Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Andrew
I saw her as soon as I entered the MO Lounge. She was chatting to the barman, which caused a now-familiar pang of jealousy to twist in my gut.
I didn’t want conversation. I’d just gotten off the phone from Tristan, who was also in town. We’d agreed to meet up tomorrow night. I didn’t want to drink in the Manhattan skyline; I had a better view from my room.
So why was I here?
I strode across the lounge and slipped onto the barstool next to Sofia.
She turned to me, entirely unsurprised by my arrival.
“Good evening,” she said. “My name is . . . Bianca.”
She was ridiculous.
The barman slid a glass of my favorite Barolo in front of me. I thanked him with a nod.
“How do you do that?” she asked. “It’s like everyone knows who you are and what you want. Is it Jedi mind tricks? Is that the secret?”
“If it was, I’m pretty sure my assistants would have a better turnover rate.”
“Oh, he speaks.”
I took a sip of wine while Sofia continued to complain and gripe over .
. . I wasn’t quite sure what exactly. Perhaps she was nervous about the meeting tomorrow.
Maybe being back here triggered something for her.
Whatever it was, I didn’t appreciate the sarcasm.
And I didn’t appreciate the non-stop noise. She was still in work mode.
I was not.
“Can we not do this?” I asked her. I wanted to relax.
I wanted half a chance of sleep tonight.
I didn’t want to be berated about my lack of social skills.
I hated travelling. It was far too easy to waste a day doing nothing when you were in transit, so in every moment that I wasn’t walking from one designated area to another, I ensured I was doing something productive—emails, reviewing research, reading articles.
Anything but inane chitchat and a rewatch of Mamma Mia! Once was more than enough.
“Do what?”
I didn’t respond and continued to smooth my fingers down the stem of my glass.
Sofia was clever. She could figure out what I was saying if she shut up long enough to think about it.
She had a combination of cognitive, social, and emotional intellect that I didn’t come across often.
Most really clever people couldn’t hold a conversation at a party.
Those who could read people often couldn’t focus on technical details.
Sofia had the rare ability to do it all.
She just needed to refine her skills, and she’d be unstoppable.
The priority was surely learning to control that mouth.
An image of her on her knees in front of me, my cock in her mouth, slipped into my mind. I glanced over at her and she met my gaze; it was as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Can we go upstairs?” she asked. Her tone had shifted. Like someone had popped her bad mood like a balloon. “I need to . . . blow off some steam.”
I’d always been so good at separating my business from my personal life.
I made my mistakes big and early and I learned from them, and was determined not to repeat them.
But Sofia had put a spanner in the works.
I probably should have left when she came into Noble Rot that first evening.
I was just . . . amused by her irritation at me.
It was entertaining to learn what it was my assistants hated so much about working for me.
I should have left her to it, but something kept me there until the very last moment that I had to leave for a drink with Gabriel.
When it came time to pay, I didn’t know what it was that made me want to reveal myself to her—to let her know I’d been listening all along.
It was only fair. And I wanted her to know that she didn’t need to worry.
Maybe I was unreasonable. Maybe I was an arsehole in the office.
Maybe I was just focused and I expected the same from everyone else.
Whatever it was, when I turned to her and she’d heard the barman call me James, it was like she wasn’t the employee who worked right outside my office door every day.
In that moment, she was a beautiful woman who’d had a bad day.
A woman who wore her passion on her sleeve—and I couldn’t resist the urge to learn just how deep that passion ran.
At least I’d had the good sense to leave her fully clothed. That first time, anyway.
And then when she was there the following night .
. . Game over. It had left me with no choice.
I had to see her eyes grow hooded as she approached orgasm.
I wanted to feel her shudder underneath me as I fucked her.
I wanted to smooth my hands over her soft, warm skin and feel her fingers in my hair.
I should have resisted.
I should have walked right past the bar instead of going inside to see if she’d been as tempted to see how this played out between us as I’d been.
Too late. What was done was done. And here I was—here we were—three thousand miles from home and all the rules that kept our relationship in balance.
She wanted me again, just like I wanted her.
We were still in limbo between my personal and professional lives, but the doors to each world were ajar.
It felt like they were about to come off their hinges.
“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.” The words curdled in my mouth as I spoke.
Out of the corner of my eye, Sofia took a sip of her cocktail. “Because you’re my boss?”
In my head, I could hear doors slamming and car tires screeching to a halt as James and Andrew morphed together in some kind of Terminator-type amalgamation.
“And you like to keep things separate. Hence you freaking out like a bunny in a fox pen when you got a social invitation at work.”
“Foxes don’t live in pens. The bunny would be in the—”
“You get what I’m trying to say.” She swiveled on her stool so she was facing me. “We both know your name’s not James. And technically you’re my boss but—”
I couldn’t keep my chuckle silent. “Technically?”
“Yeah. You’re my boss as much as Mr. Romano at Emilio’s Cucina was, the summer after freshman year. He thought he was in charge of me, but I was only there for the summer. How much authority did he really have?”
“This isn’t about authority.” I didn’t want to abuse my power. I didn’t want any part of Sofia to think she had to sleep with me because I was her boss or because she thought she might be fired if she said no or if things went wrong. “I’m not Mr. Romano. Everyone has different boundaries.”
“Boundaries can be redrawn when crossing them is important. Venice wasn’t part of Italy until 1866, and before that Italy was cut up like a margherita and divided between France and Spain and Austria.”
“Thanks for the history lesson.”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying, boundaries aren’t fixed. If it’s important, they can shift.” She took another sip of her drink and then stared right at me. “You and me? It feels important.”
My heart spun in my chest. It felt important to me too.
“Maybe it’s just great sex,” she continued.
“I don’t think so. It feels like more. I’m not saying I want you to be the father of my fifteen Italian babies or anything.
It’s just . . . I think I get you. And I think maybe you get me too.
Like you’re the yang to my yin, if ‘yang’ means moody, uncommunicative, and irritating. ” She grinned at me.
I wasn’t sure someone worried about their job security would call their boss moody, uncommunicative, and irritating. I couldn’t fault any of her arguments.
“I don’t want to shut down something so . . . interesting.” She emphasized the last word like the men she usually met were boring. I could imagine Sofia running rings around most people. “I want to see where it goes.” Her tone shifted, suddenly bordering on shy.
I’d never broken my rules or moved my boundaries for anyone. The fact that I’d kept going back to Noble Rot had meant something. I’d gone back for her. I hadn’t been able to keep away. And now she’d dissected all my objections.
I pulled out my wallet and left enough cash to cover our drinks and a generous tip. “Let’s get out of here.”
I took her hand and we rode up the lift in silence. As we entered the suite, I pulled off my jacket. “Take off your clothes and go stand facing the window.”
We both needed to blow off some steam. Whatever else was between us, sex with Sofia was unlike any I’d experienced before. I’d spent too long trying to pinpoint why and come up empty. Maybe this time, I’d be able to figure it out.
“Can people see?” she asked, as she pulled her dress up and off, leaving her in just her underwear. Confident as ever, she unsnapped her bra and then bent to take off her knickers.
Completely naked, she wandered across the living room to the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the entire suite. I undressed while I watched her as she hovered a meter or so from the glass.
“There are buildings right there,” she said. “Can they see in here?”
She turned as I strode toward her.
I dropped some condoms on the console table she was leaning on and led her over to the window facing a building covered in mirrored glass.
“Maybe,” I replied, placing her palms on the glass and moving behind her.
“Maybe they can see your beautiful body.” I cupped her breasts, one in each hand, and pulled her nipples between my thumb and forefinger.
“Maybe they can see me doing this to you. Touching you, bringing your nipples to a peak, squeezing harder and harder until your breaths come a little sharper, a little more desperate.” I let go and she whimpered—maybe in relief or perhaps it was because she wanted more.
I wanted more too.
“You think they see you splayed out like this?” I bent and positioned her legs apart. “Your pussy wet, even though I’ve barely touched you. You think they can see how ready you are?”
Her head fell back and she groaned as I trailed my fingers up her legs and across her stomach. She was spread and eager for me.
“You get to come quickly tonight. You need your rest before tomorrow.”
I tore open a condom wrapper and rolled it on my cock. Without ceremony or warning, I slammed into her.
“Jesus,” she cried out.
Her fingers curled into fists against the glass and I watched the reflection of her pendulous breasts jutting towards our reflections every time I thrust into her.
“You’re so good at fucking me.”
She didn’t need to tell me how good it was for her. The way she tightened around my cock, requiring me to brace myself on her shoulder as I fucked her, told me this felt just as fucking fantastic for her as it did for me.
“You think everyone’s gathered around their windows, watching you get fucked?” I growled into her ear. “Do you think they know how good my cock feels?”
“They couldn’t understand,” she huffed out in desperate breaths. “Nothing has ever felt so good.”
She was right. There was nothing better than what we shared, and there never would be. She knew it. I knew it. It was just the cold, hard truth.
“Do you like being watched, Sofia? Do you like to show off this beautiful body and how it reacts when it’s treated just right?”
“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.”