by Anne Conley
Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room where Simon was waiting. He turned and froze, his eyes raking her body from toe to hair before a slow grin stole across his face. Warm under his scrutiny, she returned the smile.
“We are going to the same dive we went to last week, right?” Simon looked incredulous as his gaze heated her.
“Yes, why?” She was proud of the way he was losing his cool. He looked at her with a heat he seemed to reserve for dance lessons, and she liked it. She may be just a job, but when he looked at her like that, she felt like she was more. And it felt good.
“Because you look like you’re ready for a date at Aquarelle, that’s all.” He slipped his hand to the small of her back and led her out the door.
Dressed to kill, Simon wore dark-gray dress slacks and a black pinstriped dress shirt, sans tie, the top two buttons unbuttoned just enough to tease with a view of his strong neck and pronounced Adam’s apple.
The ride there was made in awkward silence, where Simon clenched the steering wheel in a death grip and Lacie regretted her wardrobe choice. She’d made herself attractive, and now he wasn’t going to speak to her. She sighed to herself.
“Do you think you could sit somewhere else and be broody tonight? I sort of wanted to let off a little steam.”
She watched his reaction, afraid she was being too blunt. To her relief, he chuckled. “I think I can still do what I need to from the bar, as long as you’re close.”
“Thanks. Your moods are a little …” She searched for a word that wouldn’t be too rude but had a hard time.
“It’s okay. You’re right. I’m being an ass.” He grinned at her, and she felt better as they pulled into a parking spot not too far away from the bar.
When they walked in and found the table with Emily and Aubree, Lacie was surprised to see Trent there as well. Simon waited for a nod from her before he went over to the bar, about ten feet away, and perched on a stool to watch her.
“Trent! I didn’t think you’d be here.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re a creature of habit, Lace.”
As if nothing happened. She looked over at her girlfriends, and they shrugged. “But I broke up with your voicemail. Didn’t you get that?” she whispered to him over the din of the bar.
He clutched her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth, but she stiffened, trying to pull it away. “I did, that’s why I came tonight. I wanted to apologize. I’ve been a dick, Lace. I’m sorry.”
Slightly mollified, she tried to smile at him, but Simon was glaring over Trent’s shoulder and it was sort of funny, so she giggled a little instead. She tried to muffle it with a cough, but it was lame. “Trent, really, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to. We’re just not right for each other.”
“But you need me.” Before he could continue, a tall, statuesque woman came and grabbed his arm.
“Trent, I really need to speak with you.” He didn’t move. “Now.”
He rolled his eyes and grudgingly said, “I’ll be right back. I’m not finished.”
Lacie sank into a chair with a laugh. “Oh my God. It’s never been so hard to break up with someone. Ever.”
Emily, Miss Nosy Rosy, couldn’t stop herself. “Don’t you want to know what she’s telling him? Maybe she’s having his love child!”
Aubree rolled her eyes. “Love children haven’t happened since 1982, Em.” Turning her eyes to Lacie, she ventured, “But I’m curious too. Do you know her?”
“No, I don’t. She’s probably someone he works with.”
“Or fucking,” offered Emily.
“Or that. Would y’all get me a drink? I’ll be right back.”
Lacie was curious. Maybe if she and the other woman teamed up, they could get Trent to go off with the other woman and leave her alone to enjoy girls’ night.
“You said you would tell her, and you’re over there apologizing? What the hell for?”
“Diane, she’s going through a hard time. I can’t just leave her.”
“You’re not leaving her. She broke up with you. Why are you even here?” Diane hissed at him, and Trent looked sheepish.
“Yeah, Trent, why are you even here?” Lacie gathered there was something between these two, and she didn’t really care, but she was feeling nosy. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor, so if that’s all you’re sort of sticking around for, you can go.”
She turned her back on Trent to find Simon.
“Who is this guy to you?” Trent was behind her, his voice rising, but Simon stepped in front of him.
“I’m the one who’s been here while you weren’t, asshole.”
Lacie couldn’t stop the curiosity from brimming over. “Who are you, anyway?” she asked the woman standing next to Trent with her hand on his arm.
Trent looked at his feet. “Lacie, this is my wife, Diane.”
Lacie’s eyes widened. “Wife?” She’d figured he was sleeping around on her, but married? Really?
“Um, yeah, we were sort of separated when I met you, but we’ve been trying to work things out, and I didn’t know how to tell you with all your other drama.” He looked at her with pleading eyes, and she didn’t even try to stop the laugh that bubbled out.
“Yeah, I don’t see how you could have, seeing as how you never even talked to me while we dated.” To Diane, she tried for cordiality. “Good luck. I respect the institute of marriage, even if your husband doesn’t know how to. Maybe you can grow him a set of dangly bits between his legs.” She should have just said the word balls but wanted to reserve her rare cursing for something or someone who mattered.
“Wait. How are you getting home?” Trent clearly didn’t know what he wanted as he looked between Lacie and Diane, but Simon took the decision right out of his hands with words that left her breathless.
“She’s going home with me, where I’m going to do all the things to her she deserves. Things you wouldn’t even know how to do.”
Diane’s eyes widened at Simon, and Lacie practically heard the woman’s ovaries explode. She almost felt sorry for Diane being stuck with Trent. However, the possessive hand on her back steering her to the table had her forgetting Trent altogether.
“Ladies,” Simon spoke without sitting, “my apologies, but there’s something I need to do to Lacie. If you’ll excuse us …”
“YES! Chakra-straightening time!” Aubree hollered, to Lacie’s immense mortification.
“Oh. My. God. You better fucking call me tomorrow, girl.”
Lacie was entirely too embarrassed to answer either one of them, especially since it seemed like the entire bar was watching them, Trent and Diane included.
“Let’s get out of here,” Simon muttered, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
Yep. She was down with that.
In the car, Simon fumed. He’d stayed behind to make sure Trent understood Lacie was off-limits now. Lacie’s words about not needing a knight in shining armor were bouncing around in his head the entire time. Wasn’t that why he’d been hanging on? Either way, Trent was gone, along with his fucking wife.
He’d snapped. Simon didn’t know what he was doing, but girls’ night out was a bad idea. He looked over at her, in that green dress that hugged every single one of her fucking curves, and cursed.
She looked at him, surprise etched in her features.
“Sorry,” he mumbled but didn’t offer an explanation for his impromptu curses.
When he should have been thinking about the case, going over notes, figuring out what the hell he’d missed, he’d been following Lacie around like a puppy and had no idea what to do about it.
Well, he damn well knew what to do, and he was about to show her a thing or two.
“I’m so sorry about my friends. You would think the
y’d never had sex before,” Lacie began her ever-constant litany of wanting to talk about what happened.
“Not right now.”
“But I just want to explain. I wasn’t expecting Trent to show up, and—”
“I said, not right now, Lacie.” Simon’s jaw hurt with the tension as he utilized every last ounce of restraint to keep from launching himself at her in the tiny rental car.
That shut her up as he pulled into his garage and shut off the lights.
“Go inside, Lacie. I need to get myself together.” He was deceptively quiet. Anger simmered at the surface, but it was anger at himself. His own lack of control.
With an adorable squeak, she complied, scurrying out of the car and inside the house.
Simon inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He could do this. She was just a woman. He could conquer this. He reminded himself why he was doing it, but Tanya’s face was all but forgotten. It was sort of a relief that he couldn’t remember what she looked like. He could see that as a sign, but he wouldn’t.
When he finally composed himself enough to go inside his home, he found Lacie standing by the wet bar in the living room, looking out over the panoramic vista with a drink in her hand. She looked so pretty in the green dress, lost in thought.
He had to know. The sadist in him wanted to know how badly he was hurting her. He needed to torture himself with the knowledge because, clearly, his own ideals and expectations of himself had fled.
“What are you thinking, Lacie?” he uttered in the quiet room.
She turned to him, her mouth set firmly in a line across her face. She looked like she’d come to a decision, and Simon wasn’t going to like it.
“You aren’t a romantic man, Simon.” He barked out a laugh, but she held up a finger. “I’m not done. You’re not a romantic, but you’re passionate. You walk around, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, assuming all responsibility yourself. You refuse to give up this tenuous grasp of control you insist on having.”
His breath left in a rush, and Simon found himself moving toward her. “I’m usually very much in control, Lacie. It’s you I tend to lose it around.”
Her defiant little chin lifted, and she looked him straight in the eyes, her mahogany pools boring into him. “Don’t lose it, Simon. Take it.”
It wasn’t a conscious thought to kiss her, but Simon found himself lost in the taste of the scotch on her lips. It was easily the tastiest concoction ever invented: Lacie’s lips and Glenfiddich.
This was it. She’d given him control. He was taking it. Damn the consequences.
“Go to my room. No questions,” he ordered and watched as she smoothly walked away, her hips swaying enticingly, and disappeared down the hallway. Did she even know what she did to him?
Simon turned and poured himself three fingers of scotch before tossing the burn down his throat.
Then more deep breathing as he decided which way to fuck her first.
Chapter Twenty
Simon wanted Lacie to experience so much pleasure at his hands she would be a trembling puddle of sensations and wouldn’t be able to talk about the experience. He really didn’t want to talk about what he was about to do to her, so he needed her to be so overcome by it all she couldn’t. Besides, she deserved it.
He stalked to his bedroom, unfastening the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt as he went. When he got there, Lacie sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her lap, biting her lip.
“Nervous?”
Her eyes snapped up to his, and the heat in them nearly brought him to his knees.
“I’m excited.”
Simon’s room had more furniture in it than most of the minimalist rooms in the house because this was his room. An armoire faced his bed, with a massive mirror on the door. A chair was off to the side, where he laid out clothes. Two bedside tables. A floor lamp. It was the only cozy room in the house, and Simon liked it that way.
Moving the chair to the foot of the bed, facing the mirror, he glanced at Lacie, who hadn’t moved. She was nervous, whether she would admit it or not.
“Take off your dress, Lacie. Slowly.”
Her hands trembled as she gripped the hem of the dress, pulled it up over delicious curves, and dropped it on the ground next to her. Simon spent the next thirty seconds trying to find air. Unable to speak, he simply raised his index finger and twirled it in the air. Obediently, Lacie spun in a slow circle.
He reached for the front clasp of her bra and unfastened it, letting the lace scraps slither down her arms as he hefted her breasts in his hand, testing their weight before bowing to temptation and sucking one nipple into his mouth.
It was pure torture. The heaven of the fleshy mounds as he pulled on it with his tongue, coupled with Lacie’s fingers tugging painfully in his hair, conspired to undo him completely.
He stood straight and began unbuttoning his shirt, forcing a calm to his shaking hands.
Simon relished Lacie’s hungry gaze as it tracked his movements and she licked her lips as he exposed his skin. It gave him a high he’d never felt before, and it helped to still the trembling in his muscles. The rush actually helped as he worked the buckle on his pants, which otherwise would have been a mindless fumbling. Her gaze froze on the tattoo wrapping around his bicep, and he vainly flexed just to watch her eyes widen. And then she licked her lips again.
Fuck me.
When he dropped his pants, her eyes widened at his total nudity. He took a step toward her and encased her in his arms, the desire to feel her flesh against his complete and all-consuming.
Simon bent his head and took her mouth in a sensual kiss. This entire night would be about sensuality, taking her to heights she’d never known. He would make sure of that. And the kiss told her so. He wrapped his arms around her as her body arched into his. As her soft slick tongue met his, he stroked it, sucking it into his mouth as their bodies made promises to each other he never thought he’d be able to keep.
When she tried to draw him onto the bed, he stopped her.
“Chair.” He couldn’t form complete sentences, so he spoke the bare minimum to her, his voice sounding like he’d had a gravel appetizer with dinner. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand before he followed her.
Leading her to the chair, Simon sat, running his hand over her hips, drawing down the scrap of silk and lace she called panties.
Then, as his fingers plunged inside her, he pulled her closer to suck her breast into his mouth again. He needed her on the brink, drenched, completely ready for him.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and writhed against Simon as he tortured her nipple while plundering her pussy. The warm softness of her breast and the heat from her folds made lava flow in his veins. The whimpers that came from her mouth made his dick strain closer to her, wanting to be buried in her heated flesh.
It was time.
He released her breast with a plop and turned her so she faced the mirror. He spoke and watched her while he mindlessly put the condom on, holding his erection at the base in an attempt at restraint.
“Look how beautiful you are. We’re going to both watch this, Lacie. I want you to see how exquisite you look when you come.” His words were a strangled murmur, as his dick ached to be inside her.
“I can’t do this in front of a mirror, Simon,” she protested breathlessly. A flush spread from her chest, and she looked fucking gorgeous leaning against him.
He chuckled. “You can. And you will.” Gripping her hips, he guided her down onto his lap. He gripped himself at the base, choking off the inevitable but needing this to last. “Just lean back on my chest. I’m doing all the work here. I just want you to see how beautiful we are together.”
“I know we’re beautiful together—” Lacie stopped talking, blessedly, when he slid inside her, the warm confines of
her tight sheath enough to make them both gasp.
“Lean back,” he insisted, and when she did, they could both see in the mirror, two people sitting on a chair. As he pushed himself in to the hilt, only his balls hung under her sweet folds. This had to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen, his dick inside her sweet, pink flesh, stretching her as it clenched around him.
He kissed the skin on her shoulders, murmuring words of encouragement to her as he felt her adjust to his size. Her warm walls pulsed around him, massaging him in a torturous bliss.
“Don’t move, you understand?” His words came out a hoarse moan, but she nodded, her lips pursed with a hiss. She was as undone by this experience as he was.
Simon ran his hands over her smooth skin, one hand to her breast, one down to where they were joined. Lacie’s face was flushed red, and it was beautiful.
He began to circle her clit, watching her response.
“Oh …” she moaned, pressing back against him. Simon struggled to stay still, wrapping his free arm tighter around her. Her back against his front was warm and soft, a contradiction to his cold, chiseled features. When she came, it was almost immediate, and he sucked hard on her shoulder to keep himself from pumping wildly into her. Her mouth formed the perfect little “O” and her face took on a pained look of ecstasy as she convulsed around him, her inner walls pressing against his cock. She felt perfect.
“See? Fucking amazing.” His voice was a harsh, guttural sound in her ear. He felt her shiver. “Put your legs outside mine.” He guided her where he needed her. “Again.”
“What? I’ve never,” she gasped. “I can’t have more than one …”
He pressed his fingers against her clit to shut her up, and he began the insistent circles once more. Simon kissed her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth, then began kissing and nibbling the skin on her neck behind her ear. He was the picture of restraint, and that made him proud, when all he wanted was to take her, claim her, and fuck her hard. But this was for her. He would show her how in control he could be.
