This was about the right of ownership. Simon and Artie owned the projects, made all the business decisions, got the job done. She owned that damn bathroom. And the books. She didn’t mess with the jobs, Simon didn’t mess with the bathroom or the books.
He’d trusted her with his accounting, trusted she’d pay the bills on time, collect the money, file the taxes. In return, he respected her desire for a clean bathroom. He never called her a neat freak, never tried to sneak money out of the petty cash, never wrote himself checks he conveniently forgot to tell her about. He respected her.
Mercy, there was so much more than that. The way he’d helped remodel the house, countless weekend hours, the thank-you dinners she’d made him, the fun they’d all had late into those evenings, talking, laughing, Artie telling his stories. Maybe she’d become so mad with Simon because he was a living, breathing object at which she could direct her anger. Because Artie was dead, and she 201
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couldn’t direct it at him.
Haley touched her lips. Simon’s body had imprinted itself all over her. His warmth, his smell. She could still feel the hardness of his cock between her legs, relish his sweet, cinnamon taste. He was like a glass of champagne sparkling in her mouth.
Artie had never—
She slapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d spoken aloud. She’d loved Artie when she married him. She’d loved him when he died. It was just . . . different. Every argument, every time you go to sleep angry or stomp out of the house, it changes how you love somebody. Yet Artie had never kissed her that way, not in the beginning, certainly not at the end. Never with a passion that quite literally stole her breath, suspended her in time where all that existed was him, his mouth, his body.
Only Simon had ever made her feel that intensity. It scared the bejesus out of her. He was a man to stay away from if she wanted to protect herself from ever getting hurt again the way Artie had hurt her. Haley unfolded herself from the toilet lid. She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. She’d kissed him, touched him, wanted him. Now she was going to have to deal with it. Ignore it? Yeah, great plan. Simon leaned against the wall opposite the restroom door, arms folded over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, the toe of his boot propped negligently. A relaxed, easy stance, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. All muscle, the man was enough to make any woman drool. His hair, the silver shot through with his original dark brown, didn’t make him older. As the cliché went, it only made him better. He’d turned fifty his last birthday, setting off the smoke alarm with all the candles Saskia put on his birthday cake. Fifty years on Simon was prime. Ignore what happened in his office? He’d flipped a switch she couldn’t turn off again.
Yet she made one last-ditch effort to pretend. “It’s all yours.” She flapped a hand in the bathroom’s direction.
Simon didn’t say a word. He didn’t move. He simply focused his smoky gray eyes on her. And waited.
His stare unnerved her. She swallowed. “It was a mistake.”
One side of his mouth tipped. It might have been a smile. Or a grimace. She glanced around the wall to the front office. Saskia still wasn’t in. Her 202
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watch read five minutes to nine. Shock. It seemed like hours since she’d sat at her computer. That’s what Simon did her to her, messed with her senses. Finally, the rock spoke. “Once.”
Her pulse skittered. “What?”
“We make your fantasy come true one time.”
Heat arced from his body to hers over the small space between them. Haley started to shake on the inside. He wouldn’t see, but she felt the quakes right down to her toes. “That’s not a good idea.” Dear Lord, she wanted it. He’d done a number on her last night. A total mindfuck, to use his word. Today, he’d turned it physical. If she hadn’t become such a horny slut on her fortieth birthday, she might have been able to fight his power. But she couldn’t fight herself.
“Once,” he repeated, his gaze piercing, like a predator with his quarry in sight. “If you don’t like it, you walk away.”
If she did like it? Oh no, she wasn’t stupid enough to ask that question. She wanted to close her eyes, but his scent would still envelop her, his heat surround her, and the images from his story would overwhelm her.
“I will give you what you want.”
She’d crossed a line with him. His voice would forever hold the power to seduce her now. Had he known that when he put out the ad like a cat setting a trap for a mouse?
Oh yes, she was caught. “If I agree, who would the other one be?”
His lip twitched as if he realized he had her right on the edge of surrender.
“I’ve got a lady friend who can find the perfect man to let you do the things you want.”
She couldn’t remember anymore whether they were sexual acts she’d wanted or merely what Simon wanted for her. Somehow he’d made his fantasy hers and vice versa. “ If I say yes, tell me exactly what I’m saying yes to.” She was afraid she’d give him more than she ever dreamed if she didn’t make him spell it out. His pupils widened, his nostrils flared, as if he were breathing her straight into his lungs. “You are my slave for the night. I tie you down, I find the man to pleasure you the way you deserve while I watch. We turn the tables on him and you take him with a dildo, giving you all the power. When it’s done, I fuck you.”
All the air was sucked out of the short hallway. She couldn’t form a word. The front door opened. Saskia loudly hummed a bombastic tune. “Yoo-hoo. Anyone here?” she singsonged, her words tinged with a Scandinavian lilt. 203
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“Haley.” With her name, Simon’s voice branded her.
“I’m back here,” she called out, then looked Simon full in the face. “Once. That’s all.”
“Agreed.” He smiled, a wicked grin that lit a fire in her core. “Unless you decide you need me twice.”
She was afraid she wouldn’t let him go at all.
SIMON COULDN’T BUDGE FROM HIS POSITION AGAINST THE WALL. She had him by the balls with the sweet sway of her delectable ass as she walked out to greet Saskia, the lingering scent of her shampoo or lotion or whatever the hell it was that captured him, and the phantom feel of her body in his arms. He was fucking seduced. Head over heels. A goner.
If she took him once and walked away, he’d die. He’d never thought himself capable of such depth of emotion. It was both a joy and a misery. She held his heart in her hand without a single clue. Was it a lie of omission not to tell her he loved her?
The truth would not set her free. Instead, it was a club to the head, shackling her with an obligation. Just as he hadn’t told her about Artie because the act would have been self-serving, revealing how he felt about her was equally selfserving. Love me or you’re responsible for breaking my heart. Emotional blackmail. He despised it when a woman tried it on him so he sure as hell wouldn’t use it on Haley.
No, his emotions were his own to deal with, good or bad. If she came to share his feelings, then he’d tell her.
In the meantime, he had one chance to show her how good they could be together. Straightening away from the wall, Simon went to his office, closing the door behind him. He dialed the phone, flopped back in the chair, and propped his boot heels on the desk.
“I do not book animal acts, Simon.”
He laughed from his gut. He’d once asked Isabel to locate a Great Dane for a lovely lady of his acquaintance who’d made the request of him. He always obliged a lady if he could. Though he was pretty damn grateful when Isabel said she didn’t have any Great Danes in her kennel, so to speak.
“You find me so predictable, Isabel, but this time I’m going to shock the hell out of you.”
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She snorted. “I doubt it.”
He liked the woman. She was striking, sexy, well put together, smart, and possessed a wicked sense of humor that snuck up on a man. As madam, she spent the majority of he
r time booking courtesans and making sure her customer base was completely satisfied. Not many were privy to the fact that she entertained her own private and very select client list. Isabel did the choosing, not the other way round. She’d taken Simon because she liked his attitude, respectful of women, but willing to try most any damn thing she proposed. She’d been known to pair him with her clients, too, if she couldn’t find a good match with one of her courtesans.
Simon had few limits, and Isabel appreciated that. Animal acts, thankfully, had never been one of her suggestions. He’d never followed through on the Great Dane, one of the few times he’d failed to accommodate a woman’s request.
In contrast, what he wanted was almost vanilla. “I need a male submissive for a lady friend.”
He could hear the light drum of Isabel’s fingers on her desktop. “What’s the level of pain involved?”
Isabel did have one or two courtesans who enjoyed a high degree of physical and mental abuse. It was a need some people had, and she found clients who wanted to fill the role. She wasn’t comfortable with violence or humiliation herself. It didn’t do anything for Simon either. “No pain. He needs to be willing to let my lady take him with a dildo and give her a lot of oral pleasure. I’ll say when he gets to stop.”
“Your lady?” A curious note laced her voice.
He hadn’t meant for it to slip through, but neither would he deny it. “Mine,”
he confirmed.
“Well, well, well, Simon, you have indeed managed to shock me. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“She’s special, and this needs to be special.”
“Tell me more about her so I can make the perfect match.” Isabel was all about the perfect match. It was a point of honor with her.
“She’s petite and requires someone of medium height and build, preferably older, my age, bald.” He stopped midstream, realizing he’d described Artie, and felt the rightness of it in his gut. He wondered if Artie had ever worshipped 205
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Haley’s body the way she deserved. Simon had the feeling the answer was no. Well, he would make Artie worship her, even if it was an illusion. “I want him to be fifty years old, five ten, one-hundred-eighty pounds, brown eyes, and bald.”
“And a submissive? That’s a tall order, Simon. Seriously, at that age, they’re somewhat more dominant.”
“I know you can find one. He doesn’t have to be a submissive. He merely needs to be willing to follow all my instructions in how I want him to pleasure her and allow her to use the dildo on him.”
“I love the way you say ‘merely.’ ” She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Bless her heart. Isabel always made it sound as if he was asking for the moon so that when she came through, she looked like a miracle worker. “I’d like to arrange ASAP. The sooner the better.” He didn’t want to give Haley enough time to change her mind.
“Ooh. Desperate to impress, are we, darling?”
He chuckled even as something ached around his heart. “You have no idea.”
“Then I simply can’t fail you, can I.”
Isabel rarely did. Never say never, she’d had a couple of royal fuckups or she wouldn’t be human, but for him, she’d always come through. Sometimes he wondered what thing in her past had driven her to the life she’d chosen. Perhaps she’d had a love affair gone bad, but that explanation seemed too trite. Yet there were times she’d gone thoughtful on him, out of the moment, as if he reminded her of someone. He’d never been quite sure whether that was a good or bad thing for her.
“Simon, if she’s the one, I hope this works for you.”
“She is the one.”
He just wasn’t sure anything would work with Haley. It might have been too late the day Artie died fucking another woman in Simon’s bed. 206
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6
FRIDAY MORNING, HALEY’S CELL PHONE VIBRATED WITH A TEXT message.
“Come into my office, baby. I need to bend you over my desk and fuck you bad.”
Simon. He’d been texting naughty messages since Monday. From his truck, a job site, when he was out to lunch, late at night, and yes, even from his office. Sexting, he called it. She called it foreplay, part of the mindfuck he was so good at. She’d been in a constant state of arousal since she’d agreed to this “date.”
His sexy missives kept her high, so that she didn’t rethink, worry, or change her mind. She never replied, she never complied, but she didn’t delete the texts, either. At night, alone in bed, she’d read them all again and masturbate to the emotions he evoked.
Five minutes after he’d sexted her, he appeared by the break room door.
“Need a mocha?” A sexy, naughty, shit-eating grin spread across his face. Haley glanced at Saskia, who noticed nothing untoward in Simon’s behavior. Saskia didn’t like coffee drinks.
“No, thanks,” Haley said. “Don’t you have a project to get to or something?”
“I wanted a mocha for the road.” He smirked. “You make them best.” He was not generally a mocha man. Until this week, when he kept yanking her away from her work so he could get her alone in the break room.
“I’m busy, Simon.”
“Come on, Haley,” he whined like a fractious little boy. “I need your help.” He glanced at Saskia’s back as she turned away to answer a call, then he winked and crooked his finger.
She shouldn’t. They were supposed to have one date, one time only. All this sexting and foreplay and mindfucking wasn’t supposed to be a part of it. She liked it too much. It made her feel sexy and desired, beautiful and wanted. She followed him into the break room as if she had no will of her own. That’s exactly what she’d revealed to him in all those e-mails last Sunday night, that she needed a man to take control.
Simon was already tamping the coffee. Somehow all his muscles came into play, even his ass flexed. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d sneaked a peek of his butt over the last week. He’d been in the office a lot more than 207
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usual. On purpose, she was sure.
“You’re incorrigible,” she muttered as she poured water into the small carafe.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”
He closed in on her and Haley pointed to the refrigerator. “Milk, please.”
“I love it when you order me around, sweetheart.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Would you stop?”
He flirted nonstop as they got everything ready. When Simon turned on his charm, he could make a woman melt into a puddle at his feet. The rich espresso brew reached the steam line on the carafe, and she opened the valve to froth the milk. Simon was right behind her, crowding her against the counter, touching her with his heat. She couldn’t concentrate enough to steam the milk, something she’d done a thousand times.
“You were supposed to come into my office,” Simon whispered at her ear.
“You are not supposed to send me dirty texts while we’re at work,” she answered sternly.
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d come into my office and sucked my cock before Saskia arrived.”
Haley laughed. Simon felt the rhythm of it vibrate against his chest, setting off shock waves through his body. She felt so damn good. He had no comparisons from his past; he’d found no one like her. He’d been hard since Monday. Now, now, now, his body screamed at him. Take her, fuck her, make her yours. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Although he’d been having so much damn fun seducing her with text messages. Even if she didn’t answer, his words had made her hot and wet. All he had to do was walk into a room and he could scent her on the air.
Sex first, love later. He would wear her down.
“Tonight.” He rubbed his hips against her, letting her feel the rock of his cock. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Haley froze. Her body tensed where moments before she’d been pliable and, oh, so very fuckable. “Tonight? Why didn’t you tell me so
oner?”
“I was looking for the right person. I’m telling you as soon as I got word.”
“Yes, but—”
He bent down to swipe his tongue along her earlobe. It shut her up.
“Tonight,” he murmured again, his breath caressing her ear. “You wanted it, I got it for you. You don’t really want to back out now.”
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The milk frothed, she shut off the steam valve and set the carafe on the counter.
He would not let her back out. This meant too much to him. The sexting was fun, sexy, the plans for tonight hot, exciting. Ultimately, this was all about getting her to see she needed him as much as he needed her. So he couldn’t let her change her mind.
“This is probably your only chance to make your fantasy come true.” He bracketed her with both arms against the counter, trapping her against him, seducing her with his body and her own desires. “You want it bad.”
He heard and felt her swallow, smelled the musk of her arousal. He touched her hand, tracing his index finger over her skin. “You can’t imagine how good this will feel. Two men doing anything and everything you’ve ever dreamed about. At their mercy. Being forced to let them make you come over and over.”
Hell, he was seducing himself. “Say yes, Haley.”
The phone rang in the outer office. Saskia called out in a lilting bellow,
“Haley, it’s Mr. Redmond from Primo Lumber.”
“I’ll be right there,” she called.
“Tonight,” he insisted. “I’ll be at your house at eight.”
She elbowed him. He backed off. By the time he left for the inspection he had out in Portola Valley, she still hadn’t said yes. In his favor, she hadn’t said no, either.
He texted as soon as the building inspector left. “There’s a kitchen island I dream of putting you on so I can pull down your panties and make you come with my tongue.”
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