Without Apology (Without Series Book 1)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  “Okay.” Why did he sound all business?

  “You should get some sleep.”

  “I’m not that—what did you call it earlier? Knackered?” Since the sex earlier had given me more confidence about instigating things, I walked up and put my hands on his chest.

  He took a deep breath. “Yes. Knackered is tired. And I’m trying to be considerate here.”

  “I don’t remember asking you to be.”

  That seemed to break his last defense. His lips were on me in an instant while his body backed me down the hall. Fingers nimbly unzipped my dress. I stepped out of it, letting it pool at my feet while he stood back for a moment, sweeping his eyes over me like a caress.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “And here you were about to send me to bed.”

  He pulled me back into his arms, whispering in my ear. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

  He was such an enigma, swinging from a man seemingly without emotion, as he behaved at the office, to someone who cared that I might be too tired for sex, the way he was right now. It was clear he tried to keep the two personas very separate. “Mm, I kind of prefer the type of guy who fucks me against the wall without caring.”

  He growled, flicking my bra clasp and letting the garment fall so his hands could hold my breasts. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

  “Show me.” This alpha side of Simon fueled my libido.

  His head dipped down. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he tugged it with his teeth, an action that sent waves of electricity down my body to my throbbing sex. He then soothed the bite with the swirling of his tongue. He repeated the motion on the other nipple while his fingers toyed with the first one, bringing them both to sensitive peaks.

  “Get on the bed with your legs spread for me.”

  A shiver lanced through me at his demanding words while my body obeyed. The sight of him looking down upon me in the moonlight was so erotic I thought I might come without actually being touched.

  He stepped closer, bending down and hooking my thong with his thumbs. He pulled it down my legs, leaving me totally exposed for him.

  Since I wanted to view him for the first time, I made a demand of my own. “Let me see you.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Too slowly, in my opinion, but I had to give the man credit for not rushing into things. No fumbling this time around. The wait did not disappoint. I might have glimpsed his muscled chest and impressive abs before, but now here they were for me to soak in. He was beautiful. No other word for it. When his hands moved to his belt, my mouth went dry. I’d never wanted a man the way I wanted Simon.

  He continued to undress with practiced movements, his eyes staying on mine. When he stepped out of his trousers, he was left in nothing but black boxers. Boxers which hugged his trim waist and encased his erection quite nicely. He quickly rid himself of his socks, which I’d yet to see anyone do gracefully. Yet he managed the feat.

  Hoping the boxers might be next in line to hit the floor, I fought my disappointment when instead he moved towards me. My disappointment was short lived once he kissed the inside of my ankle. He skimmed his hands up my calf and followed them with his lips.

  “Oh, God.” This exquisite torture was almost too much. My body was tense, my breathing shallow as he took his infuriating time traveling up to my thigh. Jesus. I was shaking. Anticipating his mouth on the most intimate part of me. He continued to take his time. I snagged a pillow in order to prop up my head to get a better view. His broad shoulders between my thighs and his mouth inches from my pussy had me panting.

  “Please,” I moaned. He was so close. The word slipped out before I could filter it. He drove me more insane by inhaling and then blowing warm breath over my clit.

  “I rushed this last time. Now I’m planning to savor you.”

  I wanted to shout, ‘fuck me,’ yet I also didn’t want to miss out on this slow seduction.

  When his lips converged on my clit, my hips arched off the bed, a shot of pure fire hitting my body. His tongue ran languidly between my lips, flattening out on my most sensitive spot. But then something snapped. His hands hooked under my thighs, lifting my lower half higher, and he dove in like a man possessed. Gone were the patient strokes. In their place was primal and raw. Burning me up from the inside out and causing me to combust in moments. Yet he wasn’t done. His fingers added to the assault, curling up inside of me while his tongue concentrated on my engorged clit.

  It was too much.

  It wasn’t nearly enough.

  I would die from this.

  I’d never felt more alive.

  Conflicting emotions swirled in my head as he brought me to orgasm again. My body spasmed, completely at his mercy and without an anchor. My hands found purchase on his bed sheets, but it wasn’t enough to prepare me for the magnitude of the second orgasm rolling over me. You’d think I would’ve been better equipped after the pleasure he’d given me earlier, but that memory was now faded, this one taking its place.

  I finally came down, realizing the harsh sound of breath was my own. Good Lord. My throat was hoarse, my fingers ached from gripping the bed and—oops—also his hair. One of my hands remained tightly entangled there. “Sorry.”

  He grinned up from between my legs. “Don’t be. You taste incredible. I’d been thinking about it all night, when I’d get the chance to eat your pussy again.”

  He kissed my stomach then and worked his way up to my breasts, lavishing attention on both as if an earthquake hadn’t just happened. He was back to his slow, seductive pace.

  “Kiss me,” I pleaded and watched a smile transform his face. He might be hot when he was stoic, but when he looked happy, he was gorgeous.

  He teased me. The sweet and tangy essence of me was fresh on his lips. I wanted more, hooking my arm around his neck and pulling him into a deep, erotic kiss. But if I’d thought for a moment I was taking control, he quickly dispelled the notion by inserting a finger deep inside of me.

  I gasped with the welcome intrusion and felt him stretch me with another digit.

  “Are you sore?”

  “Not too bad.”

  “Good.” He took my mouth again, his magic fingers bringing me to the edge before they suddenly departed. I was about to protest, but it died on my lips when he stood, shedding his boxers.

  Holy hell. His uncut length was gorgeous. I moved up to my knees, wanting—no, needing—to taste him. The surprise flickered in his eyes when I took a hold of him.

  “I need to taste you, too.”

  As if by my command, a drop of pre-cum appeared on his tip. My tongue swiped over it before I sucked only his crown into my mouth. The salty taste made me want more. I gripped at his base, moving my hand up, pumping him slowly, watching his expression morph into sheer pleasure. I loved knowing it was my touch that was driving him to the point of losing control once again.

  “Christ, Peyton.”

  “Feel good?” I took him deeper, enjoying how it was his turn to lose his breath with the movement.

  “Yes. But lie back.” He pulled away and went to the nightstand where he retrieved a condom.

  I was a bit disappointed I wouldn’t get to finish the blow job but anxious enough to have him back inside of me that it quickly dissipated.

  He encased himself quickly before coming back to the end of the bed and crawling onto the mattress. His hands trailed up my body before he consumed me with another kiss, one that sucked my breath and escalated my heartbeat, while he spread my legs to accommodate the width of his hips.

  Then there was pressure at my opening. He pressed into me. Stretching me deliciously with every inch he went deeper.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he whispered, taking me to root.

  My back arched; I loved how he filled me completely and wanted him to move. But like everything Simon, he took his time. Two long thrusts followed by a few short ones. Then a rotation of his hips, grinding himself to me and hitting a spot few others had managed
. I was building. Climbing towards another orgasm as he increased his cadence. My eyes squeezed shut, and I let the desire wash over me.

  His hands framed my face, forcing me to open my eyes and look into the depths of his. Then he uttered the words I swore were a trigger for release. “I want to watch you come apart. Let me see it and keep those eyes open.”

  Boom. Detonated. During which it was tough not to squeeze my eyes shut. Yet the intimacy ratcheted up, and I watched as he lost himself much the same, pumping out his orgasm before taking my lips in a carnal kiss that would forever stay etched in my memory.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Simon

  Peyton had rocked my world. Unequivocally. Since I’d never subscribed to the notion there was such a thing, it had taken me completely off guard. Now, watching her sleep in the morning light, I found myself in a place I’d never visited, let alone lingered: the land of feelings.

  My first inclination was a shutdown protocol. I wondered if, like a computer, I could reset myself, go back to the start, before I’d begun to develop these foreign feelings. Maybe then I could successfully evade them. But that meant getting out of this warm bed, with her luscious body curled into me, and it meant probably saying something which would inevitably hurt her. It wasn’t an option I wanted to explore. Yet thoughts of the upcoming week and the need to return to the status quo weighed on me. These emotions were such an unknown. They left me in a place that was unbalanced and uneasy.

  I needed to find my handle back on control.

  She shifted in my arms. Her soft brown hair tickled my chest while her intoxicating scent drifted up to my nose and made me squeeze her tighter. I didn’t want this moment to end. But the minute we were back in the office, it would have to. At least I had the car ride back to look forward to. This gave me an idea.

  After slowly extricating myself from the bed, I sent a text to Emma for the slight change in plans, then stepped into my shower. Although it was tempting to wake Peyton, I also wanted her to get some sleep. I was rinsing off when I sensed her, then hearing the shower door shut.

  I turned. I’d thought that after having seen her nude already, I wouldn’t be stunned by her beauty. I was wrong. A somewhat sleepy Peyton with wild hair stepping naked into my shower had me speechless. Her body was incredible. Perky breasts, not too big, not too small. Hips which begged for me to grip them from behind. A flat stomach, soft to the touch. Runner’s legs, long and lean, leading up to a terrific ass. But it was her face, with amber eyes only for me, that made me suck in my breath.

  “Hi,” she greeted, her gaze tracking down my body.

  My cock took notice, standing at attention. “Hi.” I finally found words.

  She stepped closer, under the spray, unconcerned about her hair getting wet, and reached out to grip my quickly hardening length. “I believe we have unfinished business.”

  And just like that, she was sinking to her knees, looking up at me as she took the tip of my length into her mouth. The sensation of her lips surrounding me forced me to reach out one hand to brace myself on the tiled wall. Jesus. The talent of her mouth—The woman was about to bring me to my knees. But when she reached up and gripped my ass, pulling me into her face and giving the green light for me to fuck her mouth, I was positive I’d die from the pleasure.

  I put my free hand, the one which wasn’t keeping me from collapsing, on top of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair, and moving it along with her motion. Christ. She took me deeper. Opening up her throat and hollowing out her cheeks, she sucked harder.

  Suddenly my thighs tensed, my balls tightened. “I’m going to come.”

  She doubled her efforts, clearly wanting to swallow me. It was my undoing. I erupted on her tongue, coming down her throat, and groaning with the image of her swallowing it all down.

  I pulled her up. Then I didn’t hesitate to set her on my built-in shelf and bury my face in her pussy.

  She protested. “At least let me wash first.”

  As if I cared. She smelled like sex, and she’d never tasted better. I had her calling my name in minutes, her perfect cunt contracting around my fingers. I kissed her forehead as I watched her come down from her high and then helped her to her feet. Because I wasn’t done touching her, I took her small bottle of soap and poured some into my hands. Once they were lathered up, I ran them over her breasts and down her stomach straight to her hot center.

  She sucked in a breath when my hand ran over her most delicate parts. After spreading her and washing her intimately, I moved further down her legs.

  “Turn around.” My voice was husky, full of lust as my erection was back to full.

  I soaped up her shoulders and down her back. Then, pouring more, I started at her feet and worked my up. I saved her ass for last, massaging the magnificent globes and pressing my erection into her back. Slipping a hand between her cheeks, I heard her gasp and couldn’t help caressing a finger over her pucker, suddenly wanting her there, too, someday. A myriad of possible positions crossed my mind.

  Abruptly, I stepped back. This was dangerous, starting to think as though we’d have every night to explore those options. “I’ll leave you to wash your hair.”

  As much as I wanted to sink deep inside of her again, there was the matter of a condom. I certainly didn’t have one in the shower. But the bigger reason was it would be too easy to get attached. I didn’t do attached, just as I didn’t do long-term plans. In the next two to three weeks, I’d be gone, traveling to the next city, if I did return to Dallas, it would only be for a short time. True, she understood the limitations, but I shouldn’t be giving her mixed signals about wanting more. Because I didn’t. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

  She merely smiled, giving me another kiss as if she didn’t understand I was distancing myself. That I was mentally preparing myself for what next week would hold when I had to start interviewing all of her friends and long-time colleagues. When I would not be her favorite person.

  After breakfast and once were all packed up for the long ride home, we left the building for the limo pulled up out front.

  She looked surprised by the vehicle.

  I’d hired it for privacy on the drive back. But that wasn’t exactly screaming relationship distance, was it, when I changed plans to obtain a car in which I could be naked with her across the country? Then again, perhaps that’s what we needed to get one another out of our systems. To let the fire burn down to manageable embers.

  “Why the limo?” she asked, climbing inside with a twinkle in her eyes. She evidently already knew the real answer.

  “I thought it would be more comfortable.” I could barely contain my grin now. Like a horny nineteen-year-old about to get laid.

  “Hm. Comfortable for what, pray tell?”

  As soon as the door was shut and we were cocooned in our own little world, I moved beside her on the bench seat, taking her hand and kissing it gently. “For whatever you want. I figure it’ll be the last marathon before we have to go back to normal.”

  Because I had to be bluntly honest, I put it out there. “Once we’re back in the office on Monday, we may not get a lot of time together outside of work. I’ll have to start interviewing your coworkers, some of which include your friends. It won’t be the same.”

  I let the words sink in. Waited for her questions about where this left us. Or the indignation over my power to say who stayed with the company to which she had devoted her career. Or the flash of disappointment that I’d basically told her we’d have to return to a completely professional relationship, at least at the office.

  But none of that came. Instead, she wore a knowing expression, hinting at her perception.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Peyton

  I wondered when Simon’s work persona would make its appearance into this new development of our relationship. I wasn’t stupid. Nor was I naïve enough to think, come Monday, the dynamic wouldn’t change once we returned to the office. I was walking into this
with eyes wide open. This relationship was both temporary and complicated, given we had to work together. But I did think it funny that while he was throwing out disclaimers, trying to maintain his control, he’d also ordered a limo in order to facilitate alone time out of sight of the driver. Not that I was complaining. I was all for it. But first, it was important to get a few things straight. I started in as soon as we were both seated in the back, quite alone.

  “Although you said I wouldn’t have to do another interview, I think I should have one.”

  He seemed thrown by my statement. “You’re up for CFO. It goes without saying they’d want you in your current position at least. So you don’t need an interview.”

  “I know I don’t need one. But you have me for the next twenty-four hours. I’ve been curious what an interview with Simon Granger would be like.”

  “It would be in the office, to start.”

  His stern tone almost made me smile. “Where everyone can hear through the walls? Wouldn’t it be better to conduct it in private?”

  An apprehensive look passed over his face, indicating he wasn’t sure where I was going with this. Perfect.

  “Hit me with your first question. What you would typically ask me if it was you still doing the interview?”

  He backed up a bit on the black leather bench seat, moving far enough that we weren’t touching. Then he tried to take on an air of authority.

  “Okay. What makes you qualified for your current role?”

  I grinned. “Such a cliché question. I expected something harder.”

  Challenge flashed in his eyes. I knew I was probably both amusing and annoying him.

  “Meaning you won’t answer it.”

  “Of course I will. I’m qualified for my current role because I do the job. I put in the work. Not only for the position I was hired for, but also as the acting CFO. Since the previous officer’s retirement, all of his duties have become mine.”

  “And what qualities make you good at your job?”