Sophie looks like she wants to mull over what Claudia said. There goes my plan to ease her into the idea of us slowly, hoping she’d be open to the idea if I gave her all the good reasons.
I pull her away from the gala into a private hallway far away from anyone potentially finding us. It’s dark and empty. Perfect because I don’t need any more exes of races past ruining any chance we have at something good.
“I’m sorry about that. She won’t leave me alone. I blocked her so she’d stop texting me every week, sometimes with photos or messages. Peter finally let up on the issue, so I don’t want to cause drama by bringing her up again.”
“Mm.” Sophie’s dazed eyes look off into the distance.
“Are you upset about what she said?”
“No, don’t be silly. She’s just plain rude. Do you really need so many ex-girlfriends? What were you creating, your own army?” The old Sophie comes back to the surface.
I let out a breath I didn’t notice I was holding in, relieved when her eyes land on my face. “I thought about it, but I didn’t like how much upkeep they needed.”
She laughs at my poor joke.
My shitty history makes another comeback. I don’t want it around, fucking up my chances with Sophie. Before I can stop myself, I brush my knuckles up against her cheek, her smooth skin running against the bones of my hand. I enjoy the feel of her. The way my body begs for more contact, or the feeling of electricity running through me when she gives me all her attention.
I’m a fucked-up guy, giving into our attraction while screwing over my plan to remain sexless and drama-free for the season.
Sophie takes a deep breath, holding it in as she looks at me with big eyes. I do things without thinking because my plan has already gone to shit. Since I’ve lived my whole life like that, why stop now? Fuck it.
One of my arms loops around her body while the other grips her chin, holding her where I want her. My lips find hers as her body loosens in my arms. I forgot how much I loved the feel of her lips against mine, the sweet taste of her invading my mouth.
Our kiss feels sweet at first, with her soft lips pressing against mine. I crave more from her. Something inside of me wants her to be as desperate for me as I am for her. My body buzzes as her fingers clasp together around my neck and her lips part, giving me access to her mouth.
Screw platonic, I want catastrophic. I stroke her tongue with mine, the taste of champagne flooding my mouth. Kissing her is addictive as hell. It’s like chasing an adrenaline high for hours.
My hands follow the curve of her back, testing the limits she’ll allow, finding the tight globes of her ass and giving them a squeeze. Her body is fucking fantastic. I feel her gasp straight to my dick, stiff and ready for her, wondering about the hold-up. A four-month prohibition makes me needy.
Our tongues mingle and the taste of her overrides my ability to think. The connection is mind-numbing perfection, making my brain muddled as we devour each other.
Kissing her is the best fucking thing, like all feels right in the world. Her tongue, first tentative, now teases mine. Sweet Sophie is replaced by the seductress inside of her. My fallen angel, tempted away from the gates of heaven to join me in the pits of hell. Her teeth grip onto my lower lip, pulling and sucking, taking control of our kiss. Fuck, it makes my body hum with encouragement while my dick throbs in my pants.
Her hands run down the front of my tux, groping me without a single fuck given. I roll my erection into her because I long to hear the noises she makes. Fuck, I crave to thrust inside of her. To pull all types of moans and groans from her as I bring her toward ecstasy.
When I push my dick toward her, her body tenses, probably realizing where we are, who we are, and what we’re doing. The switch flips and the old Sophie comes back. She lightly presses against my chest, and I sigh as I pull my lips apart from hers.
The last thing I want is for her to shy away in fear and stop us before we have a chance. She’s the best kiss I’ve ever had, and I need to see where this goes.
People tend to manage others like glass. With caution, in fear of breaking the person and shattering their heart. But with Sophie, I handle that shit like a bomb, as if she can explode any second. She’s a ticking clock with a fuck ton of complicated wires. Once detonated, shrapnel and crap flies everywhere, piercing you from all directions, fucking you up from the inside out. Both explosive and disastrous.
I come up with ideas faster than my brain can process them, creating a plan to compete with Sophie’s. “Let’s be friends with benefits?”
Yup. That’s my genius idea. All five words of it.
