The Right Time (17 page)

“I know. You were a hit.”

“Except for beef stew.”

“It was the only thing that was off.”

“But they liked everything else.”

“They
loved
everything else. The food was delicious. Restaurant quality for sure.”

“The only thing I didn’t make was the apple pie.”

“You can’t do everything. And frankly, I’m going to that bakery tomorrow to get one for myself.”

She giggled, and he laughed again, a hearty, soul-lifting sound, and spun her around.

In the middle of the spin, his face changed, the expression of laughter easing away.

“There’s still pie left, if you want it.” His breathing became slightly irregular.

“I do.” The fingertips of one hand traced the wavy hair at the back of his neck. She had no right to touch him like this, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “I want it.”

The hands on the back of her thighs tightened a fraction and heat tugged at the apex of legs. She inhaled sharply and almost closed her eyes against the sensation. There was no other feeling in the world like being touched by him.

Right now she wanted him to kiss her. The anticipation was so keen, she edged her mouth closer. The instrumental music in the background acted like a soundtrack and increased to a crescendo. Aching tension built between them.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Ransom said, his voice sounding raw.

Her legs cinched around his waist, and with one hand at her bottom and the other at her neck, he moved backward and sat on the arm of the sofa.

Sophie settled onto the hard thrust in his pants, and they both groaned as their lips seared together. One hand lifted into her loose hair and cupped her nape. While her mouth moved over his, his thumb stroked the sensitive skin behind her ear. His moist tongue slipped between her lips and did a searching sweep of the mouth. He reexamined the interior, angling his head to take the kiss even deeper.

She sighed into his mouth and held on tight. His kisses were like heaven. She tasted the fruity wine and the sweet apple dessert. She tasted
him
, and the extent of her hunger forced her to shift her body so that she could center the ridge of his hard erection along the cleft between her legs.

She’d fought this feeling for so long. This painful, demanding ache for him. Only Ransom made her feel like this—so out of control, so desperate for his possession she wanted to scream with frustration and beg for him to take her all at the same time.

She undid the buttons on his shirt and lowered her lips to the exposed skin.

“I want to lick you here,” he said, pressing his thumb between her legs and hitting right on her clit. Just like a bull’s-eye.

She whimpered and licked his neck in retaliation. She kissed his ear and licked the lobe and earring. “I want to do the same to you,” she breathed, cupping the bulge in his pants.

He grunted and bit her bottom lip.

“And lick you here,” he said, dragging his thumb over her nipple.

“Yes. Please lick me there.”

Without another word, he lifted up and turned her onto her back on the sofa.

Maybe he’d wake up and this would all be a dream, but right now Ransom couldn’t believe Sophie lay beneath him.

Impatiently, he pushed up her shirt and sucked an erect nipple through the black lace. He dragged his teeth over the little button and she gasped, wiggling her curvy body against him.

He pulled the shirt over her head, hungry for more of her exposed skin, while she released the back clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts into his waiting hands.

“You have the most perfect breasts.” Ransom pressed the soft mounds together and dropped a kiss to her scented cleavage.

Everything about her turned him on. He adored her body, the amber skin versus the coppery tint of the tips of her breasts, the softness, the curves. With the palm of his hand, Ransom traced a line down the length of her torso, and she lifted into his touch. He showered kisses onto her skin, along the underside of her breasts and down to her stomach, drawing a moist circle around her navel with his tongue.

He groaned in frustration when he had to unbutton her pants. “Why’d you wear pants tonight? To torture me?”

She let out a breathless little laugh, and he went back to her mouth, moving his lips over hers in a deep, drugging kiss.

If she’d worn a skirt or a dress, he could tear off her panties and be inside her within minutes. Because that’s where he was desperate to be right now.

He burrowed a hand down her open pants, gliding over the soft curls to the warm, slippery spot between her legs. The breathless little mew she let out was a reward in itself. He imagined the moment when he’d slide between her legs and be enveloped right
there
.

Biting his bottom lip, he inserted his middle finger inside her and flattened the heel of his hand against her clit. Her mouth fell open and her eyes fluttered closed. Thrusting the digit in and out, Ransom rubbed his hand over her mound. She grabbed him by the head and purred, a sexy sound that sent shivers racing up and down his spine. Her fingers dug into his scalp, and her hips lifted into each thrust of his finger.

“Ransom.” That begging tone in her voice sent his mouth back to her neck. She arched her throat to his kisses while his hand continued to work inside her pants.

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Whatever you want, I’ll—”

The jarring, bell-like sound threw him off his rhythm. That couldn’t be the doorbell. It had to be his imagination.

The sound came again, and Sophie’s undulating hips went still. Her gray eyes, darkened with passion, widened as they stared into his.

No, no, no.
Who the hell was that? If he didn’t answer, maybe they’d go away.

Instead of going away, the person pounded on the door.

Sophie swallowed, and Ransom practically saw the desire drain from her face.

“Ransom, it’s me, Ryan,” his brother called on the other side of the door.

Ransom swore, dropped his head to Sophie’s shoulder, and reluctantly eased his hand from between her legs.

“You should answer the door.” She pushed his chest and forced him off her. While he rolled to his feet, she grabbed her shirt and tugged it over her head.

“Don’t move,” he said, but she ignored him and scampered off in the direction of the bathroom.

The doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming!” Ransom roared. He repositioned his hard penis and pulled the shirt over his pants to hide the bulge.

When he opened the door, Ryan frowned at him. “What took you so long?”

“What do you want?” Ransom asked.

His brother surveyed his rumpled appearance, and Ransom could only imagine what he looked like in the creased shirt with his hair a mess from Sophie running her fingers through it.

“Er, did I interrupt something?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

Ignoring the question, Ransom peered past him to the hallway. “Where’s Shawna?”

“She’s in the car. In our rush to get out of here with all that food, she forgot her purse. She said it should be on the floor next to the chair she sat in.”

Sure enough, Ryan found the black purse tucked under the table next to the chair leg. “Got it.” He held it up for Ransom to see and walked back to the door. “Dinner was great, by the way. Maybe the restaurant thing isn’t such a bad idea.”

“I’ll think about it.” Ransom rubbed the back of his neck. He was completely distracted and wanted Ryan out of there so he could get back to Sophie.

“Do that.” His brother stepped toward the door, but as he walked through, he cast a final glance inside the apartment. “By the way, tell Sophie I said good night.” He ambled away with a smile on his face.

Ransom shut the door and right away spotted Sophie’s bra half hidden under one of the pillows. He groaned inwardly. Ryan must have seen it, too.

“He’s gone.”

A few seconds later, Sophie walked out, clothes rearranged and hair smoothed down, but under the shirt, her nipples stood out like little marbles. Ransom’s penis jumped. He wanted those nipples back in his mouth, the urge so strong he forced his eyes from the tempting way they pushed against the material.

She swallowed.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, a swell of unease taking over the insides of his stomach.

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“I disagree.”

“Keith—”

“I don’t care about Keith,” Ransom growled.

“Well, I do. He’s my boyfriend. You and me…I don’t know what we are or what we’re doing.” Sophie pressed a palm to her forehead. “I’m afraid.”

“Of me?”

“No.” Sophie dropped her hands and looked around the room, as if searching for the answers. Her pained expression hurt, twisted like a knife in his chest. He hated to be the cause of her pain, the reason for her unhappiness. “Of me. Of this.” She pointed between them.

He waited for her to elaborate.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“You know what to do.” He went to her and cupped her slender jaw in his hands.

She stepped away from him, away from his touch. His arms fell to his sides but longed to touch her again.

“In the Bahamas, you said you didn’t want a relationship,” Sophie said.

“I never—”

“Yes, you did. You said relationships were too distracting and too demanding of your time.”

So much had happened since then that it seemed like the conversation took place ages ago, but she was right. He’d developed a motto after the breakup with Lisa. No commitments. No girlfriends. But spending time with Sophie made him reconsider. He no longer thought his life revolved around a square room morning, noon, and night, and there was more to life than hearings and legal briefs.

“I don’t feel that way anymore,” Ransom assured her.

“Since when?”

“Since you. You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know that, and I’m terrified that what we think we feel isn’t real. That it’s hormones or just chemistry, a sexual attraction that will eventually pass.” She sighed. “The truth is, you’re almost exactly like Keith.”

“I’m nothing like him,” Ransom said, a hard note to his voice.

Slowly, Sophie shook her head. “I’m not so sure. At least the way he used to be—driven, hardworking, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Those are wonderful qualities, but not when they’re taken to the extreme.”

“You expect me to just let you go?”

“I was never yours,” Sophie said quietly. She stared down at her hands as the sound of the music continued to filter though the speakers. “I made him a promise.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I promised I would give one hundred percent into repairing our relationship. He asked me for another chance, and I gave it. I intend to keep my word.”

“Sophie—”

“You’re making it hard to keep my promise. I’m going to stay away from you, and I need you to stay away from me.”

“No way.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“No more bike rides on Saturday. No more phone calls.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I mean it. Just forget about me.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

She bit her lip. “Goodbye, Ransom.”

She headed toward the door, but he grabbed her wrist. “You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s my mistake to make.” Sophie tugged away her hand and walked quickly out the door, leaving him behind in the empty apartment. Alone.

Ransom shuffled across the room and dropped onto the sofa. Lifting the bra from beneath the pillow, he crushed it to his face, and the scent of jasmine filled his nostrils.

How in the world was he supposed to forget her?

The Atlanta residence of Brit and Suzette Wong was located in an exclusive part of town that boasted homes starting at one million dollars. Every year, the partners of Abraham, MacKenzie & Wong invited their top picks from the four offices around the country, creating an opportunity for the chosen ones to mingle and confirm they were deserving of the partnership before the final vote took place.

The food served always followed a theme, and this year’s culinary choice paid homage to Brit’s Chinese roots. Among the options were spring rolls and cubes of honey-glazed BBQ spare ribs on beds of green papaya, circulated by wait staff moving unobtrusively among the guests.

Ransom was enjoying a walnut-crusted prawn, talking with a fellow attorney from the New York office, when Sophie and Keith arrive. He’d been watching for them all night, but barely took notice of Keith. After not seeing her for two weeks, Sophie had his undivided attention and took his breath away.

Her hair had been smoothed straight and pulled back into a tight ball. The dress she wore was exquisite, a simple black and white number, with a thigh-high split. It brushed the floor and fastened on the right shoulder. Bold red lipstick made her lips appear as soft and inviting as he knew they were. Large earrings dangled from her ears, but it was her eyes that caused a stampede in his chest. The gray popped and appeared particularly sultry beneath heavy, smoky makeup.

Ransom focused on maintaining rigid control, despite his hammering heart and watching Sophie and Keith with a mixture of jealousy and self-loathing. A faint tug in his belly appeared as they approached, deepening into a full-blown clawing sensation when she came to stand before him in a cloud of familiar floral perfume.

Introductions were made, and Sophie shook the hand of the other attorney present.

“Where’s your date?” Keith asked, his hand resting on the curve of Sophie’s hip. The question was directed at Ransom.

“I came alone,” he responded.

“Huh,” Keith said, as if pondering the answer. He nodded at the other attorney. “If you two will excuse us, there are some other people I’d like Sophie to meet.”

With his hand at the small of her back, he led her away to a small group that included his parents, near the fireplace, and Ransom realized Sophie hadn’t said a word during the brief interlude.

“Lucky son of a bitch,” the other attorney said. “He’s filthy rich and he gets to go home with her tonight.”

The skin on the back of Ransom’s neck crawled, and he watched Keith’s hand rub up and down Sophie’s back. A flash of memory came to him, of dragging his own hands up and down her spine, pulling her naked body on top of him to thrust up into her, and listening to her purr with pleasure as they made love.