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But how the fuck can I when Sophie’s indignation and relentlessness today reminded me so much of the way she kept coming back for more that night in San Francisco? The way she tossed her head, mussing and tangling her hair on the pillowcase. The way she screamed.
She wouldn’t have been able to scream in the restroom today. We would’ve had to stay quiet, so I would’ve covered her mouth with my hand, fucking her with my fingers until she was ready to take my cock.
Her body feels like it was made for me. We fit together so fucking perfectly.
Sophie would’ve been absolutely and irrefutably mine in that restroom. I would’ve wrapped her legs around my waist and fucked up into her, opening her more and more, sinking deeper and deeper into her tight warmth.
I would’ve made her come at least three times before I allowed myself to follow her. And she would’ve screamed behind my hand anyway. In spite of herself. In spite of the coffee shop, and any men who might’ve been waiting outside to use the restroom. They could all listen and be jealous. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. If we had only…
“Fuck,” I grit out, my vision whiting out for a moment as I come all over my fist, my muscles bunching and shaking, the shower spray still prickling my skin. I have to brace myself against the wall with a hand as I wring myself dry, hoping, as my cum washes down the drain at my feet, that this is it.
That I’ve somehow gotten rid of the fantasy of having Sophie again by giving in to my desire, just for this one secret moment.
I turn the water temperature to cool again, hoping for clarity. I slowly get it, my mind drifting back into focus, and as my head clears, a cold feeling of certainty hits me in a rush.
Hiring Sophie was a mistake.
She doesn’t belong at Dynasty, no matter what her qualifications might be, and no matter how hard she says she’ll try to do well. Because I’m going to be there every step of the way, trying even harder not to bend her over my desk and fuck her.
I want her so goddamn badly—even after jerking myself off to a fantasy that didn’t happen—that my cock is already stirring again, growing half-hard just at the thought of her.
She was right after all, I muse to myself as I turn off the water and dry myself off just outside the shower. I wish my mirror was one of those that fogs up, but it’s not. I can see my sorry-ass face in it, lax from the orgasm but already hardening, my jaw going tight as a small crease forms between my eyebrows.
I’m going to be the problem at work, because I don’t know if I can restrain myself from taking exactly what I want from Sophie the very next time I see her.
My little session in the shower has had the opposite effect that I hoped it would. Now I’m keyed up. Feeling a little guilty, even, and on edge about what comes next.
Running a hand through the dampened strands of my dark hair, I stride out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist, going to retrieve my phone from the den where I left it. I’ve missed a couple of messages from my best friends on the group chat. The three of us have been close for years, and we’ve known each other long enough to have an easy short-hand with each other that almost feels like we can read each other’s minds.
COLE: When are we going out for drinks again? And where?
REED: Come on, man. You know my publicist recommended I play it on the down-low for a while.
COLE: Just because you’re going through a terrible breakup doesn’t mean the rest of us have to suffer. It’s been a rough week so far, and I’ve got a babysitter lined up for Archie on Saturday. I need to blow off a little steam. Declan, back me up here.
I snort under my breath as I type out my response.
ME: Hell, no. My company just celebrated its one-year anniversary after going public, and the last thing I’m going to do is create a PR nightmare by associating with you two assholes.
COLE: All the more reason to drink.
I chuckle, and within a matter of minutes, I’m settling into bed with all three of us hashing out schedules and plans to meet up. These are the only two people in the world who know everything about me, the best friends I’ve ever had. More like brothers, really. We’ve been giving each other shit, and support, for years.
And we’re all so similar—with similar challenges in carving out our own businesses, families, and empires—that it makes it easy to let my guard down with them.
Because we all understand one fundamental thing: heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Chapter 10
Sophie
I step off the stairs leading up from the subway, squinting in the bright morning light. I was so anxious about not showing up late on my first day of work—in a position I fought and clawed for—that now I’m actually an hour early.
Ah well. That just means I get to treat myself to coffee.
I suppress a yawn at the thought, my body perking up at the thought of caffeine. I went through nearly my entire wardrobe last night, picking out three possibilities for my outfit, then changed my mind twice this morning. And despite trying to fall asleep early, I tossed and turned pretty much all night, so I could definitely use a pick me up before I head into the office.
I head toward the hole-in-a-wall coffee shop, Common Grounds, because it’s the nearest one to Dynasty. That has to be the reason why Declan frequents it too. It’s very convenient, less than a five minute walk from the soaring high rise.
