Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
My orgasm starts as a shiver and builds and rolls through me. Trevor pounds into me without restraint, without control, overtaken by the rhythm his body sets, rattling the frames flanking us on the wall. In the grip of this tumult of sensation, I can barely hold on. My body tenses, bracing for the pinnacle. My heart races ahead. The thick muscles of his shoulders and in his arms supporting me tighten as he joins me, all his hunger, all his passion, flooding and filling me.
Finally.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Trevor
I’m so far gone over this woman. Henri would roll her eyes, deeply exasperated with me, but I can’t help it. And as good as Sofie looks in my shirt and nothing else, her shower-damp hair falling past her shoulders, it’s not that. Even that face and those long legs crossed as she eats the fish I made for her wouldn’t have me missing meetings. Her strength draws me. I love the unflinching way she looks, not just at the world, but at herself, the way she faces her mistakes and her flaws head on. She believes that even flawed, she can do good. Her willingness to change and evolve, but to never be less than who she authentically is. All of those things tighten the grip on my heart I don’t think she even knows she has.
“This fish is delicious.” She gestures to the panga I brought back just so I could prepare it for her. “Is this another of your mother’s recipes?”
“No, I had it at the Michelangelo in Johannesburg, and requested the recipe.” I rest an elbow on her dining room table, my chin on my fist. “Glad you like it.”
“I love it.” A smile takes its time spreading across her face. “Tell me how you came to break into my house two days earlier than I thought you would be back. We kind of skipped the conversation part of the reunion.”
When she smiles at me like that, we could skip it again, if it were left up to me.
“I finished everything for the Collective, and felt confident Harold and Henri could handle the rest of our meetings.”
“You skipped meetings?” She slows her chewing while she processes what that means. “To come back to New York?”
I get up from my seat and squat on my haunches in front of her, positioning myself between her bare legs, sliding my hands under the hem of my shirt to rest at her hips.
“I skipped meetings and came back, not to New York,” I say, answering the questions in her eyes, “but to you.”
Her smile fades, eyes dropping to her lap.
“Bishop.” Her whisper dances across my skin. “I don’t want to get in the way of what you need to do for the Collective. You deserve that position.”
“There’s something you should know about me.” I take my hands from under the shirt, sliding them to her lap, capturing her slim fingers between mine. “When the people I care about need me, I’m there.”
“I’m fine.” She shakes her head, slipping her hand behind my head to caress my neck. “I don’t want you putting all you’ve worked for at risk.”
“It’s not.”
Maybe it is. I don’t care what Thurston insinuated or what Hen said. I believe my record and my character will speak for themselves, and if they don’t, fuck it. I don’t want to lead an organization ruled by the same politics I have to work against to make a difference.
“I know you’re okay, Sof.” I push the hair over her shoulder, curving my hand around her jaw and forcing her to look at me when I bring up the bad news she told me earlier. “I also know it has to hurt that the Walsh board let you down. Has to hurt that your parents have turned their backs on you. It has to hurt that so many call your story into question because of things that have fuck all to do with what Kyle Manchester did to you.”
She holds our stare for a few seconds before pulling away, turning back to her plate.
“And how’d you get into my place?” She looks at me, telling me with her eyes she’s not ready to deal with all the hurts I enumerated. “No one can even get up here unless they’re on my list, much less inside.”
“A little birdie helped me with that.”
“A little bitch birdie named Stil, I presume.”
“That would be the one,” I confirm with a grin.
“No wonder she was so eager for me to get out of the office.”
“She texted me about twenty times.” I grin when my phone lights up. “Actually, there she goes again.”
“Tell her she’s on my list.”
My grin fades as I read Stil’s latest text.
“What’d she say?” Sofie takes another bite of her panga. “This really is divine. Make it for me again soon.”