Easy Kisses

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Easy Kisses Page 7

by Kristen Proby


  “That’s not what I suggested,” he says and shakes his head. “You didn’t listen well on the day about communication.”

  “How am I wrong?”

  “I asked you to stay. You assume that means that all I want is a weekend of sex.”

  “I just told you that I don’t want something long term.”

  “Bloody Jesus,” he mutters and paces my room, rubbing his mouth with his fingers. “Sex doesn’t have to be a part of the equation.”

  “Right.” I snort and cross my arms. “Because we’re so not attracted to each other. You’ve undressed me with your eyes at least a dozen times since you’ve been in my room.”

  “It’s not a difficult task, darling; you’re practically naked already.”

  “Granted.” I nod and sit on the edge of the bed. “So you just want to hang out all weekend?”

  “Why not?” he replies and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve enjoyed talking with you and spending time with you. I want more of that.”

  “And no sex,” I reply dryly.

  “If you prefer it that way,” he says with a shrug. “I want nothing more than to fuck you for days, but if that makes you uncomfortable, we can take it off the table. I’m not an asshole.”

  “No,” I agree and watch him for a moment. “You’re not.”

  “I’ll pay to have your ticket changed,” he offers.

  I bite my lip and consider him. I can call and let the pilot know that I won’t need him for a couple more days, but I don’t feel comfortable yet telling Simon that I have access to a private jet, so I just shake my head and reply, “That’s not necessary.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I have to leave Sunday afternoon so I can be at work on Monday. I’ve left my shop for too long as it is.”

  “Did you buy the red heels you were wearing tonight at your shop?”

  “Of course.”

  He grins, a wide Cheshire cat smile. “Charly?”

  “I’ll stay.” And I’ll enjoy every minute of him, then go home and move on.

  “Excellent.” His eyes are hot as they travel over my body.

  “Sex doesn’t have to be off the table.” I smirk and stand, facing him. “I’m not a teenager. Let’s enjoy the weekend. But don’t play mind games with me, Simon.”

  He scowls and takes my hand in his, then raises my fingers to his lips. “It hurts my heart that you’ve had the kind of past experience that makes you need to give me that warning.”

  Oh God, this could be a bad idea.

  The butterflies are back in my stomach and I feel my cheeks flush with pure lust. The things this man does to my body are insane.

  “There’s no love here,” I reply softly. “But there will be respect and honesty, or I’m out the door.”

  “Deal,” he says. “Both ways.”

  “Of course.”

  He slowly sinks his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck and leans into me. “Thank you, Charly.”

  “Thanks for the invitation. Are we going to keep separate rooms?”

  “Hell no,” he says with a grin. “We’ll move you into mine.”

  “Why yours?”

  “Because it’s bigger, and I’m staying longer than you.”

  “Good reasons.” I can’t breathe with him this close to me. He could have suggested that we’d be staying in a yurt and I would have agreed. “Should we move in now?”

  “Fuck no, we’re going to take that shower.”

  ***

  “You are a popcorn hog,” I accuse Simon as we leave the movies the next evening. We saw the latest Marvel superhero movie, which I love.

  “I am not,” he replies and takes my hand as we walk out to the car. He’s very affectionate and chivalrous, which is new to me. He always holds my hand, opens doors, and a whole host of other manners that I didn’t even know existed outside of my own family.

  He’s dangerous for me, because I can’t have him and I feel more for him than I ever did Ryan. Or for anyone, now that I think about it.

  “You ate plenty of the popcorn,” he continues.

  “No, I just stopped putting my hand in harm’s way. I thought for sure you might take it off.”

  “Okay, drama queen,” he says with a laugh. “What now?”

  “I have a sweet tooth,” I reply. “Let’s stop somewhere for dessert.”

  “My pleasure.”

  We find an ice cream place in town that’s open late, so we stop in and each order a sundae, then find a table to enjoy our treats.

  “What does cupcake ice cream taste like?” Simon asks me as he spoons up his chocolate.

  “Here.” I hold my spoon up to his lips and watch as he takes the bite and nods.

  “Good.”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “You have a sexy mouth.”

  “Keep talking like that,” he says and takes another bite of his own ice cream. “I dare you.”

  “You dare me?” I raise a brow. “What will happen if I do?”

  “I’ll take you out to the car and suck your clit until you come all over my mouth,” he replies without looking up from his ice cream, as if he’s talking about the damn weather. “You’re sweeter than this ice cream.”

  “God, Simon.” Hello, wet panties.

  “I won’t warn you again,” he says and meets my gaze with his.

  “Tell me about your parents.” I offer him an angelic smile and lick my spoon, changing the subject.

  “Muriel and Charles Danbury,” he replies.

  “Are you close to them?”

  “Very,” he says. “They usually come with me to these seminars, but Mum recently had a knee surgery, and Dad is nursing her to health.”

  “How long have they been married?” Finished with my ice cream, I set the cup aside and lean on the table, resting my chin in my fist and listening to the British in Simon’s voice.

  “Thirty-three years.”

  “They had you quickly.” I smile and watch the warm smile come to his face.

  “And I was a handful. I was a sickly child.” He pushes his own cup away and leans on his elbows. “I had apnea issues as a baby, so I was in the hospital for three months.”

  “You stopped breathing? That must have been terrifying!”

  “I’m told it was.” He nods and reaches for my hand. “Mum was always a stay-at-home mother when I was little, so she stayed at the hospital full time with me and Dad came around his work schedule.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Aren’t you the curious one?” He grins at me and keeps talking. I love his voice. “He’s retired now, but he was a professor at university. After I went to high school, Mum went back to school as well to become a teacher, and she just retired last year from teaching primary school. She retired early so she could enjoy it with Dad.”

  “That’s awesome,” I reply and rub the back of his hand with my thumb.

  “Sometimes, when they join me on these trips, my dad will take one of the afternoon lecture sessions and teach it himself. He gets a kick out of it.”

  “I think it’s wonderful that you include the people closest to you in your business.”

  “There’s no one else I’d rather have with me,” he says. “They’re the ones I can trust implicitly.”

  “I can understand that. I have a small staff at the store, and I’m finally confident in who I have working for me. But it was a process. I had girls steal from me, girls who were lazy, girls who couldn’t show up to work on time. A strong work ethic isn’t necessarily ingrained in everyone the way it was in me and my siblings.”

  “No, it’s not,” he agrees with a smile. “And once you’ve been burned, you get very protective.”

  “Trust is hard to replace once it’s gone,” I add. “It’s harder for Eli, Beau, and Van.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, the shipping business is much bigger than my shop, and they deal with betrayal all the time. Just a couple of years ago, Eli’s
wife, Kate, was poisoned by a coworker.”

  “No way,” he says, his blue eyes wide.

  “It’s the truth. The coworker didn’t want to get caught embezzling funds, and she knew that Kate has a peanut allergy and fed them to her. It was horrible.”

  “What is wrong with people?” he asks with a frown.

  “You’re the expert. You tell me.”

  “I’m no expert on sociopathic behavior,” he replies with a laugh. “But I can talk about self-esteem and flirting all day long.”

  “And you do,” I say with a nod. “It’s not rough, listening to you speak.”

  “I should hope not. Women invest a lot of time and money to do so.”

  “The information is good. And the package it comes in is also good.”

  “They do not come to see me just because they think I look good.”

  I cock a brow and smile at his obvious discomfort.

  “I believe it was Shelly who went home a week early when she discovered that this wasn’t a way to get in your pants.”

  When I realize what I’ve said, I dissolve into giggles and Simon looks on with a wide grin.

  “You’re funny.”

  “It’s just ironic, is all.”

  “Shelly had no chance in hell,” Simon says and kisses my hand. “And that doesn’t happen often. Some women do flirt, but on the whole, they’re just nice people who need help in certain areas of their life, and they come here seeking that help.”

  “It’s a great thing that you do.” Now it’s my turn to kiss his hand. “When Van has had a chance to heal a bit, I’ll recommend she come.”

  “If she’s anything like you, she’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

  I sit back, surprised. “What a lovely compliment.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  I blink at him for a moment, then stand and throw our cups away. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk around the lake.”

  “After dark?” he asks.

  “Don’t worry. I’m strong. I’ll protect you.”

  ***

  “We haven’t moved from this bed all day.”

  “That’s not true,” Simon says and drags his large hand down my back to my ass, then grips it tightly. “We stared at the baby eagles for an hour this morning and I answered the door four times for room service.”

  I stare dubiously at all four of the trays on the table by the window. “We should call someone to come get those.”

  “I figure we’ll just order more food soon, so what’s the point?” He plants his lips on my head and hugs me tight.

  I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to all of this affection. Simon gives good hug.

  “I should get up and start getting ready to go.”

  It’s been hanging over me like a cloud all day. Each time I look at the clock, I count the hours that I have left with him.

  Now it’s only two.

  Suddenly, I’m flipped onto my back and he’s hovering over me, his arms flexed and strong next to my shoulders. His pelvis is cradled against mine, and my hands happily find their way down his spine to his rock hard ass.

  God, his ass is ridiculously amazing.

  “What are you thinking?” he whispers.

  “I like your ass,” I reply and watch with wonder as his face lights up. It does that a lot when he looks at me. “I’m not much of a deep thinker.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” he says and rocks his hips, making my eyes cross. He’s growing against me and I can’t wait to feel him inside me again.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking—” he presses his mouth to mine, but rather than kiss me, he just rests here, barely touching me, watching me. “That I’m going to make love to you right now, and then I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon pampering you.”

  “That sounds nice,” I reply, enjoying the way his mouth tickles mine. I feel him reach down to protect both of us, then he rears back and slips effortlessly inside me, then stops when he’s buried balls deep. “God, you feel good.”

  “You feel bloody amazing,” he says and leans back so he can brush my hair off my cheeks. His fingertips lightly dance over my skin. “You’re beautiful.”

  I clench around him and arch my hips, but he doesn’t pick up the speed.

  “We always take things fast,” he says and kisses me again. “But this might be our last time together, and I’m going to take it soft and slow, love.”

  My eyes want to fill at the thought of this being our last time, so I close them and bite my lip as he begins to move in long, slow strokes.

  “You are simply breathtaking,” he whispers. “Open your eyes, Charlotte.”

  I comply, relieved that the tears have passed and now I’m simply caught up in him, his body, his voice, his incredible eyes.

  “You are amazing,” I say and cup his face in my hands. You’re so much more than the sex. But I don’t say it, I just kiss him and am caught up in this unbelievable wave of lust and affection, and before long I have the most intense orgasm of my life.

  “Fucking hell,” he groans against my lips and falls apart with me. We hold each other tightly for a long moment, and then without a word, he rises from the bed and walks into the bathroom. Before long, I hear the bathtub start and he comes back into the room wrapped in a robe and holding a smaller one out to me. “Follow me.”

  “Now you want me to be modest?” I ask with a laugh, but he just smiles.

  “Trust me.”

  I do.

  I shrug into the robe and follow him into the bathroom. The tub is filling with a delightful aroma of lilacs.

  “There aren’t any bubbles.”

  “It’s oil, not bubble bath,” he replies, but turns to me. “Would you prefer bubbles?”

  “No, this is great. It smells wonderful.”

  “Have a seat.” He points to the vanity chair, and I comply. “Face the mirror.”

  “You’re terribly bossy.”

  He just cocks a brow, and I do as he asks. He moves up behind me and brushes my hair out as we wait for the tub to fill. I haven’t had anyone else brush my hair since I was a child.

  Well, my hairdresser doesn’t count.

  “You’re good at that,” I comment.

  “You have pretty hair,” he replies. When it’s brushed thoroughly, he pulls it up into a knot on top of my head. “There, it won’t get wet.”

  He’s so thoughtful.

  He takes my hand and leads me to the tub. He opens the belt and parts the robe, and lets his hands duck inside to tease my breasts and glide down my sides before slipping my robe off my shoulders.

  He hangs it on the hook behind him, then turns and helps me into the tub.

  “Oh, this is nice.”

  “Is it too warm?”

  “No, it’s perfect.” I sink down and let out a deep sigh of contentment. We’ve had a lot of sex this weekend. That coupled with the walks around the lake and my muscles are weary.

  This bath is exactly what I needed.

  I close my eyes and lean back, listening to Simon bustle about the room, and the next thing I know, he’s lathered up a washcloth and is dragging it over my body.

  My eyes fly open to find him sitting on the vanity chair at the side of the tub, still in the robe.

  “You’re not joining me?”

  “No, this is just for you.”

  I don’t understand him. I’ve never known anyone so selfless. It almost makes me feel guilty, and that’s something I’m going to have to think about later.

  “You’re good with a washcloth.”

  His lips twitch as his eyes follow his hand over my body.

  “Tell me about the scars on your arm,” I say.

  “I already did when we were hiking.”

  “No, you told me the Cliffs Notes version.”

  He scowls, but he begins talking.

  “My ex-wife was a difficult woman.”

  Ex-wife? I had no idea he’d been married.


  “I won’t get into all of her issues, because I’m enjoying this time with you and I don’t want to fuck it up. The gist of it is, I found her fucking a friend of mine—”

  I gasp.

  “And when I told her that I’d be filing for divorce, she went crazy. Attacked me, and managed to drag her nails down my arm before I got her off of me.”

  “Holy shit, Simon.”

  “That was a while ago.”

  “When?”

  He stops washing me and looks in my eyes. “Three years.”

  “Before all of this uber success?”

  “Yes,” he says and sighs. “The success has really only happened in the past year or so. It was a surprise to me, honestly.”

  “I told you last night, you have a good product, and a handsome package. I know, I’ve seen it.” I grin, and he tweaks my nipple as punishment.

  “Cheeky girl.” He grins. “What I mean is, it happened fast. I went from giving small workshops in London to large seminars in the US, TV appearances, my own radio show, a bestselling book, and more.”

  “That’s an impressive resume.”

  “I’m glad that the drama with Amy happened before the career exploded because I don’t think I could have done both.”

  “You’ve done great,” I reply with a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  Finally, when he’s done getting me nice and clean, and I’m both relaxed and turned on all over again, he leads me out of the bath and dries me off, wraps me back in the robe, and leads me to the bedroom.

  Where a massage table has been set up.

  “How in the world did this happen?”

  “I arranged it,” he replies, as if it’s just that simple.

  Then again, in Simon’s world, it probably is.

  He takes the robe again and motions for me to lie face down on the table. I don’t know how long I lie here, but he takes his time massaging every inch of me, then flips me over and repeats the process until I’m a pile of mushy goo.

  But then, his oily hands slip between my legs and he takes me for the most delicious ride. His movements are fluid, firm, and before I know it, I’m having an intense orgasm.

  “Wow, so that’s what a happy ending feels like.”

 

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