by Alexia Adams
“Sex in the shower?” Her eyes were wide as she contemplated the possibility, a pink blush spreading both up and down her neck as she envisioned the prospect.
“I told you I had much to teach you,” Simon reminded her.
Shower sex; the night was looking better.
Helen tiptoed behind him into the bathroom and closed the door with barely a sound. He schooled himself to be patient. Because as much as he wanted to ravage her repeatedly until neither of them could stand, she was still new to this.
He flicked on the water, then began to undress. Helen still stood by the door, her gaze fixed on his left shoulder.
“Second thoughts?” he asked.
“No. I want this. I want you.” She shook her head, took the straps of her negligee, and let them fall down her arms until the fabric formed a puddle at her feet. She was exquisite.
Simon shed his clothes in record time and held out his hand. The entered the shower together. The water sluiced over her body, cascading down her breasts, bouncing in different directions as it reached her already-hard nipples. Okay, maybe this was the image he’d remember on his deathbed.
Lifting her arms up, she put them around his neck, bringing her body into full contact with his. Pure unadulterated lust consumed him. Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea. Taking it slow with her wet and naked against him was going to require more strength than he had at the moment.
“Show me hard and fast,” she whispered against his lips. “Don’t hold back.”
Hell yes! “Turn around.”
He stood behind her and lathered her body with the liquid soap. The scent of coconuts mingled with the peach fragrance from her hair. Caressing her breasts with one hand, he slid the other between her thighs and explored her soft folds. He kissed her neck, under her ear, and down her shoulder, licking the water from her skin like a man dying of thirst. Her breathing was heavy and her soft gasps of pleasure were driving him wild. As she writhed against him, her ass rubbed against his upper thighs in a modified lap dance. If it weren’t for the water, they’d ignite. As it was he was in danger of spontaneous combustion.
He took a half step back and she reached around and took his throbbing erection in her hands, sliding up and down, varying the pressure until his breathing matched hers.
“Now, take me now,” she said.
After sheathing himself in a condom he’d hidden earlier, he bent her over and thrust into her from behind. They moaned simultaneously as he entered her. Nothing had ever come close to the fulfillment of being inside her. How was he ever going to let go?
…
Helen rolled over and encountered more man. Good grief, Simon was a bed hog. She didn’t think their bodies had been out of contact all night. Skin on skin, so warm she’d dispensed with the blankets and slept with only the sheet. Never having slept naked before, she’d been surprised at the ease with which she’d adjusted. Not having to wake up and untangle a thick cotton nightgown was a definite bonus. Full body contact with the gorgeous Simon Lamont another one. She’d slept so deeply she considered trying it at home. Although the good sleep probably had more to do with two rounds of lovemaking in Simon’s mother’s bathroom.
Showering with a man, soaping and running her hands all over his body, was an experience she’d never forget. The sensuality of the warm water flowing over her skin as his hands and lips brought her to ecstasy was forever imprinted on her mind. And the tropical smell of coconuts and shea butter from the shower soap was going to make drinking piña coladas a flashback trigger in the future.
Then when she’d thought they were all done, Simon had driven her wild with the drying process until they’d had sex on the padded bench that was next to the shower. But best of all, not one panic attack had marred the night.
There it was again, the creak that had woken her. She shook Simon, trying to peer over his bulk to read the clock on the bedside table. Shit, it’s ten o’clock.
“Simon, wake up, it’s late morning already.” His green eyes fluttered open and she was stunned at the intensity of his gaze. She figured waking up next to a naked woman would be old hat for him. The sheer joy and delight on his face made her own crease into a welcoming smile. Until she heard slow footsteps approach her room. “Your mother’s coming. Hide,” she whispered.
“I’m a grown man. I do not hide from my mother,” Simon whispered back, a lazy smile on his lips.
Helen resisted the urge to kiss the smile off his face. Instead, she pushed against his massive chest, mouthing the words “under the bed” as she did so. As his naked body slid off the mattress, she grabbed for the blanket, which had fallen off, and pulled it back onto the bed, trying to straighten it so it didn’t look as though she’d had wild sex in the guest room. She could hear muffled laughter from under her and managed a hurried “shush” before the knock sounded on her door. Catching sight of the two empty whisky glasses on the bedside table, she quickly hid them under the covers, the glass cold against her overheated skin.
“Good morning, Helen. It’s getting quite late. I’ve brought you a cup of tea,” Adele said through the door.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lamont,” Helen called back. She managed to pull the blanket up to her chin as Adele, considering her reply as an invitation, entered the room.
Simon’s mother scanned the room as she placed the delicate china cup, complete with saucer, on the bedside table. Helen still had her arms under the covers, not wanting to reveal the fact that she was naked. She was pretty sure the reserved Mrs. Lamont would not approve of the joys of sleeping in the buff next to a hot man.
Aside from the rumpled nature of the bed, the rest of the room seemed to pass inspection.
“Have you seen Simon this morning? His bed is already made and he’s nowhere to be found.”
Helen didn’t need a mirror to know every single skin cell of hers turned pink at the question.
“Maybe he’s gone for a run. He said he usually gets up early,” Helen replied. The bed underneath her shook as Simon rattled the mattress. Fortunately, his mother didn’t seem to notice as she straightened a couple of flower stems in the vase on the dresser.
“Yes, perhaps, although I’ve been up since seven and haven’t seen him. Maybe he slipped out of the house when I was watering the garden. I’m sure he’ll return shortly. If you wouldn’t mind getting up soon, I’d like to get breakfast over before I make a start on lunch preparations.”
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Lamont. Sorry, it’s the time difference, it’s only two in the morning in San Francisco.”
“I understand. However, as you’re here such a short time, it would be a dreadful shame to waste it in bed.”
Now there was a magnitude seven earthquake going on under the bed.
“I’ll be down in ten minutes,” Helen promised, hoping that would get the older woman to leave.
“Very well. There’s a bit of a chill in the air so you may want to dress appropriately.”
“Will do,” Helen answered as Adele closed the door behind her.
Before she had time to release the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Simon kissed her lips.
“I can’t believe you pushed me under the bed. You so owe me,” he said into her ear, before trailing kisses down her neck to where she still had the blanket clutched.
“I’ll try to think of ways to make it up to you,” she murmured, already lost to his touch.
“Let me give you some ideas.” His lips returned to her ear and he proceeded to whisper all manner of scandalous suggestions, some of which she didn’t even think were physically possible.
…
For all their subterfuge, Simon figured his mother wasn’t deceived one bit about what they’d done or where he’d spent the night. She never actually said anything, but the just-loved glow Helen exuded and the stupid grin that was on his face all day shouted out their actions loud and clear.
“I’m going to wander into the village,” Helen said after lunch, as he was
about to suggest an afternoon nap.
“I’ll come with you.” Simon rose from his chair only to have Helen gesture him back down.
“No, I think you and your mother need some time alone. I’ll be back in a few hours. Are you sure I can’t help you with those?” Helen added as Adele cleared away the lunch plates.
“Thank you, Helen, however there’s no need. I have a dishwasher. Dinner will be served at six. Please don’t be late. I am planning soufflés for starters and they don’t keep well.”
Helen gave Adele a tight smile, before blowing a kiss to him when his mother turned away. While the dishes were being cleared, he got out his phone and checked his calendar to see when he could next fly out to San Francisco.
“I know it’s none of my business, Simon, but I’m not entirely sure she’s the girl for you,” his mother said when the front door clicked shut, confirming Helen’s departure.
“Why do you say that?” He didn’t really care what his mother thought, yet he was curious as to her reasoning.
“She is far too intelligent, and I don’t think she has any domestic skills. She’ll never be content to keep house and raise your children.”
“I don’t want a woman to keep house and raise the children. I want a partner, someone I can talk things through, exchange ideas with, and have some fun. Helen meets and exceeds every one of those criteria.” He tried to match his mother’s dispassionate tone, but unaccustomed warmth spread through him at the idea of spending a lifetime with Helen. He’d never thought he’d want to settle down anytime in the near future; now he couldn’t imagine not waking up next to her each day.
He grabbed his phone off the table and sent an email to Sylvia. Completely clear my schedule for ten days, sometime in the next four weeks. I’m taking a holiday. That would keep her busy for a few days.
“Now, Mother, about your email regarding the house…”
“Yes, well, if you’re thinking of a permanent relationship with her… I’m not sure she’s the right woman to look after my house. So if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll keep it.” No emotion, just a considered response.
“I didn’t want it in the first place,” Simon said. He’d never had any sentimental feelings for his childhood home, although now he was particularly fond of the bathroom. Even brushing his teeth this morning, he’d had a hard-on remembering the previous night.
“That’s fine, then. And you are welcome to visit whenever you wish,” she added with a conciliatory tone.
“With Helen?”
“If you must.”
“About father…”
“He is not welcome.” Her terse reply was the first sign of emotion he’d seen from her.
“Did you know he had a mistress all this time?”
“I assumed he must have found some way to satisfy his baser needs when he stopped pestering me. I was so glad you were a boy, Simon, and I didn’t have to endure all that touching again to produce the requisite son expected of a family of our social standing.” Simon nearly spewed his tea across the table. Endure. For the first time, he experienced a twinge of empathy for his father.
“When you called me last week, you seemed pretty upset.” He’d lived with his mother’s incredible composure all his life. He’d been knocked for six when she’d cried on the phone.
“Yes, well, I wasn’t quite sure how to break the news to you that your father left me for some whore. And I wanted you on my side in case this whole thing got ugly. So I pretended to be upset. I apologize, it was very low-class of me.”
“Mum, there is no shame in being upset that your husband has left. I’m sure the queen’s own children have cried over the dissolution of their marriages. It’s not good to keep it all bottled up inside. Maybe if you got some counseling, talked to someone…”
“Dear, airing your father’s dirty laundry will not make it cleaner. I’m fine.”
“Are you going to divorce him?”
“I don’t see the need. I have no intention of remarrying.”
“What are you going to do with your life?”
“Why, the same thing I’ve done for the past thirty-five years. I’ve done no wrong. I don’t see any need to change, although now that I no longer have to cater to your father, I can volunteer with the National Trust. I’ve always dreamed of being in a stately home. Even if I’m acting as a guide, I can at least pretend I’m showing guests around my house.”
“As long as you’re happy…”
“I am, dear. Now I have to pop to the shops to pick up a few things. Will you be all right here on your own?”
He wanted to remind her that he was thirty-three, not thirteen. “I thought perhaps we could go out for dinner, then you wouldn’t have to cook.”
“Actually, that would be nice. I’m not sure Helen would really appreciate my soufflés. There’s a new restaurant opened in the village that has had good reviews. They say the tripe is excellent.”
…
Simon leaned back in his father’s leather home office chair. It protested beneath him, unused to the relaxed action. His mother was faffing about in the kitchen, washing up the sherry glasses from their nightcap. Helen had already gone up to bed.
Dinner had been pleasant enough. His mother had curbed her tongue and chosen noncontroversial topics to discuss. Helen had done her best to join in the discussion, although she readily acknowledged she had limited knowledge of gardening or household maintenance. Simon had spent the meal thinking about ways to make love to Helen without messing up the bed.
“I’m off to sleep now, dear. Don’t stay up too late. You look rather tired. Will you both be here for dinner tomorrow night?”
“No, our flight departs at eight, so we’ll need to leave by late afternoon.”
“That’s fine. Good night.”
He tried to concentrate on the email from the lawyer advising him of some issue with Helen’s employment contract. In typical lawyer fashion, he couldn’t just get to the point, but waffled on using words with way more syllables than sense. Unfortunately, for his concentration anyway, every time he read Helen’s name, all he could see was the soap bubbles sliding down her breasts, then getting caught in the curls farther down her body. Curls that had tickled his nose as he’d tasted her while drying her after their shower. He shifted in his seat.
He’d read the message later. He was about to shut down the computer when an email from Liam Manning appeared in his inbox. Quickly scanning the message, he couldn’t help the whoop of triumph from exiting his lips. Liam had solved the problem with the software. Simon could sell the tech to the military and sit back and let the money roll in. He could probably afford to ease off the acquisitions a little then. Maybe he could help Helen build a new engineering company. They could be partners. Then he wouldn’t have the ethical dilemma of sleeping with an employee. Maybe they’d become more than partners.
He looked up at a sound at the door, expecting his mother to chastise him for yelling in the house. Helen stood there, dressed in a pink wrap. She held the lapels closed tightly over her chest, emphasizing her nipples, which strained against the silky material.
“It’s Saturday night. Only lonely people work on a Saturday night. Are you lonely?”
“Very.” His mouth went dry as she glided across the room. She trailed her index finger along the edge of the desk. No point checking for dust; it wouldn’t dare settle on his mother’s furniture.
“Am I interrupting anything important?” She braced both hands on the blotter and leaned forward. Her hair fell around her face and down the gap between the lapels, for a moment obscuring her breasts. He sucked in a deep breath while he still remembered how to breathe.
“Just an email from Liam. He’s fixed a problem I had and now I can sell the product to the military and make a potful of money.”
Helen stood upright, a stillness overtaking her body. “What does the product do?”
“It distorts a GPS signal. A convoy can deploy it and then send false data back a
bout its location so missiles can’t target it.”
“Do you have many military contracts?” Her voice was very quiet.
“A couple minor ones, but this will be huge. Once I ink the deal, I think it may be enough.” He recalled their conversation from Coney Island where she’d asked him how much money he needed before he focused on a personal life. A life like the one in front of him. “I’m done with business, at least for tonight. Is there something I can help you with?”
She paused for a fraction of a second before sweeping her tongue over her lips. “I was hoping for another lesson.”
He shut the computer down, not bothering to log out. When he pushed the chair away from the desk, intending to get up, she pushed him back down into it, then straddled him. The lapels of her wrap fell apart, revealing her to be completely naked underneath.
“Helen—” His strangled voice was louder than he intended.
“Shush, your mother will hear,” she whispered against his lips before taking them in a searing kiss.
She undid his buttons as she kissed him, running her hands over his chest before pulling his shirt free of his trousers. Next she worked on his belt and then his zipper. He almost bucked her off when she ran her finger down the length of his rigid shaft.
“I don’t think you need any more lessons. The student has become the master,” he managed to get out between labored breaths.
“What can I say? You’re an excellent teacher.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he said when she lifted her hips so he could remove his clothes.
She reached into the pocket of her wrap, which was now pooled about her waist, and pulled out a foil package. “I came prepared.”
Sex in the home office. He was collecting more and more fond memories of this house.
Chapter Thirteen
They stood in line to check in for their flights. Simon had his arms around Helen, her back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. He inhaled deeply of her peachy fragrance and held her a bit tighter. Judging by the increasing pressure in his chest, by the time he had to say good-bye to her, he’d barely be able to breathe.
