

“I don’t know,” I said. I looked around. “I, um, saw him a minute ago. He’s here somewhere.”

“Are you all right?” My mother was looking at me closely. “You look feverish.”

“Sure, I’m fine.”

I was relieved when she turned back to look at the stage. I was having a weird reaction, an aftershock. I was standing next to my mother after spending ten minutes being bent over in the bathroom by my world famous stepbrother. Even though I’d cleaned up, there was a trickle of damp between my legs. Who the hell was I? I’d spent four years with a normal—and virginal—life despite Dex’s celebrity. In the space of a week, that had all gone out the window, and I couldn’t even pretend I was sorry. I’d participated—I’d practically just seduced him. I felt alive, as if there were electric sparks traveling along my skin.

Where was he? I was impatient. Maybe I’d get out of here and wait outside. I tapped my mother’s arm. “You know, I think you’re right. I don’t feel really well. I’m going to start back to the hotel.”

She turned to me and placed a cool hand on my cheek. “Goodness,” she said. “Are you coming down with something?”

“I don’t think so. But I flew in this morning, so I’m just tired.”

“It’s a long trip,” my mother agreed. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“No, I’m fine, I—”

“I’ll go with her.” Dex was at my shoulder. He put a hand lightly at the small of my back. “I was leaving anyway.”

Jim, who had been watching the launch, turned and looked at him, frowning. “Did you see Alan?” Alan was Jim’s boss, who he was especially trying to impress.

“Just now,” Dex said.

Jim nodded. “Call me tomorrow.”

We said goodnight and walked across the back of the room toward the exit. Heads turned and followed us. I found it disconcerting, but Dex didn’t seem to notice. He kept his hand on my lower back as he walked close to me, his body in sync with mine.

He’d called for his hired car already, and it was pulled up in front of the building. In the back seat, he closed the window that sealed us off from the driver and flung himself down in the seat, letting out a breath. He hadn’t wanted to be here at all, I realized. Not from the first minute.

I leaned into him without thinking. “You should have said no if you didn’t want to come,” I said.

“I can’t do that.” He rubbed a hand tiredly over his forehead. He would never say no when his father asked something of him, I knew that. I leaned closer in to him, dropping a hand to his leg. I was immediately glad I did it, because I could feel the ridge of muscle on his thigh. We sat for a moment, enjoying the silence, and I felt some of the tension drain out of him.

“I’ve never done that before,” he said.

I smiled a little. “Done what?” I asked, rubbing my palm on his leg. “Have sex with a girl at one of your father’s work parties?”

“Never,” he said. “Not at any function.”

I looked at him. “So I’m your first?”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “I don’t know what came over me.” He looked out the window at the city passing by. “You want to know something funny? My agent fired me today.”

I went still. “What? Eric?”

He nodded. “Ditched me. I got an official letter, delivered to my hotel room about two hours ago. Henceforth our firm declines to represent you, et cetera. So that’s that.”

My mouth was open in shock. “Why?”

Dex shrugged. “I’m not good business for them anymore.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said. “You’ve made them millions.”

“I’m not surprised.” Something dark flashed across his expression, then was gone again. “It put me in a mood, I guess. I need to shake out of it.”

I was suddenly very happy I’d come to New York. “We’re going back to the hotel. Maybe we can think of something.”

“That would be nice.” He leaned over and kissed my earlobe, breathing me in. I tilted my head to give him better access, and he kissed me again. “Move your hand higher,” he said in my ear.

This was the Dex that made me giddy, the Dex that made me do things I never thought I’d do. This was the Dex I liked best, when he was relaxed and flirtatious and I had him all to myself. I’d last seen this Dex when we were curled up on the sofa back in California a week ago. I could get drunk on this private side of him, the one he showed no one but me. “I’ll think about it,” I said, sliding a fingertip down the line of his neck.

“Sophie.”

“Try a little seduction this time,” I teased. “I’m not that easy.”

“Seduction? Shit.” He paused and said, “How about this?” Then he whispered a string of Italian into my ear.

The sound of it made me want to jump on him and rip his clothes off, but I refrained. “What does that mean?” I asked.

He pulled away. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“It means, Please, where is the nearest pharmacy? I have a headache and require assistance.”

I was still laughing when he leaned over again and said more, low and sexy, making my laugh turn into a moan. “Okay,” I said, my voice shaky now. “What did that mean?”

“I would like to order the mushroom soup,” Dex said. “Make it extra hot. I am in possession of twelve dollars.”

Then we were both laughing, and then he was kissing me, and I was tasting his tongue. His hands slid under my dress and gripped my hips, possessive, as he kissed me until I was breathless. When the car stopped because we were finally, finally at the hotel, I was crazy for him again.

We each had a room here—mine was one of the regular rooms, which my mother had insisted on paying for. Dex’s was a penthouse suite, of course, on the top floor. It was huge and absolutely gorgeous, but we never even looked at it, because by the time we got through the door we were kissing again. I tugged his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt. He reached behind me and unzipped my dress. I shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor.

He looked me over in the dim light, his gaze dark with approval. “Oh, that’s nice.”

I stepped forward, wearing only my panties and heels, and pulled at his shirt. When I watched it drop from his shoulders, revealing the swirls of ink on his arms, I knew what I wanted to do. I unbuttoned his pants as I kissed my way down his muscled chest and got to my knees.

He groaned as he watched me. “Sophie, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” I said. I tugged his pants and boxer briefs down, pulled out his cock, and licked the head. I put the tip in my mouth, experimenting with the feel and the taste. Then I took it deeper. And deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” he said softly.

I’d never done this before. I knew women liked to do it, but in my imaginings, it seemed—messy? Awkward? It was nothing like that. Not with Dex. He was warm and hard as steel in my mouth, his taste intimate. I could hear the rasp of his breathing. I explored him at first, swirling my tongue over him inside my mouth, listening to his breath hitch in reaction. His body was tense beneath my hands, and I knew he could exquisitely feel everything I was doing. I ran my hand over him, then my mouth again.

He put his hand on my head, and I stopped playing and started a slow, easy rhythm, relaxing my jaw and getting used to him. He swore softly, letting me set the pace, letting me get comfortable. Then he gave me gentle suggestions, with his hips and his fingers tangled in my hair, of how I could take him deeper.

I loved it. It was making me wet to do this—I was throbbing hard between my legs. I wanted more. I wanted him to come. I wondered what that would feel like, what it would taste like. But after a few minutes he pulled out of me, tilting my head back.

I licked my lips. “Am I doing it right?”

He looked down at me, his fingertips pressed into my jaw. All of the humor had left his face. “Did you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He ran his thumb over my lower lip. “It fucking looked like it,” he said. “It fucking felt like it. Get on the bed.”

I got up and got on the bed. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my panties as he shed the rest of his clothes. And then he was naked on the bed with me, every glorious muscled inch of him, crawling over me and pinning me down.

He started at my breasts, running his lips and his tongue over my nipples, and then he made his way down my body. He spread my legs, rubbed his hands over my inner thighs as he kissed and licked, sliding his thumb over my clit. My body was boneless beneath him, my mind filled with nothing but him, with the need for his hands on me. He ran his tongue down the skin below my belly button, down in a straight line. Then he spread me wide with his fingers and licked me.

I moaned and tangled my fingers in his dark hair. He swirled me with his hot, flat tongue, over and over, as his fingers played with me. I angled my hips so he could have better access. I was getting used to this. I could get used to this every day.

My orgasm was slower this time, pulsing through my limbs, rolling through my body in waves. I gasped and let it come, unashamed that he was watching me, listening to the sounds I made. As I was still coming down, Dex reached up next to my head, grabbed a pillow, and propped it beneath my hips. His eyes were dark, impatient, his hair tousled from my fingers. He positioned himself over me, propped on his straight arms, and looked down at me as he slid his cock into me.

I gasped. It felt different from this angle—deeper, more intimate. I could feel him all the way inside me, hitting places he’d never hit before. The sensation balanced on the edge of pain, and I took a deep breath as he thrust into me again, slow and easy.

He was watching me. “Sophie,” he said.

“Don’t stop.” I put my hands on his arms, feeling the tensed muscles, running my fingertips over his ink. When he rocked into me my whole body moved on the bed, making my breasts bounce. It was a complete sensation, a feeling of complete possession, and I craved it—even the almost-pain. I looked up to find his blue gaze fixed on me, unwavering. There was a bead of sweat on his temple. He was holding himself back.

I wanted all of him, unrestrained. I wrapped my legs around him, crossing my ankles over his back, taking him even deeper. My own pleasure was building. “Faster,” I said.

He cursed and thrust into me again, and I watched him give in to it, begin to lose control. The mattress squeaked as he pounded into me. I dug my fingers into his biceps and kept my legs locked around him, our bodies fused together perfectly, pleasure arcing and twisting between us. He closed his eyes and dropped his head and his body moved in a perfect line, his hips flexing. I locked my ankles and pressed my knees apart. It ached and throbbed and I loved it and I never, ever wanted him to stop.

He came, his breath exhaling, his body going still as the pleasure pulsed through him. It was an intensely beautiful sight, and I devoured it. My legs were shaking, my own release about to crash over me. Part of me couldn’t believe I had this perfect animal between my legs, that I had given him so much pleasure. And at the same time a voice in my head said, How long? How long before he isn’t mine anymore?

Then my own orgasm overcame me, and I stopped thinking about anything anymore.