Innocent in New York (14 page)

"I'm starting to understand your fascination with this room," Agnes said, marveling the chandelier before sweeping her gaze to the grand piano. "There's just something about it. Like an energy here."

"Yes!" Sophia nodded, happy her friend seemed to see it the way she did. "There was this French couple visiting and they stayed here," she said, "and the woman became completely enthralled by the room. She didn't want to step her foot outside of it. Her husband came down and asked me for help, and I got him a big bouquet of red roses and told him to make sure he handed them to her on the balcony. She fell in love with the city."

"How many roses does it take to get you out of here?" Agnes joked, and Sophia stuck her tongue out at her.

"A million, at least."

"Or James," Agnes opted with a wink.

"That might work, yes," Sophia sighed, and began on her piece of chocolate cake she had ordered the second Agnes wanted to go to Monroe. She moaned. "
Try
.
It
." She motioned toward Agnes's plate. "I think Jean Claude has outdone himself."

"Sorcery!" She leaned back in her chair with a smile. "You have to thank James for letting me stay here. This is incredible." She opened a bottle of wine and moved upstairs to the smaller lounge. Sophia connected her phone to the speakers and turned up the volume. "So, you and James," Agnes started. "You've barely kept me updated about him!"

"I'm afraid you'll accuse him of being an Illuminati member," Sophia said with a pointed stare.

"There are always triangles or pyramids when I read about him, plus he goes to a secret club! And I swear I saw the eye of Horus in an article about him," Agnes said exasperated.

"Perhaps he likes Egypt, have you thought of that?"

"No. Does he have animal skulls in his home?"

"Aside from that skull above his shrine atop a pentagram?
No
."

Agnes rolled her eyes. "Okay, let's say he's not an Illuminati member."

"I promise to investigate," Sophia said. "In fact, I'll go visit him right now and do a proper inspection of him — in case he has ominous tattoos hidden on his chest —
and
his home."

"Oh, you'd love that." Agnes stuck her tongue out at her.

"I'll ask if I can take pictures, you know, for investigation."

Agnes paused her glass by her lips. "Yeah, just in case. You never know! You might just be worshipping the devil."

"In his case," Sophia sighed, "it'd be worth it."

"Sophia Marie Campbell, are you listening to yourself?"

"You think he's part of the Illuminati! Are
you
listening to yourself? Also, my name's not Sophia
Marie
."

"I added it for a dramatic effect." Agnes crossed her legs. "
Fine,
" she said. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"Trust me, there's nothing to worry about." Sophia stood up and headed for her phone. She called and ordered a bartender to their room, to Agnes's glee. When Agnes laughed wholeheartedly at something silly they had done, Sophia could finally relax. She'd rather kill herself than lose this gem.
 

James's fingers kneaded her flesh while his lips nipped at her neck, making her dissolve under his touch. Another rough shove and her back arched beneath him, her breasts rubbing against his chest.

Her breathing turned rougher, her fingers dimpling the skin of his strong arms. His lips seized hers, demanding her attention while his pace quickened. She'd barely walked through the door to his apartment when he had picked her up and his hands haven't left her body since. She hadn't seen him for days, and they wasted no time, leaving a line of clothes in a telltale path toward his bedroom.

He bit her bottom lip, just until it bordered on painful, and then soothed it by sucking on it. Nerves responded to his every touch, and she felt her heart race faster and faster. She looped her legs around his waist and moved with him. Hooking her hand behind his neck, she pulled him close so that she could kiss him. Rock-hard abs pressed against her stomach and she basked in his firmness, his way of making her feel both captured and freed at the same time. He delved into her harder, his strokes a firm male gusto that left her breathless. Sophia sunk her teeth into his bottom lip, and she heard a low sinful rumble from his chest that shot straight to her core. Completely overcome by him, she moaned, and when he reached a hand up to tug at one of her nipples, she shuddered beneath him as white-hot pleasure engulfed her.

He cupped her head and kissed her softly after their climax died.

"Hi," Sophia said, catching her breath.

He smiled down at her, eyes crinkling with mirth. "Hi."

At Herrera's Palace, Sophia tried to muster up courage to face Chris. The fact that he was blackmailing her made her more and more upset. Asking James to give Chris
two
million
dollars made her see red. She was supposed to have it by today. He'd sent her a text with a reminder, but when waking up nestled in James's arms, she was damn sure she'd never been able to even hint of a project, much less beg for money. She'd survive somehow. She could always beg her former boss at
Pleasure Dungeon
to take her back. The thought alone made her shudder. She loved Herrera, and it had grown into a second home.

"Of course, Mr. Cooper. I will have everything ready by then. You're welcome!" Sophia hung up, and glanced down at the list she'd jotted down. She had to plan a presentation for a successful game developer who wanted to showcase a new inventive 3D experience. She decided to wait before calling in help for monitors and sound until after talking with Chris. He had the chance to redeem himself.

She wondered how Chris would react to her standing up against him. Would he go ahead and fire her? She hoped the spineless creature was smart enough to know when to back the hell off.

"Everything okay?" Agnes asked, touching her shoulder.

Sophia looked at her, finding the bright lit smile of the brunette. "It will be," she said, slipping her phone into her pocket. Agnes frowned, but didn't stop her when she left the desk.

At exactly twelve-thirty, Chris sauntered inside Herrera's Palace, the way he always did after lunch; never a minute late, never a minute early. She swore he stood outside and counted the seconds.

"Sophia," he addressed her. She waited for him.

"Chris."

"My office."

She didn't give a hint of a smile, just a curt nod. She followed him through a long hallway to the black door at the end of it.

He sat down in his ridiculous designer chair, engulfing his narrow frame, and motioned to the simple backless chair in front of it.

"I assume you were successful and got James onboard?"

"Then you assume wrong. I haven't asked James for his money. I won't sink that low. I won't let
you
make me sink that low," she said. "This is your project. If you can't get the support that you need, how will you manage a larger hotel and all that comes with it?" Sophia shook her head. "No, I haven't succeeded, not by your definition anyway."

Chris's lips tightened, pursed in that way he always did when something didn't work out as planned. She knew his reactions before they happened. "I need that money."

Sophia didn't budge. "Get it then."

"I need it from James."

"Get it from someone else because there's no way I'll let him near your project." She suspected James would understand the pitfall that was Chris either way and deal with him, but this was
her
problem alone. "You have something good going here. Continue the way you have done and people will trust you. Banks will trust you."

"Did you forget our deal?" he asked, leaning over his desk.

"No," she shrugged, "I didn't."

"Get me my money or you're through here. Your choice."

Sophia's gut tightened, but kept her calm from leaving her outer shell. "You make it sound as if
I
owe you something. Have you forgotten all the work I've put in here?" she asked, almost surprised by the strength in her voice. "The never-ending hours satisfying
your
guests, and the trust I've built with them for you? My days are always longer than yours and not once have I complained. I'm taking a few days off," she stood up, "and you'll see how completely
useless
you are when it comes to the most important part of your business — your guests."

He stood up and put his hands on the edge of the desk. She could see his knuckles whiten from the way he gripped it.

Sophia gave him a smile but made no comment. She didn't know why she didn't call him on his bluff at once. He'd crumble and break before Monday.

She walked toward the door and out, never looking back at the rat. She withdrew her phone from her pocket and grinned when seeing that her phone had successfully recorded the meeting and Chris's threats. She headed to her desk, slipped on her coat and picked up her purse.

"Sophia!" Agnes gaped at her. "
What
are you doing?"

"I'm going home early," she stated.

Agnes didn't have the time to respond when visitors needed her attention, though shock was still written upon her features as she tried to type something onto her computer.

---

A hand touched her stomach, sliding over the lacy material of her dress. "You look amazing," he breathed as his nose brushed her ear.

"Thank you," she said, voice shivery. "Where are we going?" If he kept standing this close to her she wasn't sure she'd want to leave her apartment.

"Nova."

She turned toward him. "Nova…" What was on his mind? Sophia's mind flew to those secret rooms, those lustful moans and beautiful people.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "Come." He took her hand, and she followed at once into the chilly night. She didn't bother with a jacket, didn't bother to go back and get her purse, or even lock the door; Agnes would return from the store soon and knew she'd be out with James.

---

"You seem different today," he said, his hand on her thigh, his thumb stroking a spot just beneath the hem of her dress. He flicked a glance her way before focusing on the road. "Something on your mind?"

"I think I feel different, yes," Sophia decided.

"You won't tell me why?"

"Make me forget today, and I just might tomorrow."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I'm up for the challenge."

The dark gray monstrosity of a building seemed quiet, but Sophia was certain the interior wasn't. They walked up the grand stairs to the door and James let them inside.

"Before we move on," he kept her from walking, "I must take something from you."

Sophia watched him take something out of his pocket; a blindfold made of silvery silk and black lace, matching her lacy dress.

"My sight," she responded.

He moved to stand behind her, a comforting hand on her waist. "I promise you won't be disappointed," he murmured, drawing the blindfold in front of her face. She sucked in a breath when her vision went black. After tying it in place, he moved his hand to hers.

"They're expecting you."

They
? Sophia swallowed audibly, letting him lead her through the hall. Murmurs and soft music grew louder, the air warmer, eliminating the autumn bite from her skin. The voices seemed to grow more hushed, she realized. She moved her head this way and that even though it was pointless. Two women close by admired her dress in hushed voices, and she could feel someone touch the lacy fabric when she felt colder air caress her thigh. James walked inside further and fingertips skimmed her thighs, touching bare flesh.

"Careful." His fingers moved up her arm, his thumb light against the sensitive skin of the inner part of her elbow. His grip strengthened. "Stairs."

Taking measured steps, she was glad he'd reduced the pace.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her hand unsteady on the railing.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he let go of her. She drew in a breath, feeling oddly sensitive to the unknown in front of her; to the dip of the stairs behind her. She stepped away from the stairs and to the side, her fingers light on the railing. A whisk of air brushed her arm, and her head turned toward the movement.

"James?" she whispered his name. She could hear drapes flutter nearby — perhaps someone leaving a room after a naughty session, or joining one. A myriad of laughs came from below and she turned toward the sounds.

"Do you trust me, Sophia?" he asked, his voice behind her somewhere.

"Yes," she spoke, breathless.

"Do you trust me with your pleasure?" Both his hands looped her waist.

He always left her delirious, pushing her boundaries and always with spectacular results. He knew how to get her off better than she did herself. "Of course I do."

He brushed her hair aside, the small touch of his fingers against bare skin made her shudder with small bursts of pleasure. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, pausing there a moment before he spoke. "I'm going to share you tonight. I won't take part, but you can be damn sure I'll be in the audience watching their every fucking move."

"
What
?" Sophia tried to turn, but he jerked her back to him again, keeping her immobilized. She felt the railing in front of her and grabbed hold of it, her pulse pounding.

"Even if you beg them to fuck you, I won't allow them."

Sophia's breath stuttered, her heart a rapid beating drum in her chest.

"Everyone's eyes are on you, Sophia," he murmured by her ear. "Are you ready?"

He tugged her hands and fastened them in his grip behind her back, making her arch and gasp. It was dead quiet; all remaining was the last wisps of a dying song in the intimate setting she recalled from her first time visit. While one hand held her wrists, his other moved to her thigh, stroking her, squeezing her flesh.

"You had them completely enthralled," he said only to her, "from the moment of your first visit. I want to give them a taste."

To have them watch her,
touch
her. She couldn't control the shiver take her body. He evoked the view from her first visit, of the woman inside that room perched on a man's lap while received pleasure until she lost all control. The idea struck something in her.

Chest heaving, the rush of blood pounding in her ears making her feel lightheaded, Sophia let her weight rest on James.

"Good girl." His breath skimmed her neck, and he let her arms free.

She let him lead her inside a room where she could hear murmurs, reminding her of the masquerade party she went to not that long ago; the buzz of voices, a laugh in-between, glasses clinking, and identities hidden. James brought her further inside and the voices simmered down. She felt their gazes, could picture them taking in her shivery form.

"Watch your step," he said, and a little clumsily she walked up onto what she guessed was a stage. The type she saw that evening?

Sophia wanted to see, if only just a quick peak, reaching her hand up to the mask.

"Don't." James's instruction made her halt, and next her hand dropped by her side. "I'll tell you when."

She nodded, glad he'd take at least some part in all of this. The vibrant sound of the zipper of her dress opening spooked her, but a kiss to her neck made her soften again. Initial coldness swept over her frame when James tugged her dress off. Next she felt him pop her bra open and it tumbled off her shoulders. She immediately covered her exposed breasts.

"Hands at your sides," he instructed.

Breathing out a puff of air, she did as he told her.

His hands followed her sides to her hips where he paused for a moment, edging his thumbs into her panties, and she took a moment to absorb the feel of him because he'd soon let go. She touched his arms, feeling his muscles through his shirt.

"Hands at your sides, Sophia," he said, the resurfaced command a caress to her skin. His breath skimmed her neck and awoke small goosebumps in its path. She carefully let go of him and he proceeded to tug her panties down her legs. "One word," he whispered to her, "and I'll take you away from here."

"Yes," she nodded, understanding.

He gave her a small nudge, and next someone else's hands were on her, easily lifting her up and carrying her. Her shoes toppled off her feet, the sound loud in the black space. She tensed in this new person's grasp. He sat down in a chair, and positioned her on top his lap, her back against a hard, male torso.

"Nervous?" the stranger asked.

Sophia kept her legs tight together, hands clutching the armrests. "No."

He seemed to wade through her lie when he gave a small chuckle. He grabbed her ankles and lifted so that her feet touched his knees. Parting his legs, hers fell open. Everyone could see her. Her heart drummed faster when his fingers skimmed her sides, closing in on her breasts.

"James," Sophia mumbled, not sure why she said his name. She was adjusting to this new person, to this new experience.

"He's here," he spoke gently, "watching you. Everyone is."

He cupped her breasts, kneading them in his palms, but avoided direct contact with her nipples. "Relax," the man whispered against her neck. He caught the tips of her breasts between his fingers and rolled them. Pleasure shot through her, her body arching into his touch.

"You liked that." He nipped her ear, adding a bit more pressure on her nipples, bordering on painful. He soothed them with his thumbs, releasing the ache, making Sophia tremble. She couldn't decide whether she was happy or upset when he let go of her tender skin. He let his hands trail lower.