time.”
“This is my next time.” He smelled her hair. The fruity scent relaxed his entire body, and suddenly his bed was the most comfortable it had ever been. He never wanted to leave.
“So whatever happened to Felicia?”
He laughed to himself. Women were so territorial. Also, it was a bit of a weird time to be talking about ex-lovers. Sophie was surprising—hopefully that would never change.
“I’ve not spoken to her since she called off the wedding.” He unlaced his fingers with hers, reached for a lighter on his nightstand, and lit the candle by his bedside. He wanted to see her better. “Isn’t this the point I get to ask you questions again?”
“Go for it.” She nestled back into him, pressing her skin against his side.
“How do you write a song?”
“It starts with an idea or a line or a melody. It just sort of happens. I mean, I have to make it happen. But once I get into the groove, lyrics or music usually flow.”
“I thought it’d be more scientific.”
“Like a recipe?”
“Yep.”
“It’s more about heart. Feeling.”
She ran her fingertips up his arm and over his jawline. His skin started to tingle; Sophie created a want like nothing he’d ever felt before.
“What inspired your new song?” He was fishing and it was pathetic, but he had to know.
Can I be your muse?
She shifted and looked past him to the flame. “Candlelight.”
He stared at the flickering flame, too.
Makes sense.
The fire
was
sensual. He could see that. He’d be happier, though, if she’s said him or them. Was what they were experiencing even real, and did she feel it, too? Sophie equaled complication—adding her to his life on a full-time basis would take away time from the restaurant, from his dream. Yep, Sophie was a concern.
He swiveled his head back to Sophie, and her beautiful brown eyes searched his. He leaned in, eyes open, and kissed her. For a moment, she didn’t close her eyes, and it was the sexiest act. Then her bright eyes slowly drifted closed at his full embrace; he watched the need flow through her skin and felt it in his lips. She rolled flush onto his body and, with a visceral need deep in his core, he gave in and closed his eyes, breathing her in.
She spread her legs over his lower abdomen. She cupped his neck and jaw as he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs. He could feel her all over; the sensation of her skin covering his was intoxicating.
Her hand slid down his stomach, and his breath caught as she wrapped her hands around him, guiding him into her. Slowly, she moved, pulling up the length of him before sweetly, slowly, sliding back down. His mind kicked into overdrive with a vengeance—how good she felt, the thrill of each second, the ways in which he needed her.
Sophie was sex on a stick, and he was lucky enough to be the stick. She moved her lips down his neck and licked the line of his collarbone.
She was testing his patience—toying with him—and it was making him harder than ever. Like a miracle, Sophie moved faster, and he leaned up to be closer, to consume her.
She sat up and rocked her hips on his, driving him deeper. The light from the candle danced around the room and shadowed her breasts and torso. He moved his palms tenderly up her tummy; cupping her breasts in his hands, he rose up to run his tongue along her nipple before taking it in his mouth.
Tonight, he had Sophie, and she had him. He was going to make sure it was the best night of their lives.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophie closed her apartment door the next morning, pushing away the hope of bumping into Marc. Their night had been fantastic. Hell, the best she’d ever had. They’d agreed no strings, and she was perfectly willing to adhere to the pact. But something as titillating as they’d shared shouldn’t be experienced for only one night.
As their night in each other’s arms progressed, the feelings intensified. Their connection became more than the need for sexual satisfaction. She
“This is my next time.” He smelled her hair. The fruity scent relaxed his entire body, and suddenly his bed was the most comfortable it had ever been. He never wanted to leave.
“So whatever happened to Felicia?”
He laughed to himself. Women were so territorial. Also, it was a bit of a weird time to be talking about ex-lovers. Sophie was surprising—hopefully that would never change.
“I’ve not spoken to her since she called off the wedding.” He unlaced his fingers with hers, reached for a lighter on his nightstand, and lit the candle by his bedside. He wanted to see her better. “Isn’t this the point I get to ask you questions again?”
“Go for it.” She nestled back into him, pressing her skin against his side.
“How do you write a song?”
“It starts with an idea or a line or a melody. It just sort of happens. I mean, I have to make it happen. But once I get into the groove, lyrics or music usually flow.”
“I thought it’d be more scientific.”
“Like a recipe?”
“Yep.”
“It’s more about heart. Feeling.”
She ran her fingertips up his arm and over his jawline. His skin started to tingle; Sophie created a want like nothing he’d ever felt before.
“What inspired your new song?” He was fishing and it was pathetic, but he had to know.
Can I be your muse?
She shifted and looked past him to the flame. “Candlelight.”
He stared at the flickering flame, too.
Makes sense.
The fire
was
sensual. He could see that. He’d be happier, though, if she’s said him or them. Was what they were experiencing even real, and did she feel it, too? Sophie equaled complication—adding her to his life on a full-time basis would take away time from the restaurant, from his dream. Yep, Sophie was a concern.
He swiveled his head back to Sophie, and her beautiful brown eyes searched his. He leaned in, eyes open, and kissed her. For a moment, she didn’t close her eyes, and it was the sexiest act. Then her bright eyes slowly drifted closed at his full embrace; he watched the need flow through her skin and felt it in his lips. She rolled flush onto his body and, with a visceral need deep in his core, he gave in and closed his eyes, breathing her in.
She spread her legs over his lower abdomen. She cupped his neck and jaw as he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs. He could feel her all over; the sensation of her skin covering his was intoxicating.
Her hand slid down his stomach, and his breath caught as she wrapped her hands around him, guiding him into her. Slowly, she moved, pulling up the length of him before sweetly, slowly, sliding back down. His mind kicked into overdrive with a vengeance—how good she felt, the thrill of each second, the ways in which he needed her.
Sophie was sex on a stick, and he was lucky enough to be the stick. She moved her lips down his neck and licked the line of his collarbone.
She was testing his patience—toying with him—and it was making him harder than ever. Like a miracle, Sophie moved faster, and he leaned up to be closer, to consume her.
She sat up and rocked her hips on his, driving him deeper. The light from the candle danced around the room and shadowed her breasts and torso. He moved his palms tenderly up her tummy; cupping her breasts in his hands, he rose up to run his tongue along her nipple before taking it in his mouth.
Tonight, he had Sophie, and she had him. He was going to make sure it was the best night of their lives.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophie closed her apartment door the next morning, pushing away the hope of bumping into Marc. Their night had been fantastic. Hell, the best she’d ever had. They’d agreed no strings, and she was perfectly willing to adhere to the pact. But something as titillating as they’d shared shouldn’t be experienced for only one night.
As their night in each other’s arms progressed, the feelings intensified. Their connection became more than the need for sexual satisfaction. She
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