they fucked, the adventure would be complete. Where was the fun in that?
His dick protested that there’d be loads of fun in that, but he managed to ignore it.
“Let me,” Sophie murmured, her hands sliding down now. Down his chest to his belly, then to his belt. His heart twisted so hard he thought it might have torn free of something important.
Let me...let me touch your cock, set it free, get my pretty little hot mouth around it until I suck you dry.
Oh, fuck.
He stepped back with a pained laugh. She frowned in complete confusion.
“Next time,” he said hoarsely, shaking his head at his own strained patience.
“What next time?”
“The next time I see you.” He knew by the way she winced that he’d been right.
“No,” she said. “This time.” Her fingers hooked into his belt and tugged him closer. His feet took a step before he could convince his body that he really meant to say no.
He huffed another half-tortured laugh and closed a hand over both of hers. “You’re trying to tell me there won’t be a next time, aren’t you?”
Her gaze slipped away from him. She cleared her throat.
Alex smiled. “And I’m telling you there will be.”
“I can’t. You don’t understand. This isn’t...a thing. It can’t be. And you’re leaving in a few days. So...”
“So. There’s tomorrow. Unless you have other plans.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
“Even if you have other plans.”
That narrowed her eyes. He wanted to smile, but he suspected there might be a temper under those mild manners. Sophie raised her chin. “You can be as bossy as you want, but there’s no reason for me to see you again. I already got what I needed.”
Oh, he smiled now. A wide smile full of every filthy thought he was thinking. He stepped closer again, backing her into the railing, just as she’d been earlier when she was coming.
“Oh, Sophie,” he whispered. Her fingers tightened around his belt as he raised a hand to brush his knuckles over her jaw. “I can tell by how hard you sucked my thumb before you came that you didn’t get half of what you really need.”
When his thumb touched her lip, her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as her breath whispered over him. Then she jerked her chin away and shoved him.
Alex stepped back, but he was still smiling. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I won’t invite you in.”
“I didn’t ask to come in.”
She stared at him for a moment, then raised her chin and brushed past him. Alex watched her walk. Her hips swayed as enticingly as ever, but he could see she wasn’t quite steady. Next time, she’d be too weak to move. He’d make sure of it.
“HI, DAD,” SHE called out as the screen door slammed behind her.
“Hey, princess,” his deep voice called from the back of the ranch house.
Sophie headed toward the bright yellow kitchen and the scent of coffee. He was there, of course, hands warming around a steaming mug and eyes on the cattle prices in the newspaper. He could get more current figures online, which she’d explained a million times. She’d even bookmarked it on his laptop for him, but he hated the computer. Which was why she was here.
“Everything good?” she asked, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
He patted her arm and nodded. “Things are fine.”
She grabbed a cup of coffee and headed for the small office tucked between the kitchen and his bedroom. The ancient office chair creaked ominously when she took a seat, but the sound made her smile. She’d loved this chair when she was little and would sit in the corner and color while her dad worked. The casters and base were made of steel, the seat itself upholstered in thick, ugly green leather. It would never wear out. It was steady. Like her dad.
“Did you get the new bank statement?” Sophie asked.
He still banked with a local ranching bank that sent paper statements. There was no talking him out of this. She’d tried.
“Honey, I’ve told you you don’t need to do this.” He edged into the little office and slipped the statement onto the ledger.
“Dad.” She didn’t want to have this conversation for the thousandth time.
“We’re fine out here. There’s no reason for you to spend almost an hour driving out here to be holed up in this office. A young woman like you should be enjoying life in town.”
She’d been opening her mouth to protest, but she closed it now. Oh, she was enjoying life in town plenty. Thank God she was facing the desk, because she could feel the red-hot blush that flashed over her face. She heard her father walk back into the kitchen.
Last night had been her best adventure yet. It had been hot and naughty and satisfying and perfect. And so completely wrong. One hundred percent wrong. Not because she’d let a near stranger on a motorcycle get her off on a highway pull-off in full view of anyone who might have decided to pull in. No. That she could definitely live with. But because Alex didn’t know who she was. More importantly, because Sophie knew exactly who she was.
The daughter of Dorothy Heyer. The heir of all the heartbreak and scandal her mother had caused. For Sophie. For her stepfather and brother. And for Alex’s family, too.
Not that Alex’s father was somehow absolved from the affair. Sophie was no believer in boys will be boys. The idea disgusted her. Both of them had been married. Both had had families. And both had ruined lives with their reckless choices. But in a small town twenty-five years ago, no one else had seen it that way.
If they’d run off, if they’d abandoned children and spouses... Well, sometimes men did things like that. But women? That just wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right. Dorothy Heyer hadn’t been right. And Sophie wasn’t right either. She just made sure that no one else knew that.
Especially not Alex Bishop.
“God,” she whispered, dropping her face into her hands. That had been such a bad idea. But he’d seduced her. With his bike and his tattoos and that hard smile and then Alaska. How was she supposed to have resisted that?
With your legs closed, a little voice inside her admonished. Sophie clenched her teeth and wished she could slap that little voice. All of those things were the perfect invitation to open her legs, not close them. And he’d been so confident, too. So in control.
The nerves between her legs twitched at that thought. Of his hands on her, so steady and strong and calloused, of the way he’d kissed her, fingers cupped to the back of her head to position her just the way he wanted.
Oh, God, that had been hot. It was exactly what she always wanted. He was the perfect temporary adventure, the man she was hoping for every time she flirted with a stranger at a bar. And he was Rose Bishop’s son.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
“Something wrong?” her dad called.
“No! It’s fine.” She needed to concentrate. An hour or two of work, and then she could enjoy her day off. Spend some time in the garden. Do some work around the house.
Sophie crossed her legs, smoothed down her skirt and opened the statement. Everything looked good. She took good care of the books. There’d been a hiccup when her brother had dropped out of college and played at