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“Sophie, I...” He trailed off, swallowing, his eyes on her face. Just as she had earlier at the party, Sophie pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him.
“There are things we still
need to discuss. I know.”
Henry nodded and then dropped his forehead to her collarbone. “There is so much... Sophie, I want to tell you about the company and my father and Nicole –”
“Um, can we not talk about her when we’re,” she wriggled her hips beneath him and felt the slight twitch of his still semi-hard cock inside her, “like this? Please?”
Henry chuckled. “Okay. Though, we do need to talk. About a lot. You were right about some of the things you said, but...” He lifted his head and met her eyes. “Sophie, I need to think.”
She felt a small bubble of coldness bloom in her heart. She had thought she’d understood what he’d been saying, without words, while he made love to her. But perhaps she’d been wrong. Maybe this was just a ‘goodbye’ fuck. She almost winced in pain at the thought.
It must have shown on her face, because Henry’s hands cupped her head and squeezed gently. “Not like that. I’m saying this all wrong. Tonight has been...” He shook his head and then brushed her lips with his. “Overwhelming. All I’m saying is I need a little time to process everything before we have this talk. Do you understand?”
Sophie swallowed, trying to push the fear from her heart and mind. He was making sense. She had dumped a lot in his lap, showing up at the party out of the blue and throwing herself in Jorge and Nicole’s face, blowing up at Henry, proclaiming her love. He had a right to feel overwhelmed, and every right to ask for some time to process it.
Time didn’t mean he was rejecting her. She had to remember what she’d just felt in his arms. Sophie forced herself to meet Henry’s eye, give him a smile, and nod. “Of course. Why don’t we... maybe we can do lunch in a day or so. Once you’ve had time to think.”
She fluttered her lashes, trying to ignore the sting of tears at the back of her nose. She released his shoulders and began wriggling, trying to shift him off of her so she could get up and get dressed.
Henry’s arms tightened around her. “If you keep doing that we’ll never get back to my apartment.”
“W-what?” Sophie stilled. Henry released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The corners of his mouth ticked upward.
“You can be in the room while I think, Sophie. It’s getting late, and I’m sure you must be as exhausted as I am. Come back to my place. Stay with me. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Sophie felt her eyes widen as his words sank in. She’d thought he was asking her to leave him alone for awhile, but he was asking her to spend the night with him. Not that she hadn’t done that in the past, but he’d never asked her to.
Her breath caught in her throat. He wanted to talk. He wanted to open up to her, he’d said as much. And he wanted her near him. Surely, those were all good signs. Perhaps she hadn’t misread the silent messages his body had been sending her all night.
“Okay.” The word was barely a breath. It was all she had, because the warm glow of invitation in Henry’s eyes and the curve of his mouth had stolen the rest. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-four
The first pink light of dawn touching the New York City skyline woke Sophie in the morning.
She stretched, reveling in the sweet ache in her muscles. Henry had brought her to the penthouse last night, and they’d made love again, his big, hard body cradling hers as he spooned her, moving so deliciously slowly that her orgasm had seeped into her like warm water sinking into sand.
He’d breathed her name in her ear as he’d come, shaking against her back as he poured into her. His body had relaxed then and they’d both drifted off to sleep in minutes, still tangled together.
She was alone in the acres of bed now, though. Sophie had never known anyone who rose earlier than she did, but Henry was always up before her. Or, at least, he had been every night she’d spent here.
Which brought to mind her other mornings here at Henry’s. Would she leave the building crying again today?
Sophie knew it was a possibility. If Henry decided he wasn’t willing to open up, to take this risk for the chance of something more, it would break her heart. Now that she’d admitted she loved him...
No. Sophie refused to borrow trouble. She swung herself out bed, shivering a little as the cool air struck her naked body. Once again, when she glanced around the richly appointed room, there were no signs of her clothes. There was no way a maid had come in while they were sleeping. Not this early.
Had Henry put them somewhere? Last time he’d left her clothes in the bathroom. She hurried in that direction, wanting to see him again. She wished he’d been there when she woke. It would be nice to see Henry, face relaxed and sleepy, dark hair mussed. Her heart thumped at the image and her pussy gave a twinge of appreciation.
“Down girl,” she muttered with a chuckle. She’d think after the multiple, mind-bending orgasms Henry had given her last night that she’d be sated for at least a day. Apparently not. When it came to him, she was insatiable.
Her clothes were folded neatly on the bench beside the shower. Only, they weren’t her clothes. Sophie frowned. They were, actually, just not her clothes from last night. The black, stretchy pants were identical, but the t-shirt was white, emblazoned with the words ‘I Should Have a Follow Spot’.
It was the t-shirt she’d worn the first time she’d spent the night at Henry’s. That time, she’d shed it in the small parlor off his bedroom and the maid had gathered it up before she woke. Henry had promised to return it to her, but in all the drama that followed, she’d completely forgotten about it.
She fingered the soft fabric now. So much had happened since that night. Then, her biggest concern had been her knee. Now, she stood in almost the exact same place and was much more worried about her heart.
