25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
S ophie awoke with the first lazy rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she realized the barriers of pillows they had set up the night before were gone. Instead, she found herself entwined with Stone, their bodies molded together in an unintentional embrace that felt surprisingly right.
She lay there for a moment, savoring the warmth and safety his presence offered, her mind replaying the vulnerable conversation they’d had before sleep had overtaken them. The memory of her half-serious suggestion about exploring happiness together lingered in her thoughts, mixed with the uncertainty of his silent response.
“Stone,” she whispered, hesitant yet needing to know where he stood. He stirred next to her, his eyes slowly opening to meet hers.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
Sophie took a deep breath, bolstered by the clarity that morning brought. “About last night—”
“I remember,” Stone interrupted gently, his hand reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. “You suggested we reconsider the rules.”
Sophie nodded; her gaze locked on his. “I did. And… I also mentioned another idea, something that might be one of my best ideas ever. But first, I need to know, after our talk, do you believe it’s possible? For us to explore what this is?” Her voice was soft, her inside all vulnerable and exposed.
Stone’s expression was thoughtful, his usual guarded demeanor tempered by the night’s knocking down of walls. “Sophie, I—” He paused, his gaze dropping to where their hands were linked between them. “I like you. But I’m not the type of man you should want to get involved with. Oliver would be a much better choice.”
Her heart tightened. “Why would you say that?” she pressed, needing to understand his hesitation.
“Because, …” He sighed, his gaze meeting hers again, this time with an intensity that took her breath away. “People with lives like mine… We don’t just get to have the fairytale. There’s always a cost.”
Sophie’s resolve hardened; she wouldn’t let him retreat. “Maybe the right man is someone who doesn’t think he’s right but is willing to try and figure out a path forward, for the right reasons.”
Stone’s face softened, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Even if I were the kind of guy who would do that, we’ve established that I’m not your type.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, the possibility of what could be suddenly seeming within reach. “Not completely true. If you recall, I told you that in my fantasies you’re exactly my type of man.”
“And what book boyfriend trope do heroes with tragic backstory fall under?”
“Any of them.”
“Why would a generic hero with no trope be your fantasy choice?”
Heat filled her cheeks, but she didn’t shy away from responding truthfully. “Because heroes with tragic backstory are often excellent dirty talkers.”
“What I hear you saying is you fantasize about men like me—not because we’re perfect for you—but because in real life you’ve never had a man tell you, ‘Get down on your knees and—'”
“I’m not going to apologize for what turns me on,” she snapped.
“Nor should you. But the ability to talk dirty to a woman isn’t something one builds a forever relationship upon. It’s more of a torrid fling asset. Which I’m—”
“Can I kiss you?” she interrupted before he said something that ruined her mood. “You see, before I woke up, I had a dream that my mom was talking to me about how conflicted I am where you’re concerned. And in my dream, she said I’d know you’re the right guy if you bend your rules for me and for me alone. I figure a kiss is the biggest rule I can get you to bend right now.”
Stone’s smile turned tender, genuine. “We’ve already bent that rule, or did you forget?”
“Yes, but I want to bend it here, where no one is watching, and it’s being bent for discovery purposes that I hold very dear. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
He groaned. “Has any man ever managed to tell you no while looking at you freshly awake after a night spent in your bed?”
“Nope,” she said with as much assurance as she could manage considering he was the first she’d ever asked a special favor of.
“We haven’t even brushed our teeth,” he said.
She reached around and opened the top drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a pack of Listerine breath strips. She snapped open the container, pulled three out, handed them to him, and then plopped three in her mouth. “A professional daydreamer is always prepared,” she quipped. “Now, can we kiss?”
“I can’t see the harm in kissing you one more time… If it means that much to you.”
“You’re the best.” She scrambled onto her knees and leaned across him, lowering her face until their lips touched. And before she could decide tongue or no tongue, he yanked her down and deepened the kiss.
Sparks and heat consumed her. Like her skin was alive with magic. She shuddered at the sensation.
There was tongue.
When she was certain her pulse couldn’t beat any wilder, he growled against her mouth and fisted his hand in her hair. Who knew a girl’s pulse could push into that gear?
The kiss exceeded even her wildest hopes. The fierce, desperate vibes of this might-be-our-last-so-let’s-make-it-a-good-one were off the chart.
She was so lost in all the new sensations kissing him presented, she didn’t notice he’d shifted until he was suddenly on top.
His lips left hers to drop soft kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks.
“Stone, I—”
“Don’t say it,” he growled and captured her lips again, preventing her from speaking.
She arched into him, grinding against his erection.
He stilled, moved his lips to her ear and spoke. “Don’t.”
In that moment, Sophie’s spinning brain told her two things. One, she felt safe in his arms. Two, she wanted them both naked. “But I want to,” she practically whined.
Somewhere in a faraway place, a phone rang.
“Fuck,” Stone said, causing her to startle.
Realizing the phone wasn’t far away but instead was in her bedroom, she stilled. It rang again, and she realized it was Stone’s. That’s why he was cursing. “Don’t answer,” she pleaded.
He briefly dropped his forehead to hers and then reached for the noisemaker, keeping her firmly under him. “What?” he snapped.
There was a moment of silence, and then he swore. “Fucking hell.” He disconnected from the call, and sat up, his breathing still heavy.
Sophie waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she asked, “Is everything okay?”
He glanced at her as if he’d forgotten she was even there and shook his head. “It was my brother, Ryder. They know who threatened you. I must go.”
“Why not just let the police handle it?” Sophie asked, immediately worried. “You’re injured. I thought you were benched from heavy security duty.”
Her concern caused his already dark expression to grow darker. “This.” He made an open-palmed gesture toward her. “This is why I’ll never get married. You and I aren’t even a couple, and you’re stressed to the point of having red splotches all over your neck at the idea of my leaving to go and do my job.”
She was amazed at the level of ugliness in his tone. One would have thought she’d just admitted to adultery or something. “Don’t,” she exclaimed, and then paused, noticing the weariness in his eyes. “Don’t do that to me,” she finished quietly.
“Do what to you?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
“Shut me down for showing concern. I have news for you—you could be going across the street to pick up our hairless cat at the pet beauty parlor, and I’d be a little concerned that a piano might fall on you between here and there. It doesn’t mean I want to shuck the whole idea of our exploring us…especially now that I’m assuming you’ll no longer be shadowing me twenty-four hours a day.”
He reached out and gently cupped her jaw. “Sophie, I’ll never be book boyfriend material. Don’t fantasize about a forever with us. Any exploration we might engage in will always have an expiration date.”
She bit her lip and nodded. He wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t already said a thousand times. It wasn’t his fault if her heart hadn’t been listening. “We’ll talk later. I’m sure you need to go.” Maybe, just maybe, his heart hadn’t been listening either.
What kind of professional daydreamer would she be if she didn’t hope?
He grunted and glanced at his watch. “The guy’s in another state. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Please promise me you’ll cancel all your interviews for today.”
Much to Sophie’s relief, he didn’t wait for her to make the promise.