Page 12 of If You Could Only Believe
And speaking of expressive, Sophia had these bright, big brown eyes that showed a personeverything. They were framed by full, thick lashes that were completely unadorned. She had a heart-shaped face with a pair of pale pink lips I imagined wrapped around my cock the second my eyes landed on them. Her entire face was devoid of makeup and she was still pretty as a wild flower.
When she stood up, I noticed she was wearing a plain white button-up blouse, a black pencil skirt, no stalkings and a pair of two-inch, sensible black heels. Her outfit was prim, proper and office appropriate. What wasn’t prim, proper or office appropriate was how her outfit fit over all her curves.
Sophia had to be carrying around a pair of C cups, if not D’s. Her waist tapered in, but just enough to give her a smooth, sleek curve on each side. She wasn’t twig-skinny, and I loved that. Her hips were round and wide, and her thighs looked like they could wrap around a waist and hold on tight.
But it was her mouth that held me spellbound. She said what she thought even if it meant embarrassing herself. No one would ever have to wonder what she was thinking or feeling.
And, Christ, when I was holding her hand hostage against my chest, I could have sworn she could feel my heart ready to beat out of my chest. I hadn’t been expecting the jolt of pleasure that had snaked down my spine at that simple touch. Had she not said I was making her uncomfortable, I don’t think I would have ever let her hand go.
And then I went and called her ‘baby’. I hadn’t meant to. It just slipped out, and I thanked God she hadn’t corrected me or lost her ever lovin’ mind over it.
I did keep my hand on the small of her back as I led her to the elevators, though. And as long as she didn’t tell me to remove it, that’s where it would stay.
We entered the elevator, and I pushed the button to take us down. When the door slid closed, I could have sworn she said something.
I looked down at her all of five foot nothing and asked, “Pardon?”
She was looking down and wringing the shit out of her hands. “I’m not even dressed for a party,” she mumbled louder this time.
“It’s casual, Sophia,” I said, trying to reassure her. “What you’re wearing is fine.”
“But I’ve been wearing this all day,” she complained. “It’s all worn wrinkled and…stuff.”
“I’ve been wearing this suit all day, too,” I said, hoping to ease her discomfort.
She snorted-actually snorted at me. “Oh, please, Mr. Buchanan,” she snipped as her arm waved up and down towards me. “When a person looks like you do, who cares what they’re wearing?”
I turned to her, and it was a dick move knowing how uncomfortable she was, but I couldn’t help myself. I stepped to her until her back hit the wall and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. I placed one palm flat against the surface on either side of her face and leaned down. “Sophia, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Michael?”
Her throat was working, and I could see her struggling to form words. Christ, I’ve never wanted someone the way I want her right now. I’ve never felt this way before. “M…Michael…” she whispered.
The elevator dinged, and the door opened-and thank you, God-because I was fairly certain I was seconds away from taking her in the goddamn elevator. Fuck the party. My name never sounded so good coming out of someone’s mouth.
I grabbed her hand and walked with her across the lobby floor and out into the evening. I had already called ahead to have one of BI’s drivers waiting for us. I planned on having a couple of drinks tonight, so I didn’t want to drive. I wasn’t sure if Sophia was a drinker, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t.
Brendan already had the backseat door open, and I helped Sophia climb in. As soon as I followed, Brendan shut the door and walked around to get back into the front seat to drive.
The car was just a town car, not a limo, but it came equipped with a minibar. And honest to goodness truth here, Sophia looked like she needed a drink. “Would you like something to drink, Sophia?”
Her eyes widened in panic again and she started shaking her head. “Uh…no,” she stammered. “No, thank you, I mean.”
“You don’t drink?”
She started biting the bottom of her lip and my cock took notice. “Uhm, I have,” she offered. “It’s just…I don’t think it’s a good idea tonight.”
I leaned back against the plush black leather seat and angled my body so I could look at her. “Why’s that?”
“Seatbelts,” she blurted out. “Shouldn’t we be wearing seatbelts? This is kind of dangerous, isn’t it?”
I moved towards her until my thigh was touching hers and I reached across, pulled on the seatbelt and dragging it across her mountain of tits, I buckled her in. Sophia had sucked in a breath and held her eyes tightly closed the entire time.
I couldn’t fight off my smile, even though she’s made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to smile. “Do you feel safe now, baby?”
Her eyes popped open as the car started pulling away from the curb and just looked at me. After a few seconds she mumbled, “That’s the second time you’ve called me ‘baby’. Why are you calling me that?”
I shrugged a shoulder. If I told her the truth, I was fairly certain she unbuckled her seatbelt and throw herself out the car door. So, I opted for part of the truth. “It feels more comfortable than calling you Sophia.”
Her beautiful brown eyes practically bugged out of her head. “More comfortable?” she yelped. “How is that more comfortable than calling me by my name? We’ve just met.”
