from all those years ago. Eric had filled out. His white T-shirt strained across his chest and his biceps. He wasn’t overly muscled, but he wasn’t lean and lanky anymore, either. She smiled as she looked at his biceps. There was an inch of paler skin showing just below the cuff of the sleeve before his arm turned a deep golden brown. She stared in fascination at that strip of skin. Redheads with a tan were so very rare.
He was so rare.
She had no right to be in this deluxe suite with him, no right to be staring at that strip of skin. She had no right to him—but she wanted him all the same. Just for the weekend. Just for herself.
Sofia took a deep breath and let her arms fall to her side. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
His eyes darkened as his gaze fell to her breasts. Her nipples tightened even more, jutting out through the thin fabric of the camisole. She swore she heard him growl. But instead of pouncing, he said, “Feeling better?”
“A little.”
He moved closer to her and she stepped into him. They stopped just short of each other and he lifted his hand to brush her hair away from her face. “Hi,” he said softly, cupping her cheek in his palm.
She leaned into his touch. They’d spent the whole morning together, but this? She didn’t feel like she was standing in front of Eric Jenner, eligible bachelor billionaire. Without his bespoke shirts and other trappings of wealth, she was just standing with Eric, her friend. She hesitated before she jumped into the gap, resting her hands on the narrow vee of his waist. His body radiated heat underneath her hands, all the hotter now because he wasn’t wearing his jacket and shirt. “Were we going to lie down?”
“Absolutely.” He stroked his thumb over the apple of her cheek, his gaze on her lips. “Were we going to sleep?”
Heat flashed through her body, stronger and more insistent than what she’d felt in the car. Then, she’d been nervous about leaving the twins and the flight. All of that was behind her now—but the flight had left her drained. “We had a rough landing, Eric. And I don’t get to nap very much. Let me just...” She stepped in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her nipples ached as they brushed against him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Dear God, she’d missed the feeling of a man. “Will you hold me?”
His arms did not come around her and for a paralyzing second, she thought he would say no. But before she could back away, Eric bent down and swept her legs out from under her, just like Steve had done to Meryl. “Eric!”
“I’ve got you,” he said close to her ear. It was what she needed to hear. More than that, it was what she needed to believe.
And, as Eric cradled her lovingly, she did believe it. She relaxed into his arms and let him carry her weight. “Pick a room,” he told her. “Mine or yours?”
She didn’t have to think about it. “Yours.” That way, if whatever this was didn’t pan out, she could go back to her own room and not have to smell him on her pillows.
She should not be doing this but she seemed powerless to do anything but let him carry her to the very big bed. “Do you mind if I take my trousers off? I don’t want to wrinkle them.”
Such an innocent-sounding request, but there was no mistaking the fact that he’d be one step closer to naked. That didn’t stop her from saying, “Go right ahead.”
He sat her on the edge of the bed and stepped back. She looked up at him—and not at the buttons he was undoing. He paused and touched her cheek again.
She couldn’t hold back the happy sigh. It’d been so long. She knew she was being dramatic but it almost felt like her first time again—and in a way, it was. Her first time with Eric.
Everything about her wanted to reach out for him, pull him in close and trust that he would be right there if she needed him, however she needed him.
Instead, she stood and undid her own button and zipper. The white trousers were more or less a total loss—the rain had seen to that. But she needed to be close to Eric right now, needed the comfort his body could provide. What she was feeling for him wasn’t just about sex. Not entirely, anyway. It was about something more.
She tried not to stare at his bulge as he shucked his pants, but it wasn’t easy because... Oh, my.
Grinning to herself, she kicked her trousers aside and gave thanks to Clarice, who had seen fit to include undergarments in her total wardrobe makeover. Instead of the serviceable cotton she normally wore Sofia had on a pair of high-cut silk panties with lace around the waist. They were a sheer nude color, all the better to be worn under a pair of white pants—and the first thong that she had ever owned. Clarice would hear of nothing else because she claimed that a visible panty line would just ruin the look.
Sofia felt exposed and vulnerable. But it wasn’t a bad feeling, she realized. Instead of anxiety, tendrils of anticipation uncurled through her limbs, making her body feel heavy and needy.
For him. For the gorgeous man waiting for her in a very large bed. He pulled the covers back and slid in first, patting the bed beside him. “Come here.”
Sofia had not had a wild adolescence. She’d been raised in a fairly strict religious household that frowned upon casual dating and sex and besides, an accidental pregnancy would have made achieving her goals harder. She had been a virgin when she’d started dating David. She’d never been in bed with anyone else.
Except for now. Was there any turning back once she slid next to Eric and put her arms around his waist? Was there any hope of holding a part of herself back so she wouldn’t fall in love with him all over again? Because if she were lucky, this...connection would last the weekend—and not a moment longer. A weekend was long enough to have some fun and reclaim her sexuality with Eric’s help without it blowing up in her face. For a few days, she could pretend she belonged not only in his life, but in his bed.
A weekend would be enough. It had to be.
Eric’s gaze drifted over her camisole, her bare legs. His eyes darkened and he held out his hand for her and she knew there was no turning back. She scooted over to him. He pulled the covers up over them and settled her in the curve of his arm. She wrapped her own arm around his waist and slung her leg over his. And then, for the first time in what felt like months, she exhaled. “Eric...”
“Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “Just rest for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.” And although it didn’t seem like she would be able to—not with their bare legs intertwined, not with his arms around her—Sofia closed her eyes and drifted off, feeling safe and, somehow, that everything was going to be all right.
* * *
Eric felt the moment Sofia slipped off to sleep. Her muscles relaxed and she sank into him, warm and soft. It was strange, how easy it was to hold her like this. His body hummed at a high pitch, attuned to everything about her. The softer she got, the harder he got.
Was he preparing for one of the biggest business meetings of his career? Was he looking toward the future at all? No. Instead, all he could think about—feel—was the curve of Sofia’s breasts pressing against his side, her smooth leg thrown over his. She was wearing a see-through thong, which meant there was next to nothing between them. He could feel the heat of her body against his hip, smell the warmth of her skin.
This was torture, plain and simple. And he’d suffer
