Stolen By The Boss

Sophia enters the house when we get home, and I instruct her to pack her things. We’ll be leaving the island first thing in the morning.

I square things with Ines, and the crew working on the house, and once everyone has settled in for the night, I go in search of my wife.

I knock on her door. “Sophia, you in here?”

She cracks the door open, wearing nothing but little boy shorts and a tiny white tank. “Yes, are we sleeping here or in your room?”

I push the door open further. “Where do you think?” I pick her up, carrying her bride-style to my master suite on the other side of the hallway.

I open the doors and deposit Sophia on the bed.

She glances around, taking in my bedroom. It’s much different from hers. I didn’t care about furnishings when Marge purchased the home. I told her to decorate it, and she went crazy with the gold and ornate décor in Sophia’s room.

Mine is simple. King-sized bed, gray sheets and comforter. Black and white paintings on the wall. Silver lamps and reclaimed wood dressers around the room.

“This is really… you,” Sophia says, getting under the plush comforter.

I step closer, turning out the lights, removing my shirt and jeans, and slide into the other side of the bed. “I want you to not be afraid of me if I put an arm around your waist. Or worse, I don’t want you to punch me.”

Sophia giggles and the sound is comforting in the room’s darkness. “I won’t punch you.”

I reach out and trace a finger from her temple to her chin. “You sure?”

Her breath hitches and she looks at me with round eyes. “I promise.”

It turns me on. My body hardens and I do the movement again. This time I don’t stop at her chin, and continue down to her collarbone.

She stretches her neck, letting me feel every bit of her. “Dean,” she moans out.

“Promise you won’t hit me if I touch you here?” I take my finger, marking a path over her shoulder and down her arm.

“That tickles,” she whispers.

I reach over her, tracing my finger around the opposite shoulder and down her other arm. This action makes her turn toward me. I can barely make out the lines of her face in the dark. Moonlight streams into the room, but she’s hidden in shadows, so I lean a little closer to see her better.

She reaches out her hand, mimicking my actions with her own finger, tracing down my jaw. She doesn’t say a word, and I let her soft skin touch me.

I’m so turned on right now it’s not even funny, but I don’t continue this any further. We’re here to play a part, and that’s exactly what we’ll do.

I breathe her in, kissing the tip of her nose. “Goodnight, Sophia.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

We touch land in New York earlier than expected. We travel to my luxury condo on the Upper East Side. It’s late by the time we arrive, and I give Sophia a quick grand tour. We move through the living room full of black, sleek furniture with paintings scattered on the walls. Splashes of color match in each painting, supposedly creating a relaxing ambience. Why am I not relaxed?

“My bedroom. Your bedroom. Bathroom. Towels in here.” I open the door to the hall closet.

“Oh, what a nice tour. Can we slow down so I can actually look at where I’ll be living?” She smiles with a bit of sass.

“Have at it.” I swing my arm to the side, letting her walk past me to check out my place at her leisure.

It’s big.

Floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room show off a grand view of the city. We’re so high up that the lights barely phase us, but it casts a soft glow through the room, making it feel almost romantic.

“I love it here,” she says with a smile turning around in her heels to look everywhere.

For some reason, this makes me proud she likes it. All the countless phone calls and emails full of inspirational pictures from the annoying decorator when I purchased the place are now worth it when I get that approving smile from Sophia.

“Thanks.” I hop into action, grabbing two towels for her to use. “You can shower and then if you need anything.”

She takes the plush towels from my hands. “I’ll be fine.”

I walk past her in the hallway, heading to my master suite, wishing I could find some reason to have her sleep in my bed tonight. Instead, I toss and turn most of the night.

The next morning, I’m out of the bed at my usual time of six am. I work out a little in my home gym, shower, and then decide to make Sophia some breakfast. She’s still asleep when I finish, and I knock on the door to the guest room, to see if she’s hungry and awake.