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Stryker's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 1) by Meg Ripley (33)


 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

I must have fallen asleep at some point; I woke up to the sound of meowing and the sliding glass door moving along its track. I turned over on the couch and nearly spilled off of it, opening my eyes just in time to catch sight of Sophie stepping through the open door and onto the patio, while Drogon darted out between her feet. Sophie must have heard me—or maybe seen me in the corner of her eye. She turned and smiled ruefully. “Sorry—I thought you were pretty deeply asleep,” she said.

“Don’t sweat it,” I told her, scrambling around onto my feet. I’d woken up at some point and gotten my jeans off—they were just too uncomfortable—and I probably should have felt weirder about standing around in my tee shirt and boxers, but considering that I could make out the outline of Sophie’s nipples against the flimsy fabric of her pajama top, and barely—barely—see the bottom curve of her ass where her shorts ended, I didn’t think I was overstepping any big boundaries.

I followed her out onto the patio, cigarette pack in hand, and slumped down into a chair. Drogon began scratching through his litter box and Sophie produced a fresh pack of cigarettes out of a pocket I hadn’t seen on her shorts. “So,” I said, lighting my own cig and taking a drag. “Why exactly did you let me stay the night?” Sophie shrugged.

“You walked me home and didn’t try to make a pass,” Sophie said.

“Was that some kind of test?” Sophie crinkled the foil and plastic from her pack of cigs into a little ball and stuffed it into the ashtray. She gave me that little smile again—that utterly confident, completely knowing smile that she’d flashed at the bar.

“Not a test,” Sophie said. “But it did say a lot about who you are as a person.” She tugged a cigarette free of the pack and brought it to her lips to light it; I tried not to stare, especially at the bead of sweat that began to roll down from her neck past her collarbones, or at the way that her arms pressed her tits together. I decided to look away altogether. “You know, Mark gave me his number last night,” Sophie said, blowing smoke away from her face.

“And you want to know if you should call him?” Tell her no. Tell her he’s a dog. The impulse jolted through my brain before I could stop it; but I managed to push it aside before I said anything.

“Mostly just interested in your reaction to it,” Sophie said, half-smiling again.

“Mark is into you,” I said with a shrug. “If you’re into him, you should call him.”

“That’s a very careful non-answer,” Sophie said tartly.

“He’s a drummer,” I explained.

“Go on,” Sophie said. I shrugged again.

“You were going on last night about how you don’t date guys in the scene because they want you to give them free drinks or whatever,” I pointed out. “Mark probably won’t ask you for free drinks, but you’d be breaking your self-imposed rule nonetheless.”

“You’re into me too,” Sophie said. I raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Dan—you wouldn’t have walked me home and talked to me half the night if you weren’t into me.”

“Maybe I’m just a good guy,” I countered.

“Maybe,” Sophie said. She licked her lips and took another drag of her cigarette. “But I’m still going to go with the theory of you liking me.” I pressed my lips together, resisting the urge to smile.

“And if I do? You don’t date local guys, remember?” Sophie held my gaze for a long moment and flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette.

“Maybe I’m not that much of an absolutist,” Sophie said. She stubbed out her cigarette. “Maybe I’m open to changing my mind on that score.” She stood up and I caught the barest flash of her tit as her top shifted. It sent a jolt of heat through me, straight to my cock. Then, she turned around and went into the apartment, and I saw the bottom curve of her ass cheeks.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had stood, and I followed her into the apartment. Sophie turned on her heel, only a few feet away from the kitchen, and my hands were already out. I reached for her shoulders, for her arms, and pulled her towards me. Acting completely on impulse, I ducked down and kissed her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing her body against mine. Sophie tensed against me and then relaxed, and I heard her let out just the faintest moan.

I broke away from her lips and looked down into her eyes. “Not an absolutist?” Sophie’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and I knew—I knew in my bones—that she was turned on.

“Maybe not,” Sophie said breathlessly. She licked her lips and I smiled slowly. “But I am not going to have sex with you right now.”

“You’re not?” Sophie shook her head, slipping free of my arms. “Why not?”

“One—I need to run some errands before I’m due at Respects,” she said. “Two: I never put out before at least one date.” She stepped into the kitchen and started making coffee while I watched.

I went back to the couch, trying to decide how to move forward; Sophie was obviously attracted to me, but after Benny’s remarks the night before I didn’t want to push her—especially since Mark had given her his number. Either she’s into him or not, I told myself. And if she isn’t, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with going after her myself. “So, since you need to go on a date with me, why don’t we check out the Norton next week?”

Sophie emerged from the kitchen with two cups of coffee. “The Norton is free for the next year and a half—that’s not a date,” she said.

“It is if we go out to dinner before or after,” I pointed out. Sophie handed me one of the cups and I drank down a gulp, keeping my gaze on her.

“Deal,” she said, smiling.

 

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