1-Chloe-Kate-Bella

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1-Chloe-Kate-Bella Page 8

by Unknown


  “I only issue one warning,” she snarled dangerously.

  “Dinner at your father’s…”

  “Been there, done that didn’t care for the service,” Chloe gestured to the car. “Go back and inform him that I will select a restaurant and phone in the time and place some time this week. Get inside and go away…”

  She wasn’t sure how she let the passenger out of her peripheral vision until she saw Simon step around her. She watched the man elbow him sharply in the side and swore loudly when his hand wrapped in her hair with a pull.

  “Hair pulling? You sissy girl! That hurts, you moron,” was her growling reaction, her arm rounding flexibly to sweep the wooden stick behind his knees, buckling him to the ground. That released her hair and her elbow came down hard on his ribs. She heard one crack and bounced immediately to her feet. She backed up with Simon close at her side. “Get your friend and leave me alone,” she glanced past him. “You’ve attracted attention and I wonder who will be believed when the police arrive…”

  The sticks were lowered but her guard was not down until they were sitting in the car and headed back to his house. Simon rubbed his side as they entered the house.

  “Why did you agree to meet with him?”

  “Because he won’t stop until I do,” Chloe rubbed her scalp, digging in her pocket for a cloth covered band. “That is why I wear a braid,” she mumbled, fingers deftly weaving the thick hair. “Simon, it really might be best if…”

  “Don’t even go there. I don’t run from fights and I definitely will not be denying myself your time or presence because of some power hungry businessman,” he crossed the room, his palms out and on her shoulders, pulling her into his kiss while she was still digesting his words.

  Chloe felt the strength in him and her body responded to it positively, gravitating toward it without pause. The anticipation that had been flaring in them both burst into a wide stream of heat that threatened to consume them in its hunger.

  Simon made no attempt to temper or hide the desire and a part of him was wildly excited in the fact that the raw need was being met and returned in their kiss. He groaned, a low sound emanating from deep with his chest. Aggressive and not the least bit in doubt, this was pure hunger, not a mild, slow seduction. Maybe it was the residue of the adrenaline of the mornings encounter, he thought briefly, savoring the soft fullness of her mouth over and over.

  For the first time in her life, Chloe allowed the veils of control to melt away, her fingers splaying out and caressing heavily over his sides to squeeze between his hands and circle his neck. She clung to him, pressing seductively against him, vaguely aware that she was on her toes now.

  His mouth trailed a wet line from her lips to her chin, nipping on her throat. He felt the back of the sofa behind his legs and angled them out before leaning into the fall, his arms tightly holding her in place.

  “You’re not being practical, Simon,” she whispered, even as she swallowed a mild gasp and shivered from the electric tingles sent coursing through her from his bite. Her palms grasped his face and held him in place and her above him. “Listen to me.” A low groan broke free when his hands continued their move, onto her behind with a taunting pull against what she’d begun in the male.

  “I can’t kiss and listen at the same time?” Simon reluctantly loosened his fingers after a few savory squeezes. “I really like your behind.”

  Chloe wasn’t sure where the giggle came from. Next thing she knew, her head had fallen to his shoulder and she was laughing. Only seconds before silent streams of tears soaked his shoulder.

  Simon managed to right them, one arm holding her tightly against him while the other stroked and brushed the hair back from her face. His cheek rested softly on her head, raising only when she pushed against his chest, very damp palms out to wipe over her shorts.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for, babe, you know where the bathroom is…I’ll be in the kitchen.” Simon watched her walk away, her hands raking back the red hair with long, slim fingers.

  Chloe leaned on the dark counter top, hands splashing cold water on her face repeatedly and refusing to look in the mirror when she raised her head.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Not really,” Chloe hitched the stool closer and perched to watch him pull things from the fridge for sandwiches. Nice thick slices of soft bread, cheeses and meats. Sliced tomatoes and lettuce with mustard. Her stomach growled. “Embarrassed. Tired. Frightened. Angry…I really think anger might be at the top of the list at the moment.”

  “So tell me about those martial arts moves you practice.”

  Chloe shrugged and accepted the plate with bread and began building her sandwich after a healthy dose of yellow mustard on the bottom. “I’ve studied several of the art forms…and copied things I’ve watched.”

  “And the thing with sticks?”

  Chloe met his gaze just before taking a big bite of her masterpiece. “I actually stole those from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. She had some nifty moves.” She chewed thoughtfully. “It’s amazingly therapeutic, especially when provoked. I don’t like being provoked. I don’t like people mucking about in my life when it’s gliding along simply and peacefully.”

  “I know the feeling,” he agreed, rolling a slice of Swiss cheese around in a piece of black forest ham and taking a healthy bite. “So what’s the next step?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I have to think.” Heavy palms ran over her face and neck, a regretful, whimsy in her eyes. Her feet slid to the floor and she went in search of her backpack, fingers up with a sorrowful wave. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “Chloe…”

  Both stopped when a sound from the past filtered into the room. Chloe pulled her phone from a pocket on her shorts, a weak smile offered at the puzzled frown on Simon’s face.

  “The Muppet Show theme?”

  “Yeah…what of it,” Chloe stuck her tongue out. “Hi, Nyssa, what’s up?”

  Her frown deepened, she pulled a stool close and sunk onto it, the phone laid on the counter and speaker button depressed.

  “Phoebe and I had a long talk this morning after you called. We’ve canceled the bid.”

  “Nyssa…”

  “No, listen…we – all three of us – talked about leaning heavily toward environment tech and healthy programming. We can’t stop the requests for our services, but we can ignore them.”

  “But this is my fault…”

  “Chloe, listen to me; this is not a fault, it’s a choice. The store and CPN are doing great. We have a very good benefits plan and we’re profitable and at peace. Our investment portfolio is extremely healthy and we’ve long agreed that we do not function on greed.”

  “I know…and all that’s true…” Chloe closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “I only hope…”

  “We are a team and we will handle things, together. I shot the decline to participate letter off a few minutes ago to all parties involved. Now…go have a fun weekend and be careful, okay?”

  “I will see you Monday. Thank you for being logical.” Chloe tapped on the phone and slid it into her pocket. “I only hope it makes a difference,” she whispered painfully, her head shaking in doubt.

  “You don’t think it will?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Simon. Humans…I can understand machines and machine language…humans don’t operate in a way that can be predicted.” She stood up and offered a weak smile. “I need to think, Simon…I’ll give you a call.”

  Chapter Nine

  Simon spent a lot of time checking and rechecking his phone.

  Chloe sat cross-legged
staring into the sky outside her apartment, headphones blocking all outside noise. What if her theory was wrong? Inaccurate, she amended. There were hundreds and hundreds of programmers out there with imagination and skills more qualified that her. Something was just off, she thought for the hundredth time.

  Not a hint of surprise betrayed itself on the face of the man opening the door to her at six-thirty the next morning. A steaming cup of coffee in his hand as he stepped back to let her into the foyer.

  “Morning, miss.”

  “Hi, Griss. He’s still sleeping, huh?” Chloe walked to the three stairs leading to the second level and leaned on the banister. “What’s he got against mornings?”

  “I think it was the eight years in the military and working construction before and after,” Griss took a thoughtful swallow of coffee. “I believe it’s more along the lines of having paid his dues as far as early was concerned,” he confided with a low chuckle. “You know you have him mumbling to himself.”

  Chloe shook her head slowly. “I am sorry about that,” she held up her hand, thumb and forefinger a scant half inch apart. “There’s just something…off…that is not fitting into the puzzle. But I’m chasing it down,” she winked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle on him.”

  He watched the khaki shorts stride to the top and unerringly choose the bedroom door, her slim frame easing inside without making a sound. He wandered off toward the kitchen and the Sunday paper.

  Chloe didn’t hear the quiet click of the door behind her as she turned slowly in the huge room. Like the living area below, Simon had designed one entire wall facing the Sound with an arched glass and wide patio doors to admit the cool salt air. A very nice pedestal king sized bed sat on the opposite wall, a night stand on either side and a perfect view of the ocean and mountains ahead.

  She quietly opened her backpack, slid a drawer open on the night stand and dropped in the foil packets she had bought that morning on her walk around town. The drawer slid closed and she slipped her feet from the comfortable sandals, one hand out to touch the surface of the bed. It did look warm and inviting, she mused, easing the tank top off and sliding out of her shorts before climbing onto the bed. It was one of those no movement mattresses, she thoughts, carefully easing between the thick comforter and snuggling into the fluffy pillow. Maybe just a few minutes, she thought as the warmth and drowsiness enveloped her.

  Simon lay on his stomach, one arm over his head and the other dangling off to the side. He pulled his arm beneath the quilt and rolled to his side, freezing in place when his flesh touched something soft and warm. Brown hair fell on his forehead as he slowly and cautiously eased to his back, eyes angled down and landing on the creamy flesh and scattered long strands of thick ginger hair.

  He closed his eyes and recalled the previous night. He’d had a few drinks with dinner. Nothing excessive, he was sure. And he was also sure when he crawled into bed, he was alone. Heavy palms ran over his face before one of them strayed, lifting the quilt to see what there was to see. She wore a stretch tee shirt and pair of briefs cut like tiny, silky shorts.

  Chloe felt the movement behind her and lifted her head, brushing the bangs of red from her eyes and squinting at the clock.

  “Oh god, you’re contagious…I was not supposed to fall asleep,” she mumbled, dropping her head back to the pillow.

  “I think I’m on the verge of believing in Santa Clause,” Simon murmured, sinking low and dropping a gentle bite on the exposed shoulder. An unshaven chin rasped over her skin. He inhaled slowly, taking in the fragrance that surrounded Chloe. Shampoo, soap and maybe lotion, he thought vaguely, his palm beginning at her lower back and gliding over the rise of her behind. Fingers squeezed softly before going to her side, turning her carefully to face him.

  Chloe felt her mouth open, moisture gone as she pushed the hair from her face and gazed into the sensual gleam above her. A soft gasp left her lips when she felt one nipple tightening beneath his exploring palm, fingertips manipulating it teasingly. She whispered his name from very deep inside her.

  “So what did I do to deserve this?” Simon enjoyed the shape of her, the soft yet firm roundness that was warm against his palm. He eased the quilt from her, replacing his hand and following it with a gentle kiss. His body absorbed the shudder, their eyes holding one another captive.

  “I…ahh…it’s…I was going to see if I could talk you into coming out to the beach for the day,” Chloe felt the heat building in them both, her palm going to the tanned shoulder, one finger out to trace the line of an old scar. Tentative fingers followed the outline of his lower lip, his mouth down and caressing softly over hers, again and again until both were breathless.

  “Chloe…”

  “I brought you something…just in case…” Her fingers moved to the drawer, several foil packets lifted from inside to rest on the top.

  She felt an incredible thrill inside her at the flare of hunger in his eyes, a raw need she knew was mirrored in her own gaze.

  Simon slid one leg to the floor, his fingers raised when she opened her mouth quizzically. “I’ll be right back,” was the promise he made, striding into the bathroom without turning.

  Chloe stretched and listened vaguely to the grumbling from the bathroom. She giggled slightly and gazed into the sparkling fog fighting with the rising sun.

  Simon returned to the sight of an upturned behind, legs bent since she lay on her stomach, gazing out into the shroud of fog and marine layer moving to shore. His eyes lingered momentarily on the packets she’d left on the night stand before he slid onto the bed, one palm running the length of her leg and settling on the lace covered mound. She turned over slowly, red hair fanned around her face.

  Chloe felt the butterflies in her stomach the same time she felt the flare of fire at the blatant hunger as he drank in the length of her slender, curving body. Moving slowly, she reached down and pulled the light tee shirt tank from her, dropping it over the side. Her arm continued its move, fingers touching a delicate circle around the band of his sleep pants, drawing one fingernail down the heavy, rigid length of him.

  “You came to me,” Simon said the words aloud. He was prepared to exit the bathroom and find his bed empty. To chalk it up to a wildly erotic dream. She sat up before him slowly and took his palms in hers. They lay side by side on the large bed, her hands pressing heavily over his chest and circling his neck, drawing his head closer to hers.

  “Why are you surprised, Simon?” Her words whispered against his lips.

  He felt the slight shudder as she pressed against him, his hands moving down her shoulders, along the long column of her spine and onto the lace and cotton briefs. He pulled her hard against him, groaning and taking her soft mouth for a long, tantalizing kiss.

  “Chloe…”

  She lifted her foot and wrapped it over his body, opening herself a little more to feel the strong shaft, her hips setting up a pattern that brought teasing jolts of excitement. A very distant part of her mind offered a warning. Offered advice that she stop and think. But the part of her that had been awakened by this man knew it was the right time and place for her.

  Breathless, Simon continued kissing her, wondering if he would ever reach a point where it was enough, where each new foray would not excite and arouse. He rolled to his back, dragging her over top of him and providing his hands the freedom he’s wanted since realizing she wasn’t a fifteen year old wood nymph.

  Each rotation of her hips, each time she arched and dragged the apex of her thighs tautly along the length of him, a new, deeper groan broke from deep inside him. Chloe decided she heartily approved of this position, her elbows on the bed at the sides of his head and her lips hungrily taking one sensuous kiss after another. She trailed her tongue along the pulsing column
of his throat, gulping a little when the very warm, possessive hands slid inside the last piece of clothing between them.

  “Christ, Chloe…I wanted to have a long slow seduction…I wanted you to know how very important you’ve become to me…”

  Chloe dragged in a deep, ragged breath, pressing her palms on his chest and straightening astride him, her knees clenching tightly to each side of him. She saw his eyes glaze over slightly and, though she really didn’t think it possible, felt him harden even more.

  “We have tons of time for long, slow seductions, Simon. Whatever scholars and philosophers want to call it, there’s a sense of tomorrow when I’m with you. I’m not made of glass,” she whispered as he slowly eased to a sitting position, stretching behind her and coming back with a foil packet in his hand.

 

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