by Inara Scott
How much I want this.
How scared I am that you’ll change your mind.
“You stopped writing to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It was too hard. I missed you too much. To be honest, I went a little crazy after my family moved.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, remembering her teenage self checking the mailbox for a letter that never came. Remembering how she’d sobbed when she’d realized it never would. He’d been her best friend for three years. They’d walked to school together, taken the subway together, held hands in the movies. And then he was gone, and she was alone, trying to figure out what to do with her life when the most important person she’d ever known had left.
He sighed. “I couldn’t handle your letters. Thinking about you. Never seeing you again. I started going to more parties. Drinking a lot.”
She blinked. “Really?”
He shot her a wry smile. “Really.”
She couldn’t imagine Simon partying. They’d gone to a few parties in high school, but he’d never particularly liked the crowds or the noise. They usually ended up hanging out in her basement, watching Monty Python movies and eating pizza.
And making out.
Come to think of it, maybe he’d been trying to get her alone all that time. She’d never really considered that before.
She punched him lightly on the arm. “You should have called me.”
He chuckled. “A guy can only allow himself to be so pathetic. Talking to you would have sent me right over the edge. Besides, teenage boys aren’t well known for their conversational skills. I probably would’ve grunted into the phone a few times and then dissolved into uncomfortable silence.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’m more than capable of holding up both ends of a conversation, you know. It’s one of my greatest skills.”
“I seem to remember that,” he said. “We could walk all the way home from school without you taking a breath.”
“Hey, let’s not overdo it.” She sniffed. “I didn’t talk that much.”
“Of course not,” he replied, straight-faced. The elevator arrived, and they waited for a well-dressed couple to leave before they entered.
“But things got better for you?” she said, after the doors closed behind them. She found herself inching away from Simon’s absurdly sexy form in an attempt to remain lighthearted and calm.
“It took a while, but I finally realized that I was punishing myself by doing all that partying, when the one I wanted to get back at was my dad. And given what a penny-pincher he was, I figured the best way to punish him would be to get into the most expensive college I could and watch him pay for it.”
A snort of laughter escaped her. “Now that sounds like the Simon I remember. Too clever to go the juvenile delinquent route. So what college did you go to?”
The elevator raced up the thirty floors toward her room. Jenna’s heart rate approached the pace of a hummingbird as they approached her floor. She tried not to think about what would happen when they stopped.
“Stanford. Tuition was crazy expensive, but my father couldn’t resist having the chance to brag to the other guys in the office that he had a son there. Even if the price tag was killing him.”
He gave her a wry smile, and her heart skipped at the way his mouth moved. Why did the elevator seem to get smaller, the higher they rose?
“What did you do after that?” She tried not to breathe too deeply of the spicy, masculine air that surrounded him. The smell was making her head spin.
“Got my MBA. Tried working in an office, but I was too restless to stay in one place and never really liked taking orders from anyone. I got together with a couple of friends from business school and we pooled our resources to start our own firm. It’s been pretty successful.”
She laughed. “Pretty successful? I suppose that’s one way to put it. The New Masters of the Universe would be another way.” When she’d gone back to her hotel room she’d Googled Simon’s company. It had been written about dozens of times over the past year, including one article in the Economist that said Simon and his partners were financial geniuses who were poised to take over Wall Street.
He rolled his eyes. “Wild exaggerations. What about you? Where did you go to college?”
Jenna looked away, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “I, um, went to Brooklyn College.”
He furrowed his brow. “I thought you had your heart set on getting away from home?”
“Changed my mind,” she said, keeping her voice light. “Decided to stay put.”
“Oh.” He half turned, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. She didn’t acknowledge his interest. She couldn’t imagine telling him the truth, that she’d gotten pregnant her senior year of high school. That she’d lost the baby but stayed married because it seemed like the right thing to do. That three years ago she’d handed her husband back his ring because she was selfish enough to believe that there was more out there for her than a marriage of friendship and convenience.
She’d stayed friends with her ex, Ross. He was a great dad, and had even agreed to move to Denver when she got her new job so their kids would have both parents nearby. He was taking care of them now, the only reason she could leave at a moment’s notice for an extended trip overseas. Of course, Ross being nice had only made her desire to get a divorce that much worse. If he’d been an asshole, everything would have been easier.
The elevator reached her floor, and she led Simon down the hall to her room. Because she was on an extended stay, the company had put her up in a studio, with a kitchen area and wet bar she used to hold the piles of papers she brought back every night from her temporary office. Luckily, she had so few belongings the room stayed tidy, and the bed was perfectly made.
Is this really happening?
She was definitely not looking at the bed.
Simon set the glasses down on the counter and poured the wine. “So, no husband for you? No jealous fiancé I should know about?”
She paused. This was the moment she should have told him about Ross. And her kids. But she couldn’t make herself say the words. After all, they were in a hotel room. In China. In a week or two, she’d be back to her old life. She’d have to juggle her job, the kids, babysitters, and dentist appointments. Tonight she could be the carefree woman she’d never really had the chance to be. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted. She could be the kind of person she hadn’t been since her senior year of high school.
She grabbed the glass of wine he handed her. Closing her eyes, she savored the first mouthful, the delicate flavor tickling her tongue. She swallowed, paused, then took another drink. When she opened her eyes, Simon was studying her intently.
“No,” she finally said. “And this wine is fantastic.”
“It needs to breathe.”
“I can’t tell.” She dared herself to smile and not think about tomorrow. “I’ve never really gotten past grocery store wines, to be honest.”
Simon took off his suit coat, and her heart skipped. “I like a wine I can savor,” he said. “Slow and easy.”
A sensual tickle stirred in her stomach. She took another drink. His eyes were hooded as he watched her. She hadn’t eaten all day and the alcohol seemed to run straight to her brain. What deep, penetrating questions should she ask him? Were there things people said before they jumped into bed with someone they barely knew?
“What’s your place in L.A. like?”
Not exactly sparkling conversation, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.
“There’s a bed, and I think some other furniture. That’s about it. It’s got a great view, I just can’t remember exactly what of.”
“I guess you never got that dog?”
He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “What dog?”
She laughed. “You always talked about getting a husky.”
He paused for a moment, and then his face broke in a wide smile. “I haven’t thought of that in years. I was totally o
bsessed with those dogs.”
“They are beautiful.” She laughed, remembering how Simon had tried to convince his father to let him get one. “And totally unsuited to life in a city. Your dad kept telling you how crazy you were.”
Simon shook his head with a rueful smile. “And I kept telling him how I’d take it running every day.”
“Even though you didn’t run.”
“Throw that in my face, why don’t you.” He took a healthy drink of wine. “It was a little silly, I suppose.”
“A little?” Without thinking, she leaned forward to touch his arm, like she might have done years ago. But this time, the touch sent her snapping back with awareness, and she had to lift her wine glass to cover her discomfort. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s fine. My folks are living in Omaha now. Dad’s VP of sales, and Mom’s still making him dinner and reheating it when he comes home late.”
Jenna found herself staring at his lips.
Look in his eyes. And for the love of God, pay attention to what he’s saying!
“Did you ever take up running?”
“Not enough to justify having a sled dog,” he said, grinning. “Now, what about you? Still wish on your birthday candles every year that you’ll get a pony?”
“Hey, you can’t say birthday wishes out loud. Now it will never come true!”
He ducked his head in shame. “So sorry.”
She sighed dramatically. “It’s okay. I recently moved to a suburb of Denver. A pony probably isn’t in the cards for me.”
“If you moved to Denver, why are you in China?”
She shrugged. “I suppose I’m the lowest on the totem pole. When the client needed someone to fix a software problem, they sent me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think it was that. They must trust you to jump into a project like this. I did some work with Mark Absalon a few years back, and he doesn’t suffer fools lightly.”
Mark was the CEO of her company. “Do you know everyone?” she asked.
“Not quite everyone,” he said with a shrug. “But I do know Mark. And Chao. He thinks highly of you. I can tell.”
“We’ve worked well together.”
She was running out of things to say, and something about the way Simon was looking at her made her insides quiver. She threw back the rest of her glass and took a step toward him. “You know what?”
“What?”
He stayed still, and she got the feeling he was forcing her to make the first move.
She took a deep breath. “I always thought you would be my first.”
He sucked in a quick breath, and his eyes glowed with an amber light. “Shit, Jen. You can’t even imagine how much I wanted that.”
Nervous shivers danced along her spine.
This is Simon, she reminded herself. The boy you kissed on your comforter with the pink flowers. He held your hand when you checked the list to see if you made the cheerleading team. You studied for chemistry tests with him.
Silence stretched between them.
Her mouth went dry. She felt the weight of his gaze like a hand on her body. Transfixed, she felt behind her for the tiny hook at the top of the zipper that ran along the back of her dress. She’d owned the dress for three years and she’d never really liked it, but it had felt like the perfect mix of conservative and professional to bring with her to China. Now, she was ready to have it off. On the other hand, she definitely wasn’t ready for him to see her less-than-perfect body naked.
“Jenna, we don’t have to rush.”
“We can catch up later.” She took a deep breath. “We’ve been waiting long enough.”
He gave a low growl of approval. “I couldn’t agree more.”
She backed toward the bed, silently contemplating how quickly she could divest herself of the sheath and dive under the covers. Or should she turn off the lights first? There was one switch by the entrance to the room, which Simon had flipped on his way in. She tried to sound confident. Seductive. “Why don’t you turn off the lights?”
He started toward her, unbuttoning his shirt as he moved, revealing a tan torso and taut abdomen. God, he’s perfect. Long lines of muscles, ridges and planes, and those eyes…hell, he could eat her with those eyes alone and she’d die happy.
“Absolutely not. I’ve been waiting for my chance at your body since I was fourteen. You really think I’m going to turn out the lights now?”
Her mouth went dry. Damn it, in her wildest fantasies she hadn’t expected the night to go this way. And even if she had, she owned a total of zero sets of sexy underthings. Jesus, she was wearing the sort of all-purpose white bra that girls with a D-cup need to actually hold things in place. What would he think of her?
He’s going to realize you aren’t fifteen anymore, that’s for sure…
She backed her way to the bed, pulling back the covers as she started to unzip her dress. She tried to execute her plan. She really did. But then the zipper got stuck a few inches down, and she had to twist her arms in an uncomfortable configuration to reach the zipper. During that time, he managed to rid himself of his clothes and move naked behind her. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and her entire body quivered at the raw masculinity and sinewy strength of him.
“Can I help?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just moved her hands away and unzipped the dress. The silky material fell to her feet in a swoosh. His fingers trailed along her spine. His mouth caressed her in place of his fingers and she forgot her doubts and embarrassment as the back of the offending bra was unhooked, and then his hands were at her shoulders, sliding underneath the straps and removing the garment from her body. She shivered, goose bumps running along her arms, stomach, back. He caught her shoulders, spun her around slowly.
She turned her face away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“Fucking hell, you’re incredible.” His voice was thick and hoarse.
She pulled away, still not looking into his face, and jumped into bed. She covered herself with a sheet and then finally met his gaze. He was watching her with a hint of confusion, his head cocked at a curious angle.
“I’m cold,” she said. “Why don’t you come under the covers and warm me up?” Her attempt to sound sultry was belied by the chattering of her teeth. She was starting to shiver, but it was from nerves, not the chilly air of the room.
Simon continued to stare at her. “I get the feeling this isn’t something you do regularly.”
She busied herself under the covers with the most ungraceful underwear removal process any human being had ever accomplished. “You could say that.”
He pulled back the sheets and lowered himself to the bed, lying down next to her, where he pressed the length of his warm body against her shivering form. One large hand touched the side of her face. “Jenna, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can drink some wine. Talk. Get to know each other again.”
Oh hell no. She was naked, in bed with a gorgeous guy who had once been her world, and there was a very large…erection pressed against her leg. She was not backing out now. She tipped her face toward him. “Will you kiss me again?”
He answered by cupping the back of her head and drawing her against him, claiming her lips with a rough, unfamiliar intensity. His fingers tensed, and she was overwhelmed by the sense that he was holding back, restraining himself. The moment made her giddy, as he licked and teased her mouth, nibbled on her lower lip, and then slid a line of fire down her throat to the base of her neck.
More kisses. Long and languorous, moving from her mouth to her neck, teasing her as they drew closer and closer to her breasts. Any remaining tension oozed from her body, along with her inhibitions, fears, and doubts.
Hesitantly at first, she allowed her fingers to trail through his hair, to brush across his back, and then move lower, but before she could reach farther he caught her wrist. He flipped her onto her back even as he caught her other hand and moved both above her head.
She struggled, but halfheartedly. He held her still, his golden eyes hungry. “What are you doing?” she said, breathing hard.
“I’m looking at you.” As soon as he leaned back, exposing her naked body to his gaze, she turned away and closed her eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly.
She shook her head and tried to free her hands. “I’m not.”
“The Jenna I remember couldn’t wait to put on her tiny cheerleader outfit and show off her body.”
“I’m a lot older than that cheerleader,” she said.
“Thank God.” He drew his hand down her side, trailing over her ribs, skimming the side of her breast. Her nipples peaked. “You’re even more beautiful now. Your breasts… Hell…” He traced an exaggerated hourglass path from her breast to her hip. “I could spend hours looking at you.”
He traced around the outside of one breast, then lightly brushed the back of his hand across her nipple. She arched instinctively, and a tiny sigh of pleasure escaped her.
“Tell me what you like,” he whispered, leaning forward to blow a warm breath on the hard, wanting peak. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t really know,” she said. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
He paused and looked up at her, expression solemn. “You have been sorely lacking in your education since I left.”
She gave a soft chuckle. “I’m just not used to paying a lot of attention to this sort of thing.”
It wasn’t her ex-husband’s fault. He’d tried all sorts of techniques to spice up their sex life, but after getting pregnant so young, and feeling so guilty about the way it had changed the course of her life—and his—it had been all but impossible to be carefree in the act. Not to mention how difficult it was to relax and enjoy yourself when you were a young parent, too proud to ask for help from your family, let alone your husband’s. Always exhausted. Never feeling like you deserved pleasure. Wondering why you weren’t more in love with the man whose ring you wore.
She pushed against his hands and tried to sit up. “Maybe you can tell me what you like instead.”
“No way. Not tonight.” He pushed her back down. “Now, can I trust you to lie still, or am I going to have to tie you up?”
