“Fuck, so wet, incredible,” he muttered, tearing his mouth away from mine as his fingers glided over my slick warm entrance.
I had barely drawn breath before he spun me around on my back and his hand worked my jean shorts slowly over my butt and down my legs. He barely had one leg out before he spread the leg already in his hand widely and dipped his mouth to the top of my thigh.
Excited and nervous, I held my breath as his lips trailed over the soft skin on my inner thigh then stopped. Drawing a deep breath, he stared at me and sighed. “Fuck, this is difficult. I’m too fucking hard,” he muttered and groaned again.
Heat instantly rose to my cheeks when he paused, giving me time to realize where we were at and how his face was almost touching my wet underwear. It felt much more intimate than I had imagined it would feel.
Probably more intimate than if we’d had sex. But even though I felt shy and unprepared, I took pleasure from knowing I had riled Simon up and he really wanted me.
Although inexperienced, I knew enough to know better than to tease a man like Simon, and figured if he was being honest, then so was I.
“Don’t stop,” I said, trying to behave like what was happening wasn’t a big thing. The man of my dreams was inches from the most intimate part of my body and I knew my reaction was all important in letting him know I was ready to explore my sexuality.
“You’ve done this before?” He asked, his eyes narrowed to mine.
I shook my head, “I’m not totally innocent. A boy in school wanted me to have sex, but I said no. We did some other stuff and fooled around, but we didn’t do this and we didn’t have sex.” I felt myself flush again and was greeted with a soft smile.
“You sucked his cock?” He asked pointedly, and I shrugged, embarrassed again in an instant. I chewed the side of my mouth and nodded again.
“Well, now I’m pissed and jealous of him that he got anywhere near you,” he muttered without a hint of humor. “I needed to know, baby, so don’t be embarrassed because I was wondering how you’d respond to this. Some chicks are weirded out by oral sex in the beginning.”
“I kind of am… it’s very intimate for a girl.”
“I understand. You have played with yourself before, right? Had orgasms… come I mean? Shit. Ignore me, I’m fucking useless at tact,” he offered and shook his head. “You’re fucking twenty,” he said, like that told him I masturbated. Of course I had. What female my age wouldn’t be curious about her body and what it could do?
“Ever used a vibrator?”
“No. Please stop beating yourself up. To be honest, I’m stunned at your patience. I think you’re amazing. What other guy would have had the patience you have shown me?” I asked.
“One that wants the ultimate prize,” he blurted out.
Shoving him away, I sat up and hid myself. His comment suddenly making me feel dirty. “And there it is. The reason for all this mollycoddling.”
“What the fuck did I do?” He asked, staring up in confusion with his brow bunched and with a hurt look on his face.
“I’m a prize? A prize what? Idiot? Poor naïve Piper can’t possibly make it in the music business if her cherry’s still intact?”
“Whoa, what the fuck?” he argued and climbed up to sit on the couch again with his hands held up in front of him “What the fuck happened? What’s going on? Why are you flipping out on me?”
“You said you were taking your time to ensure you got the 'ultimate prize',” I stated using quote marks with my fingers.
“Yep, I did. What’s wrong with that?”
“Ha. So you admit it. All this is just so you can what? Deflower me?”
“Good God, no,” he chuckled like what I had said was absurd.
“I mean the prize as in having you for the long haul, Piper. I told you yesterday I’m not in this to tap you. If that was all I wanted, I’d have done it by now and you’d never have seen it coming… if you’ll excuse the pun. But as my comment has turned you off and made you angry, I think this would be a good time to take a break. Let’s both cool down and you can draw breath for a while. I’m never going to pressure you,” he repeated.
Once again my eyes ticked over his face for the truth and my instincts told me he meant what he said.
“Fuck, I need you to believe me when I say being around you and not taking what I want is killing me. My balls were almost exploding in these pants as I sat there between your legs. The sweet smell of your wet pussy was so fucking tempting. You are so incredibly tempting, but this is at your pace, not mine, remember?”
My focus was on my hands and he took them in his. Pulling me to stand, he bent down to the floor, grabbed my tank top and pulled it over my head. His action, while caring, made me feel like a child again. Stepping to the side of him, I fed my foot back into my jean shorts and pulled them up.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay?” Simon asked with a deep concern in his tone.
“Sure,” I answered, my voice lighter than I felt. I swallowed hard as I fought the growing lump in my throat. My voice didn’t fool me, so I knew he would never believe that, but I was surprised when he went along with my answer.
“Good. Let’s try to put this behind us and get back to my plans for the day.” My head was suddenly bathed in confusion at the way he had appeared to brush off what happened between us. It felt as if he was done with me. If I wasn’t putting out, I was getting dressed.
I folded my arms and swallowed again. “If you don’t mind, I may just duck out and head home,” I replied, determined not to cry in front of him. I hate leaving like this, but I really need time to think.
A flash of hurt flitted through Simon’s eyes, but he didn’t argue with me. “Want me to take you, or would you rather have a car?”
“There’s no point in you wasting your day by driving back and forth. If you could just get me a driver that would be great.”
For a minute he paused like he wanted to say something, but eventually he let out a soft sigh, scratched the back of his head and reluctantly pulled out his cell phone.
Wandering away from me and out toward the pool I heard him arrange my lift back to Santa Monica and I wanted to cry. Staring at his strong muscular back with his shoulders slumped, I immediately regretted my decision. My eyes drifted down to the ground near where he stood, and I noticed my clothing still lay where I’d discarded them.
At that very same moment he must have noticed as well because when he placed his cell back in his pocket he reached down and swiped them up off the floor. Neatly, he turned my crop pants the right way out and even from a distance I could see how sad my decision had made him.
Am I being immature by leaving? Will he think I’m running away? Will me going home put him off me? I felt bad for ruining his plans, but I felt it was the right decision.
So much had happened in twenty-four or so hours. I needed time to absorb everything I had learned since I had arrived at Simon’s place.
I had no regrets about what we had done, but I was glad we had stopped, because if I ever crossed a line with Simon I had to be sure he wanted me for all the right reasons.
Chapter Thirteen
The journey home gave me plenty of time to think about everything Simon had told me. As hard as it was to leave him behind, to my mind it was the right thing to do.
It would have been easy to have stayed and given in to the new feelings coursing through me, but I respected myself more than that.
Perhaps if Gibson’s warning about Simon to Chloe hadn’t rung in my ears, I wouldn’t have regarded Simon with as much suspicion, but it had only taken one comment for me to doubt the situation that had developed between us.
No matter what had taken place before I left, Simon and I had chemistry. No one had ever made me feel how I had when I was with him, but I had no regrets in calling a halt and taking the time to consider it all.
From the moment I arrived home, I thought about how fast Simon had made his move, yet how soft and gentle he had tr
eated me in comparison to everything I’d read about him. On paper he was a prize douche bag, but his reputation and history with women was nothing like the man I saw in his own home.
Did I read the situation wrong? Unless I was mistaken, Simon’s gaze held genuine warmth and attraction, but what did I know about that, given my past?
My mind wandered to his smile; his powerful, lean, yet muscular body; the way his eyes appeared to change color when he became heated; and I groaned aloud in frustration.
Then there were all the ways he kissed me: tentative and gentle, sensual and tender, and later more demanding, less controlled, and much more seductive and intoxicating. Seduction: were those different kinds of kisses all part of his player technique?
Fresh doubts and confusion plagued me for the whole of the weekend as new thoughts for analysis popped into my head, but actions spoke louder than words and not once since I left his place did he try to contact me.
If he were serious about getting to know me better wouldn’t he have done this? Hell, maybe he’s moved on already.
Perhaps I was a little piece of forbidden fruit because of Gibson, but after Saturday morning he had decided I wasn’t worth the hassle. Who knew?
Debating his behavior, the time we spent together, and countering the negatives with his sister Stevie’s account of how Simon had changed, exhausted me, and for the most part I thought Simon’s behavior was genuine, but his mention of ‘the prize’ was very off-putting to say the least. Especially from someone with a reputation like his.
By Monday morning I felt far from rested. What did I think would happen? Did I think he’d come running after me? Beg me to be with him? Of course not. Simon McLennan has never had to chase any woman… but he could have called if his intentions were real.
On the way to work it seemed as if every tune on the radio reminded me of my weekend. “Without You” Avicii, and “Numb”, by Linkin Park, were usually two of my favorite songs, but when I heard them in the context of my mood they didn’t make me feel like they usually did.
As I neared the studio, my heart skittered chaotically at the thought of facing Jeff. Although the incident from Friday had been at the back of my mind, I had refused to deal with the fact I’d have to stand up to him again.
Thinking about this I turned into the parking lot of Gravity. Switching off the music my anxiety grew because right there in front of me Jeff was waiting at the entrance.
“Fuck,” I muttered with a sense of dread in my heavy heart as I angrily gathered up my purse and notebook from the passenger seat beside me. Keep calm. Don’t panic. You got this. If he doesn’t get out of the way, kick him in the balls.
Adrenaline fueled my anger and with no further contact from Simon, my mood was even darker than I knew I was capable of being. Don’t let this douche intimidate you. You got this.
Fortunately, I was opening my car door when Otto drove into the parking lot and into the space next to me. My gaze slid over to Jeff and saw him enter the doors of the studio. Relief washed through me.
“Good weekend? I hope you got plenty of rest, we got a lot of work to do today,” he asked and advised me.
“Yeah, stayed home and rested for most of it.” Which was true, but it was more restless than restful given all the emotional shit I digested.
Smiling his approval, he nodded, and gestured with his hand in the direction of the studio, “Shall we?” he asked and we both made our way inside.
The people present in the studio would never have guessed there was a huge rift between Jeff and I from the way we worked closely together. His hands were on fire and the angst I felt about Simon translated to the lyrics. It gave my performance of the songs extra emotional weight. I had never sung better.
Otto beamed from ear to ear and even Grunt banged his drum sticks together in applause in approval. “Dope,” he muttered, meaning I rocked the tracks.
Once again Grunt was the person who put the biggest beaming smile on my face. Being a man of few words, whenever he praised me he was the person who had the biggest impact on my confidence.
Every day I felt my range grow more solid thanks to the warm-up exercises Gibson had taught me. Before, I could usually sing most things, but he had taught me how to slide from one voice to another using my head, chest, and abdomen, while controlling my breathing.
It gave me a greater understanding that my voice, like any other instrument, had to be finely tuned.
During lunch I avoided Jeff by staying in the studio to listen to the other band recording and when Otto called Jeff back to talk to him as we were leaving at the end of the day, I hastily ran to my car and was driving out of the parking lot when I saw him coming out of the building in my peripheral vision.
Driving home, I had mixed feelings: relief at avoiding a confrontation with Jeff, and annoyance at Simon for his continued silence.
Checking my cell several times during the day, my disappointment grew when Simon hadn’t made contact. What did I expect? Someone like him had never had to try with a woman.
My heart hurt, bruised with uncertainty and doubt and I wondered if he had decided I was too young and skittish to pursue me further. I sighed.
Shaking my low mood, I tried to focus on the satellite navigation guiding me home, but no matter how hard I tried, my mind continually flitted over our conversations from the weekend, like some broken down record.
In all the distraction I hadn’t noticed Jeff had followed me, and it wasn’t until I was entering the security gates that I caught his huge shiny bike and his unmistakable form as I swung into the parking garage from the other side of the closed iron gates. Shit.
First thing I did when I locked up my car was to inform the superintendent not to disclose information about me. I had no one who should be looking for me. Gibson, Chloe, Thomas, and Simon all knew where I was.
As far as Otto knew, I was staying at an apartment belonging to Thomas’ friend and any correspondence was to go through Thomas as his office was given as my official address.
Although confident I was safe inside the complex, I wasn’t sure how else to handle Jeff other than to threaten him with the police. Could I really do that? What if that didn’t work? What if it made matters worse? Unwanted familiar feelings of being trapped from my time at home began to surface and I wasn’t sure who to turn to.
If I called Gibson to confide in him, I knew I would have had to tell him the whole sorry story and I figured I’d get the whole ‘I told you so’ lecture or worse.
Also, knowing Gibson was fearless when he became protective, the last thing I wanted was his involvement, both from the perspective of it drawing more attention to our connection and his personal life.
As for Simon, it had begun to look as if he had dropped me like a hot potato when I hadn’t put out like he’d hoped.
Contacting Thomas again was my only option and hoped that he could help. The dread I felt as I made the call bubbled up to my throat and made me dissolve in tears. Fears I had didn’t completely vanish with Thomas, but he had concluded the call with the promise to pull his weight.
Thomas rang Otto and threatened to pull me from the contract with the studio if Otto didn’t sack Jeff or get him off my back. But when Otto rang Jeff, he apparently told him all he had wanted to do was apologize for his behavior in the parking lot on the Friday before.
When Thomas told me this I felt relieved, but I was still unsure if I completely trusted Jeff’s explanation. At least everyone knew what he’d done, and I was assured by both Thomas and Otto they’d keep a close eye on him.
Cooking spaghetti Bolognese, I sat down to eat and thought about how fortunate I was again. Not all women had the security of living in the lap of luxury and staying safe in their beds at night like I had.
My thoughts were interrupted by the intercom and I jumped high in my chair, startled by the unexpected buzzer. Anxiety gripped me as I stared at the intercom box on the wall. Jeff fear gripped my stomach and tied it in knots even though no one
could get at me here.
The light continued to flash on the wall indicating the super’s call and for a moment I was hesitant in answering, but curiosity outweighed my fears because I was safe in my apartment, so I wandered over to the button and answered.
“Simon McLennan is here in the hallway, Miss,” I was informed. Simon? Here?
I was shocked, speechless for a moment, as my head turned, and I looked at my messy kitchen with dirty pots and pans in the sink. I groaned because I looked like an unorganized slob.
“What do you want me to tell him?” the doorman asked, interrupting my thoughts when I hadn’t answered him.
“Oh, sorry,” I replied and shook my head still struggling for ways to clean the apartment and make myself presentable. I needed a genie for that. Then I glanced at the plate of uneaten spaghetti bolognase. I could hardly eat that in front of him either for the same reasons of mess as the last time.
“Send him up,” I replied knowing it took less than three minutes from the front lobby to my door. Grabbing the metal pots and pans I piled everything into the dishwasher, shoved my food down the waste disposal and ran into the bedroom while undressing.
My doorbell chimed as I pulled on a clean thong and I swiped my favorite Dior perfume from the dressing table, spraying it liberally as I snatched a small violet-colored off-the-shoulder sundress from my closet.
On the way to the door, I pulled the dress over my head. Bending my head over I flicked my hair down then back up as I straightened again. Then, taking a long deep breath, I pulled the heavy wooden door to the hallway open.
“Simon, what are you doing here?” I asked with a straight face and a hint of surprise in my voice as I tried to appear relaxed. Inside, my heart pounded in my chest so hard I felt slightly dizzy.
“I wanted to see you… to talk to you,” he told me. “And I couldn’t stay away any longer,” he confessed as he stood with his hands on my wooden doorjamb in the hall.
Piper: A Last Score Spin Off Page 12
