Page 62 of Defy

What the hell was wrong with me? There was no other man. She’d waited twenty-five years for her first sexual experience. She wouldn’t jump from me to someone new so fast.

It was time to stop allowing my emotions to supersede rational thought.

Then again, maybe I needed to give myself a little bit of leeway. Until now, I’d never had Sophia Morelli in my life. She pushed buttons I didn’t even know I had.

Logically, I damn well knew there was no one else. Still, the vision of eliminating every fucking jackass who chanced to look in her direction lived rent-free in my head.

The sooner we got home, the better. I needed to find a way to calm my agitation.

Hopefully, a few dozen laps in the rooftop pool would do the trick. If not, I’d fuck the hell out of Sophia. It was the least she deserved for keeping me in the dark about every-fucking-thing about that night Randolph died.

Sophia’s phone buzzed.

With a resounding sigh, she opened her clutch, pulled out her cell, and read her message.

She stared out the window for a few moments before she responded, set the mobile back inside her purse, and relaxed on the headrest, closing her eyes.

Resignation and sadness washed over her features. Immediately, my instinct to protect her surged. No matter the depth of my irritation with her, she was mine to protect.

“Upsetting news?” I asked, breaking the silence.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Something like that. I can never catch a break.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, a group chat with people wanting to know if I’m okay.”

“Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because they are fellow models who like to spread gossip. They heard about the incident at the club.” She turned her face in my direction. “And want to verify the information their source gave them.”

“Can I assume you said no comment?”

She glared at me and then turned away to stare out of the side window. “Once in a while, I prefer not to be the center of attention, keep a low profile, and have people talk about something other than me for a change. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Do I detect that bit of snark directed in my direction?”

“Of course not, Mr. Pierce. I was already the talk of the town. You know, with that murder thing hanging around my neck like a fifty-ton weight. I’m sure I would have run into that twat who caused that scene if I attended the fashion show alone as I intended.”

“Didn’t you once tell me that your life was high profile and media comes with the territory?”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the media darling needs to wallow in self-pity and wish she became a nun instead of a fashion model at eighteen.”

“Self-pity is for the weak. You aren’t weak.”

“So wallowing is out, but joining the local order is still in?” She shrugged. “I’m sure my parents will rejoice.”

“The last thing I wish you to become is a nun, especially since I’m your Dom and enjoy fucking the hell out of you every chance I get.”

My cock jumped as that charge of energy pulsed to life whenever either of us felt that draw of desire.

The way Sophia fidgeted in her seat said she felt it, too.

“If I decided to join a convent tomorrow, would my nun status keep you from touching me?”

“Sophia, if you were a nun the first time I met you, it still wouldn’t have stopped me from touching you. Our attraction is too visceral to ignore.” I set a hand on her thigh and slid it up to her bare pussy, stroking her slick seam.

Fuck. I loved how aroused she became with the slightest provocation.

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