Another note appeared, and she set down Mick’s story, flipped to her belly, kicked her feet in the air, and continued the email foreplay.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 12:58 PM
subject: T-O-N-G-U-E-S?
Or maybe we will be going to places that make you sing like you’re high up at the top of the rollercoaster. Perhaps, I should amend my plans for tonight and take you on that rollercoaster ride after all.
On second thought, I’m just going to keep the plans to myself and surprise you.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:01 PM
subject: Like I’m going in blindfolded
I like rides.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:06 PM
subject: My favorite accessory
Speaking of fashion, wear a skirt tonight.
She laughed out loud at the last email. As if she’d wear anything but a skirt. She was about to reply with something saucy when another note dropped into her inbox.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:07 PM
subject: Name, rank and serial number
On a more serious note, it’s not right for me to know your name and occupation and you to not know the same. Not in this day and age. So, here’s me.
Sophie hovered her index finger over the link at the end of the note.
The game had been fun, almost like a masquerade ball. Now, he had changed the game and removed his mask. Asking her if she wanted to look.
How could she not?
Sophie was a cat in front of an open box. The cat had no choice but to slink inside, and explore its contents. That man had sparked her mind and ignited her body, and hell, it was natural to want to know more about him. So from the cozy cocoon of gold and cranberry-red pillows on her bed, she clicked on the link to his company.
Sloan Protection Resources.
The web site had a rugged, sturdy and masculine look with black and gray colors and imposing fonts. Completely fitting with what it was selling—armed private security, event security, bodyguards, guard dogs, and more. The “mission” on the home page read: “We provide secure solutions to a wide range of individuals, corporations, non-profit organizations and government customers. We are committed to helping businesses and individuals operate in a safe and secure environment that will enable them to prosper.”
Interesting.
Sophie vaguely wondered if any of her event organizers had relied on Sloan Protection Resources. Or if some of her wealthiest benefactors did. She suspected the answer was yes, and that she and Ryan Sloan trafficked in the same circles even though they hadn’t met until the other day.
She clicked on the About Us section, and was greeted by a photo that made her heart stutter and other parts heat up.
The picture was of two strong, tall men—clearly related—in suits, with arms crossed and serious looks on their faces. Sophie’s eyes were drawn to Ryan, with his light brown hair, a slight wave to it, his eyes like night, and the firm, strong, toned body that the suit didn’t even try to hide. That man just knew how to wear sharp-dressed garb. He was tailor-made for the part of strong, sexy businessman.
A murmur fell from her lips as she brushed her fingertip across his image. He was so fucking hot.
Clicking on his name, she jumped to another page and found his bio.
Ryan Sloan is one of the founders of Sloan Protection Resources. A native of Las Vegas, Ryan attended University of Michigan where he played for the hockey team. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree in history, he spent five years in the army, completing his service as a captain, like his brother Michael. The two of them founded Sloan Protection Resources six years ago. Together they are committed to ensuring the highest level of safety for clients, and rely on trained teams of former law enforcement, military, and security professionals who are state certified and skilled in the latest tools and tactics.
Sophie’s grin spread along with a burst of warmth through her chest. That was just…sexy.
And hot.
And so very dominant.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:28 PM
subject: The more you know…
Thank you. And your bio sure makes you sound hot. Good thing I know you can back it up with your talented fingers. And possibly other instruments. See you tonight.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:37 PM
subject: Five hours, twenty-three minutes
Still can’t wait.
from: [email protected]
date: July 14, 1:41 PM
subject: One more thing…
What if I don’t wear a skirt?
He never answered her last note.
Chapter Eight
Sophie was early for once.
Only because she told herself over and over that their date started an hour sooner. She’d even set the alarm on her phone to leave her building at five-thirty, which gave her the necessary thirty minutes to walk to Ceasar’s and make it to the Fizz Bar, and then keep herself entertained outside it playing the slots as she waited.
She didn’t want to be late for her date, so she’d tricked her own overactive mind.
Now, the little hand on the clock had landed on seven. On the dot.
“I see you didn’t take my advice to heart.”
At her perch at the Wizard of Oz slot machine that had been occupying her restless fingers and seconds-counting mind, Sophie’s lips quirked up in a wicked grin as the deep, sexy voice of her date landed in her ears. She turned around and drank in the sight of Ryan Sloan, who looked just as lickable minus the tie and tailored suit she’d seen him in for their first encounter. Tonight he wore crisp, charcoal pants that showed off a fantastic ass, the kind you could bounce a quarter off of, and a white button-down that demanded to be unbuttoned. Such a simple look, but such a sexy one. Casual, but classy.
“Perhaps I was feeling a little defiant,” she said playfully, taking the time to cross her legs and show off the skinny jeans that she wore, in direct disobedience of his skirt request.
For some reason the prospect of going against his fashion wishes had felt like naughty mischief, and naughty mischief was irresistible.
She looked away from him and pressed the button once more on the one-armed bandit, hoping for a trio of glittery red slippers. “Over the Rainbow” played as the reel spun, and Sophie awaited her line-up, eager for a winning jackpot. No such luck. Sliding into place were a tin man, a lion, and a wicked witch, who cackled in mockery. Sophie pouted. “I guess my luck has run out on this machine. Are you a bad luck charm?” she teased as she glanced up at her too-handsome-to-be-believed date.
Ryan’s hand came down on her neck firmly, but his voice matched her light-hearted tone. “I don’t mind your defiance,” he said, returning to her earlier comment. “As long as you don’t mind having to wait longer now for all the good things I have planned for you.”
Instantly, her brain was awash with images, fantasies, and filthy scenarios she’d only dreamed of. She wanted all the good things.
“What sort of good things?” she asked, shivering as he touched her, his big palm wrapping around her neck. She closed her eyes as he traveled up to her nape. He threaded his fingers in her hair, gripping her locks. She tensed. His hand was sending a message, one that his mouth made abundantly clear when he bent his head to her ear and spoke.
“The kind that a skirt makes possible,” he said as he tugged her head back so she had to stare up at him.