27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
T he elevator door slid open, and Sophie spotted Stone standing by the railing, his posture rigid and radiating tension. Sensing the storm of emotions brewing within him, she hesitated before clearing her throat to get his attention. Perhaps, taking the time to go home, shower, and change before coming hadn’t been one of her best ever decisions.
He remained still, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Was he doing this on purpose? Making her feel anxious as a way of punishing her for not following his rules? If that was the problem, he was just going to have to get over it.
Glancing around, she realized he’d had her meet him in a secluded rooftop garden. Interesting choice. Surely, he wasn’t so furious that he would contemplate something drastic. The thought settled for a second before being discarded as silly. She blamed it on the thriller she was reading, where that was exactly the kind of thing the villain would have done.
In the real world, it was much too pretty of a night to be murdered, especially by one’s security detail.
Deciding she’d had enough of the silent treatment, she spoke. “This place is lovely.”
Stone turned, his gaze dipping to the word Dreamer printed across her chest, his brows furrowing as if the simple, optimistic word somehow read as a provocation rather than an aspiration.
Choosing not to ignite the argument he seemed poised to begin, Sophie opted for neutral ground. “Is this place open to everyone, or do you know someone who lives here?” Pulling up her I’m-not-scared-of-the-big-bad-wolf panties, she stepped fully through the doorway.
The building was nestled in a swanky part of Manhattan, where affluence and prestige were prerequisites for residency. It was the kind of place where deep pockets met influential connections, each apartment a testament to both wealth and well-curated social references.
“You went on another interview,” Stone said by way of greeting, his voice matching the icy sharpness in his eyes. “Even though I expressly told you to wait.”
Sophie took a breath. She was her own person. He wasn’t her boss. In fact, he sort of worked for her, not the other way around. “I did,” she said unapologetically. “I thought—”
“What?” Stone snapped, cutting her off, his frustration palpable in the thick air between them. “You thought it was okay to just ignore the danger?”
She stuck her chin in the air. “Obviously, I was right since I’m here, unharmed.”
“And you think that makes you right?” Stone’s voice was incredulous. “At best, it makes you lucky. Do you realize how reckless your decision was?”
Sophie’s patience unraveled. Exasperated, she gestured toward him. “This—this right here is why I prefer guys like Miles. Sweet guys. Guys who don’t try to bully everyone around them.” She regretted the words the moment she spouted them. She’d never convince Stone he was her type if she kept saying the opposite, even if saying the opposite helped save her pride.
“I’m not trying to intimidate—I’m trying to educate.” His voice dripped with a tone that sounded uncomfortably pompous.
“I am not a child,” Sophie snapped, no longer regretting her earlier word choice. “I’m perfectly capable of handling interviews with individuals who have been thoroughly vetted by Naked Runway . Just because you’ve built a career around dealing with dangerous people doesn’t mean everyone in the world poses a threat. This project was meant to be enjoyable, and it is—when you’re not looming over it, casting a shadow over everything I do.”
“What if we hadn’t captured the douchebag? What if he’d slipped through our perimeters and come after you while you were out there in the city without your damn security detail?”
She rolled her eyes. Imaginary worries were a waste of good energy. “Nothing happened, Stone. Two out of the three interviews went beautifully. The men are excited about becoming book boyfriends.”
“And the third?” he pressed, eyes narrowing slightly, searching her face for any sign of trouble she might be hiding.
She held his gaze. There was no way she would reveal that the third man had pulled a gun on her. It would only escalate his fears and provoke an even bigger overreaction on his part. “Nice enough guy, but he wasn’t interested in spilling his secret for the cause.”
“What kind of secret?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “He clammed up before sharing anything.”
Stone pinched the bridge of his nose as if his level of exasperation had reached its pinnacle. “Do you even want to know who was after you?”
“Was it the guy from the garage?”
“No.”
“My ex-boyfriend?” she asked in a mostly light tone.
“No.” This time the no came out more explosive.
Stone’s one-syllable responses were grating on her nerves. “Are you sure? Because I did put his name on a do-not-date-ever list and mentioned his, uh, shortcomings in the bedroom. He’s the petty type who might want to settle a score.
Finally, Stone gave her the briefest hint of a smile, a glint in his eyes. “Trust me, he won’t be bothering you again.”
“What the hell does that mean?” A shiver went through Sophie—a cocktail of fear tinged with an undeniable thrill.
“Let’s just say we had a conversation the day after Poppie first mentioned him.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” She balled her hands into fists and plopped them on her hips. “I handled him. I didn’t need you stepping in.”
“I simply made sure he understood the situation clearly,” Stone said in a flat tone.
“You made sure?” Sophie retorted. “For your information, I didn’t need you to rescue me.” Gah. She wished Poppie had never mentioned how gullible she’d been when it came to her ex.
Stone’s expression hardened slightly. “I just provided him a little…extra incentive to keep his distance”
“Please tell me you didn’t hit him. That’s so barbaric and not at all like the cinnamon roll hero you promised you’d be.”
His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t lay a hand on him, but I did make it abundantly clear that if he ever came sniffing around you again, my fist would be the last thing he saw before his teeth met the back of his skull.”
“Unbelievable. You are the most unbook-like boyfriend I could have ever had the misfortune to be paired with.”
“That’s because there’s nothing sweet or soft about me,” Stone bit out. “If you insist on labeling me as a book boyfriend, try dark alpha.”
“Who introduced you to that type?” Sophie asked, half curious, half annoyed, half jealous he’d been talking book boyfriends with someone other than her. And yes, she knew that was one too many halves, but it was what it was.
Stone smirked slightly. “Let’s just say, I’ve been doing my own research. Turns out there’s a whole spectrum of book boyfriend tropes you’ve conveniently never mentioned.”
Sophie sighed. “That’s because my column is focusing on those types most prevalent in romantic comedies—those that charm with a touch of vulnerability. Not…whatever you’re embodying.”
“I’m perfectly happy knowing my tragic backstory fits right in as a dark romance hero,” Stone said.
She scoffed, more to bruise his ego than out of disbelief. “You do realize those characters are aggressive lovers, rarely play by the rules, and often tread on the dark side of the law, right?”
“I’m well aware.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that’s you?”
Stone looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know why you didn’t see that from the start.”
She studied him, a sudden realization dawning on her. He was trying to scare her off. Trying to keep her at arm’s length. As if he thought she was on the verge of falling for him, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.
The fact he was right pissed her off. The realization bruised her pride. Well, she had news for him—she didn’t go around leaving her heart at the feet of men who didn’t want it. She snatched that organ up and crammed it back into her chest where it belonged, all while glaring at Stone. What an ass.
“You’d make a lousy dark hero,” she practically shouted, suddenly in the mood for a fight. “Sure, you’re tough on the outside. Your job demands it. But inside, you’re a stickler for rules. Hell, that’s why you’re mad. I didn’t play by your rules. Newsflash, alpha types don’t give a damn about rules.”
“You’re mistaken if you think my actions are governed by them,” he countered with a steely edge.
“Prove it,” Sophie dared, her eyes locked on his.
His nostrils flared. “How exactly would you have me do that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her voice casual but her mind racing. “You’re the alpha. Figure it out.”
“You won’t like my choice.” His voice was a low growl. Like he was a caged animal being toyed with.
Sophie ignored the danger signs and flashed him a mischievous smile. “How about you prove it by breaking your rule to never get involved with a client?”
He closed the distance between them, his presence hot and overwhelming. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, his voice a dangerous whisper.
“Fraud much?” she taunted lightly, challenging his self-control and the very rules he clung to.
Stone grabbed her shoulders, and for a heart-stopping moment, they stood locked in a silent standoff under the dark sky, his breath shallow, her heartbeat thundering in her ears like a frantic drum.
“If you’re smart, you’ll tell me to stop. Right now. This moment.” His voice was rough with restrained intensity.
Sophie met his gaze unflinchingly. Just because he wasn’t worthy of her heart didn’t mean she didn’t want to finish what they’d started this morning. “You’re bluffing.”
With a low groan, he pressed her back against the railing of the rooftop garden, the lights of Manhattan twinkling like distant stars. Whose roof garden she couldn’t be sure and didn’t really care. All that mattered was the darkness enveloping them, the solitude of their high-rise retreat, and the raw intensity in his eyes as he promised she’d just poked a bear. A bear who vowed to prove her wrong.
Sophie tried to drum up a little concern and found none existed. The truth was she wasn’t a bit sorry at the idea of Stone schooling her in such a way.
“I don’t bluff,” he warned, his voice a rough whisper that brushed against her skin just before his hands cradled her face. Then, his lips assaulted hers in a kiss that caused her whole body to wake up with fiery need. A kiss that shouted resisting was a waste of time. Like that was going to happen. She’d waited her whole life to be kissed like this.
Sophie raised her hands and allowed her fingers to trace the contours of his chest until they rested at the nape of his neck; then she danced them over his newly shaven head.
She paused, a flicker of curiosity about his choice to return to being bald. Part of being her cinnamon roll hero boyfriend was having hair.
His hips pressed against hers, snapping her back to the heated moment at hand.
After years of devouring romance novels where the tortured hero surrenders to his deepest urges for the forbidden woman, Sophie was finally experiencing it in reality. Every bad boy decision she’d ever made had been with the hopes of this deliciousness. Of feeling the hard evidence of a man’s arousal pressed against her, signaling that his need had him twisted up in delicious torment. And finally— finally —she’d found a bad boy who actually delivered on the fictional hype.
His tongue dove into her mouth, and she released a moan so primal it rippled through her, sending a shiver of anticipation spiraling down to her core. His hands traced a path from her face to her shirt, his touch electrifying. He pulled back just enough to catch a glance at the word she’d emblazoned there in hot pink, then flashed her a wicked grin. “The next shirt I wear of yours better scream alpha .”
Before she could even nod, his lips claimed hers once more, fervent and insistent. His hands charted a tantalizing path down her chest to the hem of her shirt, slipping beneath the fabric with a boldness that sent her pulse racing. They ascended her stomach in a slow, seductive crawl until they found their destination, cupping her breasts through the delicate lace of her bra, lingering there in a bold, possessive hold. Squeezing.
Sophie’s fingers itched to explore just as brazenly. She reached for his belt. Her hands, slightly clumsy in their eagerness, fumbled. With a low chuckle, he stepped back and undid it himself. With a few swift movements, he stripped down to his boxers and then stood proudly before her.
Holy fairytale endings. The tip of his cock, poking out of his boxers in a most delightful display of readiness, met all her book boyfriend fantasies…and then some. “The epitome of Victorian-faint-worthy yumminess,” she managed to murmur, causing him to laugh.
Before Sophie could mirror his daring undress, he swept her back into his arms, his movements decisive as he steered them to a secluded wall away from the ledge. With a swift tug, he peeled her shirt over her head, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra clasp. The cool wall at her back contrasted with the heat of his urgent touch, sending shivers of anticipation down her spine.
As she let her hands drift down, her bra slipped from her shoulders and fluttered to the floor, his eyes following its descent before returning to hers.
“Magnificent,” he murmured, reverently. His voice thick with awe, painting a vivid portrait of an alpha on the verge of losing control.
A playful breeze teased around her neck, coaxing a shiver from her. She drew him in closer, craving his warmth, and was instantly rewarded by the firm press of his chest against hers.
Sophie had always been a sucker for a romance where the man was carved with six-pack abs and possessed the rough touch of chest hair. This was her first actual encounter with such a man who had both.
And don’t even get her started on the muscles that bulged in his biceps. The only thing missing, the thing that would crown him the ultimate alpha—tattoos. Which surprised her, considering he’d been a Navy SEAL.
His hands ventured between them, catching the hem of her skirt, coaxing it upward inch by tantalizing inch. His fingers grazed her thighs, urging gently until she parted them further, an unspoken invitation.
His lips met hers again, this time soft and teasing, his teeth nibbling at her bottom lip as his fingers traced lazy, provocative patterns on her inner thigh.
She leaned into him, aching to feel the hard press of his erection. But he held her back.
“Not yet.” His restrained voice heightened her anticipation, stirring a delicious mix of frustration and excitement within her.
This wasn’t just any kiss; this was a kiss from Stone—Stone, whom she’d needled until he’d lost control and broken his rule of engagement.
Given that he was a man who’d proudly proclaimed he’d mastered self-will, he would greatly regret this in the aftermath. Not that she felt bad about shoving him off his own stance—after all, hadn’t she declared his fatal flaw to be that of an unwillingness to lose control? She’d done him a favor by pushing him until he broke. Until he admitted that sometimes he had to hand over the reins and become vulnerable.
It was the only way he would ever be the hero of his own love story.
But she’d save that to think about for another day. Right now, all that mattered was the commanding way he claimed her in his arms, promising a mastery she had only read about.
His fingers shifted slowly up her thighs, sending a surge of desire pulsing through her, igniting her senses as though she was caught in a thunderstorm and every nerve became a live wire.
When his fingers halted just a whisper away from caressing her needy flesh, she groaned. “Touch me,” she ordered, in a breathless command.
He complied, and a sharp hiss of approval escaped her as his fingers met her eager clit.
His low chuckle vibrated against her skin. “If you like that, you’re really going to like this.” He dropped to his knees and gently raised her skirt, sending waves of keenness rippling through her belly.
At that moment, Sophie’s world turned vibrantly sensory. The sweet scent of night flowers mingled with the crispness of the evening air, and the aroma of his skin—a deep and compelling mix of dark rum and the distant smokiness of a bonfire.
As he lowered himself to his knees, Sophie couldn’t help but sigh in eager approval of his next move. She braced her hands against the cool wall, her entire being silently screaming for him to continue, her need mounting with each breath.
He glanced up at her, his gaze intense, and for a fleeting moment, Sophie thought he was going to ask for permission.
She waited, the word yes already forming on her lips.
Instead, his eyes took on a smolder. “I hope you’re not too attached to these.” His fingers teased the flimsy scrap of material at her hip.
Before she could even process his words or muster a response, he tugged sharply. The fabric gave way as if it were mere tissue, and suddenly, her panties lay in a soft heap around her ankles. The swift, bold move left her breathless, her heart racing from the thrilling alpha-like action.
Only to be followed by an even more thrilling move, his mouth pressing to her mound. Over the roar in her head, she somehow heard him say, “Sophie,” in a husky, gruff utterance that ignited a primal surge of feminine power.
His tongue worked relentlessly, his hands gripping her ass, anchoring her in place, dictating a maddening slow rhythm. Each languid stroke was so exquisitely torturous that Sophie thought she might die from despair.
“Quicker,” she managed to gasp out, barely audible.
“What’s the rush?” he teased, his voice a low rumble against her.
“Someone might come before I do and that would be fatal,” she replied, her voice betraying her desperateness.
“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he reassured her.
“I’ve never had sex on a rooftop,” she confessed breathlessly.
“That’s because you’ve never been with a true alpha.” He rose to his full height. “Don’t move.”
His order both challenged and thrilled her.
Through half-closed lashes, Sophie watched him stride to his discarded pants, his movements purposeful. He retrieved a condom from his wallet and then turned to face her, his every action heightening the tension between them.
While she held her breath in anticipation, he stepped out of his boxers and kicked them away. The movement caused her breath to whoosh out only to get sucked back in as she watched him deftly roll the condom on his magnificent cock. “That’s going to take some getting used to,” she murmured, her eyes glued to it as he approached her.
“Turn around and place your hands on the wall,” he ordered.
Like a good little girl , she silently added to his demand. As she pressed her palms against the cool, rough surface and waited, every book-boyfriend-loving ounce of her hoped like hell his next words would be dirty. Dirty. Dirty.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, “and don’t make a sound unless I give you permission.”
She smiled as she spread them. What exactly would he do to a good little girl who disobeyed a command? Perhaps she—
He was behind her in an instant, his lips finding the sensitive curve of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a sharp nip causing all thoughts to flutter away. “You were very naughty today.” His words came out growly with an undertone of something she couldn’t quite decipher.
She swallowed hard but said nothing.
He palmed her ass, gave it a sharp squeeze and then slapped it.
She yelped.
He slapped it again. “I said no sound.”
She bit her tongue to keep from verbally responding, but her body was singing yes, yes, yes.
Much to her delight, his fingers expertly sought her, parting her with practiced ease, as he positioned himself teasingly at her entrance. His shaft brushed against her, the contact electrifying, sending waves of near-unbearable pleasure through her, threatening to undo her completely before they even truly began.
She moaned.
He stilled. “Sophie, did you hear me say no sound?”
“I did.”
“And yet, you continue to make them. I have half a mind to make you suck me off and then send you on your way unsatisfied.”
Would he do that? “Please don’t?”
“Please don’t tell you to get down on your knees and suck my dick like a good little girl?” he asked. “Or don’t send you away like a bad little one?” As he spoke, his thumb rubbed against her clit.
Sophie considered her answer the best she could what with being on the brink of an orgasm. “Please don’t send me away unsatisfied.”
His thumb slowed its movement.
She whimpered. No one had ever edged her before.
“If you don’t want me to stop, what exactly do you want me to do?” He positioned his shaft at her opening.
“Fuck me now, punish me later.”
He responded with a low, husky rumble of laughter, and then complied, entering her slowly. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“Only in the very best way,” she said breathlessly.
He circled one hand around her, his thumb once again finding and deliciously teasing her clit, moving with a rhythm that could only be described as a masterpiece.
Just as she teetered on the brink of losing control, he pulled back.
“Damn it,” she exclaimed. “I was about to come.”
“I know,” he said, spinning her around to face him, scooping her into his arms, and carrying her inside. “I want to see your eyes the first time I make you orgasm.” He didn’t pause until they reached a massive bed, where he gently dropped her onto a soft mattress.
In an instant, he was over her again, his presence commanding as she opened her legs to welcome him back. Wrapping them around him, she anchored her feet at the ankles. “I’m not letting you go until I get what I want.”
“As you wish, princess,” he responded. “But later, we’ll talk punishment.” With those words, he entered her.
She and Stone found a primal rhythm, their movements now frenzied as they chased their climaxes. Amid guttural growls, and oh my Gods , and fuck that feels goods , their skin grew slick with sweat, and the air around them became charged with the heat of the union and, if she wasn’t mistaken, sparkles.
“You have no fucking idea how much I’ve wanted this,” Stone growled. “To drive out any notion that I could be your sweet, leading man in some romantic tale.”
“Sweet guys are the ones women marry, but bad boys like you are perfect for moments like this,” she replied, a raw honesty in her voice. It was a belief she had always held. The reason she’d dated her ex. But now, as the words left her lips, they struck a chord deep within her, causing her heart to jolt with a terrifying intensity. She no longer believed that to be true. Men like Stone were also marriage material.
“Smart. Fucking smart. Never marry a man like me.” Stone’s response was laced with a hard edge of realism.
Her body tensed, her mind racing. No. Not smart. Profoundly mistaken. “But—” she started, her protest caught in the vortex of her swirling emotions and the undeniable connection that tethered her to him in that charged moment.
“No buts, princess,” Stone whispered, his voice a commanding velvet before his lips crashed into hers, silencing any further protests. His hand moved with certainty between them, finding her clit and pinching sharply, the unexpected intensity sending her spiraling into oblivion. Her world fractured into blissful shards as waves of ecstasy overwhelmed her, her entire being consumed by the powerful release that rocked through her, shuddering in the wake of the most intense orgasm she’d ever had.
At the same moment, Stone stilled, his own climax mirroring hers, a shared storm of release that left them both breathless.
“Holy book boyfriend,” Sophie whispered in awe. Never had she ever been…so fulfilled.
“Alpha book boyfriend,” he corrected with a chuckle.
As their exhausted breaths mingled in the quiet aftermath, he gently slid off her, drawing her into the crook of his chest.
“Sophie?” he murmured, propping himself up on one elbow to gently brush the hair from her face, a soft tenderness replacing the earlier fervor. “We need to talk.”
“Hmm,” she managed, still lost in the haze of their shared enjoyment.
“The guy who threatened you—it was someone from my past,” Stone began. His voice was burdened with a weight she hadn’t heard before. “Years ago, we clashed, and he never forgot it. He heard about us on Isabella’s podcast and saw a chance to strike where it would hurt me the most…by targeting you. A woman he believed was the love of my life.”
The heavy implication of his words lingered in the air, casting a pall over the room.
Sophie, her bones still rubbery with happiness, struggled to prop herself up on one elbow, as her brain scrambled to make sense of what he had said. “You caught him?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yes.”
“It’s over, then?” She wanted to make sure she’d understood.
Again, he nodded.
“I see. You knew the threat was over, and yet you chose to scold me for simply continuing my life in your absence. Why?” She didn’t wait for his answer. She knew the answer. “Because it meant you couldn’t control me, and God forbid the great Stone Blackthorn doesn’t have complete control over every aspect of his life, even his client.”
“You’ve got it wrong,” Stone shot back. “The past twelve hours have been my fucking worst nightmare. Every quiet hope I’ve ever harbored—that I could somehow have both love and a career—has been shattered. His decision to target you just confirms it. My life, my career, it’s too dangerous for—”
“For what? For someone to love you,” Sophie interjected. “You think you have the right to make that choice for yourself and the woman you fall in love with and who loves you back?”
“Do you love me?” he asked, looking startled.
Nope. This was not how she was going to admit that to him. Hell, she’d not even admitted it to herself. “Are you still my bodyguard?”
“I resigned six hours ago.”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “You didn’t even talk to me first.”
“I made the decision that was best for all concerned.”
She sat up and scrambled off the bed. “No. No, you didn’t. Your decision was not what was best for me. You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind what ifs . Not a hero. And until you figure that out, you’ll never be book-boyfriend material. I don’t care how good you fuck.”