Hanging On (9 page)

Sophia slept. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, not in that room and not with Drew. She woke later with the vague sense that all was right with the world even though most of her front was freezing cold. Drew had curled his body around her backside, holding her close with one arm draped over her waist. Her head was pillowed on his firm bicep. The soft glow from the recessed lighting reflected from the lines of his arms, evident even in rest.

She reveled in the feel of him for far too long.

This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t allow this to happen. The only possible outcome for becoming emotionally involved was heartbreak and lots of pain. Just thinking about it hurt. She did not like pain of any kind, especially not the kind that wouldn’t go away with a couple of aspirin.

As if he sensed her withdrawal, Drew woke. The hand on her stomach began to move in slow, gentle caresses. She picked it up and gave it back to him. “You need to get dressed and go home.” Without waiting for a response, she slid to the floor and dressed. She threw his clothes on the bed next to him.

He sat up, unembarrassed in his natural state, and watched her. “Are you angry with me for some reason I don’t know about?” Sophia frowned as she finished dressing without looking at him. “I’m not angry with you. You did fine. The scene is over. I have plans tonight.” Finally, he pulled on his jeans and shirt. She leaned over to grab the extra, unused condoms, but his hand on her wrist halted her actions.

Unauthorized touching set off alarms in her head. He hadn’t learned. He had only humored her.

“With the man who was here earlier?”

“Yes.”

“Sophia.” He brought her hand to his lips, but she snatched it away before he could kiss it. His eyes widened in shock. After what they shared, he thought she was his.

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She had to show him he was wrong. “We’re finished for the day,” she said. “You need to leave.”

His lips parted to say something, but he rethought whatever he might have said. He nodded thoughtfully, never taking his eyes from her. She hoped he couldn’t see the panic or the utter lack of control she felt.

“Will I see you again?”

She managed what she hoped was an offhand smile. “We’re dancing tomorrow night, remember? I figure you’re going to be stuck with either Samantha or me.” She hoped Sabrina would pair him with Samantha. They were both tall and fair-haired. Sophia and Ty were both darker.

Aesthetically, the four of them matched better that way. However, one could never tell with Sabrina. She wasn’t the kind of person to stick her nose in another person’s business, but she wasn’t exactly predictable, either.

Drew sighed, but didn’t force the issue. “Yeah, I remember. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She closed and locked the front door behind him. Groaning, she rested her forehead against the hard wood. She stayed that way for far too long.

Her domination of him had failed. He hadn’t responded to anything she did to him by submitting. He put up with it, he played the game, but his heart wasn’t in it. The only thing she did that got to him was masturbating while he was restrained. Somehow, she knew she would have elicited the same reaction if he hadn’t been tied up.

He was dangerous. Now he was gone. It had to stay that way. She couldn’t keep this up until the wedding. That man would destroy her.

* * * *

Drew sped along the interstate, heading in the general direction of his house. Sensual Secrets wasn’t located too far from his home, and he needed to stop in to make sure they had the supplies they needed in order to fulfill their catering contracts for the week. He needed a shopping list.

He could have assigned the shopping to any of his employees, but Drew preferred to choose the ingredients he used himself. If something wasn’t right, he altered the menu for the event. Clients who chose to work with him were required to sign a contract permitting reasonable substitutions. Drew’s reputation assured an excellent meal, and most clients signed without
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complaint. Those who refused were encouraged to contract their catering elsewhere.

However, fresh produce wasn’t on his mind as he navigated rush-hour traffic in the heavily populated Oakland County. That honor went to the chestnut-haired vixen who rocked his world and kicked him to the curb.

Her manner after sex was mechanical, impersonal. Sophia had shown more care and concern two days prior when she cleaned her come from his face before handing his clothes over and instructing him to dress.

At least he wasn’t as sore now as he had been after she finished with him Saturday night. She had gone easy on him. After watching her with Livia, he knew she had it in her to hit much harder than she had.

She knew he didn’t enjoy it. He’d meant to hide it from her, but he failed. This presented a problem. Sophia enjoyed—maybe even needed—

disciplining her sex partners. Drew hadn’t known how long he could keep up a façade of enjoyment. Now he did, and he was disappointed in himself.

He couldn’t have lasted more than fifteen, twenty minutes under the sting of her lash.

There had to be another way to do this. There had to be a way he could have Sophia and she could have a willing slave who loved being dominated, bound, and disciplined. Drew didn’t mind being tied up, and he didn’t mind being tortured sexually. The problem came when she introduced the ideas of pain and submission into the equation. It just didn’t work for him.

It didn’t stop him from enjoying himself, but it didn’t further his pleasure, either.

With a sigh, he parked behind the bakery next to Ginny’s BMW. It was unusual to see her there that late. She was responsible for opening things up and overseeing the baking aspects of the business. Drew’s clients usually wanted service in the afternoons, so he was frequently required to work in the afternoon or in the evenings.

The familiar sounds of the kitchen greeted Drew as he opened the door and stepped inside. Sniffing the air was an automatic response, as was the mental dissection of the spices contained in the smell wafting from the stove.

Something was off.

His sensitive nose led him closer, to a pot filled with a simmering tomato-based sauce. “What the hell is this?”

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Sophia’s cold post-coital response contributed greatly to his soured mood. The sex had been fantastic for both of them. How could she brush him off as if they hadn’t just shared something profound?

A five-and-a half-foot-tall fireball flew across the room. Maya, his
sous-chef
, hustled over to shoo him away with one hand. “It’s not done.”

“Too much garlic,” he said. “It’s ruined.”

“I’m cooking for Italians. They have a high tolerance for garlic.” Drew’s eyes narrowed. Everything that left the kitchen carried his name and rode on his reputation. If he didn’t approve of something, it wasn’t going anywhere. However, Maya, who was a whole year out of culinary school, had her own opinions, and she seemed to like arguing with him.

More than once in the past six months, Drew had regretted making her the kitchen manager.

“That crap isn’t leaving my kitchen, Maya, not for any ethnicity.” From the way her eyes narrowed in response, he knew the fight was just beginning. Sophia had thrown him out of her house, and she was probably at that moment dining with another man, and there was nothing he could do about it. Given the easy manner he’d observed between them that afternoon, she was no doubt entertaining him in her little room, or even in her bedroom.

If Maya wanted a fight, Drew was more than ready to deliver. He had angst, jealousy, and frustration to spare.

The shouting brought Ginny. Drew and Maya both ignored her.

She parked her hands on her hips, and her cute, little cheerleader smile turned icy. “I have a client in the bakery whose amusement over the noise coming from here has turned to serious concern.” Maya blushed and stared at the floor, embarrassment superseding anger.

“I’m sorry, Ginny.” She didn’t offer an apology to Drew, her actual boss.

Muttering under her breath, she killed the heat under the pot and dumped the sauce.

Responding to the curt jerk of Ginny’s head, Drew followed his business partner into the hallway that separated the bakery from the kitchen.

At one end was a lone door that neither of them liked using. The stairs behind led up to a shared disaster area bearing the title of “office.” While both Ginny and Drew were world-renowned in their fields, neither of them was very organized when it came to the business side of their business.

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Lifting a stack of unopened mail out of a chair, Drew threw it on the cluttered desk and sat down. “Don’t start, Gin. It didn’t smell right.” Ginny waved away his opening. “That’s not what’s bothering you.” In the fifteen years he’d been friends with Ginny, Drew had never once voluntarily sought her advice on anything relating to women. The pair had commiserated, sure, but he’d never asked her for her take on a woman or a situation, and he didn’t intend to start now. Of course, that never stopped Ginny from voicing that opinion.

“Spill,” Ginny said, emptying another chair and sliding it closer. “You spent the afternoon with Sophia, and now you’re in a bad mood.” He leveled an even stare. “Don’t you have a client downstairs?” Tilting her head, Ginny’s mouth scrunched, and one brow rose in confusion. “No, and neither do you. Stop stalling.” Her comment had been designed to shut Maya up, nothing more. Drew exhaled in relief. While a lost client or two wouldn’t kill them, he didn’t want his reputation smeared for any reason.

His mouth twisted with bitter jealousy. “Sophia has a date tonight.” Ginny nodded and stated the obvious. “And not with you.” Drew jerked his head in assent.

“That’s funny.” Ginny grinned, but she didn’t laugh. “Usually, the shoe’s on the other foot. I recall you doing the same thing to lots of women over the years, Drew. Now you’re upset because you’ve met one who won’t put her entire life on hold just to see you.”

“He was over there when I got there, Gin.” He ran a hand through his hair, his default gesture for any emotion he didn’t particularly like. “She slept with me, and then kicked me out so she could go out to dinner with him. How long have you known her?”

Ginny shrugged. “A few months. She’s Sabrina’s friend.”

“How well do you know her?”

This time, she shook her head. “We’ve had drinks a few times, hung out, but nothing touchy-feely. I’d put her more in the ‘acquaintance’

category. As much as Sabrina likes Sophia, I don’t think she knows her very well, either.”

Drew’s brows knit together. “She’s standing up in Sabrina’s wedding.”

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Ginny shrugged again. “Sabrina doesn’t have many close friends. I think Sophia is good friends with Ellen and Jonas, and that’s why Sabrina feels closer to her.”

It was useless to pump Ginny for further information. His shoulders slumped.

She slapped his knee. “Cheer up, buddy. I’ll do some digging and see what I can find out for you. From the sound of it, I think you met your match.”

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Sophia worked the next day. She hadn’t planned to work, but Jeremy, her jerk of a boss, called at five in the morning. Anna, one of his full-time accountants, had gone into labor a week early. They weren’t quite caught up enough for her to be gone yet. Since Sophia chose the three days she worked each week, it wasn’t a big deal.

Daniel’s birthday dinner had gone well, and she had stayed out far too late. Several more hours of sleep would have been nice, but that wasn’t going to happen. Once she woke up, she was awake for good.

“I’m taking Friday off,” she informed Jeremy as she strolled into the office a half hour late. She could have been on time, but she decided against it.

“No, you’re not,” he said without looking up from whatever he was reading. “And you’ll stay a half hour later today to make up for being late.” Tall, blond, tan, good-looking, and athletic, Jeremy Monticello had it all, and that was his problem. He thought his looks were a free pass to treat women as chattel. Most of the women in the office nursed little crushes on him and let him get away with pretty much anything. He’d say,
“Get me a
cup of coffee, sweetheart,”
like adding a false and demeaning endearment made up for the fact he asked a woman with an MBA to wait on him.

He made the mistake of asking Sophia once. She poured a cup of coffee for herself and returned to her desk. Since she hadn’t wanted coffee, she wasn’t drinking it. He thought to take it from her desk, so she spit in it, smiled her deadliest smile, and said something not very nice.

Most men who considered themselves dominant weren’t jerks. They showed a woman, or a man, respect and care. Sophia’s problem with Jeremy wasn’t that he was dominant. Ellen and Jonas were two of her best friends, and they were both Doms. There was a difference between dominating

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someone for mutual pleasure and dominating someone to grind them down and keep them in their place.

She used to want to get Jeremy under her whip to see if he was sexually submissive, as were many men who were dominant in a professional setting, but she abandoned those fantasies. His appeal faded quickly.

She shook her head at Jeremy. “Prior commitment, sweetie.” She could be a jerk, too, but only when provoked. After working under him for a year, just the sight of him provoked her. “And that wasn’t a request.” He put down the file he had been perusing and followed Sophia to her desk. The open design of the office meant all eyes were on them, waiting for the show. He followed her behind the desk and leaned against the side to block her access to the drawer where she kept her purse. She plopped it on the desk and leaned next to him. Their backs were to everyone else, making them look more like colleagues. From the way his jaw ticked, she knew it bugged the hell out of him.

“You’re treading on thin ice, DiMarco.”

“Am I?” She wondered just how far she could push him. After dealing with Drew yesterday, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with another man who wouldn’t submit. “Then fire me.”

Jeremy exhaled a long breath. “You’re one of my best accountants. I put up with your shit because you’re good. But you are replaceable, Sophia. If you don’t show up on Friday, then you don’t have a job.”

“Then I guess tomorrow’s my last day,” she said. The only reason she hadn’t quit already was because she couldn’t be the one who walked away from this battle. She turned around and addressed the office. “Tomorrow’s my farewell party. I’ll bring the cake.” Productivity for the day was highly compromised. Everyone spent their time planning what dish they were going to bring and speculating on whether Sophia was fired or quit. She spent the day working. While she wouldn’t miss working for Jeremy, she would miss her job. She loved working with numbers and solving problems. Numbers were predictable and reliable and honest. Frequently, she preferred accounting to having sex.

Though she hadn’t planned on it, she did work the extra half hour. She hated leaving something unfinished. She knew she’d spend the night obsessing about that last project. That meant she didn’t have time to change before dancing lessons.

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Sabrina was waiting by the door to the studio to direct the wedding party to the right room as they came in. She gasped when she took in Sophia’s smart skirt and heels. “You didn’t have to dress up for this.” She, of course, looked even better.

Sophia smiled and accepted her hug. “I came from work. I didn’t have time to change.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks. She blushed more often than anyone Sophia knew. “I thought Tuesday was the day you had completely free. It looks like I’ve really messed this up.” Sophia squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. It was unscheduled.”

Sabrina brushed an invisible strand of hair away from her eye and peered up at her friend. “I put you with Drew. Jonas said that was probably best for everyone involved, but I’m not so sure.” The friendly expression on Sophia’s face didn’t change. She hoped.

“Why?”

“Jonas seems to think you’re dominating Drew, but I’ve known Drew for a long time. He’s not a submissive.” She didn’t have to say the rest.

Sophia had already failed with Drew. She just didn’t know the temperature of the situation.

“It’ll be fine,” she assured Sabrina. “We’re both mature adults.” Of course, telling Drew their experiment was finished didn’t go as planned.

“Why?” He whirled her around the floor, comfortable with the dance from the moment the average-looking female instructor demonstrated the moves with him. Sophia was no slouch herself. It didn’t take much time or practice to find an easy rhythm.

“You didn’t enjoy the scene,” she said. Why did he need a detailed explanation? He had been there, too. “I don’t think the whole Dom/sub thing is for you.”

“I agree,” he said, “but I fail to see why that means we can’t still see each other.”

“Drew,” she warned without missing a step.

“You look incredible tonight, Sophia. I can’t believe you dressed up to break my heart.” The warm, strong hand on Sophia’s back pressed her

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closer. Inches separated their bodies, inches she wanted to close. “I think you want me to beg.”

“No, I don’t want you to beg. I’m not into playing head games like that.

I’m a dominatrix, Drew. I really like control and submission and whipping.

It’s who I am. It’s what I need in a sex partner.” She refused to use the word

“relationship.” Though she had made things clear from the beginning, Drew was a boundary-pusher. The lines had already blurred for him.

“You can still tie me up, Sophie, and do whatever else you want. I’m open to any kind of sex you want to have, and any kinds of toys you want to use. I just don’t enjoy the whipping.” His head dropped the slightest bit to direct his husky whisper closer to her ear. His lips brushed the outer edge.

Her knees weakened. “I did, however, enjoy watching you work over Livia.

You mentioned threesomes. I love threesomes. There is a perfect solution here.”

Shivers shimmied up and down her spine. “Wasn’t last night enough for you?”

“No. Do you need proof?” Hard proof his desire hadn’t dimmed was inches from her abdomen. “What are you doing tonight after we get out of here?”

He regarded her with a smug smile. He knew the way he affected her.

He was too adept at reading her body’s reactions. She took great satisfaction in being able to deflate his ego. “I’m seeing Livia.” The hand holding hers and the one on her waist tightened painfully. It was his only reaction, but it was enough. He wasn’t the only submissive in her life. “Is she bringing a date?”

“That’s none of your business.” Under no circumstances would she tell him that she was meeting Livia for drinks. She needed to talk to her about what Drew said. If Livia wasn’t happy with their friendship, Sophia needed to know.

Drew pressed his lips together so hard the area around them turned white. “Stupid question. She always brings a date to you.” He said nothing more the rest of the night, and his eyes avoided her face. When the lesson ended, she bade farewell to the rest of the group, apologizing for not keeping the evening free to go out for drinks with them afterward.

Ellen followed Sophia to her car. “Sophie? Is everything all right?”
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Sophia opened the door and threw her purse inside before giving Ellen undivided attention. Ellen had been there for her from the beginning. Sophia had never kept an important secret from her. “Yeah, why?” Ellen studied Sophia in that way she had of dissecting people. Sophia used to find it unnerving, but then she learned to perfect the technique.

While Ellen was perceptive, she relied more on making people spill information than on discerning it for herself. “Drew bothers you. I just want to make sure you’re all right. Do you want me to talk to Jonas about you standing up with Ty instead? He’ll understand if you’re not ready to try something like this.”

Sophia shook her head, the denial coming before she thought about it.

Watching Drew dance with anyone else would have been worse torture than doing it herself. She didn’t want to feel the way he made her feel, but she didn’t want to watch him working his magic on anyone else, either. “I can handle Drew.”

Ellen’s lips pursed in a way that said she didn’t believe Sophia, but she wasn’t going to challenge her. “If you need me, I’m here. You can call me anytime.”

Without waiting for a response, she hugged Sophia tightly. Sophia hugged her back with equal emotion. Almost five years ago, Sophia had been raped in the parking lot near Ellen’s club. She had been underage, but her boyfriend was older. He tried to get her into the club. When that failed, he shrugged it off, and they went back to his car and made out. He didn’t stop when she asked him to.

When he finished with her, she ran into the alley behind the club, which probably wasn’t something she would have done if she hadn’t been so distraught. He came after her as if they had only argued, his hands spread wide in apology. Sophia pounded on the nearest door.

Ellen happened to be in the hallway near the door and heard the noise.

The door opened, and Sophia fell in, clinging to Ellen in terror. She didn’t clearly remember everything that happened after that. She remembered bouncers watched over Charlie until the police arrived. Ellen went with her to the hospital and held her hand through the entire ordeal. She had been too ashamed to call her parents or Daniel.

Other than emotional trauma, nothing was medically wrong with Sophia, so the hospital released her. Ellen drove her home. At the time, she

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had lived in a tiny apartment with three other college students. Sophia never expected to see Ellen again.

She called or stopped by every single day. She didn’t do it from a sense of guilt. The parking lot belonged to the city, not her club, so there were no liability issues. She helped Sophia find the courage to tell her family what happened. She held Sophia when the news came that the case wouldn’t go to trial due to lack of evidence. She had been relieved she didn’t have to testify, but the fact he was going free made her feel violated all over again.

By chance, the door she pounded on at the club that night opened to the members-only portion. Sophia caught a glimpse of the main room as Ellen ushered her to the public part of the building to await the police. As their friendship developed, Sophia asked Ellen about what she had seen. Ellen’s explanation was candid. That kind of control appealed to Sophia like nothing else ever had, and she had been looking for a way to reclaim control of her life.

Ellen introduced Sophia to Jonas, and he became her mentor.

After a year, Sophia no longer felt guilty, but she didn’t feel in control of her life. She started at Ellen’s club, hoping to salvage what was taken from her. It worked, and she was loath to tamper with the formula.

Drew didn’t fit into any of the molds she’d created in her life, and that’s why she’d needed to end this thing with him. Livia did, and that’s why Sophia needed to talk to her.

They met at a coffee bar midway between Livia’s house and Sophia’s.

Livia was dressed in white slacks cut to show off her long legs, and a peach blouse that coordinated perfectly with her makeup. As always, she was immaculate.

Sophia, however, suffered from spending all day dressed as an accountant. Her clothes were wrinkled from sitting so long, and her feet were sore from dancing in the wrong kind of shoes. She wasn’t in the best mood when she joined Livia.

One of Livia’s pale brows rose. “Tough day?”

“Long day,” Sophia corrected as she poured four sugars into her coffee.

“We can do this later.”

Sophia recognized Livia’s nervousness. If she had more energy, she might have teased the information from Livia so that she would never
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suspect Sophia had spoken to Drew. “It turns out that Drew Snow is friends with a friend of mine.”

Livia fiddled with the handle of her purse, probably wishing she still smoked so she would have something to do with her hands. “Is he?”

“Yes. We’re standing up in a wedding together.” Relief flooded into Livia’s face. “Oh, I’ve finished with him, Sophia.