18. Cedric
18
CEDRIC
S ofia’s weekend in the city is the perfect excuse to invite her over to discuss her project and how to showcase her experience without breaking the contract she signed. She’s already expressed her want to be open and honest and how this might get complicated.
Nothing like a nice discussion on morality over a private dinner with my student to exacerbate the growing tension between us. It’s not at all a smart idea.
I’m just not sure I care anymore.
My sleeves are rolled up from making dinner, which is in the oven and almost ready to plate when there’s a knock at my door.
I wipe my hands clean and open the door to Sofia. She’s in a pretty, simple black dress that makes her look so sophisticated and elegant. Sexy. The smile on her red lips, though…
Blood thrums hard in my ears.
Am I an idiot for thinking the way she’s dressed up for me means I have a smidgen of hope? And those damn glasses. How much of my thoughts can she see on replay?
Stepping back, I invite her inside with a wave, reaching down to unroll my sleeves and put myself back together. “Please. Come in.”
“Don’t button back up because of me.” Entering my house brings her sweet scent with her, sinking the talons of need into my chest.
I stop as her gaze drops to my forearms, such a common detail in romantic genres that I can’t help but feed my own narrative. “Would you like something to drink? Dinner is almost ready.”
Those teasing eyes focus on mine. “You cooked?”
An almost smile teases my mouth as I nod, escorting her to my chrome and black kitchen. It’s sleek and masculine, yet somehow, she fits in it.
Sofia turns toward the oven, eyes closed as she breathes it in. Ginger, garlic, maple, thyme, and pecans. “What is that?”
“One of my favorites. I have a white to go with it, but I also have water and tea.” I certainly don’t want to pressure her to drink, but she’s old enough and can decide for herself.
“White is fine. Thank you.” She’s moving again, circling the island in my kitchen, fingertips trailing around the edge of the counter with her slow steps. There’s no shyness in the way she takes in the details of my place—how much of it she can see.
The kitchen, dining room, and living room area is one big, open space. Dark woods and pops of white decorate the space. It’s minimal. Clean. Easy. Which almost makes me laugh because I am not an easy man to deal with.
Sofia doesn’t wander far, circling back into the same wedge of space as me.
I have two glasses and pour us both some wine. Her soft thank you as I hand her one tugs at me.
We both take a slow sip without breaking eye contact, and trouble is catching up much faster than I anticipated.
Disarming myself, I turn to the oven to pull out the chicken, too aware of her gaze on me as I do so. The control I must employ has my muscles tight, heat pumping through me. Because I have a feeling she’s going to give me everything I ask for. I just have to let her ask.
I find that I enjoy the way she watches me make up our plates. Maple pecan chicken, the mustard serving sauce, steamed broccoli, and creamy potatoes. Sofia closes her eyes to pull in another deep breath.
She looks right in my eyes when she opens them again, and I feel raw under her gaze. “That looks fancy.”
I nod her over to the table. She grabs the glasses and the wine and follows me over. Her soft laughter as I pull the seat out for her needles that control again.
No hesitation from her. She’s cutting herself a piece to try and freely moaning through her bite as I sit beside her.
The craving to sink my hand into her smooth blonde hair and arch her head back to find other ways to make her moan…
“How are you not married if you can cook like this?”
I shake my head and take my own bite. “Taking no prisoners tonight, are you?”
“You are notoriously single, Mr. Trevino. You must know that. All of the girls gossip about you.” She casually takes another bite as if that isn’t a bomb she just dropped between us.
“Do they?”
Sofia overly exaggerates her lash flutter. It’s enough to crack a smile at the corner of my mouth. “They all want to be Mrs. Trevino. Don’t you know?”
Huffing softly, I shake my head again. “I appreciate the compliment, but tell me what kind of footage you got this weekend. I reviewed the contract, and there are some serious parameters to consider as you edit.”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing I’m not releasing this until after their movie is out. It avoids a lot of the red tape on what I can show. Although, honestly, I think the other stuff around the set with my group will provide enough drama that I doubt I need to include anything that would break the NDA.” Sofia takes another elegant bite.
Who taught her to move like that? It must be the time she’s spent with her mother in Europe. The culture she’s been exposed to.
Why is it so goddamned attractive?
“Elaborate. I don’t assume you’ve already been through the footage or started a rough cut.”
“No. I haven’t, but the time was eventful. One of the girls in the club got kicked off set.” Sofia leans in conspiratorially. “She was drilling one of the lead actors about other things he’s been in.”
My brows lift on their own. That’s a rookie move. Completely outside of normal social etiquette, and to do it on set is a major faux pas. “I bet that will be entertaining in review.”
“It was entertaining at the time, too, but yes, I think I will enjoy editing that into the storyline.”
“This is the girl who disrupts every meeting and fawns all over Professor Knight, isn’t it?”
Sofia blushes. I slam down the urge to pepper her with questions on what that’s about. Her footage has shown his keen interest in her and her slow acceptance of it. Has he crossed that line with her this weekend?
Do I have a chance at making something happen between us tonight?
“Yes. Leann. She’s a bit of a problem, but there’s not much I can do about her attendance. I did fight for her to get let back on set for the next morning, and she wasn’t given the chance to misbehave again.” The look she gives me is what can only be deemed as a mom look, like her child should know better.
“I look forward to seeing how you present it.” I take another sip of wine and watch her eat. It’s strange. I’ve never felt anything about feeding someone before, but I’m proud that she likes what I made for her.
That she’s letting me take care of her in this small way.
“Was there anything else that happened during your trip?”
By the way she tosses her hair back and sits up straighter, I know I’ve hit on that sensitive spot. Then her body language shifts, and she looks at me like a sly minx. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
I let out a slow breath and watch as Sofia takes in my features.
She bites her lip, and fuck, I want to sink my teeth into her.
“What kinds of things have you noticed when you review your footage that you didn’t see at the time?”
After a few stunned blinks, she looks down at her plate, over at mine, and back to hers before she sets her fork down. I reach out to take her wrist, making her jump, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Eat.” I’m not sure how she spikes my dominance this way. It takes a few beats for her to nod and me to retract my hand.
Forcing myself to steady my movements, I take another bite. I don’t want to make her feel self-conscious.
She slowly eats again, too, sipping her wine. I know she hasn’t forgotten my question, so I wait for her to answer me. The tactic works every time.
“I’ve noticed a few relationships might not be quite what I thought at first.” Her voice is soft, subtle, submissive.
God, the image of tying her wrists together, holding her in place as I explore the things she likes done to her has heat expanding through me. My skin tightens with anticipation.
If she can give over her trust to me… Fuck, I’ll ensure that she feels good, make it so she wants to come back for more.
“How do you mean?” I take another bite to keep her moving, to be sure she doesn’t get stuck in the fear driving her right now.
Sofia swirls her fork in the mashed potatoes, using them to stall her answer. She half laughs, half sighs. “It sounds conceited when I say it in my head.”
“Tell me.” The command isn’t a harsh one. Nothing more than I would say in my office, but we’re not in my office. It lands differently.
A new blush creeps across her cheeks, over her throat as she swallows. “That some of the… men in my life… look at me differently than I thought before.”
“Differently how?” Usually, silence is my go-to, but I want her to say it.
Her shoulders wiggle uncomfortably before she peers up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength. “Like… they might be attracted to me.”
I maintain my stare until she meets my gaze. “Has that altered your perspective in any way? Are you picking up on more of those subtleties around you?”
Have you noticed the way you breathe fire into me? Into your father’s friend? Into that golden boy professor?
Can you see my all-consuming desire to dominate your body and demand your pleasure when I look at you?
“Yes and no.” She swirls her wine again, finishing it.
“Would you like some more?”
Sofia shakes her head. Her plate is mostly cleared. Mine is by half, and I don’t think I can wait much longer. Leaning back, I give her my undivided attention. Most have a strong reaction to it. Usually, it’s not a positive one.
But after a minute, Sofia turns toward me, staring back, those camera glasses picking up everything I’m feeling.
“Is this making you uncomfortable?”
Another shake of her head. I’m not used to seeing her so submissive. So quiet and demure. It’s like she knows what I want from her, and she’s trying to give it to me in her own way.
“What do you see when you review our meetings?” It’s a bold question, the one that will give me my next move—wrap this up and escort her out or push her to discover her every little fantasy I know I can provide.
Her gaze drops to my mouth. “Sometimes, I’m not quite sure.”
I stand abruptly, taking her plate and my own into the kitchen. Her gaze follows me, concern etched across her features. Her coyness is self-preservation. But I want her to trust me enough to be honest.
Spotting her bag on the end of my couch, I stop nearby and peer down at it, finally making my decision. I turn back to her and command, “Come here.”
I point between my feet.
After only a second of hesitation, she’s on her feet, sauntering toward me. The space between us disappears, but I don’t touch her yet. I let her simmer in the tension that’s swallowing me up.
My resistance is strained, cracked, broken. I tuck her hair away from her face, sliding my finger around the back of her ear as she shivers. Then, I tip her chin up and slowly descend to take the kiss I’ve been craving these last few weeks.
Her mouth parts automatically, a siren call to the darker parts of myself.
I sweep in and take what I want, feeling her grow pliable against me as I tug her closer. My arm snakes around her waist, holding her tightly. Let her feel the way my cock grows hard between us.
Her hands lift to run over my arms and shoulders, and I delve deeper into her. When her grip tightens at the open collar of my shirt, her hips wiggle against mine, and I must take control.
Sinking my fingers into her hair, I hold her fast, restraining her movements as I give her one last taste of my tongue before I pull my mouth back from hers. Her breath has her breasts heaving against my chest. The sight has me nearly growling.
“Tell me what you want, Sofia.”
Softly panting, she looks into me for a few seconds before she licks her lips. “I want to suck your cock.”
With those red, red lips. Fuck, it taps into the unending fantasy on replay in my thoughts. “Then, get on your knees.”
I loosen my hold around her waist but not the one in her hair as she sinks to the floor. She’s forced to look up at me, and she waits for instruction like a good girl.
“Take me out.”
God, she doesn’t hesitate this time, reaching up to unlatch my belt and fly. My stiff cock breaks free the moment she has the zipper down. I loosen my grip on her hair so that she can see me more fully. See what she’s about to take in her mouth.
Her soft moan eats at me, and she looks her fill. My hand in her hair doesn’t let her lean forward to take what she wants. The anticipation winds me tighter.
When her gaze flicks up to mine again, it makes me throb with need. And those fucking glasses. I want to see this from her perspective.
Sofia smiles up at me like she can read my mind. “This is an excellent view.”
Sucking in a slow breath, my voice is low and guttural. I trace my thumb over her bottom lip. “Not as good as this one.”
“I have another pair in my purse.”
My nostrils flare. Did she plan this? Has she known what I want from her this whole time?
Of course she has.
“Stay here. Don’t move.”
Sofia giggles lightly and stays put as I retreat to her purse. “Front pocket.”
They’re easy to find, and I return to her with them on. The way she’s sitting back on her heels, her hands placidly in her lap, reinforces how natural, how perfect she is for this.
I’m so fucking hungry for this. For her.
Even though doing this with her will end badly—it has to—I can’t deny myself.
My cock bobs inches from her face, but I don’t reach for her this time. “Suck me off.”
Her eyes hood, and she reaches for me gently, stroking my length with a few exploratory pumps. When I’m about to chastise her for taking too long, her mouth opens and surrounds the head of my cock.
I let out a long-suffering breath of relief. The sight of my shaft disappearing between her lips has every muscle in my body taut.
It takes a minute before she’s able to swallow me down, but the process is erotic. Her tongue swirls and cups me, and when she retreats, she sucks. Hard, like she’s ready to drain me dry.
I twitch against the roof of her mouth, and she shoves all of me down again, her throat constricting as she swallows again and again until she has to pull back to breathe.
When my fingers brush over her cheek, her eyes open, and she looks up at me. I hope to all hell that these camera glasses are catching every detail of this because I want to watch this back. I want her to see how beautiful she is when I’m stretching her mouth open. How tears form in the corners of her eyes.
I can’t wait to make a complete mess out of her.