Page 17 of If You Could Only Believe
I almost barked out a laugh. Here she was, edgy and tense, but she was still unable to ignore basic hospitality. I shook my head. “No, Sophia. Thank you, but I’m fine. What’s your cat’s name?”
She bit the bottom of her lip. “Porkchop,” she whispered. “Uh, do you want to sit down?”
Hell no, I didn’t want to sit down. Not unless she was going to be straddling me while I was sitting. I didn’t tell her that though. I counted it a miracle she let me into her apartment; I didn’t want to scare her into kicking me out.
I stepped to her when it was obvious that she wasn’t going to come any closer. I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face to mine. “No, Sophia. I don’t want to sit down.” She started trembling, and it made my already hard cock stiffen even more. I’ve had hard-ons before, but never any that were to the point of pain. And, right now, Sophia Martella had my dick throbbing so hard, there was a very real chance I was going to nut in my goddamn pants.
“Michael…” she whispered, her voice scared and unsure.
I placed my other hand on her hip, and leaning down, I kissed her temple. “Show me where your bedroom is, Sophia.”
The soft whimper that escaped her lips made my heart skip. And I really was struggling to hold it together when, without a word, she turned and walked down the hallway leaving me to follow.
Chapter 9
Sophia~
I stood in the middle of my bedroom and stood transfixed as Michael slowly and casually strolled towards me.
Things like this don’t happen to people like me.
I mean, there’s a reason I don’t have friends, have never had a boyfriend and my mother and sister hate me.
There’s a list of reasons why beautiful men like Michael Buchanan didn’t notice me.
I’m plain.
I’m fat.
I’m weird.
And, worst of all, I have no sense of tact.
I just say whatever is in my head. That’s why I have no friends.
How can he not see that? I mean, sure he’s only known me for a few hours, but in those few hours, I’ve said enough things to prove just how weird I really was.
Michael Buchanan was not ever supposed to notice me.
He should never have ever known that I existed.
Michael Buchanan should have been taking over the world with his brothers and meeting people who mattered. Not telling everyone he was dating the weird, fat girl.
He should be rolling around naked with super models and socialites.
He should be running Buchanan Industries with his brothers as he wined and dined heiresses.
But, instead, he’s here with me.
He’s in my apartment, closing in on me like a predator that has spotted its prey.
First, he forced me to go to that company party.
Next, he forced me to have to work with him the next tomorrow.
Then, he forced me to mingle with his family tonight.
And now he was forcing me to give myself to him.
