Fly with Me

by Angela Verdenius

  “Cake is good,” Elissa agreed. “And I’ve done other jobs apart from singing. But first we have to get this wedding done.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t look meanwhile,” Ash insisted.

  “I think she wants you to stay.” Scott popped the last of the toast into his mouth. “Gully’s Fall isn’t a bad place. Maybe you should think about it.”

  “New beginnings,” Ash reminded her. “Friends. You’ve already made friends. You just need a job and home, but you can stay here until you get a place. Right, Scott?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Cripes, you’ll be newlyweds. I won’t be staying here when you get back from your honeymoon.” Elissa rubbed the bridge of her nose. “And besides, I haven’t got a job yet.”

  Picking up the newspaper, Ash stood, crossed to her and slapped it against her stomach. “You better get busy then.”

  Elissa looked around her shoulder at Scott. “I bet you haven’t seen this side of her before.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of sides of my fiancée.” His grin was wide, his eyes sparkled. “You’d be surprised.”

  Ash blushed, laughed and turned back to Elissa. “Just think about it, okay?”

  “Sure. Why not.”

  “And later, we’re talking.” Sober once more, Ash studied her. “Really talking.”

  “About the wedding?”

  “About you.”

  “I’m boring.”

  “Later.”

  That one word suddenly reminded her of what Simon had said the previous night, which made a flood of sudden warmth hit low in her belly, not to mention her heart skip a beat.

  Determinedly pushing the hot firie from her mind, Elissa folded the newspaper. “Right. By the way, when are we doing this wedding rehearsal?”

  Scott groaned. “Oh, man.”

  Ash looked at him. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

  “I think we should elope.”

  “Your mother will kill you.”

  “What if I stuff up the words?”

  “You won’t.” Ash looked back at Elissa. “Four o’clock this afternoon we’re meeting the minister, do a quick run-through just so we know where we’re standing, when to do things.”

  Scott groaned again.

  “Ignore him,” Ash said firmly. “He’s scared he’s going to balls it up.”

  “I thought it was a simple wedding?” Elissa queried.

  “It is. So simple. He’s just panicking.”

  “Living together only would fix that,” Elissa suggested wickedly.

  Immediately Scott’s head shot up, his gaze narrowing on her before flicking to Ash. “Not in this lifetime. I’m getting a ring on that finger if it kills me. The rehearsal is this arvo, we’ll all be there. On time.”

  “Well,” observed Ash dryly, “if I’d only known what buttons to push before-”

  “Don’t push it, honey.”

  Laughing, Ash blew him a kiss.

  Elissa took that as her cue to leave, going to the bathroom to shower. Hanging her dressing gown and nightie on the hook behind the door, she’d just started adjusting the temperature with the taps when Ash knocked on the bathroom door. “Elissa!”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re leaving, be back for lunch. There’s a load of washing in the machine if you want to toss your clothes in as well. Just turn it on and I’ll hang it out later.”

  “No worries. I’ll do it and hang it out.

  “Was hoping you’d say that!”

  “Scott does know what kind of woman he’s marrying, right?”

  “Nope, it’s a surprise.” There was a squeal, a scuffle, a giggle, silence for several seconds, and then Scott’s deep tone called, “I sure as heck know what I’m getting and I’m keeping her. See you later.”

  “’Bye.” Grinning, Elissa stepped into the tub.

  The water was warm, the steam billowing into the room in the chill morning air. It promised to be a warm day, but the mornings and nights were definitely chilly. Winter was on its way.

  Washing her hair, she watched the suds go down the plug hole. Hmmm, looking for a job in Gully’s Fall was kind of appealing. She had kind of made friends, she liked the people she’d met so far, she did kind of feel at home here. Maybe it wasn’t such a silly idea. Why not? It was a small town, as far from the city as she could get, it was peaceful. Well away from her family, which was a bonus. She could just live here and be forgotten.

  Oh boy, pity party. No, not forgotten. And certainly she didn’t include Moz in that thought. Man, she really had to phone him soon.

  Massaging the conditioner into her hair, she pondered. Could she live in a place like this? She’d only been here a short time. But yeah, she liked it. Besides, getting a job didn’t mean staying here forever, right? It could be a pit stop if needed while she decided what she wanted to do.

  Geez, bit late for a gap year kind of thing. Gap year in life? Why the hell not? It wouldn’t hurt to do a little poking around, anyway.

  Finishing the shower quickly she dried off, applying deodorant before wrapping the thin dressing gown around her. Probably should think about getting a winter one if she was seriously contemplating staying in Gully’s Fall.

  If. Big if. Lots to think about.

  One of the more disturbing things to think about was Simon. He lived here, worked here, and there was something between them. Kind of. Hell if she knew, really.

  Looking into the mirror as she blow dried her hair, she bit her lip. At least she could be honest with herself. She didn’t know what the hell he was thinking or feeling. Sometimes she thought he wanted her, felt something for her, saw her as more than a woman with a generously curved figure and so many insecurities she didn’t know if she was coming or going.

  She knew what she felt, though. Attraction. Strong attraction. She’d only known the redheaded fireman for a couple of days but she’d spent enough time in his company to know how her body reacted to him. Every time she was close to him, she felt his warmth. Every time he touched her, she felt the contact like a delicious burn, felt it seep through her to touch her low, deep, making her insides swim, her- “Shit.” Time to force those increasingly carnal thoughts aside.

  Switching the hair dryer off, she gathered the thick curls up with the intentions of pulling it into a bun when she suddenly released it, letting it tumble free.

  Her mother had always talked her into putting her hair up, insisting it gave her a sophisticated air. Calum had wanted it up for the shows. The only time she’d let it free was when she was with Moz or she’d snuck away to sing at the pubs, relaxing and enjoying herself, being the person she wanted to be, dictated to by no one.

  The only other person who had ever released her hair was Simon.

  Simon.

  Even just the thought of those long fingers plucking the clip from her hair had her swallowing, the memory of his hand at her back, the way he paid attention to her, his laugh, his happiness, the twinkle in his eyes, had her smiling a little. The way he looked at her so levelly, his gaze probing, seeing further inside her, threatening to draw her secrets forth. His caring.

  And then last night…oh boy. Running her fingers through the curls, she bit her bottom lip. Oh man, he’d been someone else, yet still Simon. Someone more dominating, more stern, more teasing but in a wholly hot way. There had been a definite control in the way he’d acted, deliberateness in his movements.

  Even when he’d been teasing her, the challenge had been there in his eyes, daring her to make a scene, forcing her to swallow her angry words and sit between his legs. Quick as a flash, his eyes had danced wickedly when he’d asked her for food, the silent amusement at her annoyance making that twinkle so devastatingly sexy.

  And the way he’d looked at her when they’d passed each other in the hallway, his darkly promised “Later, you’re going to explain that look to me.” He didn’t ask, didn’t request, simply stated it, a thread of steel under his normally light tone.

  Did it make her
a very sick puppy that that thread of steel, that quiet determination in his eyes, that hint of threat had made her insides dip? Made her wonder how far he’d go to get his answer?

  Crap, Simon was proving to be a man who both unnerved and thrilled her. He made her want, made her laugh, made her thoughtful, made her want to walk on the wild side and taste that freedom, throw her inhibitions away and just feel and live. Enjoy life the way he did.

  Even as annoyed with him as she was, she still found him attractive. That proof was in the fact that her blood ran a little more warmly, a little more thickly

  Bracing her hands on the basin, she took a deep, steadying breath.

  Face it, she might find him attractive, but after the way she’d given him the evil eye the night before and then deliberately dodged him by cravenly hiding behind Ash and Scott - well, not literally, but she might as well have - Simon was probably not intending to come near her again.

  Taking another deep breath, she threw her head back, straightened and turned. What had happened, had happened. No amount of skulking in the bathroom thinking of what probably wasn’t, certainly was not going to help her. She had plans.

  Grabbing her nightie, she opened the door and strode out, only to come to a stop upon seeing the tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against the door frame of her bedroom, arms crossed over a muscular chest, long, jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles.

  Dressed in the same clothes as the previous night, Simon’s gaze slid slowly down her figure before lifting to meet her eyes. Her insides grabbed, belly dipped, heat crawling along her spine.

  His eyes were hot. Really hot.

  Elissa’s heart hammered in her chest as she clutched the nightgown tighter in her hands. She could only stare at him, watch as he pushed upright away from the wall and started coming towards her without shifting his eyes from hers.

  The man didn’t walk, he prowled. He prowled closer, advancing without hesitation or speed, reaching out as he drew nearer to fist his hand gently in the lapels of her dressing gown, long fingers sliding between the valley of her breasts, curling so his knuckles brushed her skin, and then he was drawing her to him.

  She went, trapped in his burning gaze, the blatant carnal desire he felt for her so hotly evident.

  Every thought, every doubt she’d had vanished beneath his gaze, every desire rising at his nearness, his strength, the way he bent his tall body towards her, his other hand coming to rest in the small of her back, big hand spreading out to press her to him.

  The nightgown fell from her hands as she lifted them to rest against his chest, then God help her, but she let herself go. Let the doubts vanish, the fear, the feeling of loss and aloneness as Simon kissed her.

  So hot, so decadent, so erotic.

  He didn’t kiss her. He took her. His mouth moulded to hers, firm lips seeking, pressing, tongue tracing demandingly, and she let him in, opened to him, felt his taste sweep through her in a dizzying rush.

  His hand on her back pulled her harder against him, his other hand leaving her dressing gown to twine into her hair in a firm but gentle hold, angling her head to allow him greater access to her mouth.

  Oh God, his strength, his heat, surrounded her, made her feel so delicate, so dainty, even though she was anything but. She melted into him, for once uncaring, willing to let this man lead her where she wanted to go, where he so unashamedly wanted to go.

  She’d go as far and as hard as he wanted.

  When Simon lifted his head, his eyes burned down into hers with desire so blistering she felt as though his very gaze scorched her.

  “Lis?” His voice was deeper, a touch harsher, filled with need.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t ask again, didn’t try to give either of them breathing space, just kissed her with a ferocity that both thrilled and alarmed her in a deliciously erotic way. At the same time he turned them, walked her backwards, made her cling to him.

  When he stopped and lifted his head, she gasped in air, glanced around, recognised that they were in her bedroom. Looking up at him, her breath caught at the rapacity glittering in his eyes, the firmness of his lips, the set of his jaw.

  “You’re beautiful.” His hands settled on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing her skin, making her aware that her dressing gown had slipped, the sleeves caught around her upper arms. “Lis. So beautiful.”

  His gaze dropped, followed the line of her breasts as he stepped back, his hands sliding down her arms to stop at the silken sash holding the dressing gown closed at her waist. Without hesitation, he slid the knot free.

  Suddenly fearful, so self-conscious in the daylight, she grabbed his hand, trapping it against the gown, preventing it from opening.

  Those thick lashes lifted, his pupils dilated with desire as he looked at her.

  Elissa’s breath caught. She wasn’t a slim girl, a woman with a figure to make a man pant. She knew what she was, her hour-glass figure voluptuous, thighs rounded, belly soft. If he saw her, saw all of her… She swallowed.

  Simon just continued to look at her, not forcing her, not saying anything. But his eyes softened, a small smile playing around his lips, then he did the unexpected, bending down to press his lips to her brow.

  Closing her eyes, she drew in his scent, felt his warmth.

  This is Simon.

  His lips trailed down, a soft kiss to each of her eyelids, a kiss to the tip of her nose before whispering across her cheek to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, another to the centre, a third to the other corner of her mouth.

  She felt like she could drown in his kisses, those both hot and hard, and those sweet and gentle. Just give up to them, float away, be the woman she wanted to be.

  The coolness of the morning replaced the warmth of the dressing gown, the sudden shift and slide of the silk slipping down her arms revealing her nakedness, and she closed her eyes, bit her lip, inhaled unsteadily. Steeled herself.

  “Lis.” Her name was a warm puff of his breath on her lips.

  Opening her eyes, she found him so close to her, close enough for her to see her reflection in his hazel irises.

  Did he feel her tremble as well?

  Yes. His hands swept soothingly up and down her arms in calming caresses.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said softly, deeply, “don’t.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be shy. Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be anything but yourself.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re perfect.”

  His smile was a touch sad, so fleeting it was gone before she registered it completely. “No, I’m not perfect. None of us are. But what we are to each other is as perfect as it can be.”

  “Simon…”

  “Fly with me, Lis,” he whispered huskily. “Fly free with me. Let yourself go. I won’t let you fall.”

  Of all the things he could say it was this that had her nodding, had her sucking in a sudden breath and flick her hands, releasing the gown that last bit so that it fell around her feet.

  Now she was naked in front of him. Try as she might, she still couldn’t help the slight cringe inward when his hands trailed up her arms. Her rounded arms. Not toned, not cut with feminine muscle, just soft and round.

  Simon didn’t drop his gaze, just looked into her eyes, trapping her in the molten heat of his desire.

  That heat grew as his hands cupped her shoulders then slowly slid down, spreading out over her upper chest, tracing her collarbones before sliding further down, further still, finger tips light, a little path of fire flickering wherever he touched.

  Those dexterous fingers trailed around the sides of her breasts, traced the rounded contours, slid to her nipples, and then stopped. Oh God, it felt like the tips of her nipples were on fire, the little buds straining demandingly to the lightest touch of his fingers.

  Still he didn’t release her eyes, the fire in his building, the carnal desire he felt for her banked with a tenderness that ju
st wrung her heart.

  Doing the unexpected yet again, he dropped his forehead to hers, bound them so closely together with the spell of his eyes, holding her in a soft, floating heat as his palms pressed flat against her breasts, fingers spreading around the generous globes, just holding her.

  Her heart felt like it was going to hammer clear out of her chest, her breath stuttering from the sensations sparking out from his hands to fill her.

  He moved again, slid his cheek against hers, turned so that his mouth was against her ear, lips lightly tracing the line of her throat to her shoulder, making her shiver, making her want to tuck her shoulders up yet arch for him all at once.

  His hands shifted, moved down in perfect symmetry, over her belly, lower, fingers grazing her mound. In a gentle yet definite demand, his hand nudged between her thighs and blindly she obeyed, the sensations he was building inside her making her give herself over to him.

  He felt her surrender, knew it instantly, taking her mouth in a kiss that was suddenly, unexpectedly demanding, sweeping away her last reservations at the same time his hand slid fully between her thighs, long fingers sliding unerringly between the sheltering lips of her labia, finding the slickness, pressing up against her perineum, making her arch up into him, whimpering as sensation after sensation crashed through her.

  He didn’t hesitate, tipping her back on the bed, following her down before she could think, his lips finding her nipples, latching on and sucking, drawing her nerves into deliciously taut strings of desire.

  “Simon,” she moaned. “Oh God, Simon, please.”

  Big hands caught her hips, fingers curling firmly into her flesh, holding her still as he shifted to her other breast, caught the little nipple straining for attention, laved it hard, sucked it firmly, plucked the strings stretched tight low in her belly.

  Twisting her hands in the sheets, she held on, head arching back as he sucked, that magical mouth pulling at her breast, sucking her with constrained power.

  He moved lower, tongue licking down the middle of her, dipping into her belly button in a wicked, wet lap.

  Suddenly she realised where he was going, what he was doing, and her heart somersaulted. Almost jerking upright, she began, “Simon, no. Simon, I can’t-”