Innocent in New York (11 page)

"Have you sucked a cock before, Sophia?"

After hesitating she shook her head. "No, sir, I can't say that I have."

Sir.
A word he heard on a daily basis, but not like that. From her lips, it sounded the exact opposite of the corporate strictness he drowned himself in. The way she said it, with a soft breath carrying the word out, it swarmed him, lifted him. "You will tonight."

She nodded, her gaze lowering. His cock strained against his boxers, and the way she watched him made him grow even harder.

"On your knees."

She did as she was told, her movements slow and a little unbalanced. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and eased it under her knees.

"You've driven me near insane throughout this evening. I'm not sure you've realized."

"I didn't mean to." She couldn't move her gaze away from the tent in his boxers. Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, and James groaned. She had no clue how much she affected every cell of his being.

"Take my boxers off," he said, keeping a command to his voice. Reluctantly she reached up and hooked her elegant fingers into his waistband, all the while gazing up at his face. He loved the look of her, her hair rumpled from when he held onto it, her perfect skin begging for his mouth, and her lips red and pouty. He recalled how he affected
her
before as much as laying a finger on her, and now she was doing the exact same thing to
him
. He'd never experienced that before. Sophia was an own kind of pleasure when she wasn't even trying.

Instead of doing what he asked of her, she planted those ridiculously soft lips against his abdomen.
Fuck
. That was actually sexy. He twined his fingers into her silky locks, holding her. Her eyes were closed, those lush dark lashes sending crescent shadows over her cheekbones made her look incredibly hot there she was kneeling. She dragged her lips lower, making his cock throb.

She pulled at his clothes and freed him. Desire with a mixture of hesitation skirted across her face. "We'll go slow," he assured her, and watched as she straightened her posture.

She reached up and wrapped her hand around his base, then squeezed him gently. Too gently. He smiled. Passion-drenched, curious eyes gazed at his length, and lust slammed through him. He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed her fingers tighter together.

"I can handle it," he said when her eyes skirted to his. He moved her fist up and down his shaft, teaching her, and groaned when she dared to grab him just a bit harder at the base. His sound of approval urged her on.

"Take me into your mouth," he said, barely finding the words, only remembering he wanted to possess her mouth when she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

She took him in and circled her tongue around and around, making James's eyes fall closed while she sucked him off. "God, Sophia," he groaned, knitting his fingers in her hair. His words of encouragement made her take him deeper into her warm mouth, her hands bracing themselves on his hips. She ran her tongue along his length and added just the right pressure to make his mind spin. He wondered briefly if she had lied to him about being her first.

"Slow, princess," he murmured, cupping her chin. He was on edge, continuously shifting closer. She found pleasure as well, he knew, seeing her skin heat, seeing her eyelids droop low in that telltale way. She made a moan, a little humming sound that shot straight through him, and nearly had him surge forward. He gritted his teeth. "Sophia, tell me, are you wet?"

She jerked backward, releasing him from her hot mouth, breathing hard. "What?" she spluttered.

"Tell me how wet you are," he repeated, keeping their gazes locked. "Tell me how wet my cock in your mouth makes you."

Her breath hitched, her eyes flickering to his erection for a short moment. "Well," she blinked, "I — I am wet."

"You can do better than that," he said, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. Sophia's blush grew a little darker, and he reveled in her reluctance to talk dirty. "Touch yourself, and tell me how your pussy feels."

She hesitated for a moment before placing her right hand on her abdomen, then letting it trace down until her fingers dipped between her slightly parted legs. She moaned, eyes closing in short ecstasy.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, "I'm wet. I'm dripping."

"For me."

She nodded, eyes on him now. "For you."

"What made you this wet?"

"Having you in my mouth, sir," she whispered, and then her gaze went to his rock-hard cock. She leaned closer and took him into her mouth again. Her tongue rolled over a sensitive spot before taking him a little deeper. James groaned, his fingers twining her hair tighter. His hips gave a small thrust, sending him another inch deeper inside her. It took all his strength not to slide all the way in and fuck her mouth. She already struggled, so he eased back to let her focus on what she could take. She knew how to use that tongue, gliding up to flick the underside of the head a little harder.

"Enough." He held onto her hair and slowly pulled out of her mouth before she could continue. "I need you in bed."

Hurt crossed her face, and he then realized his mistake. He scooped her up from the floor and brought her into bed with him. He touched his thumb to her lips, so warm and scarlet red.

"I loved every second of it," he spoke in-between kisses on her collarbone, "but I have something else planned for you." He moved to the side to the nightstand and rummaged the drawer until he found it. Returning, he held a rectangular black box with silver floral design printed on top of it, reflecting in the light.

After marveling it and running the tips of her fingers over the embossed design, Sophia opened it and scooped out the content. Black silky ribbons spilled out of her hands, and her head jerked to him, her lips parting.

"Herrera's gotten kinky," she joked.

"You have no idea." He took the box from her and withdrew a smooth blindfold from the bottom of it. It had the same dark silk she held in her hands but with a net of lace atop of it, set with pearls.

"All you have to do is trust me," he requested and touched her leg gently, handing her the blindfold. She touched the material as if she could damage it.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "You want to confine me."

"Yes."

"Like that woman we saw." Her gaze slid to the blindfold, to the silk spilling over her smooth thighs. The contrast against her milky skin made a growing urge surge forward in James. He wanted her bound — her hands grasping her confining bonds as blinding pleasure seized her. He bent to kiss her, lured her tongue to dance with his. She moaned, the last of her reluctance slipping away, and she turned pliant in his arms. He already knew she was curious of the idea of being restrained while pleasured. He nipped at her bottom lip before he slanted to give her jaw a kiss. Her sweet blue eyes flicked open, and then she nodded in approval.

James drew the mask out of her hands, slow in his movements. He placed it over her eyes and tied the strings behind her head. Her crimson lips turned even more vibrant against the blindfold. He stroked her cheek as he gently dipped her backward until she was lying down, her chest heaving in response to the new sensations. Never removing his touch from her, he reached for one of the ribbons.

"I'll secure your arms now." He lifted her arms up above her head.

Sophia nodded, her teeth denting her bottom lip.

"I've taken your sight, but not your voice," he said softly, trying to disguise the smile in his voice while he worked on tying a knot. She sucked in a breath.

"Yes, sir," she said, voice sounding thick. Her skin appeared a little flushed. She was enjoying herself. He could imagine her eyes heavy-lidded, begging him to fuck her because she had trouble saying the words.

Parting her legs, his gaze fused on her pussy, on the slickness coating her center, urging him to taste her, and he hadn't touched her there yet. The woman trembled and squirmed, the modesty of her still lingering and wanting her to shield herself. He would have none of it. He tied her like that, bared for him with nowhere to hide.

"You look fucking sexy," he said, his fingers denting the skin of her right thigh. She sucked in a quick gulp of air. "Don't think anything less."

"Yes, sir." Her voice came out breathy, and she seemed to relax beneath his touch.

"You're learning," he praised, running the back of his fingers up and down her inner thigh. The innocent touch sent a tremble through her, making her back lift and push her breasts upward. He needed them in his mouth.

She bit her bottom lip and then it popped free. He sucked the skin of her inner thigh, relished in the way her body quivered beneath his lips. He dragged his mouth higher and breathed in her scent. Using his forefinger and thumb, he gently spread her folds apart. Supporting her ass with his other hand for the perfect angle, he leaned in and stroked his tongue around her clit begging for his attention.

She whimpered, and wrapped her fingers around the black silk holding her trapped. She'd repeat that movement. When she wiggled her hips, he eagerly took the invitation and lapped at her juices, simultaneously plunging his fingers inside her until she screamed his name, her muscles clamping around his digits so fucking hard he almost came himself.

She panted for air after the quick arise of her orgasm, and James felt small shivers run throughout her body with each breath. Confined to the bed, sated, her skin dewy and glowing, she looked good enough to eat. She was completely helpless, bared for his gaze, for his touch, and he knew the position he had her in made her feel hotter than she ever had before.

Liquid heat pooled between her thighs, and he gave her a slow lick, one that made her almost shatter all over again, but he denied her. She lifted her hips toward his mouth as much as the ribbons allowed, and he accepted the invitation, sucking her folds and tracing them with his tongue, making her respond with another rush of moisture that he eagerly lapped up. Delving his tongue inside her, her entire body rippled with pleasure, her breath coming in raspy little gasps.

She moaned his name, carrying it out in a prayer. Dragging his lips up her body, he sought out her breasts, covering a peak at once, coaxing it to a harder peak while playing with her sex with firm movements. She was nearly there. Before he allowed her to come, he aligned his cock with her entrance, and filled her in one swift movement. Her fingers gripped the silk, her teeth denting her bottom lip at that first thrust. He used his mouth to toy with her earlobe and it only stoked the fire, causing her to beg him unashamedly to tip her over the edge. As he reached a hand down to squeeze her thigh, her pussy clamped down on him, making him groan and urge him to move faster, deeper. He slipped his hands beneath her rear, shifting her impossibly closer, and then his speed intensified. She arched in a tight bow, and her inner muscles clamped around him. She pressed her head back into the pillow, and her screaming his name was his undoing. Her cries faded when her lungs couldn't take it anymore, when her body couldn't handle it anymore, the last climax demanding all of her strength.

She moaned once in agony, loosening her grip on the silk. He planted a kiss on her neck, and next he removed her blindfold. She blinked, watching him as he tugged at the silk ribbons and finally she was free. With a wince, she lifted her arms. After freeing her legs he joined her by her side and scooped her closer, taking her hands in his to dull the ache from the restraints and Sophia sighed against him.

"Of course, Mr. Worth. I will make sure you have everything ready. I look forward to next week." Sophia ended the phone call with a sigh. Mr. Worth, a rich man with a fitting name, was one of the worst clients. He had silly requests like what kind of decorations he wanted for his meeting. He needed champagne colored roses, some type of sterling water, and ombre tablecloths. Sophia had never said no to a request. That was what Chris hired her for.

"I
love
Mr. Worth!" Agnes said with a wink from her station in-between visitors.

"I might just marry him." Sophia smiled, before they both erupted in laughter.

"Imagine arranging his wedding." Agnes rolled her eyes before turning toward the people in front of her desk.

If the man ever got engaged, she doubted the actual wedding would ever be ready in this lifetime. She looked down at the long list, straightened her back, and pushed back her shoulders. Back to work. Next she needed to get ahold of a specific type of sterling water from Norway. This guy had an obsession with Scandinavia for no apparent reason. On his last visit, she had to get handpicked Swedish flowers.

In the laundry room, Sophia had occupied a space for her tablecloth project. After visiting tens of stores in search for the specific color tones Mr. Worth requested with no luck, she had to take matters into her own hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chris asked, pausing next to her in the laundry room.

"I'm making ombre tablecloths," she said without skipping a beat.

His gaze snapped to her face. Sophia straightened. "Mr. Worth is having a meeting here. He requested table covers for his presentation. I couldn't find them, at least not in the color tones he requested, so I'm DIY-ing instead." No one ever requested tablecloths — especially
ombre
tablecloths; such a weirdo.

"DIY…" He shook his head. "Great idea, Sophia. I know he's demanding."

"Oh, it's fine!" She hung up the seventh tablecloth. She went through a crazy DIY-phase a year ago, and this was right up her alley.

"I wanted to ask you how things are going with your
friend,
James."

Sophia looked at him twice, shocked he'd bring that up again. She collected herself and tried to offer her best nonchalant shrug. "I don't see him that often."

"I heard you're staying in Monroe, and that the two of you had
Arielle
bring you food
."

Sophia knew that was something Arielle would never do for just anyone and so did Chris. Sophia drew in a quick breath, her face contorting in confusion. "Have you had someone following me?"

Chris leaned back against the table in the middle of the room, propping his arms on the surface. "No, of course not," he said with a head tilt. "Workers, as well as guests, saw Arielle arrive. Very suspicious. People are still talking about it. It couldn't have been anyone other than James's doing and it wasn't difficult finding out he'd rented a suite."

"So
what
if I spend time with James? This has nothing to do with my job whatsoever, not to mention I met him before he even visited Herrera. If anything, I have earned you money because he's been staying at our hotel for more conferences as well as renting the most expensive suite. One word and he'll head over to Grand Pier again. I can make him stay."

Chris observed her calmly. Anyone who stood up against him quickly lost their jobs. Sophia's threshold neared breaking point and she didn't care about the repercussions.

"I don't like it when my employees lie to me."

Really?
Really
? "My work hours are from nine to five. Usually, anyway. After that, you have no right to question my private life."

"I need you to get a deal from him."

"No. I haven't been seeing him for long. I've told you."

Chris sighed, looking saddened all of a sudden but it was just a charade. "Things have been rough around here, Sophia," he confessed, walking closer. "I have to let someone go."

"I pay attention to numbers as well, Chris," Sophia said with deadly calm, "and the hotel has never been greater. I won't believe for a second you'd fire me."

He walked over to her and pushed her against the sharp edge of the metal sink. She winced at the jab of pain, but she endured it. "I like you, Sophia. Always have." He touched her arm and smoothed her skin with his thumb. He was cold, disgusting in his touch, but she kept from leaping. She'd never seen his expression so severe, so hostile before. "But I have to cut back on employees. Unless," his beady eyes trained on hers, "you convince James to donate two million dollars. You have one week." He turned his back to her and headed toward the door.

Sophia's hands tightened into fists by her sides. She had never wanted to strangle someone so bad in her life. Her lower back still ached from him pushing her against the sink. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to calm somewhat. "Two million dollars," she muttered as she turned toward the sink where her dye project awaited. She couldn't imagine it. In a few hours she'd be on her way to James's place for dinner, something she looked forward to up until now.

Sophia arrived at his place at nine, barely having time for a quick shower in her hotel room before heading out again. She wore a simple black dress and heels, her hair in low set, sleek ponytail.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as he removed her coat.

Sophia turned toward him a little too abruptly. "No. Nothing's wrong."

He frowned, giving her a long stare, and she felt her resolve of keeping her mouth shut about Chris's demand slowly falter. She drew in a breath and asked quickly, "So, what's for dinner? It smells great."

James averted his stare finally, and moved to hang up her coat.

"Italian," he grinned, "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," Sophia answered honestly, and they both headed inside. She loved the way he immediately touched the small of her back when guiding her into his living room.

He kissed her cheek and pulled out a chair for her. "You look stunning."

She hesitated for just a moment to let the scent of him sink in.

"Thank you." She sunk down into the chair with a smile.

"Work okay?" he asked, heading over to the stove where several casseroles stood simmering. He stirred one of them and carefully tasted the wooden spoon with tomato sauce. Lucky spoon.

"Yes, it's been okay. Mr. Worth's coming in on. I believe you know him."

"I've met him a couple of times," he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. "He told me my office was boring when he visited once."

Sophia smiled, trying to imagine what Mr. Worth's office might look like. Ombre-painted walls, no doubt — and Viking paintings. "Do you want me to help with anything?" she asked, feeling a little restless. She needed to rid Chris from her mind, and James was the perfect distraction. She stood up and walked over to the kitchen, set nicely in a white and steel design.

He flashed a smile. "Sure. You can find wine glasses, if you'd like." He lifted his chin toward the corner fridge with double doors, and Sophia spotted the cabinet next to it with sparkling glasses.

"I'll get right to it," she said, and at once moved to collect the glasses.

"Are you still at work?" he asked, a small smile pushing at the corners of his mouth while he opened a bottle of red wine.

"Did I respond too fast?"

"Like lightning."

Sophia sighed, and brought the glasses to him. "It's just been a long day. I don't think I'll ever properly leave the hotel," she half-joked. Much less with Chris's demands hanging over her.

He poured the wine and then offered her a glass. "Have a glass, please. I promise you'll forget the hotel. A friend of mine gave me this when he opened his restaurant here in the city. He is such a perfectionist that he bought his own orchard in Italy just to make his own wine for his customers. He said it's the best thing ever created. You're the perfect judge."

"Sounds good." She took in the scent of the wine.

"Taste this first," he said, giving the tomato sauce a stir before picking up some on his spoon. He held the spoon close to him, and Sophia needed to mirror that.

"Careful," he said, bringing it close to her lips, "it's hot."

So, so, very hot. She moved her gaze from his rich brown eyes and to the steaming food. The vivid scent of tomatoes and basil reached her, and immediately made her mouth water. She eagerly took some into her mouth, feeling the heavy stare from James, and the burst of flavors took her by surprise, making her give a small moan. "Wow," she said after swallowing. "You've made this? That was fantastic."

"Now, try the wine." He nudged her glass still in her hand.

Sophia took a small sip and the wine flared to life. James smiled at her reaction.

"It's a fine wine on its own, but with a flavored meal it turns into a dream."

She nodded, worshipping the fine taste still lingering on her tongue from the wine and sauce. She'd tried different types of wine with different types of meals, and even had a course in it at work, but none with that effect. It reminded her of
Arielle's
combination. "Tell your friend it's more than okay. I might have to order wine from him for the hotel."

James grinned and licked a drop of sauce off his finger. "He'll love hearing that."

Once the food was served and more wine in their glasses, Sophia gloated, "Are you a secret chef or something?" She was lost in gluttony after the perfectly prepared pasta dish.

"I'm impressed. You've just found out my secret."

Sophia watched him with interest. "You have a lot of those?"

"Just the one."

"You being skilled in the kitchen."

He lifted his glass to his lips and drank some. "Speaking of, why don't you tell me a secret," he suggested casually.

"A secret." She bit her lip, pondering the question. The first one that popped up was Chris's demands.

"Your deepest, darkest secret," he repeated, his dark eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"All right," she succumbed, "my darkest secret was something you helped me get rid of."

"You being a virgin?" he scoffed. "Hardly a dark secret. It was more of an issue on your part."

"I worked in an adult shop," she reminded him, but his gaze told her he wasn't satisfied — he already knew. Moving her glass in circles, she watched the liquid swirl. "All right," her eyes shot to his, "but you can never tell anyone."

"I won't," he promised, the candles' flame mirrored in his eyes.

"I might just kill you if this ever gets out."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try," he grinned, "but you have my word. Your secret won't leave this room."

"I have an obsession," she stated, tapping a fingernail against her glass.

"Likewise," he countered, his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass before he lifted it to his lips and took a sip.

Sophia took a deep breath. "I am a kleptomaniac."

"What — excuse me?"

She shook her head tiredly. "I sometimes take pens."

"Pens," he copied, expression unchanging.

"Yes — pens from different places, organizations, offices, and such. I've tried to get rid of this, this
urge
, but I haven't succeeded."

James sat still and blinked. "Wow. You're a twisted person."

"I know." She covered her face with her hands. "And now you know."

Then she heard him chuckle, low at first, and then he fell into mirthful laugh.

"It's not funny!" She stared at him in shock. "Stop that."

"You take a few
free
pens with logos on them, and make it sound as if you've stolen a Ferrari. Oh, it's funny." A smile widened across his face again.

Sophia glared. "I probably have two hundred of them."

"Two hundred!"

"I need to be stopped!" Sophia realized she wasn't getting through. "Never mind. What can you tell me about yourself?" she asked.

"My deepest, darkest secret?" His smile seemed to simmer down finally before he thought of her question.

"Aside from mad cooking skills, yes."

He gave her a wry smile, his eyes lowering to the table for a moment. "Most of my life is an open book. The only chapter hidden from the public is what you already know."

"That you go to a fancy sex club and have a thing for tying people up? Oh, you traitor," Sophia said. "I already know that!"

"All right." He rolled his eyes. "All of my boxers are blue."

Sophia paused her drink midair. "Really?" She frowned, trying to remember his clothes. "Why?"

"No clue," he smiled, "but I can only have blue boxers."

"Is it like a good luck kind of thing for your business?"

"Not really," he shrugged, "I just like blue."