Strangers & Sinners
"Verona," he barked, pulling away from Sophie but keeping a gentle hand on her.
She sat up and edged her body between his back and the back of the couch. Her arms went around his waist and slipped under the waistband of his sweats, teasing his pubic hair.
He swallowed his groans and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his body while he tried to concentrate on what the caller was saying. Sophie was persistent. She kept her arms around him, teasing him, her palm rubbing over the tip of his penis, her fingers straying to his heavy balls.
He had to move to the other side of the room. She followed him, slipping to her knees when he leaned against a wall. He glared at her.
She laughed, and pulled his sweats down.
"I understand," he said into the phone, his hand on her shoulder, trying to keep a little distance between her mouth and his groin. "Keep me informed," he added as he hung up.
"You little devil," he chuckled, tossing the phone on a chair and scooping her up into his arms. "Couldn't wait, Tiger?"
"Of course, I can wait," she grinned, kissing his throat. "It's you who can't wait. See how quickly you picked me up?" she gloated.
"Is that right? Well," he announced, putting her back on her feet and bending to pull up his sweats. "Let's see how long you can go without touching me."
"Much longer than you, Sergei," she assured him.
"Wanna bet?" he arched a brow, crossed his arms over his chest and assumed the stance of an FBI assistant director.
"You're on!" Sophie chortled. "What's the winner get?"
"You," he laughed, cupping her chin.
"And if I win, Sergei?"
"I'll love you any way you want," he promised softly.
"Deal," she smiled, making herself at home on the big chair near the TV.
He poured a glass of wine for each of them and then got comfortable on the couch, the TV remote in hand. "What do you want to watch?"
"Doesn't matter. You're not going to be watching for long." Nick thought she sounded very sure of herself.
He lay back on the couch, surfed through every channel once, then twice while he sipped his wine.
Sophie sipped her wine, sitting quietly and watching him.
Just as he was about to surf through the 88 channels for a third time, she slipped her sweats off, spread her legs and touched herself intimately.
Nick sat up.
Sophie pushed her hips forward and spread her legs wider apart, still touching herself.
He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was getting wet.
One hand was locked around the TV remote while the other reached for his cock. Suddenly, the room was too warm.
"Come here, Tiger," his voice rasped.
"I don't think so," her words came out in a rush as she exhaled, then took a deep breath. "Both of your hands are full, Sergei. One with your penis and the other," she pointed at the TV remote, "with your penis extension." She laughed at her own words and continued to touch herself while he tried to remember to breathe.
"Come here," he growled low.
"You want something, Sergei? Come and get it for yourself." She stood with her legs apart, yanked her T-shirt over her head and cupped her breasts, squeezing them together. "Work for it, Sergei. You have to earn it." Her words taunted him, making him harder. "Come and get me, Sergei. Catch me if you can."
She jumped when he roared and ran. He chased her through the apartment, tripping over his sweats, and making her laugh as she ran up the stairs.
He caught her on the landing. Laughing, he swung her up in the air and continued on to his bedroom. Dropping her on the bed, he spread her legs and covered her sex with his mouth.
Sophie's arms went around his neck and she held onto him like a lifeline while he loved her.
"You taste like hot cream," he murmured, lapping her juices. "Sweet, hot cream."
As she reached her orgasm, he entered her, pulling all the way out and then, slamming back in - again and again. His back was curved over her body, his hands kneading her breasts while his hips thrust back and forth inside her. His breath was heavy on her neck and Sophie shivered from a multitude of sensations.
Nick was climbing toward that peak and his body pounded into Sophie's softness. He knew he had to be hurting her but he couldn't stop the momentum. When his release came, its intensity roared over him, stealing his breath, leaving him as weak as a babe.
Afterward, he held her. He turned them on their sides and simply held her. He held her for a long time, unable to let go of her, unable to say the words he wanted to say.
For God's sake, don't tell her you love her, his conscience warned, wavering between disgust and alarm.
Can't shut up, it continued badgering. It's Sunday night. You have to go to work in the morning. She's leaving in the morning. Find out more about her now.
Sophie was content. She loved the feel of his arms holding her, but she was also sore, her flesh swollen and tender from his loving.
Just remember it was only sex, her inner voice warned. Don't get all mushy and think it's more than that.
I won't, she promised.
Yeah, right! It snorted, knowing more about how she felt than she was willing to admit.
He stroked her face, enjoying the luxury of just looking at her. "What will you do on Monday?" he asked out of the blue.
"Go to work, as usual," she answered with a slight shrug of her shoulder.
"How early do you start?" He kept his voice calm, determined not to be disturbed when she said she was a hooker. Not that he expected her to use that word. She probably uses a different term... call girl, escort, personal assistant...
Sophie was playing with the hair on his chest, her fingers gently tugging. She licked her lips, thinking about licking his body.
"How early do you start?" he asked again.
"Not too early, 9 or 10 AM."
"That *is* early," his brows rose, wondering who paid for sex at that hour. "How many clients do you usually see?"
"Eight or ten, but some mornings I stay home and see clients in the afternoon. They're generally waiting with bated breath by that time."
I'll bet! his conscience snorted.
"And you make a good living this way?" He stroked her face, loving the gold flecks in her brown eyes, gold flecks that matched the ones in her hair and the ones in the silky curls between her legs.
Wonder how many men enjoy those silky curls every day? his conscience nagged.
"Are you using any...? Do you go home between clients and...?"
"And what?" she asked, confused by his question.
"And... get ready for the next one?"
"Why ever would I do that? I have everything I need for each client in my briefcase. I just freshen up if a client has worn me out and move on to the next one." She pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze.
"What is it you think I do, Sergei?"
"You want me to spell it out for you?" he choked.
Sophie laughed. "Yes! Tell me what you think it is I do."
"Shit!" he growled low. "I think you should..."
"Sergei! I don't use words like that. I don't like to hear them, either! She moved away from him, clearly perturbed at his language.
"A girl in your profession," he said sternly. "You've heard those words before. Don't pretend to..."
"Yes," she interrupted him, "of course, I've heard them before, but I don't see any reason to use them. And when are you going to tell me what *you* do for a living. I'm pretty sure AD doesn't really stand for assistant derelict."
He sighed softly, unhappy he had made her angry and gently pulled her back into his arms.
"I do work for the FBI, Kitten. I..."
He cursed loudly when the phone rang. He wanted to ignore it but he knew a stakeout was in progress and he had to keep on top of things.
Sophie took long, even breaths, calming herself, determined to let him know what she did for a living.
Then, he'll tell me what he does and...
"Kitten," he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her when he hung up the phone. "I have to go out."
"Work?" she asked, more curious than ever as to what he did.
"Yes," he replied simply. "I won't be long. Will you stay till I get back?"
"Maybe," she answered honestly. "I don't know."
She sat in his bed, the sheets pulled up to her shoulders and watched him dress in chinos and a turtleneck. He pulled a soft leather coat out of the closet, slinging it over his shoulder.
Before he left, he sat on the side of the bed, pulled the sheet away from her naked body and dropped kisses on her breasts and between her thighs. "I want you in my bed tonight, Anna Sophia. I don't want to sleep alone."
An hour after he left, she was waiting in the lobby of his condominium as a cab pulled up to the curb.