It’s my turn to laugh, and it feels good to be back to normal with Simon. “It is. And you’re learning quickly. I’m proud of you,” I say, and I give myself a mental pat on the back for a different reason. Right now I’m killing it as the super-professional nanny-slash-tutor.
Hayden skips over to us and gives me a page with a pink giraffe and her father a bright orange hippo.
“Am I a hippo?” he asks curiously.
“Hippos are cute,” Hayden declares, then turns to me for corroboration. “Aren’t they, Abby?”
“Hippos are awesome,” I say.
“So are giraffes,” Simon says, flashing me a quick smile. Tingles rush over my skin. Damn if I’m not hopelessly gone for him if a comment about giraffes melts me.
But before this jungle talk can turn into some strange sort of new innuendo, Hayden tugs on his sleeve. “Can we go see Madison? They’re supposed to be home now.”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ll clean up while you’re gone,” I offer. “I need to finish the dishes.”
Simon waves me off. “You don’t have to. I can do them later.”
“I don’t mind.” It’s my job, and I won’t let him go easy on me.
As I clean, my mind goes blank, focusing on the simple task of washing. Five minutes later, the plates are drying in the rack, and I wipe my hands on a dishtowel. There. This whole day has proven we can do this. We can return to the time before he kissed me and flipped my world upside-down.
When I turn around, Simon has returned.
Alone.
15
Abby
* * *
“Where’s Hayden?” My voice wobbles.
Simon walks into the kitchen. “She’s down at Madison’s. They made a powerful case for watching an episode of some show where horses turn into fairies with magical powers like Greek gods.”
I arch a skeptical brow.
He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “It makes no sense to me, either, but they like it, and she doesn’t seem tired, so . . .” He drops a hand on the kitchen island. We’re maybe two or three feet apart, and already the air between us is thick with tension. With hippos and giraffes. That are awesome and cute.
Or maybe it’s all in my mind.
Or it’s my nerves, skating over my skin, racing through my blood.
“I guess I should go. I’m all done cleaning up.” My voice sounds pinched, and I know it’s because I’m a jumble right now.
“Abby,” he says, low but firm.
I swallow. “Yes?”
“I want to talk to you about the other day.” He sounds so serious.
All of a sudden, the weight of my mistake crashes down. “Are you firing me?” I blurt out.
His jaw drops. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and the wild anxieties consume me once more. “I love this job, and I love working with Hayden, and I didn’t mean to jeopardize it by . . .”
By making out with you? By touching you? By murmuring your name when you kissed me senseless in the cab, and would you please just do it again?
He steps closer. My stomach makes like a skydiver.
“You did not jeopardize a thing. I’m not firing you. I promise.” His blue eyes are locked to mine. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. And I hope I didn’t lose you, either. You’re so good at what you do, and I value your skills so much. You’re great with Hayden, and I don’t want to mess that up. I’m sorry for crossing the line.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I crossed it, too.”
He licks his lips. “And I really appreciated you inviting me out with your friends. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to mess up your night. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
A grin threatens to take over my face because my heart soars. I thought he was turning me down. Instead, he was thinking of me. “You wouldn’t have messed it up.”
“I wouldn’t have?”
“No.” I latch onto Harper’s advice. Talk to him. “I wanted you there.”
My breath comes fast, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. We’re so near to each other—our words, our voices, our bodies. Everything in me reaches for him.
“I’m glad,” he whispers.
“And you don’t make me uncomfortable. I promise.”
He doesn’t say anything in response. Just nods. I press my teeth into my lips. My back is against the sink, and he’s standing so close I can smell him. The faint scent of his soap intoxicates me. He must have gone to the gym after work and taken a shower, and oh God, now I’m imagining him naked in the shower, soaping up his strong body. I go up in flames.
“What happened in the cab was”—he pauses, as if he’s searching for the right word—“crazy.” But the way he says it in a voice full of longing doesn’t sound like crazy-bad. It sounds like . . .
“Crazy-good,” I supply.
He nods. “So good,” he whispers, and inches closer.
“It was so good,” I echo, my voice breathy, full of this potent need for him.
He stares at me, his eyes brimming with heat. I exhale, and my lips part slightly. He’s looking at my mouth now, and I’m burning all over.
We collide.
His hands are in my hair, and his lips crush mine. My fingers race up his shirt and around his neck. I pull him against me, his strong, hard body aligned with mine. His erection presses against my belly, and the realization that he’s already hard thrills me. Sparks fly through me as I register how hard he is, and my God, I want him. I want to feel him slide into me, I want to take him deep into my body. I want him to know what he does to me, too—that I’m as turned on as he is, and I can’t stop kissing him.
His big hands curl around my head, and I moan into his mouth. I love how much bigger he is than I am—taller, broader, stronger. He meets every primal desire I have to be taken. I want this man to consume me. I want to be under him, I want to be pinned by him—I want the full weight of him moving over me.
His lips are demanding, coaxing out more and more kisses from me. More murmurs, more sighs. As I arch into him, he groans, rough and husky.
Then, he breaks the kiss.
“This is bad,” he says firmly, his breath coming heavily. But then, he’s not so certain at all. “Is this bad?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly. “It’s bad. But it’s so good.”
“God, it’s so good,” he rasps, then devours my lips again. I unlace my hands from his neck, traveling down his chest, exploring the outline of his pecs, then his abs. I gasp. They’re so firm, so strong, and I want to rip off his shirt and trace the grooves with my fingers.
He bends his head to my neck and blazes a trail of kisses down to my collarbone, tugging at my shirt. My wandering hands make their way to his ass, and I grab his rear, yanking him closer. Letting him know where I want him. Between my legs. But I’m too short.
He’s quick, though. In a second, he lifts me up onto the counter, and I open my legs for him and jerk him closer. A pulse beats between my thighs, a deep and intense desire to have him inside my body. I rub against him, lust overcoming me.
He breathes out hard, panting. “You feel amazing.”
“So do you.” Then, because I’m in a brazen mood, I add, “I’m so turned on.”
“Yeah?” An eyebrow rises, like he wants more, like he’s inviting me to give him proof.
I want him to do something about this exquisite ache between my legs. I want him to touch me intimately. I’m desperate. Letting go of his deliciously firm ass, I reach for his hand, untangling it from my hair. I bring his palm to my belly and place his hand against my shirt, then gently guide him lower.
His eyes float closed, and he moans. “Abby,” he mutters as his fingers travel south, down to the waistband of my skirt.
“Yes,” I say, letting him know to keep going.
His shoulders rise and fall as his hand explores farther down my thigh, then he fingers the hem of my skirt. “Is this okay?”
I
love that he asks. I love that he’s worried. Most of all, I love that he’s going to touch me anyway. “Yes. It’s more than okay. I want it. I want you.”
“God, I want you so much,” he says on a moan as his hand tiptoes up my bare thigh. He’s inches away from my center, and his breath seizes up as he nears my panties. “You’re so wet,” he says before he even touches me. His voice is full of a sexy kind of wonder.
I manage a tiny grin. “It’s what you do to me.” Then I add, “You’re a good lubricant.”
He laughs lightly. “Better than water.” Then his eyes darken as he stares at me. “My beautiful Abby. Let me take care of this for you,” he says, his eyes holding mine hostage as I nod several times, giving him my yes over and over and over.
He grips my hip. With his free hand, his fingers glide across the cotton panel of my panties, already soaked through. “So damn wet,” he murmurs.
I push against his fingers, seeking contact, seeking his touch. He answers my need, dipping his hand inside my underwear then sliding his fingers through all my wetness.
I cry out.
He groans.
It’s perfect, our twin reactions. We are so in sync. I rock my hips into his hand as he strokes me.
He rubs circles where I want him most, and I moan and sigh and murmur. My words become a series of oh God, and please, and more. He picks up the pace, gliding his fingers faster over me while his lips kiss my neck, my ear. “You feel so fucking good,” he says in a throaty rumble.
“So do you,” I murmur and tug him closer, needing to feel the outline of his erection. He pushes his hard-on against my thigh with unhurried thrusts, as his hand works some kind of dirty magic between my legs. I rock into his touch, my breath coming faster. He thrusts a finger inside me, then one more, and I nearly scream in pleasure.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I murmur as he fucks me with his fingers, thrusting deep inside, rubbing against my clit, all while he kisses my neck and whispers sweet nothings in my ear.
Thought about this so many times.
Want you so much.
Dreamed about making you come.
Pleasure bursts through me and claws at my skin from his words. My belly tightens as I ride his hand, my hips going wild on him.
“Yes,” he groans. “I want you to come so badly.”
Moans and noises fall from my lips as my vision blurs, and the tension in me hits a new high. Then all at once, it bursts, shattering in a million tiny explosions as I come hard on his hand right there in his kitchen.
Crying out his name. Panting like a wild woman. Holding tight to this man.
When at last I open my eyes, he’s grinning dopily at me. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”
I smile back at him. I have no clue what’s going on with us, but we’re both clearly riding a pleasure high right now.
I inhale deeply and reach a hand to his erection, running my palm over it. “Do we have time? Can I?”
He glances at the clock. “I need to get her in ten more minutes,” he says, and before he can say any more, my busy fingers work open his zipper, and my palm is on his hard-on, feeling him through his boxer briefs. He’s hot and big, and my mouth waters as I stroke the outline of his length.
He shudders as I touch him through the fabric. I love how hard he is, but this isn’t enough. I need to feel him fully—my skin against his bare skin. I dip my fingers inside his briefs and wrap a hand around his erection, and we both groan loudly. I think I’m even louder touching him than I was when I came, because he’s thick and long, and he fucking loves being touched by me. The sounds he makes as I stroke him are so damn sexy—low, husky, masculine groans of pleasure.
“Abby,” he moans, his eyes squeezing shut as he rocks into my hand.
I smile wickedly even though he can’t see me. I’m so damn thrilled that he’s lost in me like I am in him. He pushes forward, and I work my hand up and down his hard length, savoring the smooth feel of him. “I want to taste you,” I say, and I don’t whisper it. I don’t murmur. I’m bold and confident, because that’s how I am with this man I want.
His eyes snap open. They’re glossy, full of lust. And just as I’m sure he’s about to push his jeans to the floor so my mouth can get to know him better, he shakes his head and cups my cheeks. “I’m dying to taste you. I can’t stop thinking about it. Would you let me? Just a taste, and then . . .”
I don’t know what comes after the then, but I can’t say no to that request. Not after the way he asked. Not after my panties grow even more damp from his words. Alone in my bed at night, my knees have fallen open as I’ve dreamed of his lips.
“Yes.”
Gently, he lifts me off the counter and sets me on my feet. Then he drops to his knees on the tile of his kitchen, pushes my cotton skirt to my waist, and pulls down my panties to my ankles. I step out of them. I should be cautious but endorphins have turned off my logical brain. I’m comprised solely of my carnal self.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, adoringly. He runs his hands up the bare flesh of my thighs, kissing my legs with such reverence that I want to cry out in pleasure from that alone. This man is too much. He’s amazing. He’s incredible. And he’s kissing me where I want him most.
My world turns electric as his tongue slides across me. My knees buckle, and he grips my legs, holding me as I grab his head, threading my fingers through his thick hair.
“Simon,” I gasp as he strokes me with his tongue.
I’m lit up, white-hot from this heavenly pleasure as he licks and sucks and kisses. And he’s not quiet, either. He moans and murmurs as he consumes me, and those sounds from him send a new wave of pleasure up and down my body.
“That’s more than a taste,” I tease as he presses his mouth hard to me.
“You taste so good I can’t stop,” he murmurs then returns to my slick heat, lapping me up, licking my clit, and kissing me until my world is turned inside out with pleasure.
I grapple at his hair, pull him closer, and rock into his face until I reach that crest once more, flying off as I climax again. I hold nothing back. I’m loud and wild, and I grip his head hard until I come down.
Soon, he rises and wraps his arms around me. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“Let me do that to you,” I say, in a sexy purr.
A groan escapes his lips. “Don’t think I’m not tempted. Immensely tempted. But I need to be downstairs in two minutes.”
“I’m guessing that’s probably not enough time for me to blow your mind,” I say playfully.
He smiles at me, a sweet, sexy grin.
“It’s not fair that you didn’t get to come,” I say.
He drops a kiss to my forehead. “It’s completely fair, since I was able to do that to you twice.” Then he sighs, and his tone is full of longing. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a clue.” But in one minute, he needs to pick up his daughter. I separate. That’s the reality, and that’s not something we can toy with. “You need to get Hayden, and I should go, too.”
“We’ll talk later?”
I nod, and then he leaves. I gather my things in a flurry, pulling on my panties and rushing out of my place of employment, flush from two epic orgasms, courtesy of my boss.
Who I’m falling into some kind of madness with.
16
Simon
* * *
I don’t have any more answers that night when I flop into bed on top of my covers. My daughter is sound asleep, and I grab a pen from the nightstand, twirling it between my thumb and forefinger, back and forth.
I set it down, reach for my phone, and slide my index finger over the lock code. I draw a sharp breath, and toss it on the bed. I park my hands behind my head, trying to navigate this path with Abby, like I evaluate business deals. In this case, each step is fraught with potholes.
Risking her job.
Hurting Hayden.
Losing someone Hayden
adores.
Becoming a cliché.
A darkness slides through my veins as that word echoes in my head. Cliché.
Like I called Miriam when she cheated with her coworker. Like I became by working too much. Even though I cut back on the relentless pace of deal-making, I can still negotiate and navigate with the best of them. I can turn a small wad of money into a pot of gold. I can sniff out opportunity, and I can smell trouble, too.
But here, I can’t decide which path is riskier, because every second I spend with Abby makes me want more of her. Every laugh, every comment—every thing she says or does. The more I have of Abby, the more I want.
I stretch my arm for the phone, giving in.
Maybe if I were stronger I’d sort this out with Kristy or Tyler. I’d write up a list of pros and cons, like a business deal.
But this isn’t fucking business. It’s my heart, and that damn persistent organ wants her. Other organs do, too. As I click on her name in my contacts, I rationalize that maybe I’m sorting this out with the one person I should be talking to. Because that’s what I learned tonight—this thing between us is real, and it’s combustible. It wasn’t a one-time incident. It has the potential to flare more brightly each time.
I start with a simple hello.
* * *
Simon: Hi
* * *
Abby: Hi
* * *
Simon: Tonight was . . . amazing.
* * *
Abby: I think I’m still glowing.
* * *
Simon: You are so beautiful. So sensual.
* * *
Abby: You make me feel that way. I love it when you touch me.
* * *
Well, hello there, dirty texting.
I didn’t expect to head in this direction so quickly, but then, that seems to be what we do lately. As I stare at her words, I burn up all over. I’m hard as a rock. She’s so direct, so forward, and it reels me in.
The Sexy One Page 10