by J. S. Scott
Simon chuckled as he glanced at the beverage in her hand. “It’s definitely an alcoholic iced tea. I didn’t know you wanted the real thing.”
“What’s in this?” she asked, staring at the glass of liquid that was actually pretty close to the same color as conventional iced tea, but it was in a stout drink glass and topped with a cherry. None of the restaurants where she had worked were equipped with a full bar and she wasn’t really an expert on drinks.
Simon grinned wickedly. “Rum, gin, tequila, vodka, triple sec…and a splash of cola and sour mix.”
Oh, crap. She’d be doing a happy dance on the table. A glass of wine made her tipsy. Holding her alcohol well wasn’t a talent she had ever perfected, probably because she seldom imbibed. “Promise you won’t let me dance naked on the table when I’m done.” She cocked a brow at Simon, waiting for his agreement.
She glared at him as he burst into a full belly laugh, gasping for breath as he answered, “Seriously? From a drink or two?”
“It’s not funny. I don’t drink much,” she told him defensively, suddenly feeling pretty damn unworldly and out of place sitting across from a billionaire who had been around the block a time or two. Or three.
Simon grinned at her. “I know. Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you something else.” His expression sobered, his eyes alight with heat and something else that she couldn’t quite define. “And I definitely promise that you will not dance naked on the table, unless it’s at home in a private performance.” His voice was gruff, his expression heated, as though he were imagining exactly that scenario and was looking forward to it.
She refused to meet his eyes, the lump in her throat feeling as big as a baseball. Hell, why not? She could use a drink after the morning she had just been through. Sipping cautiously, she let the liquid flow over her tongue and down her throat, swallowing hard to get by the knot that had formed from Simon’s sexy comment. “Not bad.” She licked her lips. “It doesn’t really taste all that strong.”
He shot her a wicked smile. “It’s deceiving. They’re pretty potent.”
They enjoyed their drinks and dinner with companionable conversation. Simon talked about his family and told her about some of his projects. Kara shared funny stories from her career as a waitress, and a few from her years in nursing school.
Simon destroyed his entire plate of chicken parmesan and finished hers when she couldn’t eat another bite. He ordered them each a tiramisu and a second drink. The dessert was delicious, but she couldn’t finish it. Of course, he was willing to polish that off for her, too. The man could put away a lot of food. Maybe he needed it to fuel that big, sinewy, sculpted body that never failed to leave her panting like a dog after a tempting treat.
“How do you maintain such an incredible body when you eat like that?” she asked him, wanting to kick herself for wording it quite that way, knowing that it was the alcohol that was twisting her words.
Note to self: Do not drink more than a watered down glass of wine from now on.
His eyes shot to her face, his expression mischievous. “Incredible, huh?”
She shrugged. What was the point in denying it? His body was incredible. “Well, it is.” Incredible. Rock-hard and sexy as hell. The hottest body on the planet.
“I work out in the gym at home every day. If you think I look good, I guess it’s worth it,” his incredulous voice informed her.
Oh, hell yeah. Way worth it.
“It shows,” she choked out, trying not to be obvious about the fact that she wanted to jump his bones in about a hundred different ways. “It’s one of the reasons that women like Kate fall all over you. Not the only reason, but one of them.” Oh, shit. Had she really said that out loud? Damn alcohol! She needed to bite her tongue.
“Women don’t admire my body, my personality, or anything else about me except my money,” Simon told her in a matter-of-fact tone.
Kara looked at him, flabbergasted. Did he really believe that? “Oh, so it doesn’t matter that you’re insanely handsome, a genius, funny, and extremely kind? Women just want the cash?” God, he really was infuriating. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he realize that he had so much more to offer than just his money?
“Yes.”
Her heart ached, knowing that he really did think that money was his only asset. Hard to believe, especially when she had been on the receiving end of his generous nature so many times. Also difficult to comprehend as she glanced yearningly across the table at the most handsome, desirable man she had ever laid eyes on. “I do.” He looked at her with a bewildered expression as the words slipped from her mouth in a heated rush. “I want you. And it has nothing to do with your money.” The words spilled from her lips without pause, uncensored. She looked away from him, slightly mortified at what she had revealed, but his constant refusal to realize his own value made her insane. “I don’t give a shit about your money.”
“Yeah…I noticed that,” he said in a graveled voice.
Finally, she looked up at him and his expression was unreadable. Confusion? Disbelief? Distrust? Hope? They were all there, but she had a hard time figuring out which one took priority.
She tipped up her glass, finishing the last of her second iced tea. “I’m done.” If she had another drink, she’d be stripping off her clothes and begging him to take her. Right now.
Kara wondered if she would regret her spontaneous outburst later, and decided she most likely wouldn’t. Somehow, she needed to get through to Simon, even if it was uncomfortably humbling. He was so self-contained, so controlled, but there was an underlying vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. That self-doubt that she occasionally spotted in those gorgeous eyes should never linger there. No man as handsome, kind, and generous should ever know a moment of uncertainty.
Simon was, without question, an alpha male, but she had to question if his need to have a woman helpless and blindfolded during sex was a domination issue. Certainly, that type of domination was erotic, so hot that she creamed her panties every time she thought back to the night before, but she hated to think that Simon was constrained to only one type of sex because of distrust. Unfortunately, that was her suspicion. Gut instinct was clawing at her insides, telling her that his issue had nothing to do with domination and everything to do with some type of trust issue.
They stood and Simon pulled out his wallet, dropping some cash on top of the check. She sighed as he grasped her hand tightly, tugging her gently through the door. It was early evening and the cooler air helped clear her foggy head. She couldn’t remember every one of the ingredients in the drinks, but they had certainly loosened her tongue.
The drive back to the condo was only a few blocks, but it left Kara squirming in her seat. Simon was too close and smelled way too tempting, and she was still embarrassed about the fact that she had basically spilled her soul to him. Oh, maybe not everything, but admitting how much she wanted him and getting no real response was pretty deflating.
What did I want him to say? I want to help him and that means expecting nothing back. He never promised anything except for mind-blowing sex. And he gave me that. In spades!
Really, she hadn’t expected anything, but having him say that he wanted her too would have been nice. She felt raw, exposed. And being in his company was anything but comfortable at the moment.
I don’t understand him. I don’t know what motivates his behavior.
But she wanted to. There was nothing she wanted more than to understand every one of Simon Hudson’s secrets.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the condo. Wandering through the kitchen, she headed for her room to take a shower. She was about to call a brief goodnight to Simon when a large, muscular arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against an equally large, masculine body.
“Don’t go. Not yet.” Simon’s husky voice against her ear sent a shiver of need through her body, momentar
ily stunning her into silence.
He lifted her, cradling her against his chest as he strode into the living room and sat on the couch, her body sprawled on his lap. “What’s wrong?” she questioned softly, feeling the restless tension in his body. His muscles were bunched tightly as she fanned her hands over his shoulders.
“I need to hold you for a while. Please. You took twenty years off my life today, Kara. I’m going to end up old, bald, and crazy if you keep having incidents like this.” He wrapped his arms around her, plastering her body tightly against his.
“I’m sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder, relishing the abrasive feel of his whiskers against her cheek, trying not to let her spirits soar because he was hinting at a future for them.
“I can’t take it. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you,” he said in a strangled voice.
The living room was dim, lit only by residual light from the kitchen. Her heart raced as she pulled back to stroke his rough jaw. He was afraid for her safety. She couldn’t help but be touched by it. There had been very few people in her life who had really cared about her in that way, and certainly never a male, except for her father. Her ex probably would have shrugged it off and told her that it was her own fault for volunteering in that part of the city. He hadn’t exactly been the nurturing type.
Capturing her hand, he drew it to his lips, dropping light, soft kisses to her palm. “I had a very hard time not going for your cop’s throat today.”
“Why?”
“For God’s sake, Kara, the man was eye-fucking you right there in the station.” His answer was harsh.
“He was just being nice-”
“He was imagining what it would be like to fuck you,” he informed her in a raspy voice. “I’m a guy. Believe me. I know. And I fucking hated it. I don’t like to share.”
Gulp. Was he insinuating that…
“I didn’t know that I was yours.” Was she?
“You are now.”
“Since when?”
“Probably since the first moment I saw you. Definitely since the moment I touched you. And absolutely since last night.” His hand moved to the back of her neck, guiding her mouth to his.
He flipped her in one smooth motion, his mouth never leaving hers. One moment she was on his lap, and the next, she was spread out on the massive sofa beneath him. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; she could only feel. Legs parting to accept his body, she wrapped her arms around his muscular back, trying to get as close to him as she possibly could.
She needed this, needed him. She slid her tongue along his, desperate to get closer, wanting to crawl inside him. Her hips shifted longingly against his groin, whimpering into his mouth when she felt the hard erection straining against his jeans, pushing against her mound, making her crazy to feel him inside her.
Pulling her mouth away from his she gasped, “I need you to fuck me, Simon. Please.”
He buried his face in her neck with a guttural sound. “Bedroom.”
“No. Here. Now. Right now,” she panted. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to be blindfolded and tied this time. Wrapping her legs around his waist in silent entreaty, she brought her hands to his ass, pulling him against her as she undulated her hips. “Fuck! I can’t think when you do that. I don’t want to wait,” he rasped, his hands sliding beneath her ass, pulling her tightly against his raging erection with a low, tormented groan.
“Don’t wait. Please.” Her body was igniting like tinder on a raging forest fire.
“You know I can’t.” His voice was angry and frustrated, but he didn’t release his hold on her ass.
“You can.” She wanted him like this, spontaneous and needy. Unwrapping her legs from his waist, she bucked and slipped her hands between their bodies, unsnapping her jeans and ripping at the zipper to get them undone. She wriggled, making Simon lift up while she lowered her jeans and panties enough to kick them off her legs. “Touch me.”
Simon groaned as his hand slipped between them, his fingers sliding into her drenched pussy. “Oh Jesus, you’re so fucking wet.”
“For you,” she answered fiercely. “So don’t tell me that no woman wants you for anything other than your money. I want you so damn desperately that I’m begging you to fuck me,” she told him furiously, trying to make him understand that what she felt was far from monetary.
She couldn’t tell him the depths of her need. She wasn’t ready to strip her soul and Simon wasn’t ready to hear it. And maybe she wasn’t ready to deal with it. But, damn it, he’d take this. He’d take her. Now.
Her body shuddered as his fingers glided through her tender, wet flesh, zeroing in on her throbbing clit. “Yes. Touch me.” She was lost, her body reacting to every sensation, every brush of his fingers. Her head tossed wildly as she abandoned herself to his bold, undaunted stroking.
“You’re so hot. So damn responsive. It’s so hard to believe that you want me like this. Tell me. Again,” he demanded, his strokes becoming harder, more demanding.
“I need you, Simon. Fuck me.”
“Only me?”
“Only you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.” And he was the only man who could make her this crazy with a simple touch. She knew it was a weakness, but at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
He reared up and tore open his jeans, yanking them down until his cock was liberated, springing out throbbing, hard and needy. “I want you so fucking much, Kara, but I’m not sure I can do this.” His voice was both passionate and angry.
She recognized his need to dominate. The cause wasn’t clear, but she knew he needed to be in control. “Hold my hands, Simon. Take control. Fuck me how you need to. I don’t care, as long as you do it now.”
She wanted to grasp that beautiful cock and put it where she most needed it, but reached her hands up and grasped both of his. Both of his hands were clenched in a tight fist, but they opened slowly and wrapped around hers. He entwined their fingers and lowered their joined hands over her head.
“Yes. You have control. I’m exactly where you want me. Now take me,” she pleaded, needing him to take her this way. She had enjoyed last night, but she wanted him to bind her and blindfold her because it was erotic and sexy, not because he needed to. Instinctively, she knew it was critical that he learn to trust in small steps, make love instead of just fuck.
Nearly ready to weep as he lowered his powerful body over hers, she moaned at the feel of his cock poised against her tight opening. She swirled her hips until they were in position.
And then, miraculously, he entered her with one strong thrust.
She hissed as his cock slammed into her, stretched her, possessed her completely. “Yes. You feel so good.” She wrapped her legs around him, wanting to savor the feel of him.
“Shit. You’re so wet. Nothing between you and my cock. There’s no fucking better feeling than this,” Simon panted against her neck, his chest heaving against her breasts, abrading her swollen nipples.
Hands entwined, his fingers squeezing hers until they were nearly numb, Simon pumped his hips as she answered him by grinding up against him, meeting him halfway.
Her heart ached as her body joined again and again with Simon’s, knowing that this moment was pivotal, extraordinary and special.
Her heels dug into his rock-hard ass, urging him deeper, faster. His strokes became powerful, forceful. In and out. Over and over.
His mouth covered hers, his kiss almost violent as he ravaged her mouth, owning it, as his velvet-soft tongue swept through every inch of her mouth, thrusting in the same rhythm as his cock.
Overwhelmed by his strength, absorbed in the cadence of pummeling cock and thrusting tongue, Kara lost herself in Simon. Completely. Utterly. Willingly.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she whimpered into his mouth, her body tr
embling, pulsating, in the most incredible climax she had ever experienced.
Her channel clenched, her flesh tightening and releasing around Simon’s cock as he pounded in and out of her body with furious abandon.
He groaned into her mouth, entwining his marauding tongue with hers, as he buried himself one last time deep inside her, his big body trembling above her as he came, flooding her womb with heat.
Dragging his mouth away from her lips, his face fell against her neck. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” he chanted breathlessly against her skin.
She yanked on her hands, needing the return of her blood circulation. She freed herself and wrapped her arms around him, threading her hands through his sweat-soaked hair, cradling his head against her neck. His weight was heavy on top of her, his body relaxed and sated, but she wasn’t ready for him to move.
“I think I just died,” he huffed, still breathing hard.
“I guess I must be dead right along with you then. I was there,” she answered with a gasp, her hands still sifting through his hair.
Later, she would wonder how long she and Simon had laid there in a world of their own, stunned and astonished by what had occurred, but at that moment she just absorbed the peace that came after the turbulent storm.
After an unknown amount of time, Simon rolled off her. “I’m heavy. I’m sorry.”
Curling into his side, she sighed heavily. “It was fine.”
“It was beyond fine,” he growled, playfully and intentionally misunderstanding her.
“Thank you, Simon,” she whispered softly.
“For what?” he asked, puzzled, as he wrapped one arm around her protectively and stroked the hair from her face with another.
“For what just happened.” For trusting me. For letting go of a few ghosts. For giving me what I needed. For giving yourself what you needed.