Shake Her World (Restrained Book 1) (4 page)

Ariana’s eyes widen in shocked delight and her lips stretch around a bright smile. “Awesome!” She squeezes Sophie’s injured hand without realizing it, making the other woman suck in a pained breath. “Oh shit, sorry!”

“It’s fine, just finish bandaging it up so we can leave,” Sophie says a bit strained. “You’re right. I really need a drink… or ten.”

“I’ll buy you all the drinks you want.”

“… and him cheating isn’t the worst of it, you know,” Sophie rants, scowling into her empty shot glass. “Oooh no, it wouldn’t have even surprised me, because you know what he is? A Class A jerk. No, no, no, jerk is not a strong enough word for him. He’s a… a… help me out, Ari-aaaana,” she whines into Ariana’s ear, who only giggles and leans back against her.

“Jizz stain,” she offers with a snicker, barely noticing the strange look Casey, the bartender, soots her. “What? It’s a perfect description! Chris said so the other day.”

“Who’s Chris?” Sophie asks, frowning. “Boyfiend? Wait… that’s not…”

“Noppe,” Ariana shakes her head, ignoring the dizziness that washes over her. “Best fiend, damn, friend. I meant friend. And he said, and I’m quat… quoting him, he, and he meant that fucker Thompson, is disgusting, embarrasshing… and makes you un-uncomfortable just by looking at him.”

Sophie cracks up and nuzzles into Ariana’s neck, her sticky sweet and sharp breath wafting over Ariana’s sensitive skin. Ariana shivers and forces her kind of drunk body to ignore Sophie’s tantalizing presence. “Too true. He’s a huuuuge, dried jizz sh… stain.”

They laugh and Ariana orders another round. Casey shakes her head good-naturedly and pours them two shots of vodka. “On the house, girls,” she says, her soft, scratchy voice oddly soothing in the noisy bar.

“To getting rid of disgusting jizz stains, who sleep with kids!” Sophie raises her glass and clinks it against Ariana’s.

“And your punching skillz!” Ariana adds. “Wish I seen it.”

“He deserved it.” Sophie’s mood suddenly turns morose. “Sshould have seen that poor girl… she didn’… didn’ even know.”

“Should’ve kicked him in th’ nuts,” Ariana spits in disgust.

“She’s just a kid. Sev’nteen she said.”

“That’s sick. Fucker.”

“Kevin fired his sorry ass.” Sophie smirks darkly. “He’s never getting another job. Ever.”

“Good.”

Ariana has a good buzz going, but she’s nowhere near as drunk as Sophie by the time they get up to leave. Casey has called them a taxi, so they don’t have to wait around on the street in the dead of the night. They pile in the cab and Ariana gives her address to the driver without really thinking about it. She wraps an arm around an obviously woozy Sophie who leans against her and rests her head on Ariana’s shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Ariana leans her head back against the headrest of the seat, doing a poor job at not thinking about how great having Sophie in her arms feels. It doesn’t matter that Sophie is at least five inches taller than her or that it must be incredibly uncomfortable for her to fold herself under Ariana’s arm, because they somehow make it work.

She considers the pros and cons of taking Sophie back to her place as the ever busy city with its neon lights and faceless people passes by, then just thinks fuck it. She’s going to enjoy seeing this mellow if a bit depressed side of her boss as long as she can and if it means torturing herself by being close without touching, then so be it. She likes Sophie too much to pass up the chance to be near her and she wants to have the chance to see the nerdy, sweet woman who loves animals and silly slippers in real life instead of just her dreams. She looks down at the top of Sophie’s dark hair, petting the soft, springy curls while Sophie snuffles into her shoulder, probably already half-asleep.

The driver fortunately doesn’t comment, although Ariana notices him looking every now and again. When they pull up next to the renovated brick apartment complex Ariana lives in, she pays the driver with a quiet thanks and tries to wake Sophie up with little success. Sophie murmurs something unintelligible and tries to bury her head deeper into the crook of Ariana’s neck, causing Ariana to groan inwardly.

“Sophie, sweetie, you need to wake up,” she says softly, shaking Sophie’s shoulder. “We’re home.”

“Home?” Sophie asks, blinking her eyes open. “Dun’ wanna go home. It’s all shhh…”

“Quiet?”

“Yea that.”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“You?” She blinks a few more time in confusion. “You’re soooo pretty. Don’t leave me?”

Ariana doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s obvious that Sophie’s way too drunk to know what’s saying, but Ariana’s stupid heart doesn’t seem to care because it starts to hammer wildly. She swallows and nods her head. “I won’t. We’ll have a sleepover.”

“Loved sleepovers when I was little.”

“It’ll be just like that. But we have to get out of the taxi first.”

“Okay.”

It’s a painfully long journey up to the fourth floor. Sophie can barely stand let alone walk without tripping over her own or Ariana’s feet, but eventually they reach and even get into Ariana’s apartment much to Ariana’s relief. She leads Sophie to the couch, groaning when the older woman’s hand tightens on her shoulder, nails digging in to prevent her from getting up.

“Don’t go!” Sophie demands, glaring at Ariana. “I Want you to stay.”

“Just bringing you a glass of water.”

“Not thirsty,” she slurs leaning close to Ariana’s face as she wants to share a secret. “Your eyes… pretty like… like beetles.”

Ariana tries not to laugh because she knows it’d offend Sophie, but it’s nearly impossible. She had no idea her boss was such a lightweight or that alcohol basically turned her an octopus that can’t seem to get enough of touching Ariana. She’s only thankful that Sophie’s hands stay at safe places, petting her hair and caressing her face, and don’t try to wander lower to much more dangerous territory.

“You need to drink some water,” she tries again, but Sophie just wrinkles her nose.

“Water’s boring. Like Neil,” she says with utmost conviction and drops her forehead onto Ariana’s collarbone. “He’s such a freaking bore. Always talking about himself. And fucking fucking kids. Sicko.”

Ariana senses the change in Sophie’s mood even without seeing her face, so she gives up on trying to extract herself from those determined hands and sits up next to Sophie. Sophie just huffs, apparently too deep in her dark thoughts to really notice that her cheeks is plastered between Ariana’s breasts who hastily tries to move her.

“And he told me that I was no fun, always serious and working,” Sophie spits, suddenly angry. She lifts her head to look Ariana in the face. “Am I boring? No fun?”

“No,” Ariana admits honestly. Yes, her boss can be a slave driver and an inconsiderate asshole when it comes to work, but she’s far from boring. And watching her verbally tear people who deserve it to pieces is always pretty funny. “I’m pretty sure breaking his face showed him that.”

“I know, right? He was bleeding and whining like a piggy. Hurt my hand though.”

“Was still worth it, wasn’t it?”

“Hell yeah!” Sophie grins proudly for a second. “Should’ve taken his clothes and left him naked t’ be found.”

Ariana snorts at the mental picture. “I doubt Mr. Carlson would have appreciated it.”

“Yeah,” Sophie hums. “He’ll go t’ the media, jus’ know it.”

“If he has some brains on him, no, he won’t,” Ariana disagrees. “But you were right. The press will find out.”

“Hate this. I just wanna play with pretty codes. No parties and flashes.”

Ariana sighs and strokes Sophie’s hair soothingly. Despite her feelings, she’s never thought about what her boss might want, just assumed she was fine with leading a steadily growing company. She was always so strong, never showing the slightest hint of weakness that even Ariana believed that she was invincible instead of just hiding behind a giant wall of ice to hide her real self. Looking at Sophie’s tired face now makes her wonder whether things would have turned out differently if she’d reached out to the other woman sooner. Or maybe Sophie would have rejected her attempts at forming a friendship and retreated even more into her shell. Ariana will never know and maybe it’s for the best even if it had to be Thompson’s betrayal that brought them closer to each other and not a naturally blossoming friendship.

“Parties can be fun if you go with the right people,” she says instead of apologizing for things she shouldn’t know. “And my offer still stands. I can feed the press with a bunch of lines to make them confused.”

“Are you really such good friend?”

“I’m an awesome friend, just ask Martine.”

Sophie frowns. “She was hitting on me.”

“She loves to flirt and is totally shameless,” Ariana admits, hoping Sophie won’t flip out. She doesn’t, just leans back against the back of the couch and stares up at the ceiling.

“Must be nice,” she muses. “not feelin’ bad ‘bout yourself.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed off.”

“Don’t I?” Sophie cuts her a glare as if daring her to disagree. “My people are terrified of me. They hate me. My boyfriend cheats on me. I‘m a bitch. Not good enough.”

“Your employees are stupid. You’re great and your
ex
is a brainless shithead,” Ariana counters, earning a shy smile even if it’s obvious Sophie doesn’t really believe her.

“Still a bitch.”

“So am I. So what?”

“You’re awesome.” Sophie shakes her head only to clutch it a moment. “Ugh. Bad idea.”

“You should probably lie down. I’ll bring you a blanket and a pillow, okay?”

“Don’t wanna sleep.”

Ariana can’t help but smile at the way Sophie juts her lower lip out. “You don’t have to. Just lie down a bit. You’ll feel better.” She helps Sophie into a horizontal position, stroking back a few strands of hair from her face as Sophie blinks up at her sleepily. “Be right back,” she promises and goes first to the kitchen to pour a glass of water for Sophie than to her closet to take out the extra pillow and blanket she stores for Martine’s spontaneous sleepovers.

By the time she gets back to the living room, Sophie is out cold, her plump, dark lips open in her sleep. Ariana shakes her head fondly and, after placing the glass on the coffee table, carefully lifts Sophie’s head to slip the pillow under it. She covers the older woman’s body with the blanket, tucking Sophie in before she leans down and brushes a soft kiss against her forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispers.

Back in her bedroom, she doesn’t bother with changing into her sleep clothes just throws her skirt and shirt and thighs onto the floor next to her bed and slips under her covers in her underwear. She closes her eyes and allows sleep to wash over her, dreaming of velvety mocha skin, dark lips and blazing pleasure that leaves her breathless and aching when she wakes up next morning. And wishing it was real and not just a dream.

Sophie doesn’t get over her break up or fall in love with Ariana overnight, but they don’t go back to their frigid, strictly professional relationship either. They fall into a routine where Ariana shows up at work with two coffees and they drink it together while they go over Sophie’s schedule for the day. Ariana doesn’t call Sophie anything but Ms. Mason while at the office and Sophie is all cool aloofness like before, except there is a definite shift in the atmosphere between them, one they both equally seem to enjoy. Naturally, Sophie doesn’t turn into a different person just because she got rid of Thompson and gained a loyal ally and friend in Ariana. She’s still a demanding bitch who doesn’t tolerate bullshitting and laziness from her employees, but she actually takes Ariana’s advice and starts docking the Senior Managers’ salary whenever they send an intern or a newbie to her for a chew out because they mess up something. She’s always frosty when a reporter calls her and takes the call before Ariana can cook up some lie about Thompson.

But when Ariana is the one who’s handling the reporters there is always a small, amused smile playing in the corner of her mouth, because Ariana always has some outrageous lie to share with the press about Thompson up her sleeve. And she can be sure that one of those disgustingly immoral rags publish her stories turning Sophie into a tragic heroine without probably meaning to. As the days pass, they slowly become closer to each other and Ariana finally gets the chance to see the Sophie who still fills her dreams nearly every night.

They start to spend what little free time they have together, and while Ariana at first worries that Sophie is only using her as a substitute to fill the emptiness left behind by Thompson, she soon realizes that’s not the case at all. Sophie doesn’t have to pretend to be either a strong, iron-willed woman or a subdued shell around her, and once she realizes this, she starts to drop by Ariana’s place with soul-sucking computer games and wonderful home-made meals whenever she isn’t overworking herself or is dragged to somewhere by Ariana for a fun night out. So when she turns up at Ariana’s doorstep at half past seven on a Saturday morning about a month after their night out Ariana’s not surprised all that much.

“Hey,” Sophie says, strangely shy, when Ariana opens the door.

“Hey, come in. Coffee?”

“Always.” Sophie smiles and for the first time since her break-up with Thompson she actually looks relaxed and happy. “Oh, hello.”

Ariana almost walks into Sophie’s back who’s stopped at the kitchen’s alcove staring at Chris who’s munching on a bowl of soggy cereal in his boxer briefs. “Hi.” Chris waves a hand. “Sophie, right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something.” The smile melts off Sophie’s face, leaving behind only discomfort and a pinched expression Ariana can’t really understand.

“Well, my breakfast is probably furious that you interrupted its sad attempts at hypnotizing me, but otherwise I don’t think so?” Chris replies, grinning like he thinks he just said the funniest thing. “I’m Chris, by the way. Thanks, Ariana, for being a horrible host.”

Ariana rolls her eyes and slaps Chris on the back of his head as she walks over to the coffee maker. “You have a mouth, use it.”

“She was raised in a barn,” Chris stage whispers earning another slap. “Dude! Abuse!”

“No one forces you to stay here and eat my food.” Ariana grins at Sophie over Chris’ head, but Sophie’s smile is shaky at best. “I told you about Chris before. He’s the bane of my existence.”

“You mean the best friend you’ve ever had,” Chris huffs, pinching Ariana’s side. “Come and sit down. Ariana sucks at cooking, but she makes a mean coffee.”

“Yes, I know,” Sophie replies coolly. “And her frittata was pretty tasty.”

Ariana silently wills Chris not to say anything even as she feels her heart speed up at the praise. Naturally, Chris being the little shit with no filter blurts out the only thing Ariana doesn’t want him to. “Frittata, huh? Heard it wasn’t half-bad. A pity I never got to have a taste before.” He turns to Ariana with a wicked smirk and just has to add, “She has never made it for anyone else before. Except her dad.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ariana laughs nervously, putting the coffee mug in front of Sophie. “I just don’t really have anyone to make it for. Chris is allergic to eggs.”

Chris stares at her like she’s crazy, while Sophie’s look is sharp and indecipherable. She doesn’t comment on Ariana’s lousy attempt at lying, however, just leans back in her chair and sips her coffee. “Do you often lounge around in your underwear at Ariana’s place?” she asks Chris, raising an eyebrow at the man’s rail thin body.

“Only when I’m mourning another failed relationship, so about every other month or so. Depends if I go for a total bastard or a lame jerk,” Chris admits without an ounce of self-consciousness. “Ariana has the perfect set of shoulders to cry on.”

“If you worked out, you wouldn’t need to hide behind my back whenever you anger Martine,” Ariana quips with more edge than she means to. Chris sends her a wounded look.

“Don’t believe her. I could never hide behind her back, because she’s a midget,” he says, flashing his most charming grin at Sophie, whose lips twitch. “And I wouldn’t want to lose my perfect twink shape by buffing up.”

“Christopher, you’re nearly 30 years old. You haven’t been twink material for ages,” Ariana deadpans, ignoring Chris’ indignant squawking. “Seriously, ignore him. Do you want some breakfast? I’m pretty sure I have some bagels in the freezer.”

“No, thanks. I’ve already eaten,” Sophie replies with a smile. She’s slowly warming up to Chris or at least it seems so, because her posture relaxes and the nearly invisible frown lines disappear from between her brows. “I actually came because I have two tickets to RetCon and I thought you might like to come.”

“RetCon?”

“A gaming convention. You seemed to like the games we’ve been playing so I thought you’d enjoy it,” Sophie explains and suddenly her shyness makes much more sense.

Ariana smiles widely and tries not to read too much into the invitation. “Sounds like a plan. Although you should probably tell me more about it because I’ve never been to a con in my life.”

“I think that’s my cue to take my misery to Martine,” Chris pipes up, putting on his worst kicked puppy look. Ariana snorts.

“Maybe she’ll beat some sense into you,” she says. “Though I doubt it.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was any different.”

“Keep deluding yourself.”

Chris just laughs and heads to the bathroom to put on his clothes, leaving Ariana and Sophie to their conversation. Sophie seems to glow with excitement as she explains the basic rules to RPGs and strategic boardgames. The sight warms Ariana’s heart and she does her best to understand the use of character sheets and different dices, but most of all she hopes nothing will ruin Sophie’s happiness.

They leave together with Chris who draws Ariana into a tight hug and whispers in her ear, “You know this is a date, right?” Ariana gapes at the devious bastard and is about to punch him in the face, but Chris is already air kissing a slightly bewildered Sophie before she can get to him. He doesn’t wait for them to recover, leaving with a jaunty little salute in their direction. Ariana looks at Sophie with wide eyes ready to apologize for his best friend, but Sophie is smiling even if she looks kind of shell-shocked. So Ariana decides to leave it and head towards Sophie’s car instead.

“So are you dressing up as someone?” she asks, breaking the companionable silence between them once they’re on the road.

Sophie’s cheeks darken, but she shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I wanted to but didn’t have the time to make a costume and I didn’t want to buy one. That’s just not the same.”

“What did you want to go as?”

“Lamia, the Witchmaster.”

“From
Stronghold Devils
? I’d pay serious money to see you dressed as her!” Ariana exclaims, imagining Sophie in blood red leather pants, knee height boots and a gorgeous formfitting armor with straight hair, sparkling skin and poison green contacts. She has to push down the sudden surge of arousal at the mental image, because she can feel heat pool into her lower belly despite knowing that Sophie isn’t going to dress up. “And it’s an awesome game.”

“I… oh, thanks,” Sophie says quietly. She seems to be concentrating very hard on the road. “I made it.”

“What?”

“I wrote the game and had someone to design the world set and characters,” Sophie admits. “It’s just a hobby.”

Ariana stares at her in amazement, honestly not understanding how this woman can be real. She’s so different from the self-confident, frosty CEO she appears to be at the office, so humble, kind and sweet. And at that moment, Ariana knows there is no turning back for her. She’s way too deep in to get over Sophie anytime soon, but if she’s honest with herself, she doesn’t want to. She wants nothing more than to lean over the console separating their seats and kiss the hell out of Sophie’s tantalizing mouth and then devour her gorgeous, perfectly curved body until Sophie is nothing more than a begging, quivering mess under her.

Ariana licks her lips and forces the way too vivid pictures from his brain, focusing back on Sophie. “That’s amazing, Sophie,” she says and maybe there is a bit too much reverence in her tone, because Sophie turns to her for a second with a curious yet hopeful expression on her face. “You’re truly amazing.”

“T-thank you,” Sophie murmurs, her fingers clenching around the steering wheel. “Have you really never made your frittata any besides your dad before?” she asks as she turns her eyes back on the traffic.

“Yeah,” Ariana admits, lowering her gaze to her lap. “He was a chef and found it hilarious that I’m a disaster in the kitchen. So on my fifteenth birthday he gave me a penguin shaped kitchen timer and told me that he was going to teach me a recipe no one can fuck up.” She laughs at the memory, the pain over losing her father still pulsing beneath her ribs. “Well, I did. Somehow I managed to turn my first ever frittata into a charred mess, but my dad just laughed and pulled out more eggs from the carton and let me do it again. Took me nearly a month before I managed to make my first edible frittata, but my dad was so proud he demanded that I make it for him every weekend. Funnily enough, I only got to make it for him once before a stroke killed him.”

“He loved you dearly,” Sophie says and reaches over with one of hands to curl her fingers around Ariana’s. “And I’m honored you shared a part of him with me.”

“You needed a little happiness and I thought it fitting.”

“You have no idea how much you helped me.” Ariana looks up when Sophie squeezes her hand. “You’ve been so kind to me even when I was an unbearable bitch. And never badmouthed me behind my back even though I probably deserved it. And in these past few weeks you’ve been so great and patient, listening to my rants and fielding the media’s attacks without batting a lash. You helped me finally realize that willpower and determination alone are not the same as happiness, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You have nothing to thank me for,” Ariana replies, choking on emotion. “You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known and I’m grateful you gave me the chance to get to know you.”

Sophie maneuvers the car into a parking spot in the hotel’s parking lot and kills the engine before she turns full to Ariana. Her face is serious but her eyes shine brightly in the mid morning sun, turning them into pools of liquid gold. Ariana swallows around the lump in her throat. She doesn’t dare hope that she has a chance.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Ariana takes a deep breath and nods. “Yes. But you have to know that.”

“Really now?” Was Sophie flirting with her?

“Really,” she says and decides to take a chance. “I think you’re really, really beautiful. And it drives me mad. You know why?”

Sophie leans closer and she’s actually smirking. “No. Enlighten me.”

“Because I want you. I want you so goddamn bad it hurts, but I’m your friend first and I won’t put my feelings before you,” Ariana confesses, placing her heart in Sophie’s hands.

“And what would happen if I said I want you too?” Sophie’s breath brushes over Ariana lips causing Ariana to stop breathing.

“Then I’d woo you so good you’d never want to leave me ever again,” Ariana whispers back. “Would you want that?”

Sophie leans in and Ariana’s eyes close waiting for the kiss that never happens. Instead Sophie leans close to her ear and licks the shell slowly making Ariana shiver with want. “I guess you just have to do your worst and see.”

She’s out of the car before Ariana can muster up enough working brain cells to answer, leaving her gaping after her. Then as she realizes what Sophie just said, a slow, thrilled smile finds its way on her face. “Oh, sweetie, you won’t know what hit you,” she promises to the empty car before getting out and joining Sophie who is smiling at her like the cat who got the cream. Ariana is sure it’s going to be one hell of a ride.