CHAPTER TWO
SOPHIE
My eyes widened. Even though this was his kind of place, I hadn't expected him to be here.
"Well, look who we have here, Mr. Weekly Warm-Up," I blurted out sarcastically before I could stop myself.
"Mr. What?" His amber eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What are you doing here, Sophie? Shouldn't you be home preparing the files for tomorrow's presentation?"
Of course, even now, he had to give orders. My lips curled into a bitter smile. "I'm here for fun," I said, the words almost breaking as they left me. "I can have fun, can't I?"
He studied me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face, then trailing down to my trembling form, my shaky legs, and my pouty lips. "Is this really you, Sophie?"
Andrew must've been right when he called me boring. That could be the only explanation for why the word fun sounded so foreign coming from me.
"Are you okay?" His voice softened, and concern etched itself onto his face.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I stared into his eyes. The golden glow of his irises pulled me in, casting a spell I couldn't resist. It felt... good. Comforting to have someone care.
But my gaze betrayed me. It drifted lower, lingering on the partially unbuttoned shirt that revealed the ridges of his toned chest and the hard lines of his abs. Even though I'd seen him like this before, he looked impossibly better now. My eyes caught the faint outline of his tattoo, more visible this time.
Then they dropped lower.
The unmistakable bulge in his pants held my focus—a sight I should have been used to but which now sent a pulse of something entirely different through me. Memories I'd fought to bury came flooding back. The day I walked into his office, catching him with not one, but two women. His face was buried between the legs of a brunette Asian lady while another knelt before him, her mouth wrapped around his cock.
The thought made my nipples ache. Just like they had that day, but I successfully ignored it.
But this time, I couldn't ignore it. Not with the ache of being starved for touch for over a year. My body felt like it might combust. Images flashed through my mind of what it'd feel like to have his head buried between my thighs. My legs shook beneath me, and I felt a fluid burst through my core, dampening my panties.
Fuck! I was wet.
"Do you need something, Sophie?" His voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I hesitated, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. My mind screamed for me to stop, to leave before I embarrassed myself further, but my body refused to listen.
I stumbled, falling against his chest, my hands gripping his arms for support.
"Careful," he murmured, his deep and husky voice sending a warmth through me that Andrew's kisses hadn't ignited in years. His hands moved to steady me, and that's when I felt it. His palm rested firmly on my breast.
He realized it almost immediately and pulled back. "Sorry about that."
My stomach twisted painfully at his retreat. Did he not find me attractive? Was I tasteless and boring, just as Andrew said?
I needed to know.
Leaning closer, I stood on my toes, bringing my lips just inches from his. His amber gaze bore into mine, as though he could see every filthy thought racing through my head. Thoughts of him pinning me down, holding me in place, driving me wild with pleasure.
"Mr. Gray," I murmured, watching his eyes flicker. "Do you find me attractive?"
His gaze darkened, and he gave a curt nod.
"Can you…" My voice caught, but I forced the words out. "Can you fuck someone like me?"
He smirked, shrugging slightly. "It depends on what's between a woman's legs, Sophie. That's all I need. Why are you asking me this?"
"Because…" My voice lowered as I leaned closer. I could feel his hot breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I saw his gaze drop to my chest, his pupils dilating when he noticed the hardened peaks of my nipples pressing against the fabric of my dress.
He bit his lip, and I knew it was the perfect time to ask what I needed.
"I… want you to fuck me. Please… Mr. Gray," I whispered.
Before I could think better of it, my mouth was on his. I didn't know who moved first, but the kiss was desperate, passionate, and filled with all the longing I'd kept buried for so long.
I kissed him like I belonged to him.
I wanted to do everything to please him. Mr. Gray was a casanova, a man who had women at his beck and call, effortlessly drawing them to his bed. I had always believed his charm would never work on me, that I was immune to his spell. Yet here I was, kissing him like I belonged to him, right in the hallway of a public bar—while my husband was upstairs, screwing his secretary.
My tongue moved with his, and I pulled his hand to my body, desperate for his touch. When his hand finally moved on its own, grasping my breast and giving it a firm and hard squeeze, a wave of pleasure shot through me so intense it made my eyes roll back. My legs shook when his hand shot to my back, trailing down my spine before his fingers dug into my ass.
It had been over 365 days since I'd been touched—explored—like this. And it was everything I craved.
"Please… Please, fuck me," I managed to whisper between ragged breaths.
His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Gladly."
He lifted me into his arms effortlessly, like I weighed nothing when I had lived with the constant complaints from Drew that I was fat and heavy. Mr. Gray kissed me again, his tongue exploring mine as he carried me out of the bar.
As the world tilted around me, a dangerous thought crossed my mind.
This was exactly what Andrew deserved.
Then everything went black.