Bound to You (11 page)

When I got the money, I was changing my first name to my middle one.
When I get money…
At the very thought of cash, my stomach muscles tightened to the point of pain. We were beyond broke. I wouldn't be changing my name anytime soon.

Not far from me, Carlie's foot tapped against the worn floor. She stared out the only window we had—which offered a wonderful view of a crumbling brick wall.

Somehow I got up and strode to the kitchenette area. Tears continued to fall and I ignored them as best I could. From under the sink, I plucked the few garbage bags we had.

All the while I couldn't stop wondering about where we'd go.
Another shelter?
They'd be packed in this heat. Maybe one of our friends would let us sleep on the floor. One quick side-glance at Carlie told me she'd vote down that idea. She'd always hated getting charity.

“Handouts are for people who really need them,” she'd always say to me. “What I need is to earn my way.”

Watching Carlie stare out the window at the expansive brick scenery wouldn't keep our landlord from tossing our clothes on the street, so I went to our scratched-up dresser and opened the first drawer.

“Sit down, Soph,” Carlie said to my back.

“Why?” When I turned around, Carlie had discarded her shirt and shorts. “What are you doing?”

She fished out a red dress—the color was faded to a muted maroon—from the dresser. “What needs to be done.”

“We aren't whores!” I grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I'm going to see him.”

Oh, hell no.
I shook my head. “Not today. Not ever again.”

Carlie brushed back her dampened red hair, determination in every sharp movement. “I don't care. We're not waiting in the heat to be turned away from a shelter.”

I tried to hide her purse, but she snatched it out of my hands.

“Sophie. Let me go.” She stroked my cheeks in the same way she had when we were kids. The touch calmed me each time. “I let him go once before. I can do it again.”

She tilted her head and gave me a bright smile. The sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks made her bright red hair all the more endearing, but a part of her had faded away the last time she'd left Tomas behind. Our lives were as intertwined with his as his was with us. Their paths crossed again and again as if their very existence together was defined by serendipity.

“It's simple. I'll ask him for the money and he'll help us out of this mess.” But as she walked out of the apartment, I knew love was never that simple.

Our rent money came via courier an hour later and my best friend came back in tears a few months later.

Our silence stretched out for a bit as the memories from that day faded away. Perhaps she was thinking about Tomas, too. I heard clicks from her keyboard. It was afternoon in the U.K. She was probably at her office handling emails and such.

I was waiting for her to nag me about Xavier—maybe even about moving to the U.K., but she didn't. The silence stretched to painful levels.

“Everything OK?” I asked.

“No, it's not.” She sucked in a breath.

“What's going on?”

“I found them, Soph.”

Her birth parents.

Last year I'd conducted a similar search, but I'd turned up nothing. Unlike Carlie, I'd come to terms with the fact that when my mother had left me at the hospital after giving birth to me, she hadn't meant to take me with her or ever be found. Case closed.

“I've got their address in Boston right here. They must've left NYC after I was born.” The sound of her gripping the paper bled through the phone. “After I learned their names, a friend helped me get an address.”

I nodded, even though she couldn't see the gesture.

“I'm scared, Soph. When there's something I want, I get it, but I'm
regretting
this for once.”

“You're the strongest person I know. You'll be fine.” I sighed. “It's just a place to visit. You could even use a third party to make the initial introductions.”

Envy briefly made me pause, but I kept going. I had to be there for Carlie. “If you want, I can go there for you. Maybe set up a lunch before you fly here.”

“I'm not ready yet. I don't think I'll ever be. I have so much to do and these new distractions are killing me.” She groaned.

“Don't say that.” This wasn't the woman I knew, who pushed me to do better. To expect better.

“I wish you were here,” she admitted.

“I wish I was, too. We'd be having a late lunch and you could get caught up on all my adventures.” Xavier's name sat on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't say it. Now wasn't the time to talk about what I faced.

“You always make things better, Soph. I can't be strong all the time and having you as a part of my team would really help me get through this.”

I almost said yes right then and there. It would make things easier to just give in. And yet…There was a
yet.

“As much as I'd like to be there for you right now, I can't leave anytime soon. I've got a huge client who needs my help to secure an important contract.”

“Of course. Of course. Our clients come first.” She drew in a long breath. “Look, take care of them. Wrap things up and then really give some thought to coming to London. You wouldn't have to worry about a place to stay or anything like that.”

“Thanks.”

I ended the phone call with a promise she'd tell me when she made plans to contact her parents. I wanted to hear all the details and support her if things didn't go well.

As I got up and headed to the shower, I told myself I was dragging my feet because I liked Xavier's company. He got what he wanted and I got what I wanted.

When I looked in my bathroom mirror, the woman who looked back at me had a shine in her eyes and she parted her lips as if in anticipation of good things to come.

A girlfriend is the last thing I'm looking for,
he'd said
.

He was practically telling me to move away.

No entanglements.
That was what I'd said to Sophie, so why did I go to bed every night and wake up still thinking about her? Even the gym didn't help this morning. Today the place was packed on a weekend, everyone determined to do their time and escape back to the land of the living.

I, for one, had trouble getting through each set. What happened with us played over and over again in my mind: from dinner, to the club, and then our encounter in the park.

While I ran on the treadmill, I couldn't stop remembering the taste of her lips. While I worked myself to a drenched sweat on the wide-grip lat pull down, her smell made it hard for me to focus. And when I finally gave in to do free weights, thinking I'd purge myself of distractions, I drowned myself in the pleasure I experienced as I finger-fucked her in the park. Her soft sounds permeated my senses, leaving my dick perpetually hard and eager to feel her under me.

The text message from her read:

We have another opportunity to meet Nakamura. Don't be late to the teahouse this evening.

Now there was the stiff Sophie I was expecting this morning. Not a single phone call since that night. Only text messages. After what happened between us, I expected as much.

Well, I wasn't letting her have all the fun trying to put a gulf between us. Right after my shower, I hurried through my morning business then I marched right over to her place.

Around eleven, the area was pretty packed for a nearby farmer's market. Chris couldn't park close so I walked a few blocks to reach her door. The walk was nice and cleared my thoughts as I climbed to the second level of her apartment building.

After a few knocks, a short redhead, who I remembered as Lana, answered the door and stared at me with bleary eyes. “Can I help you?”

She squinted. “You look familiar.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, asked for Sophie, and briefly reintroduced myself.

“Oh, yeah, I remember you…Just a sec.” Then she closed the door on me.

Now this was something new.
The last time I knocked on someone's door was post-college. I couldn't help grinning.

The door opened not long after she closed it with a lovely, yet disgruntled, Sophie.

“Miss Ashton,” I said softly.

Gone was the makeup and finely coiffed hair. Her dark hair lay in gentle waves and she looked incredibly sexy in a Red Sox T-shirt and cutoff shorts.

The real Sophie Ashton stood before me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I stopped by to discuss a few things before we meet later.”

“Sophie, is he coming in?” Lana whispered from behind her.

“Good morning,” I called out. I took the opportunity to walk past Sophie into the apartment. Last time I was here, when I found out where Sophie was eating dinner, I hadn't had a chance to see her home.

“It's rather early, Mr. Quinn,” Sophie said.

“It's almost noon,” I quipped. “You must think I'm still on West Coast time.” This time I saw the third roommate, the beautiful Indian woman from the other night she called Penny. The other two ladies were all smiles as I took in the living room. What I could see of the place, anyway. The windows out to the street let in a lot of light and revealed the sheer messiness of the place. I had to watch where I stepped to avoid mountains of textbooks and papers.

“Sorry about that,” Lana said as she tried to clear the hardwood floor. “I pulled an all-nighter for the test I have on Monday.”

The redhead's smile widened and she tried to smooth her wrinkled Nirvana T-shirt. “I don't like to study at a desk. I'm a freethinker who wanders as I work. Small crammed spaces inhibit higher forms of learning.”

“I see…”
I said. She was dead serious.

Sophie hid her mortification with lowered eyebrows. “I'm just glad you haven't tried naked studying like you promised us last semester.” She turned to me. “If you'll give me a moment, I'll go get my purse.”

Before I even had a chance to settle into a chair—once Lana removed some notebooks to make it possible to sit—Sophie had emerged from her room in a dark blue knee-length summer dress and heeled sandals, with a purse. She wasn't wearing her leather cuffs today.

That had to be a world record of some kind. Didn't women have to do some kind of makeup routine and their hair? Apparently, Sophie didn't need such frivolities. Her face was fresh and she'd left her hair down. I couldn't stop staring at her. She looked good.

She glanced at me over her shoulder on the way to the door. “Are you coming, Mr. Quinn?”

I said my goodbyes to Lana and Penny and followed her out. With amusement I chuckled when I had to hurry after her down the stairs.

“Why did you change?” I asked.

She tried to hide her own amusement, but made a small
tsk
noise instead. “When I'm with my clients I dress this way. You're here really early.” She sighed. “We shouldn't be alone like this.”

“I'm not wasting an opportunity with Nakamura. I want to be ready for anything.” Chris still wasn't waiting for us outside so I directed her toward Orleans Street, which was less crowded with traffic.

She had a slight hesitation to her step, but kept going down Maverick Street.

“Busy day,” she murmured.

“I passed a farmer's market. You had anything to eat this morning?”

“I had coffee.”

“Which isn't breakfast. How do you function?”

“On fumes most of the time.”

My knee kicked in a bit, with a familiar ache, but I ignored it and kept up with her. “We can walk and talk. Discuss business.”

“Seemed like we did enough
talking
the other night.”

Just seeing her lips part and her sharp inhale made me think about how well the dress fit over the curve of her back and her breasts.

We walked past apartment buildings and small businesses. The street widened until we reached the farmer's market. For three blocks, the market cut off through traffic. Many shoppers were here and they forced her to stand closer to me. She didn't move away when I placed my hand on the small of her back to get out of the way of a mother pushing a stroller with two kids.

“So where to?” I asked.

“You ever been to one of these things before?”

“To be honest, not in a long time. My grandfather, back when he was alive, used to do this kind of thing to sell the food he grew in his backyard.”

She nodded while I spoke. We continued down the street deeper into the market.

“What did he sell?” she asked.

“All sort of things. Peaches. Apples. Those grow pretty well in southern California.”

“I thought you lived in Arizona?”

“He lived in California. When my dad started the resort business, he founded his company outside of Phoenix.”

We approached a woman selling coffee and pastries. I asked Sophie if they looked good.

“Smells great.” She chose a puff pastry.

I also bought us two coffees. By the time our hands were full, Sophie was eating and I was watching her smile while she ate. The booths seemed nice and others tried to get our attention to stop by, but we kept going. She finished her food, but she had a piece of pastry on her cheek. I brushed it away and she flinched. Not good.

“You told me the other day there'd be no strings attached,” she whispered.

“A few things have changed,” I replied.

She didn't respond. I tried to read her expression, but couldn't.

So I continued, “And yet some things haven't. I'm still here to secure that contract. After I'm done, I'm going back to Arizona.” I wouldn't get attached to her like I did Rosalie. Sophie and I knew from the start where this was going. We should enjoy the time we had before I left.

A hint of a smile touched her lips. “So why complicate things between us?”

“Because I want you. We have unfinished business.” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while others flowed around us. With all the noise, she was forced to stand close to me. Her hazel eyes blinked rapidly and the rapid rise and fall of her chest spoke volumes.

“It won't end well if we keep going on like this,” she whispered.

“We're both adults. We know what we want. I know what you need and you know what I want. What's so complicated about that?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. The need to kiss her nipped at me. Would she taste like the strawberries on the puff pastry she'd eaten?

“We shouldn't do this, Xavier. Relationships can still get weird. Matter of fact, maybe I should ask point-blank what it is you want from me. Do you want a dominant/submissive relationship? Or maybe a girlfriend?”

At the mention of my name, my heartbeat sped up. Her voice was soft and slid over me like her hands sliding over my body. “I do know I'm not ready for a sub or a girlfriend. I'd like to see what happens naturally.”

“What happens if one of us wants to end our arrangement and the other person doesn't?”

“As long as we acknowledge this is temporary, there will always be an out. If you tell me you don't want me, I'll respect that.” I ran the tips of my fingers over the buttery smooth skin along her jaw. She shivered from my touch.

She shook her head a bit as if trying to convince herself of something. “This isn't a good idea. Is this what you do with other women?” Her attempt to sound like she was making a joke didn't go well. “Spend a few days with them, then move on to the next one?”

“No, I don't.” I placed my hand on her back and we started moving again. “Like I said before, most of the time, the women I'm photographed with are dates. They go out with me to be seen and that's it.” She didn't need to ever know I'd considered loving a woman forever.

We reached the end of the farmer's market. I pondered her silence. Her body next to mine felt good. I almost wanted to walk slower instead of faster. The moment she got into my car, she'd slide across the seat and we'd be back to where we were before. In that moment, I knew two headstrong people would just bounce back and forth. She wanted hard facts. Was I willing to seal the deal? I wrestled with my thoughts until I came to a decision.

“What if I was open to seeing what happens before I secure my contract?” I asked.

She stopped and we turned to face each other.

“What do you want to happen?”

I want to touch you everywhere,
I thought.
I want to hear you call my name as I crash through all the walls you've built around yourself to keep me out. When I'm done with you, all those lonely feelings you have trapped inside won't be there anymore.

Instead of saying those things, I whispered, “We have unfinished business, Sophie, and the only way to finish is to come to an agreement.”

“Then what have we agreed to do?”

“We've agreed to see where this takes us. Entanglements or not.”

She slowly nodded with a hint of a smile. “I'm not sure about a few things, but what I do know is that standing with you right now is something I can agree to do.”

Anticipation made the muscles along my stomach jump. “Then let's see what happens.”

Tonight was the opportunity I'd been waiting for since I'd arrived in Boston. A face-to-face encounter with the very man I wanted to see. I had an invite from Nakamura himself to attend a dinner at Sakura No Hana with him and his assistant.

And yet, as I stood outside of the teahouse with Sophie by my side, I was distracted. She seemed unfazed, perfectly ready for everything we faced. She led the way through the establishment's red double-door entrance, briefly speaking with the hostess.

This wasn't just a casual Japanese restaurant where Americans took what Japanese aspects they wanted to please American customers. The architecture was authentic from the paintings on the walls to the hostess, who greeted us at the door and called Sophie's name.

“
Konbanwa,
Sophie-
san
!” An elderly woman briefly hugged her and spoke softly to her.

Sophie turned to me with a grin. She seemed to have friends everywhere. “Our party hasn't arrived yet, but the room is ready for us.”

We left the lobby and went into the main dining area. Diners ate on small tables on the floor. Servers went from table to table, delivering food and taking orders.

The delicious smells wafted from the kitchen and clutched my empty stomach. Back when I was younger, my parents weren't too fond of Japanese food so we hardly ate at any of the restaurants in Phoenix. It was all about home-cooked food in the Quinn household.

A young hostess led us past the main dining room to one of the private rooms toward the back. At the entrance to the room, Sophie took off her high heels so I took off my shoes. Once inside, we sat down on cushions next to a table set for six people.

“I thought it was only going to be four of us?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “I don't know who else will be attending. Maybe this room is always set up that way.”

“Are we too early?”

She winked at me. “We're right on time.” She leaned toward me with a conspiratorial grin. “Which means the guest of honor is late.”

The sliding door opened and Nakamura, along with two other gentlemen, came through a few moments later. Sophie quickly rose and I repeated her movement. A respectful bow and greeting. Nakamura approached me and I took his hand into both of mine for a firm shake.

So far so good.

Sophie introduced me to Ichiro, Nakamura's first assistant, as well as Takeo, his second assistant.

Nerves aside, I told myself this was the easy part.

We settled into our seats and the conversation was light but went well. My target was all smiles, but I couldn't take my mind off the woman next to me. I sat cross-legged on the floor, and her leg was no more than an inch or two from mine. Heat from her side warmed me. She translated whenever it was necessary, but the conversation flowed without problems.