Page 46 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Corbin

I unlocked the door to my room, cursing at the archaic manner in which I had to do so. My hand was shaking like an overexcited prom date who scored a hotel room for the night to get their cherry popped.

Sophia looked around nervously, muttering something about hoping Pam left on time today. I’m sure the flimsy excuse of helping me carry my luggage, one lightweight duffel bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush, wouldn’t hold much weight if we were caught.

I finally got the damn door open and pulled her quickly inside.

She let out a little excited squeak as I yanked her through the threshold.

I shut the door—the spring-loaded system preventing me from closing it as fast as I’d like—and pushed her up against it.

Here we were again, Sophia and I, in my hotel room. Except this time, I didn’t have to imagine what she looked like underneath those clothes. I didn’t have to dream about how her mouth tasted or wonder what sounds she made when she came undone.

My hands grabbed her hips and pulled her body into mine as my mouth found hers. Blackout curtains and the thick hotel door shut out the evening sun—and the world—from our endeavors.

When Sophia and I were together, it was easy to forget anything but her—easy to get lost in her touch, her moans, her taste—and forget the world burning around me.

Today was stressful. Andi was on edge, still angry with me for going behind her back and wary of the fact I surprised her like a “jackass-in-the-box” by coming into Misty Springs today .

I also learned from a colleague that Buzz had been meeting with an old accountant of Buescher Enterprises without my knowledge, one who retired years ago.

The flimsy rumor Cindy shared with me at the gala was starting to feel more solid.

My head was spinning, doubt was creeping in, and stress was attacking me from all angles.

We said we weren’t doing this again, that this stayed behind in my Manhattan apartment.

But I needed this.

I needed her.

I broke our kiss as dread hit me. I had quickly packed this morning, not thinking about us having a chance to be together again.

I was unprepared.

“I don’t have a condom,” I admitted, defeated.

Sophia shrugged. “I’ve had the implant since Landon. And not to kill the mood, but I got tested after… just in case—not knowing who all he’d been with besides me. I’m clean.”

“I’m clean, too,” I said, not going into details, but it was something I kept up with.

I was always careful—never letting my guard down, not around some of the women in my world. I never had sex without a condom—ever. Some women almost made it a sport to find ways to squeeze money out of men like me. There were plenty of honest women, too—the problem was telling the difference.

But Sophia’s honesty was bone deep—something about her burrowed beneath the surface of every doubt, every fear, every ache within me.

I kissed her again, deeper this time, my tongue meeting hers, relishing in the taste of my new favorite flavor .

Her hands dropped to my pants, working my belt loose. She was so greedy, so rushed.

I fucking loved it.

But I didn’t want to rush with her, not when these fleeting moments would be over quickly—too quickly.

I pulled back, breaking our kiss, a smile spreading across my face. “Always so greedy. ”

“I don’t have much time. I have to get to work,” she whimpered.

“I thought you were done with work,” I whispered each word between peppered kisses on her neck—pleasantly elated with myself as her body vibrated with pleasure.

“I’m done with this job. I have to get to Boomer’s next. Devyn will be at my place to pick me up in like thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes? That’s all I had?

There was likely an envelope with her official offer waiting on her doorstep. I was heading back tomorrow and then spending the next two weeks—through Thanksgiving, in New York.

This could be our last time together. The thought hit me harder than I thought it would. I waved those thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand.

“I can work with thirty minutes,” I said as I pulled her tucked-in shirt from her pants and brushed my hands over her stomach.

“Try ten minutes.” She winced. “I need to walk to my apartment first and get ready.”

“What if I drive you?” I growled.

“That’ll save us about eight minutes.” Her soft hands glided under my shirt, causing every muscle to twitch with excitement under her touch.

“Eighteen minutes it is.” I pulled her shirt over her head and crushed my lips to hers again.

I’d never been addicted to anything. I forced myself to be disciplined enough to fight against addiction, knowing I’d be prone to it. But as I kissed Sophia, my head felt light, my entire body thrummed, and I felt utterly and completely alive.

It felt like a high I wanted to chase forever.

She unbuttoned my shirt, our race against time rushing her movements. We moved in sync over to the bed, Sophia pushing into me until the back of my legs pressed against the plush mattress.

With a wicked grin that made my heart palpitate, she pulled at my belt in one swift motion. It clanged as she dropped it to the floor, her hands moving quickly to the button of my pants.

I liked control—craved control—but hot, greedy, forceful Sophia taking what she wanted from me was a new fantasy I hadn’t thought to dream up .

I let my body relax and allowed her to push me down on the mattress. She stood over me and forcefully pulled my slacks and my boxers down to the floor, releasing every inch of me.

Her caramel hair cascaded down her shoulders over her lacy bra as she leaned over me with her hands on my thighs.

She bit her lower lip as she stared at me—hard and ready—always ready for her.

“I think I should return the favor from last night, don’t you?” she asked with all the sweetness of a dominatrix.

She wet her lips and bent at her hips, her mouth inches from my cock. Her tongue darted out and licked my tip, and my brain short-circuited.

She wrapped her soft hand around the base and took me in her mouth. Her tongue swirled in a euphoric cyclone that made my eyes roll back in my head. She lowered her head, keeping her hand at the base, going deeper and deeper until I hit the back of her throat.

Yes, I’d give her control.

I’d give her anything.

I watched her intently, focusing on every detail and storing it in my brain. I wanted it there forever, kept on my hard drive like a lustful secret file, able to pull it open when she became nothing but a memory to me.

She looked up at me with a satisfied, lustful smile—her eyes watery, her lips swollen.

I quickly wondered how much time we had left, concerned that this may be the last time I could have her. I didn’t want to stop her talented mouth, but I wanted to be buried inside of her more.

I sat up, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her slightly back. She watched me with quiet anticipation, her eyes dancing with desire.

Her time of control was over.

It was my turn now.

I stood, towering over her delicate frame, and hastily unfastened her bra, dropping it to the floor. My hands made quick work of taking off her jeans, sliding them down her body along with her sexy little thong.

I tugged at my open shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and we stood there for a moment, both naked and primed, breathing in each other’s air .

Seconds ticked by, and we both shared a look of desperation, realizing that we didn’t have as much time as we wanted.

And not just now—not just before her next shift—not enough time to figure us out.

Simultaneously, we crashed into one another. Our kiss was a frantic barrage of teeth and tongue.

She bit my lip, and I lost the ability to think clearly.

I was unleashed. A primal hunger raged through me—there was nothing but her and pure, unfiltered need.

I threw her on the bed, her ass near the edge. The mattress was a perfect height for me to line up to her wet center.

I couldn’t wait any longer, officially reaching the end of my restraint, and I buried myself inside of her.

The feel of her, wet and unrestricted, was incredible. Anything—anyone—before her was forgotten, wiped away with each thrust.

“Sophia, you undo me,” I shuddered through my breath before pulling back and slamming into her again.

I looked down at where we connected. Watching as I drove into her over and over, how good she took every inch of me—another memory I would store forever in my brain.

This was not slow. This was not innocent. This was fast and heady, and sexy as hell.

She moaned my name as I felt her tightening around me, her walls closing in as she got closer and closer to release.

I held on, keeping mine at bay, though it was nearly impossible with how she felt around me.

I took my thumb in my mouth, moistening it before bringing it down to her clit. I pressed gently at first, before building up. Faster. Harder.

“Oh God!” she screamed as I felt her pulse around me, her walls contracting against my cock.

The feel of her release unraveled me, making me lose every last ounce of resolve before I erupted inside of her.

I fell on top of her, my feet still on the floor, our bodies on the plush mattress.

We lay there for a moment, lost in the aftermath of lust and need and broken agreements. I pushed up and looked down at her face, flush and lightly dewed with sweat .

She was breathtaking.

This beautiful, broken girl saw every jagged piece of me, every scar, every ache, and still looked at me like she was now—like I was her everything, like I was every bit a part of her as she was of me.

My mind wandered down a dangerous path, one that considered Sophia might decline the offer from Buescher-Jones Publishing—a path we could explore without me risking my bid for CEO.

But I learned long ago that you can’t force people to choose you.

I pulled out of her, my entire body protesting at the loss of her warmth. If I thought these rooms were haunted by Sophia before, they were now completely possessed, a phantasmal experience I’d never escape during my stays at Elijah’s.

We dressed in silence, me watching her, her watching me watch her.

Sophia peeked out the window, and an orange streak from the sinking sun beamed into the hotel room, illuminating tiny dust motes as they fluttered through the air.

“Coast is clear. Ready to run?” Sophia asked me with a grin.

I nodded, and she flung open the door. We darted toward my car like a couple of kids sneaking out past curfew, giggling and breathless.

We slid into the small BMW SUV.

Her cheeks tinged pink, whether from the cold, the excitement, or the mind-blowing sex we’d just had, I couldn’t tell.

She looked radiant—glowing in a way that made my chest tighten. She was adorable, and that thought alone startled me. I wasn’t the guy who found things adorable.

My hand reached for hers on instinct, our fingers entwining effortlessly.

I also didn’t hold hands. I never had the desire to, and I couldn’t remember ever acting on such an impulse. But with Sophia, it felt natural—like something I had to do.

When she wasn’t near me, I wanted her. When she was, I needed to touch her, hold her—anything to keep her close.

The drive to her apartment was quick—too quick—the engine's hum filling the silence. My mind welled with too many thoughts, all of which were impossible to articulate .

When we pulled up to her building, I let her hand slip from mine reluctantly as I shifted the car into park.

She turned toward me, her eyes meeting mine—big, expressive, and impossible to read. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, a move so innocently sexy it sent a jolt through me.

I’d never get enough of her . The obtrusive and uninvited thought popped into my head.

“Cassie asked me to stay at Elijah’s through Thanksgiving,” she said to the dashboard after turning away from me. “But you’ll be away until then, so I guess this is…”

She didn’t finish. Didn’t have to.

I turned my attention toward my hand as it tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

This was goodbye. Goodbye to any attempt to see if we could be something more.

Boss and subordinate, that’s it.

I nodded. The only part of me that moved. “Right.” The word came out clipped—shallow—like I couldn’t afford to let it dig any deeper.

“It’s probably for the best—the time apart. Once I start… It’s not like this could keep going.” She gestured between us with a casual flick of her wrist.

I turned and searched her face, desperate for something—a flicker of hesitation, a sign that she was as torn up as I was. Anything to prove this wasn’t as easy for her to switch us off as she made it sound.

“Sure,” I said, my voice low, hands dropping into fists in my lap. “We’ll be professionals.”

“So we’re aligned? It’s totally over now.”

Totally over.

Like we were nearing the end of a contract. No hard feelings—just business.

The finality in her words, the casual tone of her voice—they clashed hard against the memory of the woman who curled into me last night, soft and unguarded in my arms.

Maybe I misread it.

Maybe because I never let anyone in, the simple act of opening up made everything feel bigger—deeper—than it really was. Maybe I mistook my own vulnerability for something more .

“Yeah, agreed. We’re aligned,” I shot back, unable to stop myself. “I’ll be back in New York most of the time anyway. We won’t run into each other much. Not at all once the branch is off the ground.”

Her expression faltered, just for a moment, but she recovered quickly, her walls going up so fast I barely had time to notice the crack—or maybe that was just me pretending she cared.

She grabbed her bag and opened the car door. “Goodbye, Corbin.”

I silently let her go.

The shutting of her car door sounded jarring in the quiet cab, the air thick with my disappointment and her floral scent.

She walked away without looking back. I watched every step she took across the parking lot, every climb of her stairs until she slid behind her apartment door.

This was absurd—the tightening in my throat, the heavy stone I felt in my gut—this feeling of loss for a woman who was never even mine in the first place.

Throwing the car into reverse, I drove myself back to the office. I’d get more work done now that Andi wasn’t there to glare at me.

This was why I didn’t let myself get distracted. Letting someone in, even for a moment, threw everything off balance.

Things were off to a good start—no, a great start—for the Misty Springs branch. That was what I needed to focus on.

That was the goal. The plan. What I wanted.

Deviating from my life’s goal for a woman I hardly knew was not the objective here.

So why did it feel like I was driving away from my dreams, not towards them?