“I like them seeing me with you.” She exhaled and spread her hands wide on the glass, and locked her knees so the next thrust would go as deep as possible. “I think all the women looking are jealous of me.” We locked eyes in the glass and her mouth fell open, her lips red and wet and so inviting. “I think all the men watching want to fuck like you fuck.”
I groaned as I pushed up into her. At her words, yes, but mainly at the way she met every challenge I lay down for her. And upped the ante. I was used to dominating every woman I took to bed. But Sofia met my controlling, demanding requirements in a way that was never truly submissive.
And there was nothing sexier.
Yes, her body was all graceful curves and smooth flesh. She knew exactly when to push, bite, squeeze. But it was her attitude that made her entirely irresistible.
I pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades and slid my hand down, my fingers finding her clit swollen and needy.
“Andrew, you’re going to make me come.”
We both froze. She’d never used my name when we’d seen each other outside the office. It was the line that separated the day from the night. The office from the bedroom. The boss from the lover. But the construct had disintegrated. To pretend otherwise would just be fooling myself. And I never did that. Our game was over
I began to move again. Slowly. Deliberately.
“Say it again,” I whispered.
“Andrew,” she whispered back.
My cock ached with the need to feel her come.
“Again,” I said, thrusting up into her.
“Andrew.” She screamed this time, as if she couldn’t hold back. “Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.” She chanted as she bucked and writhed against her orgasm. Her unrestrained movements doubled in front of me—her and her reflection—sent me into sensory overload. I came and came and came, my orgasm leaving me weak and unable to feel my legs. I fell forward over her back, my hands over hers on the glass.
After a few steadying breaths, I stood and hoisted her over my shoulder. “Once more, and then we both need to sleep.”
Twenty-Five
Sofia
Adrenaline was an amazing thing.
From eight o’clock on, Andrew kept threatening to send me back to my room to sleep. He’d finally kicked me out at midnight. We’d agreed I wouldn’t see him again until after my meeting. I didn’t want any distractions.
Luckily, I slept like a baby—even if it was for only six hours—and woke with a fire in my belly that made me determined to nail this Verity deal to the wall. I was going to have Goode eating out of my hand. I’d make sure of it.
I got to the restaurant where we were meeting—some fancy steak place in Tribeca—and checked my phone.
When I woke up, I’d had one message from Andrew. It read, You know what to do. It was all I needed to hear.
Maybe some employees would have been pissed at a boss that dropped a message like that before the most important meeting they’d ever been to, but not me. I knew Andrew didn’t waste words. He meant what he said.
He believed in me.
I pulled open the door and took in the moss green walls, patterned mosaics on the floor, and the deco light fixtures. It was like a fancy Upper East Side townhouse. When I lived in New York, I could never have afforded to come to a place like this, and now, here I was, armed with a Blake Enterprises company credit card, ready to order the best wine on the menu.
The hostess showed me to my table and I took a seat facing the door. I knew what Bob looked like and I wanted a few seconds of advantage, knowing he was approaching.
I scanned the menu and made my choice. When I confessed to Andrew that I hadn’t got a clue about what wine to order, we brought up the wine list on the website and he made a couple of choices. I nearly died at how expensive they were, but he assured me getting this deal done was ninety-five percent confidence—and I needed to reflect that in my wine selection.
I saw Bob enter and faked a relaxed perusal of the menu as he approached. I was certain the entire restaurant must be able to hear my heart beating in my chest.
I stayed seated as Andrew had suggested and set down my menu as my guest arrived at the table. “Ms. Rossi. I’m delighted to meet you.” His eyes sparkled as he grinned at me and then took a seat. “Have you been here before?”
“I haven’t. I’m a native New Yorker but there are always more restaurants than time to visit them.”
“Well said. It’s the same in London. And you’re based there, despite hailing from this fine city. Is that correct?”