The way he was devouring his meal made my mouth water. But I knew there was no way I’d walk away from the table without getting in a filthy state once I began to eat.
With an extraordinary amount of delicacy, I choose the smallest rib—if there is such a act as picking up a pork rib covered in gooey sauce delicately—and hesitated when it was level with my mouth.
Stretching my lips clear of the sauce, I dug my teeth into the pork and took several small nibbles of the succulent meat. “Mm.” An involuntary moan of appreciation crept up from my chest because they tasted delicious and I hummed in appreciation just as he had moments before.
Simon grinned and shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, chuckling to himself as his eyes darkened, and I frowned because I felt I’d obviously done something wrong.
I shrugged and said the first thing that came into my head. “Like my mom always said, 'You can’t say meat without saying Mm'.”
Reaching over toward me, he lifted his hand and swiped his coarse thumb pad across my lips then stuck it in his mouth. When he pulled it out, he licked his lips seductively and another wide grin sent a rod of delight straight between my thighs.
“What did you do that for?” The question was out before I had the chance to think about what I was saying. His unexpected intimate gesture had stolen my breath for a moment and my heart pounded wildly in my chest.
“What?” he asked, looking confused, but I thought I detected a playful tone. He certainly looked amused.
“The thing you just did with your thumb,” I stated because when I’d seen Gibson do that to Chloe it had always looked intimate… like I shouldn’t have been there. I may not have had a lot of personal experience of men, but I’d seen enough romance movies to be sure he’d crossed a line.
He shrugged. “There’s only one thing better than the taste of barbecue sauce from a woman’s lips,” he said, ignoring the liberty he’d taken as he flashed me a cocky smile.
Picking up another rib he dug in like nothing had happened and using his teeth, ripped another large chunk of meat from it.
“But they were my lips,” I replied, sounding utterly confused at where he was going with the conversation. For a few seconds I felt vulnerable, inept, unprepared for the move he had made, and unsure why he would have chosen to do that to me.
Was this how Simon really was? Is this why Gibson argued with him when he paid attention toward me? Up until that point I had never experienced anyone invading my personal space uninvited, outside of Colin’s anger, the way Simon did.
“Exactly,” he said, his eyes dropping to my mouth and suddenly I wasn’t hungry any more. For a second I thought I was mistaken, then wondered if he was joking, then ultimately, I felt out of my depth.
I immediately felt uncomfortable and acted on instinct, challenging his comment.
“It’s not okay for you to screw with my feelings, Simon. I’m here because I thought I could trust you, yet I’m barely inside your house and you think that gives you the right to take liberties with me?”
Simon’s eyes went wide, like I’d shocked him by calling him out. He stopped eating, rib poised mid-air and stared at me, hard.
Holding his gaze, I was determined not to turn away from him because it had taken all of my courage to stand up to him.
Suddenly he threw his rib back onto the plate, the hollow bone clattering noisily and shattering the otherwise silent night air.
Sighing heavily, he looked apologetic and when he spoke it was in his low serious tone.
“Fuck. You’re right. I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. I totally forgot myself with you… and of course you can trust me. I’d never hurt you, Piper.”
“Is this how you treat all women?”
“Only the ones I’m attracted to,” he replied, and I searched his face for a hint he was teasing me. When I saw none, I wasn’t sure what to do with his new disclosure.
Deciding he was joking, I called him out again. “Don’t fuck with my head. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. I may be young but that doesn’t give you the right to poke fun at me.” Pushing my chair away with the back of my knees I stood up and stared down at him as anger rose inside me.
“After the week I’ve had I’m not in the mood for games, Simon. I lived with the King of Mind Fucks and I don’t appreciate you toying with me like this.
You’re making me feel uncomfortable and frankly I expected more from you. Maybe I should go home?”
“Who says I’m playing games?” he asked throwing his arms wide. “Look, that thing I just did with my thumb? What can I say? It was completely spontaneous. I forgot who you were for a second.”
I huffed out a breath. “Yeah? So, mistaking me for one of your groupies is supposed to make me feel less offended?” I snapped. Anger replaced the awkwardness of the situation.
Simon leaned over and plucked several small white napkins from a silver dispenser on the table. Silently he wiped each of his fingers one by one.
My eyes followed his hands until he’d finished, then looked back up into his. He shrugged then smoothed his closely groomed beard as he considered my question.
“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed flatly, all hint of humor gone from his voice. Glancing up at me he sighed, and I inhaled a deep breath as I tried to remain calm.
It would have been easy for me to call a cab and run away because I was so unfamiliar with the line of conversation, but this was the kind of issue I had to get past if I was going to take care of myself.
Simon took a bottle of wine from the cooler on the table and poured us both a drink. Grabbing his glass, he took a small swig and set it down.
“Look, Piper. I agree what I did was intimate and in hindsight I guess no one has ever done that before to you. I get how it must have looked, especially since you weren’t through my door more than ten minutes before it happened but trust me when I say I didn’t do it to take a liberty. If I’m honest I forgot myself. It kinda shocked me too, but it happened, and there’s no use my pretending it didn’t.”
Getting out of his chair he wandered over to my side of the table, pulled out the cane dining chair next to me and turned it to face me.
Scooting my chair to face his, he eased me back down in it, then sat down himself. Tenderly, he slid his hands underneath mine and lifted both my hands in his.
If my heart had been cantering before, it went into a full on gallop the instant he closed his fingers and pressed them firmly against the back of my hands. Strangely, when I should have felt wary, a sense of calm settled within me.
For a few seconds he allowed the pause in the conversation to stretch between us. With eyes full of sincerity, I recognized the Simon I knew; the Simon I could trust.
The look of regret on his face appeared genuine, and he drew a small breath before delivering his honest smile. “Why do you think Gibson gets his balls in a stranglehold about us being alone sometimes?”
I shrugged. “From what you did a few minutes ago I’d say he doesn’t trust you not to take advantage.” The time for anything but straight talking had passed I felt.
Simon snickered and shook his head slowly, but never dropped eye-contact with me. “Piper, the last thing I wish to do is take advantage of you. Why is it so hard to believe that I can be a good man when it counts?”
“And that was you being a good man? Pulling that little stunt with—”
“That was a genuine slip, an accident; an absentminded mistake.” His voice was laced with frustration and the fact someone with his reputation and experience bothered to deny anything actually gave him credit. “Trust me, Piper, if I could have a do-over I’d take it back in a heartbeat.” I sighed. Am I overreacting?
“So where does that leave us?”
“I guess it leaves us starting again. Are you going to eat those ribs?” he asked nodding his head at the practically untouched food on my plate and giving us both the opportunity to skip past what he had done.
“They’re hardly
the kind of dish you serve up when you invite a woman to your home for dinner,” I giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side of the start to our evening.
“Ah, well you see, I’ve never had a woman home for dinner before, but your comment is noted. Ribs are off the menu next time.” My attention immediately flitted to the sultry female voice I’d heard the night before and my eyes narrowed in suspicion, but I continued to play along.
“There’s going to be a next time?” My questioning brow was met with a wicked grin and I was glad we had managed to salvage the evening. More than that, I was proud I hadn’t retreated into myself like I could easily have done.
“Definitely,” he replied with another warm smile. My heart turned a somersault at his immediate reply.
Chapter Eight
“Should we abandon these and swap them out for wine and tapas, since I made such an ass of things?” Tapas were far easier to eat with more finesse.
“Sounds like a plan,” I smiled, relieved that he was still intending to feed me. I was starving hungry by this point.
Tugging me up to stand, he dropped one hand to his side and took me into his kitchen by the other.
After pulling out a counter stool and ensuring I was seated, he pulled on the huge fridge door and lifted out a large sectional porcelain tray full of everything needed for a feast of tapas.
Stretching up, he pulled some crackers from a cupboard, flashing the most delectable small strip of toned, golden-tanned midriff with a smattering of fine hair, and I almost passed out from the strongest ache in my hands to run my fingertips across it.
When he turned sharply to face me, he caught me checking him out and a small not-so-secret smile played on his lips. Fortunately, he didn’t comment, and carried the crackers and tapas to the couch facing the infinity pool.
Sliding down from the seat I followed him, and by the time I reached him he had placed the food on the low coffee table and turned stepping right into me.
“Whoa,” he said sharply as his strong hands closed in a firm grip around my upper arms. When he steadied me, my eyes focused on his inviting full lips. His face was so close to mine I felt a sigh escape from his mouth.
Excitement and desire radiated through my veins when his warm breath ghosted over my cheek. Oh, God. What you’re doing to me. I stifled a groan that threatened to escape from my throat and a rash of tiny goose bumps spread over my skin.
A pleasurable electric current ran from my toes right into my hair. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked in concern as he took a step back to gauge my reaction.
“No. I’m fine, I never expected you—”
“Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly,” he replied, cutting across what I was about to say. His eyes narrowed in curiosity as they held mine just a fraction too long. I swallowed audibly and found his nearness powerful and unnerving.
For a few moments all I could feel was the disquiet his touch emitted within my body and the air became charged between us. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I swallowed nervously, this time willing him to kiss me, pleading silently with God to make it happen.
Dropping his hands from my arms he quickly stepped back and scratched his head. As quick as the air thickened between us, it was gone. Frustration passed through his eyes and an awkward silence developed until he sighed and stepped to the side.
“Sit. I’ll grab the wine. White still okay? I hate red wine, it tastes like shit,” he informed me as he reached into a chilled drinks cabinet over by the kitchen and pulled out an oversized bottle.
Grabbing two fresh wine glasses, he weaved his way back to where I sat and quickly poured us some new drinks. Passing me a large measure of wine, he sat back on his couch at an angle, one leg bent at the knee with it resting on the seat between us.
The piercing look he gave me felt suddenly different—intense—intimate… too intimate when his leg was only a few inches from mine. I dropped my gaze until I realized I was staring right at the sizable bulge between his legs and my head snapped back up, my eyes meeting his again. I thought I saw him bite back another smile, but he never faltered in his conversation.
“So,” he said in a soft encouraging tone, “Tell me what’s been happening. How has your first week gone? Does it live up to your expectations?”
Thankful for his ordinary conversation we spoke for around an hour, ate the last scraps of food he’d brought out, and drank all of the wine. Gradually, I felt myself relax around him and I felt the warm familiar feeling I'd had with him back in Colorado.
After a while, I felt more than a little light-headed and realized I had drunk more than I ever had and felt a little woozy.
Unfortunately, this happened as the subject for our conversation turned to the sessional guys Otto was using. I was glad I was half drunk because it wasn’t something I cared to talk about.
A couple of times I tried to digress, but Simon’s focus on the musicians brought the conversation full circle and I mentioned how talented Grunt was. I was surprised when Simon told me he had watched a YouTube video of him when he had heard he was working with me.
Immediately following this the topic inevitably got on to Jeff, and I was stunned and disappointed when I realized Thomas had broken my confidence and told Simon about the incident.
“Ah, so this is the real reason why I’m here?” My heart sunk to my stomach in disappointment. Jesus Simon’s invitation is no more than a babysitting exercise. I was livid. Thomas is going to be sorry.
My body stiffened in anger. If I hadn’t been so drunk on the wine I’d have been mortified. To say I was pissed at being put on the spot both by Thomas and Simon was an understatement. The evening had turned out anything other than how I had envisioned it.
“No, Princess—”
“Will you stop with the fucking Princess, already?” I barked, cutting his protest off as I leaned forward and banged my stemmed glass down with a loud chink on the wooden table in front of me. It was a miracle it stayed in one piece.
“No, Piper. Listen. That’s not the case. I was looking for an excuse to invite you out here when Thomas called me. And now that you’re here it’s something I had to mention. Apparently, this guy is a real slippery fucker. And naturally I feel protective of you.”
“You’re not my dad,” I hissed.
“Thank fuck, I’m not,” he added before he had a small chuckle to himself.
“Meaning?” I glared indignantly at him.
“I’d be in jail with the thoughts I’ve had about you in the last few months if that were the case.”
His comment stole my breath and left me speechless. I swallowed roughly before taking a sharp gulp of air as I felt heat rise and my face redden. His directness left me feeling stunned.
“Jail? I don’t understand,” I replied and shook my head. Now I’m definitely drunk to think he’s attracted to me. I’d never drunk that much before in my life.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Piper. You think I’ve been immune to the stolen glances and other little ‘tells’ you’ve emitted my way? I can see you’re attracted to me.” Embarrassed and muddled, I was lost for words, flustered beyond measure.
Oh, my, God he knows? For a moment I had no idea how to respond to him. My first thought was to deny it, but I figured that would only make me look immature.
Stalling for time, I grabbed my wine, drained the rest from the glass and swallowed nervously. Fighting how shy I suddenly felt, I gave him my best pointed stare.
“And how is that, exactly?” I snapped, changing from the pointed to an indignant stare.
Simon chuckled softly around the wine glass he held to his mouth. He sipped slowly on his wine with his curious eyes then leaned forward, toward me. Smiling flirtatiously, he asked, “Are you going to deny you’re attracted to me?”
Christ, kill me now. I’m dying anyway.
When he called me out, I knew if I wanted to be taken seriously as an adult woman I had to answer honestly, even at the risk of being
let down.
Inside my stomach rolled over and my heartbeat raced. What’s the worst that can happen if I admit my feelings? Rejection, that’s what. Is he bringing this up to clear the air and shut me down in a kind and gentle manner?
“That’s a pretty stupid question to ask a young woman who’s a fan of a band like M3rCy,” I settled on saying, and sounded like I wasn’t committing myself one way or the other. Good recovery, Piper.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make this about my job. I expected more than that from you. I’m not fucking with you, Piper,” he said, sternly.
My heart stilled for a nanosecond. Glancing at his wine glass, he took another mouthful and my eyes were riveted to his lips around the rim of the glass. Placing it on the table, he sat back and leaned into the couch with his head resting on the backrest of it.
“Don’t you think we’ve been around each other long enough for you to admit what you feel? We’ve grown pretty close. Tell me I’ve got it wrong, that what I’ve seen is my imagination, and this conversation stops right now.” My whole body was gripped by nerves.
My gaze dropped to my lap, and I felt every emotion everyone who had paid close attention to me had probably seen before.
Inexperience, youth, and immaturity, but mostly fear of the rebuttal I was sure would follow any admission of wanting a man like Simon and what it would mean for our friendship. I must be crazy to even have fantasized about Simon McLennan and me. He’d eat me alive, and I’d have no chance for recovery.
I was so busy wigging out that in my temporary insanity I almost missed his confession. “This may come as a shock to you, Piper, and when I say this aloud I know I’m going to sound like some sick fuck because of your age, but I’ve been fighting some feelings of my own. Since the first time I saw you in fact; but trust me when I say I’ve never regarded you as a child. You’re all woman to me.”
Simon slipped his index finger under my chin and raised my head to look into my eyes. “I don’t want to scare you by admitting this, but I’m not usually in the habit of flying back and forth to Colorado to visit my buddy Gibson. By the time we finish touring we’re sick to fuck of each other, and I’m not the benevolent kind that wants to mentor budding singers the way I have with you.”
Piper: A Last Score Spin Off Page 8
