“Mmm.”
“You actually requested a prototype for the book?”
She nods, her cheeks flushed. “I couldn’t resist. It was supposed to be a surprise at the pitch, something we’d throw in as a gesture of goodwill. It’ll only have ten sample pages, of course, but it’s a great prototype.”
“You’re such an overachiever.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” she says.
A tendril of her hair has fallen over her eyebrow, curling at her cheek. I brush it away. “Sophia.”
“Yes?”
“Have dinner with me the night before the pitch.”
Her eyes widen. “In the fancy dining room?”
“At a restaurant,” I say. “Let me take you out on a proper date before…”
“Before it’s too late?” she says, a rueful smile on her lips.
“Yes.”
Her hand rests on the side of my neck, and she traces the edge of my jaw with her thumb. “It would help me take my mind off this really important work pitch I have the next day.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? A terrible client?”
“The worst,” she says. “He’s so demanding, and heneverseems satisfied.”
“Sounds like an asshole.”
“Yeah, he demands perfection. Even describes himself as someone who won’t give less than a hundred and ten percent and probably expects it from everyone else.”
“Pretentious bastard,” I say, and move down her body. The silk of her skirt is now ruched around her waist.
“He can be hard to please,” she says, and runs her fingers through my hair. “But I think I’m learning how to.”
I kiss the inside of her thigh. Warm skin, soft skin, smelling like her. “Well, if he’s displeased with you, he’s an idiot.”
“I’ll have to remind him of that,” she says, voice breathless, “after the pitch meeting.”
“You should.” I push my arm beneath one of her thighs, grabbing a hold of it, and open her up for me. Her black panties are edged with lace. “Maybe you should focus on teaching him how to please you instead.”
Sophia’s breathing picks up, and in my peripheral view I see her arm curving over the back of the couch. “I think I could do that.”
I savor the moment I pull her panties to the side. Revealing her to me, to the room, a view I’ll never tire of.
“Only way to stop you from thinking about work,” I murmur, and lower my mouth. Sophia gives a shaky laugh and threads her fingers through my hair. “Give it a hundred and ten percent,” she says, “and I promise I’ll forget I’m even employed.”
I give it a hundred and twenty.
21
SOPHIA
Isaac’s standing by my door. The navy suit looks casual on him tonight, unbuttoned and no tie. It’s made more domestic by the cat streaking against his leg.
“Is he always this friendly?” he asks.