8. Sophie
8
Sophie
I barely made it down the stairs without breaking an ankle in my stilettos—the same fucking shoes that were to blame for the humiliation and lust coursing through me at that very moment.
Good girl.
I couldn’t stop thinking about his words.
I also couldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes, the feel of his hands on my waist, the intoxicating rush of desire still curling in my core.
Coming to a breathless stop at the table my friends sat at, I slid in and grabbed my unfinished drink, now watered down from the melted ice. I tossed it back, the burn of vodka and the tartness of cranberries lingering in my throat. The good news was, since I hadn’t eaten much that day, the drink would go straight to my head.
“Whoa, Sophie, slow down. Are you okay?” Callie asked, her conversation with Liam forgotten.
“Yep. Great,” I panted, slouching in my seat. I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt.
“What was that all about?” Liam questioned, removing his arm from around Callie’s shoulders and leaning forward on his forearms.
Sniffing, I twirled the face-framing strands of my hair around my index finger. “Nothing, really,” I bluffed, but I knew they were going to ask more questions. Perks of being best friends with a couple of detectives. “He had some information about my dad’s case. That’s all.” There. Keep it vague.
Liam’s green eyes widened. “Soph, be careful around him. He’s dangerous—”
“Babe, calm down,” Callie murmured. “She’s a grown woman and can handle herself.” Liam rolled his eyes, but she flashed me a cheeky grin and winked, as if she knew why I was so flustered.
“I’m just saying—”
“Yes, what you’re saying is you don’t think she’s smart enough to identify a potential danger and wouldn’t think it through before having a private meeting with him.” He snapped his mouth shut before he gave her a knowing look that spelled trouble. The interaction made me smile, finally distracting me from the whole altercation with Maverick.
“So…” Callie continued, bouncing her eyebrows up and down. “Is that all you guys talked about?”
I lunged for her drink, not hesitating to take a big gulp of it despite her protests. “Yep, that’s all.” Technically, not a lie.
“The fact that you’re blushing tells me otherwise—”
“Alright, that’s my cue,” Liam grumbled, sliding out of the booth. “I’m getting a refill. You two—just, please, be done with that conversation before I’m back.”
Callie and I burst out laughing while he backed away with a shake of his head. There was a time when we openly discussed sex, but I supposed that was before the two of them officially became involved. Amazing how quickly things could change.
“I am so getting laid tonight,” Callie said with a wicked grin.
I sighed heavily. “That makes one of us.” Disappointment settled in my gut. Along with the lingering lust… I felt like a tangled mess of emotions.
“Ten bucks says you could go back up there and get laid right the fuck now.”
My cheeks heated even more, if such a thing were possible. I was no prude, and usually led a very sexually active life, but Maverick made me feel like a blushing virgin all over again.
“Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” I grumbled, trying to forget the whole good girl thing again.
Her blue eyes flicked in the general direction of where I’d disappeared with him earlier. “I think you’re missing out on a good time.”
“If you were single, I’d tell you to go fuck him,” I joked. “But in all seriousness, it’s not a good idea for me to do that. He’s… intense. Really intense.” And just asked me to kill someone for him. After which I held a knife to his throat.
Dios mio , my mind warred with itself, and not in a good way.
Part of me was already regretting not taking his offer, not just for vengeance but also to spend more time with him. The other part of me wanted to stay as far away as possible, because Liam was right: Maverick was dangerous, far more than I was, and I was not a strong enough woman to stay away and fight my hormones. Plus, he was heartbreak waiting to happen, and I didn’t need that. Not right now.
“Soph… what actually happened up there?”
I twirled my hair again, the alcohol finally making my head fuzzy, thank God. “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
She frowned but nodded. “Okay.”
The silence surrounding us made one thing glaringly obvious: Maverick had embedded himself under my skin and in my mind, infecting me until all I could think about was what it would be like to go back up there and see how I could make him regret ever meeting me.
“Come on,” I urged Callie, suddenly needing to move. “Let’s go dance. Flag Liam down on the way.”
We made our way to the dance floor, the thumping music enveloping us in its pulsating rhythm. The colorful lights danced across the walls, creating a kaleidoscope of hues that matched the chaotic whirl of bodies. Callie and I let ourselves get lost in the music, our movements fluid and uninhibited.
As I swayed to the music, I felt a surge of recklessness wash over me. The alcohol coursing through my veins heightened my senses, making me acutely aware of every touch and brush against my skin. Each passing body stirred a hunger in me, a craving for something more than just fleeting sensations.
When Liam reappeared with fresh drinks, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of us dancing on the crowded floor. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, a silent question in his eyes, but he said nothing as he handed us our drinks.
The music throbbed louder, and I felt Callie’s hand slip into mine, drawing my eyes to hers. She leaned in close to me to say, “Your heart’s not in it. Let’s go.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, tipping my glass up to drink it all in one fell swoop while my friends watched with concern. Callie handed her full drink back to Liam, the gesture speaking volumes to her knowing her limits after years of alcohol abuse.
Moments later we were in the fresh night air, my feverish skin getting a much-needed reprieve. My sweat began to dry as my friends flagged down a cab and turned to me, both wary as they scrutinized me swaying in my heels.
Yeah, those drinks definitely went straight to my head. I should’ve been more careful with my empty stomach.
“Guys, I’m fine,” I told them, trying not to slur my words.
“Right—” Callie started.
“Seriously.” I waved them off. “Go home. I’m calling an Uber.” I held my phone up to show them the app was open. After another moment of debating, they climbed into a cab together and left.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts, which were still heavily riddled with the memory of Maverick touching me, lighting me up from the inside in ways I’d never experienced before… I wondered what would happen if I marched back inside the club and demanded he bend me over and fuck these feelings out of my system.
Blowing out a breath, I made a rash decision.
***
Dean leaned against the door frame of his studio apartment, a wry grin plastered on his face, as if he knew I would come around eventually.
Ugh.
Just because we’d hooked up on and off since our breakup did not make me an easy lay. His smugness irked me, when all I was only here to get off at the hands of someone other than myself.
“Hey, Soph,” he drawled.
I gave him a quick, insincere smile. “Hey.” Then, realizing I was being a little cold, I relaxed my shoulders and leaned toward him. “It’s good to see you.”
His eyes brightened with false hope. I should feel guilty, but I desperately needed to get off. I could deal with the blowback later. “You too. Come in?”
I skirted past him into his apartment, taking in the familiar surroundings that I used to be so accustomed to. I let him pour me a glass of wine, even though I was still bordering tipsy, and entertained his small talk. With a steady flow of alcohol in my system, it was easy to keep the lust driving me here from dissipating. I was actively eye-fucking Dean and hoping he’d take the hint.
Finally, after way too long, he gave me a slow grin. “Sophie. Are you just trying to get in my pants?”
I tilted my head to the side, trying not to cringe at how I really didn’t want it to be him I was sleeping with tonight. “Since when has that been an issue?”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, I guess because he expected a more heartfelt answer, but I just yanked him to me by his shirt, crushing my lips to his, running through the motions until we stumbled into his bedroom. We fell backwards on his bed, me straddling him, and as my hands smoothed over the planes of his chest, I couldn’t help the flicker of someone else in my vision, wondering what he would feel like.
The thought made me moan, antsy to have Dean satiate these feelings running rampant through me. And even though he was beneath me, gripping my hips and guiding me to sink down onto him, all I could picture was another man, moaning my name and filling me. It was those thoughts of Maverick that had me climbing toward my release as I arched my back, my face tipping to the ceiling while I rode Dean.
Maybe it was fucked up, but the memory of Maverick’s heated touch and intoxicating gaze on my skin made me explode.
That’s when I knew I was a goner.