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“Almost done,” Matt said, his hands moving around the computer keyboard and lighting board with a swiftness and a confidence that Sophie loved.
“No problem,” she said, wishing he’d take a little longer. She loved just sitting here in the same room with him.
Couldn’t wait until she wouldn’t have to use school as an excuse to be close to him.
Taking advantage of the time he’d just given her, Sophie studied Matt, the man who was going to be her next—and last—lover. His hair was black, a little long, and full enough to make her want to run her fingers through it. That was one of the first things she’d do when she finally had the chance to really touch him.
His shoulders were broad, his arms strong enough to easily carry her up those stairs she’d just climbed. She’d seen him without his shirt once, last year when the electricity had gone out due to a storm and it had been hotter than hell in the theater. They’d had a show that night and shows must always go on, so they’d worked right through the heat, getting sets ready, booms hung and the cyclorama put up. All the technical stuff they could do without electricity.
His chest had been covered with crisp dark hair, his nipples taut on a set of pecs that were rock-solid and beautiful. His back was smooth, the muscles individually delineated, tanned.
Sophie got a little wet just thinking about running her hands along the back she was now staring at, stripping it of the brown corduroy shirt he was wearing tucked into the usual jeans. She continued her fantasy, seeing those shoulders above her, poised over her.
Matt would be a much better lover than Paul. Paul’s shoulders were almost boyish, his chest too thin, too bony. Matt’s ribs were solid, his abs firm. And his hips—
“Okay, you got the schedule done?”
Sophie blushed when he turned and caught her ogling him, and then, with new confidence gained from her enviably thin body, patted the sofa beside her. “Come and see,” she said, smiling with the right amount of innocence and seductiveness—as she’d practiced in the mirror all week.
She couldn’t appear too eager, or he might not respect her. Matt was deep; he’d only go for a woman who could meet him on that level. But at the same time, she didn’t want to discourage him. She had to let him know that when he was ready to make his move, she wouldn’t reject him.
Disappointment crashed through her when he rolled his chair over, still sitting in it, and positioned it in front of the couch. Until she figured out that if she shifted forward, their knees could touch. And their forearms, too, if she held out the schedule at a certain angle.
“I’ve got Daniel doing preset and teardown,” she told him, all business while they discussed the show she was managing that week. “That way, if he does any damage, we’ll be the only ones who have to know about it.”
“Good thinking.” Matt nodded, giving as much attention to her schedule as he had to his lighting design.
This was how she knew Matt liked her so much. He valued every single thing she did.
“What are you going to do with him during the show?” he asked.
“Have him on call in the shop in case of emergency, and toward the end, send him out for pizza and soda. A late supper for the crew before they begin teardown.”
“You’re good!” Matt gave her the half grin that always melted her insides, his dark eyes meeting hers with such intimacy she almost forgot what she’d been talking about.
They discussed a couple of logistical problems the man on the fly rail was going to need help with during the show—not enough to require a second person but something she’d have to compensate for with someone already on crew. They talked about who’d be doing the lights, who was on audio. She would be calling the show from backstage.
And all the while, Sophie was aware of Matt’s knee rubbing almost imperceptibly against hers. Aware of the sprinkling of dark hair on the back of his lean, strong hand.
Aware of those lips, so close to her own.
Someday she was going to make those lips smile. Really smile. Until his eyes reflected the joy he found in her. Thinking about the moment he experienced his first orgasm inside her, with her, Sophie almost couldn’t breathe. Her love for him hurt so much.
“…I’d really like you to think about it, Soph.”
She’d been watching his lips move, not listening to what he was saying. Figuring it was just more background about the show, she felt pretty confident she could handle that on her own. His abbreviation of her name had been what got her attention.
She loved it when he did that. As if they were intimate enough for him to assume that familiarity. No one called her Soph. She usually forbade it, as the name made her feel gargantuan—and taken for granted. Like an overstuffed piece of furniture. But when Matt said it…
“Think about what?” she asked when he fell silent, giving her no clue to what he was talking about.
“Speaking with Dr. Langford.”
Sophie stiffened, their future love life temporarily forgotten. “I don’t need a doctor.”
She was on top of things, more aware of her own body, more attuned to taking care of it than she’d ever been before. She knew the dangers of losing too much weight—and she’d watch for them if she ever got down to the weight she needed to be. Until then, she hadn’t lost too much.
“She’s not a doctor in the medical sense,” Matt said. His eyes were warm, caring, as he looked at her. It wasn’t a look she’d ever seen before. His concern was the nicest gift she’d ever had.
