Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2 Page 6

  As he lifted his shirt to remove it, and the fabric passed over his face, Jimmy was subjected to the sweet scent of her once more. God help him. Stepping beneath the hot spray, he let the water roll over his hair and down his body.

  Eventually she’d give in. She had to.

  Chapter Nine

  Sonja spent the cab ride back to her apartment tortured by thoughts of James. Emotions vacillated between anger—at him, and at herself—and being so damn aroused she could barely stand it. Shifting her legs, she crossed one over the other and shivered at the feel of the dampness coating her panties.

  He’d done that to her. Nearly made her orgasm with only his thigh.

  When his calloused hand teased the tender skin of the back of her thigh and then ventured to her breast, the room had spun around her and she thought she might actually pass out—never mind what the erection pressing hard and eager against her hip did to her. Sonja touched her fingertips to her mouth.

  The kiss… His lips, his tongue…

  The kiss had been hotter than anything she’d ever experienced. She blew out a breath. When he shifted her panties aside and dragged his long fingers through her folds, it took every ounce of willpower to stop things from going any further. Of course, then he’d gone and pushed her, making it really easy for her to stop.

  James had pissed her off. Pricked at her resistance to him. Who the hell did he think he was? That was a question she’d asked herself back in Vegas too. Worse, why the hell was her body so interested in him? Damn early-forties hormones. Maybe she should sleep with him and sate the desire.

  Sonja closed her eyes. The difference in their ages made her shudder. She might be single, but she was eleven years older than him. Forty-one. She was forty-one years old. Logically, there was no real hope of a relationship outside of sex, and maybe that was a good thing. Besides, he was a young, virile, sexy guy who clearly had his pick of any woman in the City. Why for God’s sake did he want her? She might not look her age, thanks to good genes, but that didn’t really matter when it came down to simple facts. Bottom line? She was too old for him, and he was too young for her. On top of that, they had nothing in common.

  It didn’t matter how incredible kissing him with his hard thigh pressed between her legs had been. A zing of arousal shot from her stomach to between her thighs at the memory. Sonja stifled a moan and uncrossed and crossed her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, her clit pulsing with arousal. Sonja licked her lips and inhaled, gazing out at the storefronts and pedestrians. The taste of him lingered on her lips, his scent still present on her clothes. She’d be in the bath tonight for sure, relieving the ache between her legs.

  His vow came back to her—he’d be taking himself in hand tonight. Sonja lost her breath and bit her bottom lip. James would stroke himself and call out her name when he orgasmed. He said he’d send her a text telling her so. Would he? She’d acted disgusted when he said it, yet his words hadn’t disgusted her at all. They’d only served to make her want him more. Her choices had been to take him up on his offer, or get the hell out of there. Obviously, she’d chosen to flee. Although slight regret lingered at the decision she’d made, Sonja was more than certain James Donnelly was a complication she didn’t need in her life. She had a hard enough time telling the rest of the men in her world “no”. She didn’t need another one. Even if at every turn she found herself wanting to tell him “yes”.

  The cab pulled in front of her building. She paid the fare through the little plastic slot and stepped out of the car. Once inside her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for her daughter’s bedroom. Without knocking, she opened the door and walked in. Privacy be damned, Sonja wanted answers and she didn’t care if Casey liked it or not.

  “What the fuck, Mom!” Casey turned her back and pulled her T-shirt over her head.

  Sonja crossed her arms. “Watch your mouth, Casey, or I’ll wash it out with soap.”

  “Can’t you knock? God, a little privacy would be nice, you know.”

  “This is my house, so no, I don’t need to knock. Now explain yourself, young lady. Tell me why you didn’t come home after school and disobeyed me. Yet again.”

  “What’s the big deal? There isn’t one, that’s what. Why can’t you leave me alone?” Casey climbed onto the center of her queen-size bed and picked up her iPad.

  Sonja snatched it out of her hands. “I asked you a question. Answer me.”

  “I hate you! Give that back. It’s not yours. Daddy bought it for me.”

  “I don’t care who bought it for you. I am speaking to you, and you will pay attention to me. You are not to see that boy again. Do you hear me?”

  “Whatever.” Casey let out a mocking laugh. “Not like you can stop me anyway. You’re never here, so just stay out of my life and worry about your own.”

  Sonja let out an exasperated sigh. This kid was going to be the death of her. “Casey, look…you may think you can come and go as you please. You may also think you can do what you want, but I assure you, child, I will make your life a living hell if you continue down this path you’ve chosen.”

  “Yeah, what’re you gonna do about it? Lock me up in the house? Try it and see what happens. I won’t do what you say. So don’t waste your time.”

  Sonja leaned her hip against the doorjamb, baffled and at a complete loss for what to do about her daughter’s behavior. What scared her most was that Casey was right. Short of locking her in the house, she couldn’t keep her from leaving, or skipping school, or hanging out with that over-privileged thug, Drake. “I don’t understand where this attitude has come from. Furthermore, I don’t understand why you’re so angry all the time. You have a very nice life, you realize. Look around, young lady.” Sonja tossed the iPad onto the bed. “Consider yourself grounded for the remainder of the week and into the weekend. And I’m calling your father. I’ve had enough of this.”

  “G’head and call him, Mommy. He’s just gonna to tell you you’re overreacting.”

  “Maybe so, but the grounding still stands.” She pointed at her daughter. “You leave this house to go anywhere other than school for the next week, and you can consider every electronic toy you own confiscated.” Sonja turned and left the room.

  “Fine! I don’t give a crap if you take everything away. Daddy will get me more!”

  Sonja covered her ears and walked away from her daughter’s tantrum. A second later the typical sound of Casey’s bedroom door slamming made Sonja flinch. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. Fighting with her daughter exhausted her and now she needed to emotionally prepare for a phone call to her ex-husband, Thomas.

  Casey was right about him too. Thomas would tell Sonja she was overreacting. He’d always been the “fun” parent. When they divorced six years ago, Sonja gained full custody of Casey because of his choice to live out of state. Once he’d moved, he went from being the “fun” parent to a Disneyland Dad on steroids.

  She wandered into the kitchen and poured a glass of Chardonnay. Alcohol would be necessary to get through the conversation. She loathed talking to Thomas—pompous ass that he was. There was no doubt he’d brush off Sonja’s concerns tonight, as he always did, and give their daughter anything she wanted. It was his way of getting back at Sonja for leaving him.

  Stepping into the study, glass of wine in hand, she settled behind what was once her father’s antique mahogany serpentine pedestal desk. She eyed the phone at the corner of the leather top and exhaled. “Here we go.” Sonja picked up the receiver and dialed Thomas’s number in Florida.

  “Good evening, Sonja.”

  The sound of his voice sent a chill skipping over her skin, one coming from disgust rather than desire. “Hello, Thomas. I’m sorry to disturb you. Do you have a few moments to talk?”

  “Always. What can I do for you?”

  Sonja leaned back in the leather chair and sipp
ed her wine. “It’s about Casey. Thomas, she’s out of control.”

  “Oh, I highly doubt that. She’s only looking for attention, I’m sure. Have you spent any time with her lately?”

  Sonja paused, drawing in a deep breath before answering. She was not going to let him ruffle her feathers. “I assure you, this is not a matter of her needing attention. She never comes home after school as she’s told to do, and she’s got this boy she’s spending too much time with.”

  “So? Let the child be, Sonja. She’s fifteen. It’s normal for her to have a boyfriend.”

  Sonja took a gulp of her wine. He infuriated her, and with each passing year it became harder and harder for her to not let her anger get the best of her. Talking to him had become impossible. Especially since Casey started the rebellious behavior. “Thomas, don’t you think it’s abnormal you’re not concerned about your daughter running around with a kid who’s almost eighteen?”

  “No, Sonja. I don’t think it’s abnormal at all. It’s called giving her space. You should try it sometime.” There was a pause. “Oh wait, I forget. You give her plenty of space since you’re hardly home. One of these days, I’m going to bring her to live with me. She’s old enough to choose for herself now.”

  Sonja let out a sigh and reached for some measure of calm. “Look, I didn’t call to fight with you, and certainly not to be threatened by you, yet again, over the living arrangements of our daughter. I called you for help. And to let you know I believe we’re heading into trouble with her. I would think that would be more important than trying to get back at me.” There, she sounded reasonable and calm. She could do this, though she knew she’d made a mistake in reaching out to him. Why she kept trying was a mystery to her. Some things never changed and Thomas Martin was one of them.

  “Okay, look. I apologize.” There was a pause on the line like he was swallowing down and digesting the fact that he’d made an apology. A rare thing from him. Also not a good sign. “I have plans to be in Manhattan on Monday. I’ll see if I can move my business to Friday and spend the weekend. We can talk about it when I get home.”

  Home.

  He’d never stopped calling her house his home. He never stopped expecting to stay there when he was in town either. Sonja was willing to bet she would’ve come home from work on Monday and he would’ve been there, sitting in the study drinking a brandy. Sonja shuddered and placed her hand on her forehead. She just didn’t have the energy to have the well-rehearsed argument again. “Fine. When will you arrive?”

  “I’ll let you know. Most likely in the evening. You can tell me all about what you feel she’s done after we have dinner.”

  “I’ll have Janissa ready the guest room for you.”

  “Now, Sonja, that won’t be necessary. You know that. Thanks for calling, darling. It’s always a pleasure to hear your voice.”

  “Right. Have a good night, Thomas.” Sonja hung up the phone and drank the rest of her wine in one swallow. Darling? She wanted to vomit.

  Thomas would come on Friday, and he’d spend the weekend. Not only would he spend the weekend in her home. He’d spend it in her bed. That’s why the guest bedroom didn’t need to be readied for him.

  Sonja rose from behind the desk, went back to the kitchen and poured another full glass. Sure, his body was still appealing, and his looks, but she’d stopped having sex with him long ago. Yet he insisted on sleeping next to her. She hated it and in no way desired him anymore.

  In the beginning, when he’d first moved to Florida, Sonja let him stay because she thought he’d help with Casey, but it always backfired. The one weekend she’d taken a stand, she’d seen how devastated Casey was by the constant bickering and tension. It was bad enough her daughter had to grow up without a father in her day-to-day life. Sonja didn’t want to fill the time Casey did have with him with arguments.

  Thomas felt it was better for Casey to see them as the family they always were. Even though they no longer were a family, Sonja didn’t argue his point. Sadly, deep inside, she suspected Thomas was likely only trying to stay close to her and merely using their daughter as an excuse. Bottom line, in the end, giving him what he wanted was better than dealing with the bickering and his constant threats to take her back to court for custody.

  Sonja took a large gulp of her wine. She was weak. Always had been. Shame flowed through her, pooling in her limbs, making her stomach churn and bile rise in the back of her throat. Sonja successfully argued case after case in the courtroom with ease. Standing up for her clients wasn’t a problem. But it was just another false front because standing up for herself was a totally different story. She’d never been able to say “no”—it wasn’t in her programming.

  She’d give Thomas what he wanted because…it was just easier.

  Even if she hated herself for it.

  Bottle of Chardonnay and glass in hand, Sonja made her way to her bedroom suite. A bath…a bath was what she needed most. After starting the water in her large claw-foot tub, Sonja went back into her closet and stripped off her work clothes. Giving birth to Casey over fifteen years ago had changed her body, but she’d regained her figure, mostly. Many women weren’t so lucky. Sonja was built like her mother—long and slender. Feline-esque is what Thomas used to say. That was back when she’d loved him. Or at least thought she loved him. Maybe she had.

  Sonja ran her hands over her smooth stomach. It wasn’t perfectly flat, but it was toned. Working out at the gym helped. There were a few stretch marks from the last months of pregnancy, though they never really bothered her. Tilting her head forward, she pulled the pins from her hair, freeing the long blonde locks and letting them fall around her shoulders. Gliding her hands up her torso, she cupped her small breasts in her palms, felt the weight of them and ran her thumbs over her nipples. The light touch tightened her small, pink areolas and her nipples became erect.

  James had touched them earlier that night, smoothed his thumb over one of them. Her bra and blouse were no match for the rigid points and proved a weak barrier from his touch. Just like her mind and body had been no match for his drugging kisses. She wanted him. Madness. She still wanted him. Why? Why does he make me want him? Sonja took a sip of her wine. The reason eluded her.

  Stepping back into her bathroom, she set the glass down and pulled her hair up in a hair tie. She gathered a few towels and set them next to the tub, and when she turned to step into the steaming water—her phone beeped on the vanity counter.

  Sonja froze and eyed the clock on the wall. Nine p.m. It could be a client. It could be anyone. Picking it up, she saw the text message alert displaying a number she didn’t recognize. With shaking hands, she swiped the screen, unlocking it. She took a breath and read the message.

  I can’t get the scent of you out of my mind.

  And your name tastes nowhere near as sweet as your lips.

  I’ll settle for only that…for now.

  Only your name rolling from my tongue and echoing off my shower walls.

  Your name, rather than your perfect mouth.

  Your name, rather than your body.

  My fantasy of you, rather than you…for now.

  James.

  Sonja sat on the edge of the tub staring at the words he’d sent her. She read the poem again. Then once more. No one had ever written her a poem before. On second thought, that wasn’t true. Abram Meckler had written her a poem in the ninth grade, but she could hardly compare that to this.

  Only your name rolling from my tongue and echoing off my shower walls. Sonja covered her mouth with the back of her hand. He’d done it, hadn’t he? He’d been in his shower and stroked himself to thoughts of her. Of her lips and her body. Of her. He brought himself to orgasm with her name on his lips, like he said he would.

  Everything inside Sonja went loose. Heat crept up her spine and perspiration dotted her forehead. He’d know she read the message because of the
read receipt indicator on her iPhone; there was no way around that now. But she was not going to reply. She couldn’t. In fact, she didn’t need to. She did however save his number in her contacts. Sonja set the phone down and wiped her forehead with her palm. Another swallow of wine and she stepped into her tub.

  James Donnelly…James Donnelly. How could he want her so much?

  Chapter Ten

  Jimmy stood before the commissioned piece of art he’d been working on the whole week. He’d put the final elements together today. Fiber optic, pale-yellow lights now highlighted the windows of the dimmer buildings in the distance and made the whole cityscape come alive.

  The piece was softer than his norm, with its copper wires outlining the buildings and the waterway. He was definitely pleased with it. And its sale would pay his rent for the next two months. Not a bad gig. The money was appreciated, but he couldn’t help feeling a small attachment to the piece. Sonja had been drawn to it when she’d been here with him. She’d said it was beautiful, but who knew if she really thought so?

  There were a lot of things about Sonja he didn’t know. He’d sent her the text on Wednesday night like he said he would. But what he’d sent probably wasn’t what she expected to get. He shook his head, pulled the rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. Tossing it on his workbench, Jimmy grabbed his cell and made a call to the buyer, letting her know the piece would be delivered tomorrow as promised.

  He made his way upstairs and then up the circular set to his loft bedroom. More than ready for a few drinks, he sent a text to his best friend, Andy, saying to meet him at the pub around eight. Jimmy wanted to celebrate plus blow off a little steam in the process.

  What had Sonja thought of his text? Jimmy knew damn well he’d been kind of an asshole that night, pushing her buttons, trying to soften the negative tension between them without cooling the sexual heat that had been even stronger than the night they’d met in Vegas. Maybe the poem hadn’t gone over too well. He couldn’t be sure since she hadn’t replied.