Page 41 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

I stood there, caught in an awestruck, gooey puddle, as Corbin’s words washed over me. Clearing my throat, I reached across the kitchen counter and grabbed his empty plate, busying myself to avoid the intensity of the moment.

The routine rhythm of washing dishes felt like a lifeline, grounding me as I filled the sink with warm, soapy water. I pushed the sleeves of Corbin’s oversized hoodie up my arms.

My heart fluttered at the quiet care behind Corbin’s actions in getting me clothes. He hadn’t waited for me to ask—he’d just noticed I needed something warmer and acted. No questions, no commentary. Just… instinct—and the fact he was so decisive and demanding was pretty damn sexy.

His muscled arm brushed against mine, and the tiny hairs on my arm stretched on end like they were reaching out for him.

I glanced up and found him watching me—his gaze unflinching. There was a quiet intensity in it, but something in the way his eyes lingered made my pulse stir.

His fingers brushed lightly against my hip. That same crackling energy from earlier—when he’d helped me light the burner—roared back to life, stronger and more consuming than before.

We’d both broken ourselves open and allowed the other to see all the messy parts—the parts we kept locked away from the world—and somehow, despite all of that, the need for him was stronger than ever.

“I can help,” he murmured, leaning down.

His voice was low and warm against my ear, and his breath skimmed my skin .

I closed my eyes, a shiver rippling through me. It was maddening how easily he unnerved me with the slightest touch, the faintest sound, the barest brush of his breath.

I did my best to bypass my hormones and shoved a towel into his chest. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

His rough hand grazed mine as he took the towel from me, his touch like a current, writhing up my arm and settling tight in my core.

How was everything he did so sexy?

We worked in silence, exchanging flirty smiles and lusty stares.

“Was there a second of all?” I asked, trying to break the silent tension.

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, you said, ‘ First of all, life isn’t about the things you acquire.’ Which would imply there were more of all’s to follow.”

He turned to me, setting the dried dishes on the polished countertop in a neat little stack.

“I was just going to add that you no longer have two dead-end jobs. You are about to have a rewarding and prosperous career.”

My heart lifted—and then splattered to bits in my ribcage.

True, I could now leave Elijah’s and Boomer’s behind for a career—a real career—in my dream industry with a publisher who worked with one of my favorite authors.

But that also meant closing the chapter on whatever was happening between Corbin and me.

His expression shifted into a quiet realization as if he’d just recognized that he’d unintentionally drawn attention to the elephant in the room.

“I know about Buescher-Jones’ policy regarding workplace relationships,” I admitted, begrudgingly pulling the metaphorical elephant out of the corner on a rope.

“Oh.” He tossed the towel on the countertop.

“Andi told me when I showed up for the interview. It was an idle threat to get Ned fired, but still, I know.”

He chuckled. “She hates that guy.”

I studied his deep-set, whiskey-colored eyes—the same ones that had pulled me in the moment I spotted him across the chaos of the airport. Now they were shadowed, his dark hair falling into them as he looked down at me—not styled, air-dried after his shower, looking disheveled and impossibly sexy.

“This job… this career. I need this,” I said softly.

I couldn’t pin my hopes on Corbin—on the idea of us . I’d made that with Landon—wrapped my identity around a relationship until there was nothing left of me that didn’t have his name on it.

And when it crumbled, so did I.

I couldn’t go through that again. I couldn’t lose myself so completely only to be left alone in the wreckage.

His lips twisted into a pained smile as if he knew everything I wasn’t saying.

I wasn’t going to choose him over this job.

A part of me wanted to ask why he couldn’t just change the damn policy. But after he shared so much of his life with me, I felt I already knew the answer.

He wasn’t just honoring a company guideline. He was creating a chasm between who he was and who his father had been.

I couldn’t risk the job, and he couldn’t risk his bid for CEO—not for something that hadn’t even begun. Not for something as fragile and undefined as this .

The space between us was full of what-ifs, regrets, and unquenched desires. As my ever-present need to avoid uncomfortable situations flared, I silently grabbed the plates and moved toward the wall cabinet to put them away.

The shelf was high, and I stretched on my tiptoes to add them to the top of the stack, straining as I extended my body to the fullest. These damn things were easier to get down when I pulled them from the bottom.

Corbin’s warm chest pressed against my back, his hands brushing mine gently as he took the plates from me. The mound of his biceps surrounded my head as he easily stacked the plates in place.

I turned in the cramped space between his firm body and the countertop.

We stood there, unmoving, eyes locked, teetering on the edge of a dangerous precipice.

My eyes dropped to his full lips, remembering how they felt on mine, how they felt trailing rough kisses on my neck, the way his stubble rubbed against my skin .

Any rational thought was melted away by the white-hot need coursing through me.

“I don’t officially start for a couple of weeks, though,” I breathed. My eyes shot back up to stare innocently into his. “Right?”

My words seemed to unleash something within him, and he wasted no time claiming my lips with his.

My back dug into the countertop at the force of his approach. His kiss alone was enough to ignite my body into nothing but molten need, craving more than what it was given last night.

He lifted me onto the counter, his warm hands crawling up the loose hoodie. His moan filled my mouth when he felt the absence of a bra.

He stepped back—eyes burning, hair wild—a confident smirk painted across his face. “As much as I want to take you right here in the kitchen, I have some things in mind that require you to be a bit more… horizontal.”

Without warning, he grabbed me by the waist and effortlessly tossed me over his shoulder in one swift motion.

I yelped when he smacked my ass as he carried me toward one of the closed doors on the first level, reaching into his pocket and tossing his phone onto the sofa.

“No distractions this time,” he promised, voice laced with sin.

I knew we were in his bedroom the moment his intoxicating scent surrounded me. It was a sleek sanctuary of masculine elegance. The oversized bed was covered in crisp white linens while floor-to-ceiling windows let in the city’s golden glow.

He kicked the door shut, throwing me down on the plush bed.

I crawled backward, moving inch by inch toward the headboard.

Corbin stalked up the mattress on all fours, hovering over me, following me move for move.

His perfect lips found mine again. Our tongues danced, tasting, exploring. He settled in between my open legs, the length of him pressing hard against me through his soft sweatpants.

My body ached for more.

As if he read my mind, his hands found the base of the hoodie, gliding it up my torso. I lifted slightly so he could pull it over my head, pulling the soft tank his driver purchased for me along with it .

His mouth trailed kisses from under my ear, down my neck, until he reached my chest, and I felt his warm mouth suck on the hardened peak of my nipple. He kissed and sucked, while his other hand squeezed.

I pulled at his shirt, working it over his head.

When I walked into his apartment earlier, I thought I had stumbled into the wrong building. I’d never seen Corbin in something so casual. He was infuriatingly sexy dressed down like this. The man looked good in everything he put on his perfect body.

I let my fingertips wander over the corded muscle of his arm, tracing the peaks and valleys of his chest before gliding down his abs—caressing each defined ridge—then slipping my hand between us, down to his waistband.

My hand palmed the length of him through his sweatpants, and he moaned a breathy moan into my chest.

I tried—and failed—to pull down his waistband, desperate to explore more of him.

He pulled up from my chest, and his swollen lips gave me another sly smile.

“So impatient.” His voice vibrated my skin as he peppered kisses down my stomach, his fingers caressing the elastic band of my pants. “But you’ll have to wait. I want to take my time with you.”

He shimmied my joggers down my legs, the cool air doing little to alleviate the flush burning across my skin.

Corbin was on his knees, hovering above me, his eyes raking up my body from my toes to the top of my head, the outline of his arousal straining against his pants.

I was completely bare to him, lying with anxious need. Too pent-up to feel self-conscious. Too turned on to feel uneasy.

A coiled spring just waiting to be sprung.

“I’d been mapping out your body from every stolen glance I’ve taken,” he said, kissing the inside of my ankle.

“Turns out my imagination is shit.” He kissed the inside of my knee next.

“You’re fucking beautiful, Sophia.” He pushed open my legs, and his final kiss landed exactly where I wanted it. Feeling exactly how I dreamed it would .

His mouth on me lit me up inside, stoking the raging flames to a near-unbearable degree. His expert tongue took a long, languid stroke, filling me before spiraling and flicking in a euphoric rhythm.

His rough stubble grazed my thigh, contrasting the sensitive strokes of his tongue in a beautiful balance between pain and pleasure.

My body was completely at his mercy. I was his to do anything with in this moment, and I would gleefully oblige as long as he didn’t stop making me feel this good.