Their mom patted her hand, casting a scathing glance at her son. “Oh, dear. I’m sorry about that. You should know I raised my boys to behave better than that. But I promise, we won’t bite.”
“Thanks.” Sophie put on her most endearing smile. “So, have you guys been here before? What’s good, Mrs. Becker?”
His mother opened the menu and looked at Sophie. “Call me Bridget, dear,” she said. “I’ve heard that the best dish is the strawberry and cream stuffed French toast.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Sophie said, snapping her menu shut. The waiter came over with a bottle of champagne and offered a glass to everyone at the table. Ryan’s mother accepted a glass and Sophie, eyeing Cameron’s drink, asked for a mimosa. Ryan had plain tap water.
When the waiter came back this time, they ordered. Sophie and Bridget had the French toast, Cameron eggs Benedict, and Ryan had a Cobb salad, hold the dressing.
When they were all alone again, Cameron spoke. “I hear that you’re a makeup artist. How did you end up doing that?”
So, it was going to be that kind of breakfast. Her father, the consummate interrogator, would have been proud. She was grateful when Ryan pulled her hand in his. It gave her the strength and confidence to face anything. “Back when I thought the entertainment industry was exciting, I dropped my major and switched over to that.”
Cameron caught the implication in her words.
“Are you that jaded already? You seem kind of young for that kind of cynicism,” he said matter-of-factly.
Sophie paused a moment, carefully weighing her response. “Sometimes I imagine doing something else, that’s all.” She hoped he didn’t ask what else she considered doing. Her painting was something she kept very close to her heart.
“Did you grow up in Los Angeles like these boys?” Bridget asked, cutting Cameron off before he could ask more probing questions.
Sophie nodded. “In the San Gabriel Valley,” she said, non-committally.
“Pasadena? I occasionally worked over there.”
Sophie didn’t beat around the bush for once. Evading questions about her background took more energy than telling the truth, and after the weekend she’d had with Ryan, she didn’t have the energy for evasion. “No. San Marino, actually.”
Bridget paused
, nodding knowingly. “What did your father do?”
“Mom, that’s enough,” Ryan said. “This is not the Inquisition.”
“We’re fine,” Sophie and Bridget said almost simultaneously. Sophie shot Ryan a look that said,
You got me into this
. She turned back to his mom.
“My dad is Harry Reid. He’s a federal judge in Pasadena,” she answered.
“You’ll fit in here perfectly, then. We’re a law and order family now. My Cameron’s a police officer for the LAPD, and you already know Ryan’s a lawyer.”
Sophie and Bridget got along like a house on fire. Once she passed Bridget’s test, the conversation flowed more smoothly. Sophie had worked on some of Bridget’s favorite shows, and was able to give her lots of harmless behind the scenes gossip that would set her cronies’ chins wagging. It was the kind of thing she used to impress out of town visitors, but now she knew it worked for the boyfriend’s mother as well. Sophie didn’t pause to think about the implication of boyfriend. It spelled commitment, and she wasn’t about commitment.
They talked for a good hour or so. The obvious tension finally eased from Ryan’s shoulders and he looked like he was able to relax and join the conversation. She didn’t know why he was so tense if he’d been the one to bring her to brunch, but maybe it was more important to him than she’d realized at first. Throughout brunch, Ryan stayed connected to her even when he wasn’t looking her way or talking to her. He rubbed her back briefly, relieving the tension gathered between her shoulder blades. He held her hand when it lay idle. He smoothed his fingers along her bare leg, ostensibly calming her, but doing more to make her think of what they would do to each other later.
After the room
emptied and they’d had a number of refills on water and coffee, Cameron looked at his watch meaningfully. “Mom, I have a late shift today, so we’ve got to get going if I’m going to get to the station on time.”
“That’s too bad. I was so much enjoying Sophie.” She turned to Sophie, grasping her hands. “You’ve been such a breath of fresh air. Brunch hasn’t been this interesting in a long time.” Bridget gathered a surprisingly fashionable white denim jacket around her shoulders. Its rhinestones glittered like diamonds. “You’ll have to come over for dinner sometime. I’ll make one of Ryan’s favorites.”
“I’d like that very much,” Sophie said with sincerity. She had enjoyed spending time with Ryan’s mother. Bridget was as different as could be from her parents’ contemporaries—who were constantly one upping each other with more expensive cars, ever bigger houses, and more extravagant vacations.
Ryan was quiet for the short ride back to her house. Sophie skirted the house, walking to the small backyard, and opened the back door to greet the excited puppy. Ryan sat under the patio umbrella, extending his long legs casually, crossing them at the ankle. When she finally sat, he turned to her, his eyes serious.
“Thanks.”
“For what? Your mom was great and your brother was nice, though he scares me a little,” she admitted.
“Cameron can be a bear sometimes. I think he takes his ‘cop’ persona too far, but he’s fiercely loyal to Mom. He does everything he can to make her more comfortable.”
“Is she still working?” Sophie asked hesitantly.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Not that it wasn’t a fight getting her to retire. But between Social Security and the two of us, we’ve got her covered. We can’t get her to leave the old neighborhood, though.” He curled his fist. “We tried to get her into a new condo years ago, but she’s got everything she could want out there, I think.”
Sophie patted his arm. His bicep tensed reflexively. “It’s good to see a parent-child relationship that works.” She looked off into the distance
, staring at nothing in particular. She tried not to be jealous when she met people whose parents so obviously cared for them. She knew deep in her heart that her parents loved her. But she would never have the easy camaraderie of Ryan and his mom—the nitpicking and constant criticism got in the way of that.
Ryan grabbed her hand
, intertwining their fingers. “Come here,” he said gruffly, hauling her onto his lap. “I’m sorry we had to end the weekend early.”
“It’s okay. You had to work.”
“It
was
work, Sophie,” he said with finality, dismissing any thoughts of rejection from her head. “It had nothing to do with us.”
She put her hands flat on his broad chest, ready to push herself off his muscular thighs. Why did he have to make it all so complicated? She was fine with just hot, mind-blowing sex.
He stilled her movements. “Don’t run.”
She settled more comfortably in his lap, though her heart beat a mile a minute. Of its own volition, her hand reached around him, stroking the vulnerable area at the nape of his neck. At his deep intake of breath, she started to pull back.
He sensed her hesitancy. “It’s okay. I love it when you touch me.”
She continued to stroke him, running her hand through the silky curls at his nape. “It’s not
…I’m not coming on to you…I don’t know.”
“It’s okay to want to touch me. I like the way you feel.” He
weaved their fingers, her small pale hand in stark contrast to his larger, tanned one. “I like holding your hand, knowing that you’re close by my side.” He laid their joined hands near his heart. She could feel each beat pulse beneath their fingers. Tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder. She felt overwhelmed. The sense she had now was indescribable—it wasn’t lust or passion, but something else she didn’t have the right to feel in a “no strings” relationship. Her emotions right now made her think of a future with this
lawyer
, and that wasn’t in the cards.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered into her hai
r, his breath moving the strands, tickling her scalp.
Sophie pulled herself up abruptly.
She darted her gaze everywhere but in his direction. If she looked into his eyes, she would see a reflection of his feelings. She didn’t want this from him. She didn’t want this from anyone. She shook her head, more vigorously every second. When she pulled away this time, he let her go. She stalked across the yard, leaning against the side of the garage. After a long moment, he joined her, leaning his shoulder against the wood siding.
“I’m sorry,” she said because she couldn’t say what she thought he wanted to hear.
He pushed her sunglasses up and leaned forward, kissing her with tenderness, warmth, and love.
“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I had any particular expectations. I just needed you to know how I feel about you. All I want is that we can keep seeing each other. I don’t want to spend my nights without you.”
Women got it all wrong. Lust was a lot easier than love. It was a pure, clean feeling with no expectations. He might think he was in love, but she was definitely in lust. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, as she wanted to be kissed, a frenzied mating of lips and tongues. She snaked her hands under his maroon knit polo, loving the smooth warm skin pulled tight over the corded muscles of his back and the smooth plane of his chest, but she couldn’t get enough. She put her hands into the oversized pockets of his cargo shorts, caressing his erection through the cloth.
He pulled his mouth from hers, his breathing labored. “We need to finish this inside.”
By the time they’d completed the short walk from the back yard to her bedroom, neither had a stitch of clothing left.
She wanted to give him pleasure. Blindly, she sank to her knees, lightly scraping her fingers down his chest as she went. She wrapped her hand around him, and sucked his cock into her mouth, loving the taste, the texture, the feel of this man. She pulled at him with her lips and swirled against the head with her tongue
, feeling his hips jerk involuntarily with almost every movement. She moved her other hand up his thigh enjoying the friction of the light dusting of blond hairs, and fondled his balls as gently as she could. He almost came apart at that moment.
He pulled her up. “Sunflower, I’m going to come too fast if you keep it up. Let me
…” He paused, stroking her hair from her face. “Let me make love to you.”
Just when she thought she’d put the past behind her, her nervousness and fear returned fourfold. She’d have been all right if
he just wanted to fuck her.
Make love
seemed more intimate somehow.
His hands sliding down her chest and probing her center brought her attention squarely back to the moment. He pushed first one finger into her, finding her slickness. Another followed. When he kneeled before her, she felt suddenly boneless, and fell forward using his wide shoulders to brace herself.
She was glad for the support when he pressed his face against her trimmed curls, and blew a breath against her sex. He hadn’t even touched the center of her and she felt like her heart was going to stop. Sex couldn’t kill a person, right? He pushed his head deeper between her thighs, using his tongue to lap against the sensitive skin of her nether lips. His fingers made love to her, pressing against the nerve bundle on her inner wall. Then he sucked the swollen bud of her clitoris between his lips, flickering his tongue back and forth across the sensitive nub.
Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. She gasped his name over and over as a flood of pleasure rolled over her. He retreated slowly, pulling her down to the floor for a deep kiss. Her smell and taste surrounded them, enveloping them in the heady musk of great sex.
She pushed him onto the solid oak planks, and pulled a condom from the bedside table, sheathing him first in latex, then with her sex as she took him in one deep plunge. He grabbed her hips and they found a rhythm that was hard and fast and suited them both.
Ryan pulsed inside her as he shouted upon his release, and Sophie was surprised to feel a smaller second orgasm hit her at that same moment. She fell forward onto his chest, their hearts beating in unison. After a few long minutes, he started caressing her back lazily.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he said, the timbre of his deep voice vibrating against her chest. His hand stopped the lazy circles he had been drawing on her back and came to rest against her hip, embracing her. He might as well have said those three little words again, the tone of his voice was such that she heard them anyway in everything he said.
She eased herself from him and started to stand. He caught her hand and
looked at her, his eyes serious. “I love you,” he said again with finality. The look in his eyes made her look away.
“Let me get this pink stuff out of my hair. Maybe we can do something fun with what’s left of the weekend,” she said flippantly over her shoulder. She closed the bathroom door and sank down on the closed toilet seat. What in the hell had she gotten herself into? She turned the shower on full blast. Steamy air fogged the mirrors. Happy she couldn’t see her own expression, she stepped into the scalding shower.
Ryan had just finished cleaning up in the guest bathroom and was zipping his cargo shorts when Sasha barked. The doorbell pealed a second time before the sound registered. He looked back toward the bedroom and listened
—the shower was still going. Well, he’d just have to answer it.