"Shhhh…" I rock him gently as his head burrows deeper into my chest. "He'll always be your friend."
Time passes slowly as the shaking of Simon's shoulders finally lessens. I continue to murmur nonsense, stroking his back until the gentle rise and fall of his chest assures me that he's drifted off to sleep. Shifting again carefully, afraid to wake him, I fumble to pull the duvet over both of us until sleep pulls me under to join him.
* * *
A squeak of the door awakens me to find Heath leaning against the doorframe, watching me and Simon sleep. At least this time, everyone has clothes on. Pulling the duvet aside, I groan slightly as I realize somewhere along the way Simon apparently shed his. The naked back is skinnier than I'd like, although the long legs and tight cheeks make my palms itch to run down their length.
At least I still have clothes on.
Lifting a finger to my lips, I tilt my head toward Simon and swing my legs off the bed to follow Heath's retreating back toward the kitchen.
"What time is it?" I yawn, my hand rubbing his back as I pass. "How is Brutus? Is he going crazy without Simon?"
"Just out of curiosity, was I ever going to be enough for you?" Heath's tight voice surprises me.
"What are you talking about?" I stop, coffee pot in hand, the water overflowing from the spigot to cascade down its sides.
"Was it ever going to be you and me? Or was I just a convenient add on? I thought maybe when you decided to kick Mark to the curb that I had finally moved to the front of the line. That you realized that together, we were enough. Instead, you were just waiting to add Simon to the rotation. He's not in your guest room, he's in your bed. So, I'm asking, is there a reason for me to be here?"
"Of course I want you here! How can you ask me that?" Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. "I love you, independent of anyone else that's part of this. No one else makes me feel the way you do."
"Really? I'm finding that hard to believe." Every hard plane of his face makes me ache to run my fingers along the sharp edges and ease the tense muscles, but the crossed arms and wide-legged stance keep me frozen. I'm close enough to touch, yet feel like there's a canyon between us, and I don't know how to bridge the gap.
"Heath, what do you need to hear to believe it? Just tell me, and I'll say the words. I know this is difficult, for all of us. I didn't deliberately create an excuse to have Simon in my bed, but I won't deny that I want him there, just as much as I want you there."
"What about Mark?"
"Things with Mark are…complicated. But I don't want them to be. I need some time to figure out how to forgive."
"None of this works until you do. You realize that, right? It puts pressure on everyone in this relationship."
"Again, I'm surprised that you care if you're so intent on getting rid of the competition. Which is it? You keep claiming that you want me all to yourself, yet you keep pushing me to allow Mark back in. You say you're upset about Simon in my bed, yet I don't feel any real outrage. What is it that you want, Heath?"
"I just want to know that I'm not an afterthought! That I'm not the back up! That there's something real between us. I need my daughter to see that I'm not a fuck up. That I'm a man worth loving."
Horrified, I sag against the counter. "Of course you're a man worth loving. Tracey knows that. You think she blames you for the divorce? How could she ever believe that when Lori is with a woman now instead of you? There's no way you could have ever competed with that. She's smart enough to understand the difference."
"Is she?"
"Yes. You know why? Because you show her that every day. It's obvious she adores you. You're her hero."
"Then why does she keep asking if I'm ok?"
"Because she wants to see you happy the way Lori and Shana are. She loves you too much to watch you get left behind. You just need to show her that you're creating something for yourself."
"I'm trying," Heath says quietly. "She keeps asking why you haven't been over lately, and I don't have any good answers."
"I'm sorry." Stepping into the breach, I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and tilt my head up to his. "Let's make a solid date for dinner at your house so she and I can both spoil you. Just give me a few days to get Simon back on track. I think I know how to help him now."
Squeezing me to him tightly, Heath rests his chin on my head with a sigh.
"Don't take too long, ok? I really miss you."
Reaching up to capture his lips with mine, I put every bit of longing I feel for him into the kiss. "Me, too. Soon. You and I need a weekend in bed."
"Sold." Kissing me deeply again, Heath's hands lift me under my ass to press me closer to the bulge expanding in his pants, before he reluctantly allows some distance between us again.
Hands roam up and down my back, strong fingers suddenly digging into my hips in emphasis.
"Take care of Simon, but don't get lost along the way."
"I promise. I love you."
"I love you, too. Tell Simon that Brutus was asleep on Tracey's bed when I left." Pulling away, he runs one hand tenderly down my hair before making his way toward the front door.
At the small snick of the latch, I lean against the counter, relief racing through my veins until my stomach rumbles. Time to make some lunch.
* * *
I'm relieved to finally hear Simon's footfalls. The stacks of clothes neatly folded on the daybed are ready to go back into my bedroom. I finally gave up on the exercise ball, shoving it in the closet, and cleared a year's worth of bills into piles to be filed or shredded.
Seven o'clock. We've lost most of the day, but it's good that Simon has slept so long. I'm hoping our talk helped him release some of the anger and sadness he's obviously been holding on to that’s prevented him from moving on.
"What are you doing?"
My lips tilt into a smile at his sleepy voice while I carefully examine his face, noting a slight easing of the shadows under his eyes. The amount of fluids they pumped into his system probably helped as well. My eyes linger on the bare chest, the flame tattoos wrapping around one side of his torso to dip down into the sweatpants slung low across his hips.
"I'm cleaning up the room for you. I wasn't expecting a guest, and it's been a while since I had someone to stay."
A small frown mars the handsome, but now scruffy face. Small lines fan from the edges of his eyes, reminding me that Simon's not getting any younger either. Whatever happened to feeling like I still had decades to play and do something extraordinary in the world? These days, catch up seems to be the name of the game.
Bouncing gingerly on the thin daybed mattress, Simon winces and shifts uncomfortably.
"I like your bed better. You have a cozy set up. I'm sure I'd be more comfortable there." Scratching absently at his inner arm, he disturbs the band-aid covering the former IV site, causing blood to well to the surface.
"Stop that!" I scold sharply. "Look what you're doing to yourself. Honestly, you need a keeper."
His tired but unrepentant grin forces me to smile in return. "You're hired, luv. I'm yours to keep."
"Nice try." I grab his hand, pulling him from the daybed and into the bathroom. "Sit."
Pointing to the closed toilet seat, I wait for him to follow my directions while I rummage through the medicine cabinet for alcohol and bandaids.
"I'm serious," he says softly, big eyes lifted toward mine. "I need you, Josie."
"You're not a stray puppy without a home, Simon, so don't give me those sad eyes." Avoiding his gaze, I swipe at the blood before dabbing on some antibiotic ointment and covering it with a band-aid.
"Aren't you going to kiss it and make it better?" he asks, waiting for me to decide.
Nodding slowly, I lift his arm closer, leaning down to place a gentle kiss in the crook of his arm. As I pull away, Simon's hand grasps the back of my head, a question in his eyes, waiting for me to lean in further, before finally settling his lips against mine.
Chapter 43
The Impossible Dream
Simon's hands grab my ass, yanking me forward to straddle his legs before pulling me into his lap. My arms creep around his neck, my lips fusing to his before I come to my senses and pull back to admonish him.
"Slow down." My hand drifts down his chest, registering the steady beat of his heart against my palm. "You just got out of the hospital. You need time to heal."
"Nothing would make me feel better more than to slide up against you, luv," he murmurs, lips nipping at my ear and down my neck temptingly.
"Come on, Simon. I said I was going to take care of you, and I meant it."
"Good." He settles me more firmly over his growing bulge, and I gasp. "I'm ready to be taken care of." Bouncing me slightly, his hand pulls the drawstring on his sweatpants, allowing them to drift over the head of his cock, straining to reach me.
"No." I reach down to fondle the head gently, feeling it jerk in my hand, before pulling away. "At the very least, come to bed. If you get some more sleep, maybe I'll consider taking care of you later."
"I am a bit tired," he admits. "Despite all evidence to the contrary." His smile is apologetic as he softens slightly in my hand, a large yawn making his chest rise and fall heavily.
"Let me make the bed in the guest room." I try to rise, only to find myself held captive by his hands.
"Your bed." The wheedling tone is like that of a child knowing that they're asking for something they're not allowed, but hoping desperately that it will be granted.
"Fine." I roll my eyes. "My bed."
Finally releasing his grip on my thighs, he allows me to stand, slipping behind me, one hand wrapped around my stomach, guiding my body with his own.
"You haven't eaten anything today. You really should eat before you go back to sleep." My voice chokes slightly as he kicks off the sweatpants, standing before me in all his naked glory. And he is glorious—lanky and sinewy, even his cock is narrow but long in a semi-hard state.
"Maybe later." One fine ass is displayed to my hungry eyes as he crawls across the bed before patting the mattress next to him. "Tired now."
"Exactly, so you should sleep."
Making waving motions with his arm, he insists that I join him, refusing to settle down until I do. Afraid he's going to open the puncture wound from his IV again with all the motion, I finally relent, easing onto the mattress next to him.
"I'm warning you," I caution, staring at his sinewy body and gesturing to my own, "all this flesh is like a squishy foam mattress."
"Brilliant, luv. That means it's designed to mold perfectly to my body." Pulling me to him, I realize he's right as his body wraps effortlessly around mine, like a child clutching his favorite stuffed animal that comforts him to sleep.
* * *
I'm startled awake by Daisy's yelp and Simon's curse as I struggle upright from the bed.
"Daisy, where are you, baby?"
"I think I stepped on her tail," Simon says, an apology in his voice from where he stands shadowed in the half light of the bathroom.
"Are you ok?" I focus on Simon as a soft thump hits the mattress and Daisy creeps tentatively toward me. My hands pull her into my lap to stroke her ears as she starts to purr.
"Just thirsty."
"Well, I'm not surprised. You were dehydrated, although they did give you a lot of fluids."
"I think it was just the medication making me dry."
"It's two am. Can you go back to sleep, or do you want me to make you something to eat? You must be hungry."
Snapping off the bathroom light, his shadow stalks toward me, my eyes dilating to see him in the dark.
"I'm starving." Reaching the bed, his hands push me backward, startling Daisy off my lap with a hiss. "This looks tasty." Dipping his head, his lips latch onto my nipple through my t-shirt, before pulling back. "Let's unwrap it properly."
Tugging at the hem of my shirt, Simon drags the fabric upward toward my shoulders, forcing me to roll free.
"Ahhh, much better." His lips latch back onto my nipple now puckered in the cool air, stiffening it with small licks and bites that make me squirm.
Busy hands work at the tie of my sweatpants until his hand can dip into the waistband to finger the wetness growing between my legs.
"Simon, you really need to take it easy. I don't think your body is ready for so much activity." I gasp as one finger dips inside me, wiggling around the perimeter before plunging further and quickly joined by a second. Holy Mother of God! Good Vibez, indeed.
"You're right, luv." Pulling his hand free from my waistband, he grasps it with both hands, dragging my waistband down my hips and thighs until we're both naked in the low light.
Climbing across me, he grabs my hips, rolling and pulling me to sit astride his body.
"I guess you'll have to do all the work." His fingers dig into my ass, kneading and massaging as he settles me more firmly across his thighs, his cock lying heavily across his belly, swelling with desire.
I can't resist the temptation to lean over his body and pressing butterfly kisses along his chest, using my tongue to chase the edges of his flame tattoo before nibbling on the flat nipples like copper pennies.
Bracing my hands on his chest, I raise my hips slightly before grasping the slim length of his cock and guiding it into my center. The heat of his body fuses with mine, a groan joining us together in pleasure as I wiggle to adjust my hips, allowing him to burrow deeper into my body.
Bucking his hips slightly into mine, he admonishes me gently, "Your move, luv. Feed me."
As if of their own volition, my hips rise above him before easing myself back down, repeating the motion again and again, adjusting fractionally each time until he hits just the spot I need.
The rise and fall of his chest matches my motions, until finally, he grabs the backs of my thighs, bucking his hips more firmly against me, pounding a tempo that has the cushion of my ass slapping loudly against his thighs. Bracing my arms behind me, I arch my back, riding him until his rhythm changes, small circles now punctuating the thrusts, making me gasp.
Bending forward, I get lower to his body, biting my lip as his cock now slides more firmly against my clit, the tension building. A hand tangles in my hair, bringing his lips to mine as we both gasp and breathe each other in, our breaths just as deep as the tongue plunging into my mouth and sliding against my own.
Stars explode behind my eyes unexpectedly, my back arching into the motion and forcing him deeper until, with a few more quick thrusts, the hot stream of his release inside me makes me collapse across his chest before rolling to his side.
A hand grasps mine, fingers twining damply together, each of us struggling to catch our breath as his head dips to plant a kiss on my hair.
"Thank you." His words are simple but heartfelt, and my eyes water slightly, grateful for a moment that could have ended so differently less than twenty-four hours ago.
"You're going to be ok," I whisper in the dark, squeezing his hand tighter.
"We both are." His words are a promise as he rolls me toward him to snuggle into his body, damp with our spent desire. And for once, I believe him.
* * *
My concerns about ditching work for a week finally ease on day two with a phone call from Patsy.
"Josie, are you ok? Nate said you were taking a short leave of absence."
"Hey, Patsy. I'm sorry, I should have called you." I curse my luck. I had hoped she wouldn't notice, but this is what happens when you're under a microscope. "A good friend ended up in the hospital, and they needed a hand. They don't have family around here, so I couldn't just leave them alone."
"I hope they'll be ok." I'm relieved by the concern in her voice, and shocked that it isn't immediately followed by a reprimand.
"They're on the mend. They just need a little extra support for a few days."
"Well, make sure they get it."
I release my breath in relief, still confused but thankful.
"Nate assures me he has everything unde
r control. Now, are you sitting down?" Her rising excitement is apparent, even over the phone.
"What now?" I ask apprehensively. All of Patsy's calls have become a pattern of disaster for me lately. I don't know how many more surprises I can take.
"Corporate got a call from the Kitchen Network." She pauses dramatically. "They offered us the opportunity to do a launch party for Mark Isaacs' new show! Of course, corporate tried to get them to do it in one of the New York stores, but they were adamant they wanted it in yours since Philly is where his restaurant is. Isn't that great! Your screw up actually got us better press than we would have gotten with the original event, because Kitchen will be promoting it now, too!"
Patsy's voice is positively gleeful as I listen to her gloat, stunned by the news. Well, Mark came through finally. Better late than never, I guess. I'm relieved to have the whole stupid episode behind us, but it doesn't change anything really. The innate problem still exists.
Well, at least Patsy will get off my back and I can stop obsessing over every sale.
I'm also relieved that Emma's finally back. I never realized how antsy I get without her solid presence to ground me. We've skipped our usual girls’ night since Simon is here, but I took advantage of Simon's enforced bedtime—yes, I put him on a strict schedule—to catch her up on all the details of everything that has been happening. To say she was shocked would be putting it mildly.
"What the fuck was he thinking?" she rages, warming my heart with her unconditional support.
"He was thinking of himself," I say. "Can you believe he keeps insisting that it wasn't a big deal, like I shouldn't care that he nearly imploded my whole career?"
"Not Mark. Simon," she confirms.
"Oh. Well, that's a little more personal. Without sharing secrets that aren't mine, I can say pretty definitively that it was an accident. Besides, I won't let him get to that point again."
Corsets and Quartets Page 40
