So attentive, Ethan. She gave him a small smile. “I prefer the port.”
“Tell me about the dream.” He handed her the crystal glass and sat beside her, an arm on her shoulder, pulling her to him.
She sipped her wine. “It wasn’t a dream.” She shook her head. “And I don’t talk about it.”
“How were you shot?” He tried again.
“Ethan, please, let it be. It’s a very sore issue.” For the first time, she looked around; taking in the stylish sitting room with its paintings and books gracing the walls.
She put her glass on the side table and rose from the sofa to examine the bookshelves. “We really do have similar tastes,” she smiled at him over her shoulder.
He finished his wine and approached her from behind and spoke in her ear. “I knew you were perfect for me from the minute I spotted you.” He bit her earlobe, his hand lifting the hem of the shirt to find her hip, stroking it. “Come to bed. I’ll make you forget your dream.”
Chapter 5
Saturday, January 16th, 2010.
10 a.m.
Sophia opened her eyes to find Ethan seated on the edge of the bed looking at her, a mug in his hand, his hair damp from the shower, dressed in faded jeans and a blue turtleneck sweater that did wonders to his eyes.
“I could go for hours just looking at you.”
She stretched, raising her arms above her head and entwining them; the sheets moved, showing a breast. “Good morning,” she smiled at him.
Ethan put his mug on the bedside table. “Do that again and you’re not getting out of this bed, Ms. Santo.”
Sophia grinned wickedly and stretched again, this time writhing her body, sheets bunching at her waist.
“Vixen.” Ethan bent to kiss her but she rolled to the other side of the bed and jumped to the bathroom.
“Don’t move,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.”
When she emerged from the bathroom, he was in the same place, an amused twist on his lips.
“Good boy.” She smiled and picked up his mug, smelling it. “Mmm!” She raised her brows to him and drank his coffee. He smiled at her impudent gesture. She tugged him from the bed by the sweater. “Take it off,” she commanded.
“You like to give orders, huh?”
“Sometimes,” she smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know how to obey?”
“Sometimes,” he replied and took off his sweater.
“Let’s see.” She perched on the end of the bed, tapping her index finger on her lips, admiring his muscles as he moved.
“Now what, Ms. Santo?”
She could see a bulge in his jeans, her lips twisted and curled unbidden. “Jeans. Off.”
He peeled off his jeans, amused, and threw them on the armchair.
“Briefs. Off!” Her eyes gleamed and she bit her lip.
He took off his briefs and stood proudly in front of her. He knew he had a great figure.
Sophia motioned, with her finger, for him to make a complete turn.
“Do you approve?” he asked huskily.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Ashford, I do!” she nodded.
Jesus! The woman is hot.
Sophia rose from the bed and circled him, her fingers tracing his chest and his shoulder; she ran her hands over his arms and his buttocks, without touching his straining erection.
“A fine specimen, Mr. Ashford.” She pinched his chin lowering his head a bit, to better look at his azure eyes. He hadn’t touched her and she was already turned on. “A very fine specimen,” she murmured.
He let out a laugh. “I will tell my personal trainer that I made the grade.” He grabbed both of her wrists in his grip behind her back and pulled her flush onto his body.
“I wasn’t finished, Mr. Ashford,” she frowned at him.
“Seems I’m not that good at following orders, Ms. Santo.”
She smiled at the admission. “Ethan. I never thought you would be.” And pressed tighter to him, parting her lips.
They met halfway and he savaged her mouth, leaving Sophia with no ability to think. She barely noticed when he released her wrists and picked her up by the waist, lifting her higher on his body to deepen the kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist involuntary and she put her hands on his shoulders for support.
“Sophia,” her name on his lips like a prayer. He impaled her on his erection and a low cry left Sophia’s mouth. “You feel so good,” he murmured and backed her on the wall, moving slowly, rocking in her. He kissed her neck and her shoulder.
Her hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head in an aggressive kiss, notching their passions higher. He shifted his hold on her thighs and his hand dipped between them, searching for her clitoris.
He tore his mouth from hers and ordered in his low baritone voice, “Come for me.” His blue eyes flamed with desire. She met his gaze for a split second before he took her mouth once more in a hungry kiss. He withdrew almost totally from her body and slammed back into her hard and deep, fingering her at the same time. She moaned in his mouth and he felt her body tense up. He pounded into her again and again.
She came apart in his arms. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have dropped to the ground. In one more hard thrust, he shouted her name and spilled inside her, his forehead falling to her shoulder.
They stayed pressed onto the wall, heaving. Then, all of a sudden, he stiffened and slowly raised his head from her shoulder, staring intently at her.
“What?” Sophia breathed, her head on the curve of his neck.
“The condom. I forgot.” He scanned her eyes. “You’re on the pill, I take…”
“Hmm? Pill? No,” she murmured the words, still dazed.
His eyes widened. “JESUS!” he shouted, alarmed. “Plan B. Now.”
“Plan B?” She frowned, puzzled. What the hell is his plan b?
“Morning-after pill.” He withdrew from her and slid her down his body until her feet were touching the floor. “The sooner you take it, the better.”
Oh! Pregnancy… “Relax,” she assured him, smiling. “No chances of pregnancy. I’m not on the pill but I have an IUD.”
“An IUD?” He curled his fingers under her chin.
“Laser hair removal and IUDs with hormones are a woman’s best friends,” she smiled at him, admiring his wondrous azure eyes.
He chuckled, “And here I thought they were diamonds.”
“Well, those too.” Her laugh tinkled in the room. “I’m taking a shower. Then I have to go home.”
“Sophia,” he raked his hand through his hair, “what about… When was the last time you were tested?”
“Tested?” she frowned, stopping on the threshold of the bathroom and looking over her shoulder.
Jesus! Are you that stupid, Ashford? “STD, HIV, you know.”
“I’m clean, don’t you worry.” Her frown increased, a line appearing between her elegant, black brows. “And you?”
“Fair question.” He stepped toward her and embraced her. “Last October. Last time I changed partners.” He nuzzled her neck. “I wish you could stay with me today.” He kissed her lips, tenderly. “You’re a hell of a woman, Ms. Santo,” he murmured on her lips and released her. “Go have your shower. You can use the white bathrobe. I’ve ordered some perfume and toiletries from Creed for you.”
She stood there frozen.
“What?” he murmured on her lips and kissed her again.
“How did you know I use Creed?” she whispered.
“I just know,” he answered with a mysterious smile on his lips.
11.25 a.m.
“Your clothes have arrived,” he informed from outside of the bathroom. “Come to the sitting room. I ordered breakfast. I’m dying to see if you like my choices.”
Hastily, Sophia dried herself and wrapped an enormous, fluffy towel turban style over her long hair. She donned the white bathrobe hanged behind the door.
“Oh. My. God!” She halted at the entrance of the sitting room. She looked around, baffled. He sat on the sofa, in front of the center table, laden with food.
He shrugged, carelessly. “I knew you liked fruit, bread, and cheese, so I ordered a selection from Marylebone Market. It’s just arrived.”
“Thank you, but it wasn’t the food that surprised me.” She shook her head and stared bewildered at the bags covering the floor. “You were quite extravagant on your shopping order to your secretary. I just needed a pair of jeans and a sweater.”
He rose from the sofa and putting his hands on her waist, regarded her intently. “Sophia, it is a pleasure to lavish you with gifts. I can and I will. Don’t expect less.” He picked up a half-dozen bags in each hand and brought them over to the sofa. “Sit and eat. I’ll unpack them for you.”
Sophia stood still in the same place, looking at him. He crooked his finger and ordered again, “Sit here by my side. Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, thanks.” She chose a rye, raisin, and caraway bread slice and accepted the steaming mug. “What am I supposed to do with all these things?”
“Take what you want and leave the rest here.” He opened bag after bag and unwrapped tissue after tissue. Clothes began to pile up over the sofa and the armchairs: A dark red-and-brown wool jacket with chocolate trousers, a white silk vest with lace trim, and dark-red alligator leather high heels from Chanel; a cinnamon-color sweater from Prada; a caramel corset belt and a khaki knit dress from Alexander McQueen; an oversized orange merino-wool turtleneck, skinny light jeans, a brown belt and platform boots with knit cuffs from Gucci; a Hermès Kelly bag; a long caramel fox fur Fendi coat; a knitted plum top and a caramel high heel bootie with lamb fur lining from Nina Ricci; caramel deer gloves and chocolate felt hat from Celine; shawls and a pair of silver-metal sunglasses from Louis Vuitton.
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