Restrained Box Set: Boston Doms Books 1-4, page 52
He rubbed his thumb over the inside of her wrist, the same calming gesture he’d used in the coffee shop, and Sofia took a steadying breath. She wanted this. Gina wasn’t the only one who’d missed out on fun all these years. Now, pursued by a hot, British billionaire—or former billionaire anyway—Sofia didn’t want to return to her all-work-and-no-play existence.
“Red.” Biting her lip, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “The last time I…played…my safeword was red.”
Nick brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles.
“Thank you, Sofia.”
Confusion furrowed her brow. “What for?”
“For trusting me.” Nick glanced at her hand resting on his knee. “I haven’t wanted to…know anyone in a long time. I’m not looking for a one-night-stand. Or even someone to play with on occasion. Despite what the press might have led you to believe, I’m not that kind of man.”
Oh. Deep down, she’d known that about him from the first night they’d met. A sadness had lingered in Nick’s eyes, probably in part due to his lost love. And though he had flirted shamelessly, a serious tone laced every word.
Meeting his gaze now, Sofia could find no trace of discontentment.
She pressed her lips together, hoping to stop herself from blurting out something truly stupid like how she shouldn’t be here or how she wasn’t the type of woman he should be having dinner with. There was nothing wrong with her. No reason for her to feel inferior, less than worthy, even though somewhere deep down, those thoughts lingered.
“Sofia?” Nick squeezed her hand. “You disappeared. Where did you go?”
“Inside my own head.” She sighed, raking her fingers through her unruly hair. “I haven’t had a night off—a night out—in…well, years. And I want to know you too. Outside…and inside the bedroom.”
Nick’s smile warmed her, and they toasted to the evening. After Nick dabbed his lips with a napkin, he cocked his head. “Tell me about your job search. Everything.”
“There’s not a lot to tell,” she admitted. “One of the sports bars close to the waterfront offered me a job on the spot, but they don’t pay a cent over minimum wage, and I didn’t see enough patrons in there to make up for the difference in tips. But I have two interviews tomorrow, and the bar manager at Spago actually seemed interested. He said he’d call me in the morning.”
Nick sat back, respect brightening his features. “That’s wonderful. I…I’ll offer again. Can I put in a good word anywhere? Or perhaps ask Alex to do so? His recommendation probably carries more weight these days than mine.”
“No. I want to do this on my own.” Sofia narrowed her gaze at the man across from her. “Promise me. No interfering.”
“On my life.” He placed his palm over his heart. “That’s not who I am anymore.”
“Anymore?”
An amused smile curved his lips. “My brother and I grew up privileged.
Very. Our father was a shrewd businessman, and our mother has a brilliant head for finances. When you run billion-dollar corporations, you often forget that real people are involved. Fairhaven Exports is the largest shipping company in the world. Negotiating contracts…well, before my fall from grace, I’d march into a business meeting and more or less walk all over everyone else in the room. The job required it—or I thought it did. In truth, I simply wasn’t the best of men.”
Nick had been nothing but caring the entire time she’d known him.
Hearing him describe himself in those terms didn’t ring true. “And now?”
“Now, I’ve learned the value of listening. If you change your mind, you have only to ask. I may not have the power of my former position or the resources I once did, but my name is still well known and in a few places, not quite mud. I’d help you in an instant. If you wanted me to.”
“Thank you. That you’d offer means a lot. Even if I can’t let you.” Sofia washed down the tinge of regret that lingered with a sip of wine.
“How long have you worked at Bound?” Nick asked.
“Three years. Victor hired me not long after they opened. I impressed him with my non-alcoholic recipes. Though I also think he knew I was desperate.
The pay sucked until I worked up the courage to ask for a raise. It’s still not great, but the tips more than make up for the lousy hourly rate. Still, he keeps my hours right under forty a week. Most places around here don’t hire full-time employees so they can get out of paying for benefits. Though, as of next week, I won’t have to worry about keeping a policy for my sister anymore.”
She fiddled with her napkin, the intensity of Nick’s gaze making her want to squirm in her seat. But that would just remind her of the kiss they’d shared—
and how she hoped he couldn’t see how aroused she was by his presence.
“How long have you taken care of her?”
A pang of sadness twisted in Sofia’s chest. “When I was seventeen, our parents were killed in a car accident. Gina was twelve. The only other family we had—our great Aunt Rita—lived in Florida and couldn’t take us in. But she knew a really good lawyer. He had the courts declare me an adult and give me provisional custody of Gina. There were social workers and counselors and all sorts of people involved, but I worked my ass off to make sure that Gina and I could stay together. She’s brilliant. Loves science. When she got accepted to Boston College on a partial scholarship, I promised her I’d do everything I could to make sure she graduated with as little debt as possible. She never had to work a day. Graduated top of her class, and now
she’s got this fancy job…”
And I’m stuck here slinging drinks and being blackmailed. How could I put my entire life on hold for so long?
Gelila interrupted Sofia’s momentary reverie with a bowl of warm water and two steaming towels on a tray. “Is the wine not good?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.
“It’s lovely, my dear,” Nick said. “Sofia and I are simply getting to know one another.”
Thankful for the distraction, Sofia tried not to blush as Nick took her hands, dipped each in the bowl in turn, and then gently blotted the water away with the steaming towel. She tried to return the favor, but he cleansed his own hands too quickly, his eyes unfocused until Gelila whisked the bowl away.
“I usually get takeout,” Sofia said. “I forgot about the ritual.”
Nick blinked once, a little longer than usual, and then smiled at her. “As did I.”
Before Sofia could ask why he’d stopped visiting a restaurant he so obviously loved, Gelila returned with large dishes filled with injera and several types of wat—a thick stew.
With a smile, Nick raised his wine glass. “Shall we?”
A soft clink punctuated Sofia’s reply. “Absolutely.”
Nick
As Sofia swept up the last bit of stew with a piece of flatbread, Nick marveled at the turn the night had taken. At first shy and hesitant, she now laughed freely at his ridiculous jokes. They shared tales of childhood. He listened raptly when she recounted what she remembered of immigrating to the United States at five and how she’d tried to preserve at least a little of her family’s Brazilian heritage for Gina. They chuckled while comparing their citizenship classes, as both held dual passports, and now, they moved on to
workplace antics.
“The worst place I ever worked was this bar down in Copley Square,” she said after she dabbed her lips with a napkin.
Nick raised a brow, though all he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“I know. You’d think such a ritzy area would be a dream, right?” With a shake of her head, Sofia huffed. “The owner cut all sorts of corners, filling the top shelf bottles with well liquor, buying lemons and limes that were better suited for compost than anything else…”
“Which bar, so I know never to go there again?” Nick draped his arm across the back of the booth, and to his delight, Sofia relaxed against the cushion, her wavy locks tickling his hand.
“Matties.” She rolled her eyes. “But don’t worry. They were shut down by the health department two years ago. My last day there, I pulled a bottle of eighteen-year-old scotch from the top shelf. The customer was celebrating a big promotion or something—six of his buddies huddled around him. I poured them all doubles, but this was expensive Highland whiskey, and it stank like an ashtray. Turns out, the owner had refilled the bottle with the cheapest Kentucky bourbon he could find, then he’d added a couple of drops of liquid smoke to the bottle. Like that smells anything like peat.”
“Shite. And he never got caught?” Twining his fingers around a thick curl, he relished the way she turned ever so slightly towards him.
“I’m not sure. I told the customer the bottle was cracked and he’d have to pick another drink. At the end of my shift, I took the ‘whiskey’ into the owner’s office, confronted him, and then quit on the spot.” Her eyes darkened, the sparkle fading. “I guess that makes two jobs that have turned ugly on me.”
Taking a chance, Nick grazed the back of her neck with his fingers. She leaned into him, and he bent his head so his lips were close to her ear. “Never be sad about sticking up for your principles, Sofia. You’re a brave woman.”
“Brave doesn’t pay the rent.” She shook her head, straightened, and when she met his gaze, her eyes were once again clear and almost bright. “Will you excuse me for a minute?”
Nick helped her up, but before she could slip away, he splayed his hand against the small of her back. “Please tell me you’re not about to beg off for the night.”
His heartbeat thundered in his ears as she brought her hand to his chest.
“Not quite yet. There’s still dessert.” Her eyelids fluttered as she pressed closer, but in the next breath, she turned and headed for the ladies’ room.
Shite. If she doesn’t let me kiss her again soon, I might very well implode.
He couldn’t tear his gaze from the sway of her hips until she disappeared down the hall. Without her wit and beauty distracting him, he scanned the restaurant as he sank back into the booth. A handful of tables held happy diners, but he’d not seen a dinner rush. He made a mental note to start coming back frequently—and recommending Asmara’s to everyone he knew.
He bent to withdraw his phone from his jacket pocket, and a man in a colorful stripped shirt moved in his periphery. Something about his build stuck in Nick’s mind, and he leaned forward to see around a pillar.
No.
Not Mario Ricci. Not here. Losing his grip on his phone, he rose on unsteady legs. The hunk of plastic and glass clattered to the floor, but Nick didn’t care. He had eyes only for the big Italian. Though he felt anything but confident, he strode towards the mobster, only to have the man rise, throw fifty dollars on the table, and practically sprint out of the restaurant.
What the fuck? Sparing their still-empty booth a quick glance, Nick pushed through the door, spilling out onto the street with his heart in his throat. A flash of color caught his eye to the left. He surged forward, desperate to catch the man and ask him what the hell he was doing. But a crowd emerged from another local bar, and Nick skidded to a stop, his expensive dress shoes sliding on the damp pavement.
He owed the Italians nothing. Alex had paid his debt without a second thought, his only condition that Nick get help for his gambling problem. So why was Mario following him? If the man had been dining at Asmara’s randomly, he’d have simply ignored Nick. To run…
Sofia. He’d left her—and his phone and jacket. She’d be back by now unless her ladies’ room excuse had been an escape plan. Despite how ridiculous that possibility sounded to his rational mind, seeing the mobster had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.
Get a grip. One of his favorite American sayings, the words—along with his clenched fists—helped him focus. Get back to the table and beg Sofia’s forgiveness.
As he slipped back inside Asmara’s, Gelila frowned at him. “Mr.
Fairhaven, I never took you for a rude man.”
“I-I’m sorry, Gelila. Please tell me Sofia didn’t leave.” He tried to peer
around the pillar but was stopped by a hand to his chest.
“Sofia has come here twice a month for three years. Takeout, always.
Never with a man, never with a friend. Every time with this deep sadness in her eyes and bone weary. Tonight, she is happy. Or was.” Gelila lowered her voice. “So were you.”
Unable to stop his shoulders from slumping, Nick covered Gelila’s hand with his chilled fingers. “You’re very observant.”
“I am a mother.” She held his gaze for another moment before pulling away. “Go. I bring dessert.”
When Nick approached the table, Sofia straightened in her seat and held out his phone. “You dropped this.”
“Thank you.” Their fingers brushed, and the confusion and concern etched on her face made him kick himself even harder. “I thought…a former business associate…we parted on less than agreeable terms.”
Stop. You’re making your cock-up worse. Nick dropped his phone into his jacket pocket without so much as a glance at the screen and then gestured to the booth. “Will you forgive me for running off? It was rude, and I have no excuse other than my brain taking leave of my body.”
Sofia nodded, though she kept her distance, pressed against the back of the booth. “Who was he?”
He scrambled for the right words, mesmerized by how her voice shifted with her mood. All night he’d struggled with how much to tell her about his past, only to have their conversation skip over most of the landmines without effort. “As it turns out, he was no one I knew. He just bore a strong resemblance to the gentleman.”
Nick laid his hand palm up on the table, hoping she’d take the invitation.
Sofia chewed on her lip, a gentle line forming between her brows. As she placed her hand in his, the furrow deepened. “What are we doing?” she whispered.
“Starting something.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand and tried not to let his relief show when she smiled. Her sweet scent enveloped him.
As their lips met, Sofia’s grip tightened.
Shite. She tasted of the wine they’d shared, and her full lips parted when he took the kiss deeper. Tangling his hand in her hair, he held her against him, gently tugging on her lower lip with his teeth until she moaned softly. A single dart of his tongue gifted him with her fingers digging into his hip, and his cock stiffened to the point of pain.
“Sofia,” he groaned when he came up for air. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
She dropped her gaze to his lap and her lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “Oh, I think I do.”
After they’d shared dessert—a spicy bread pudding made with injera—
Nick held out Sofia’s coat and smoothed the wool down her arms. “I don’t suppose you’d consider a nightcap…at my flat?”
Sofia turned, her eyes clouded. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not, love?” He slid his hand up her back, tangling his fingers in her hair.
“I…don’t know.” With her body pressed against his, Sofia chewed on her lower lip until Nick had to brush his thumb over the tortured flesh. “I want…”
“What do you want?” He claimed her mouth, and she slid her arms around his waist. He knew what he wanted. Sofia. In his bed. Fear dimmed his arousal a notch as he realized he wanted a lot more than that.
Breathless, Sofia broke off the kiss but didn’t pull away. “I want…you.”
Nick forced himself to arrest his wide smile so he could slip into his Master persona. “You remember your safeword?”
“Red.”
With a nod, Nick tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Good. Shall we?”
12
Sofia
Sofia held onto Nick’s arm as he unlocked the door to his Audi A5.
A thrill raced through her when he cupped the back of her neck and brushed a kiss to her lips. The scrap of lace under her dress wouldn’t do her much good if he kept kissing her, but she didn’t want to pull away.
Too soon, Nick drew back, his blue eyes smoldering, streaks of whiskey and aquamarine only increasing his allure. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get enough of your lips,” he said. “I may be a lost cause after I taste the rest of you.”
What are you doing?
Living a little—with an incredibly hot guy who’s into you. And one you might not be able to see after tonight.
Great. Now you’re arguing with yourself. Get over it.
Sofia tried not to let her worries show as he opened her door. Once Nick started the car, he turned to her. “You haven’t said a word since we left the restaurant. Are you sure about this?” Concern drew his brows together, and she pursed her lips as he held her gaze. “I haven’t had an evening this engaging in years. I don’t want it to end. But I’ll take you home if you’re having second thoughts.”
“I’m not…exactly.” Sofia reached for his hand as his face fell. “I’m not ready to go home. All day, I kept telling myself this was it. We’d have a nice
dinner, and then you’d bring me home. I’d end the night breaking it off with you so I could go back to Bound and tell Victor we weren’t involved. And you’d forget about me. I’d be content with the memory of your kiss, with getting to know someone interesting and different and…real. That would be it. Because I wouldn’t feel…anything for you.”
“And? Do you? Feel something?” Nick tightened his fingers on hers, holding his breath.
“Yes.” With a small smile, she looked down at their joined hands. “You know that voice everyone has in their head? The one that’s supposed to keep them from doing something they regret?”
He released his breath in a chuckle. “Mine tends to spend quite a lot of time on holiday.”
“Mine works too well. And it’s been arguing with me since my boss told me to drag you into the poker game. I should protect you, I should keep my distance so Victor doesn’t try to pressure me again, I should go home and study, I should apply for more jobs, I should find something ‘responsible’ to do.” She shook her head then huffed. “I’ve had a good time tonight. I like you. We’re two consenting adults. Why shouldn’t we see where this goes?”
