The Truth: The Chronicles of Katrina Book Three

by Karin Tabke

  “Me, too,” he said. “Give Livy a hug and a kiss for me and tell her I’ll see her soon.”

  Katy hurried and plunked down on the toilet before Simon caught her eavesdropping. “Everything okay?’ she called nonchalantly, trying very hard not to feel like Simon’s dirty secret.

  The door opened and Simon stood there, naked as the day he was born. With his sleepy eyes and sex-mussed hair, he looked more sinful than a mortal had the right to look. A slow smile played along his full lips as he leaned into the jamb. “She pees like the rest of us.”

  Too miffed to feel embarrassed, she asked, “You pee sitting down?”

  “Never, but I do put the seat down when I’m done.” Unwinding his long muscular body, he reached over to the shower and turned it on, then grinned such a naughty I-can’t-wait-to-devour-you grin, she shivered. “I like taking showers with you.”

  “I remember that you do,” she said softly, trying very hard not to be jealous and ask him about his conversation with Mandy.

  So when he stepped into the shower and held the door open for her, she shook her head and turned to the bathroom door. “You go ahead, I need to check in with Veronica.”

  Simon reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back into his wet embrace. “She can wait.” He bit her shoulder as he pressed his erection into her butt. “I can’t.”

  The warm water sluicing down her body felt good. Simon felt better. If there had been no phone call, she would have raced him into the shower, but she turned in his arms and pressed her palms against his chest. “Simon, we need to talk.”

  His lips caught hers as the last word left her lips. “Later,” he whispered. “I need you now, Cinderella, or I’m going to turn into a pumpkin.”

  His teeth grazed along her neck, his hands sliding down her slick back to her ass. His erection jutted between them, demanding attention. “Simon …” she pleaded. “Please.”

  Exhaling loudly, he dropped his chin to the top of her head and moved his hands to a more respectable place. “You’re upset about the phone call?” he asked.

  Swallowing hard, she shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again.

  “Pick one, Cinderella. You are or you aren’t.”

  Tilting her head up to see his face, she said, “I’m not upset. I’m confused by it.”

  “My niece fell off her bike and sprained her ankle.”

  “It was—” She hesitated, wanting to pick her words carefully and hating herself because of it. She shouldn’t have to feel like she had to walk on eggshells around him. They’d come too far for that. “More than that.”

  “More how?”

  “Your tone, your …” She felt foolish. “Your level of concern, not for your niece but for Mandy.” There, she said it.

  “Amanda is my dead brother’s widow. I have a responsibility there. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

  Nodding, Katy reached for the soap and began to lather herself. “Will you tell me what happened to him?” she softly asked.

  When she reached to put the soap back on the holder, he took it and lathered himself up, his movements quick and jerky. He was irritated. “No.”

  That hurt. He rinsed off and as he did, he pulled her beneath the spray and held her as the suds ran from them both down the drain. “Don’t take it personally, Cinderella. I don’t talk about it with anyone, not even Amanda.”

  Wow, didn’t she feel special?

  Not.

  Apparently her status was just like anyone else’s.

  Blinking back the sting of tears, she stepped dripping wet from the shower, grabbed a towel, and exited the bathroom. God, she did not want to feel this vulnerable when it came to him.

  A few minutes later Simon came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and his skin glistening. Eyeing him in the large oval mirror over the dressing table where she sat, she tried to gauge his mood.

  For a long contemplative moment, he stood behind her, his gaze locked with hers. Finally, he leaned down and whispered, “Since you won’t let me ravage you, let’s go into town for some dinner.” He kissed her dewy shoulder. “I’m hungry.” Their eyes continued to hold in the mirror. Warmth swept through her as his fingers caressed her arms, and his lips pressed to the curve of her neck, his smoldering green eyes never wavering from hers in the mirror.

  “I kind of like you jealous,” he softly said.

  “I hate the way it makes me feel.”

  “Then let it go, princess.”

  She closed her eyes. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples. They responded instantly.

  His lips pressed fervently to her skin, and his fingertips increased their pressure. A slow moan escaped her throat. When he bit her, her eyes popped open and she caught her breath. The predatory intensity of his eyes as he stared at her in the mirror thrilled her.

  Tugging the towel, he pulled it from her, exposing her rosy skin. Watching herself in the mirror as Simon’s big hands caressed her breasts—stroking her nipples to stiff peaks, his simmering gaze challenging her to stop him—turned her on so much, desirous tremors racked through her.

  “Touch yourself,” he commanded softly.

  is command conjured all sorts of shocking scenarios. She hesitated. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t walked the wild side with Simon. But sexting, phone play, even their little tryst outside the Redwood Room didn’t have the face-to-face intimacy this could have. He wanted her to touch herself while he watched. It thrilled her, yes, and it petrified her inhibited self. What if she did it wrong? What if he didn’t like it? What if she looked stupid?

  But what if she did it right and he totally got off on it? Her blood warmed to the possibilities, and her nipples tightened as she imagined him hot and bothered behind her, wanting her but her refusing to allow him to touch her while she came. And it would serve him right, because her feelings still stung from his phone call with Mandy.

  “How?” she breathlessly asked.

  Simon stood, reached across her, and tilted the large oval mirror toward her, then—with her still on the little stool—he pulled her away from the dressing table, so that she was completely visible in the mirror.

  “I’ll show you,” he promised as he pulled a chair up behind her stool and sat down. Pulling her snugly between his thighs, he caught her stare and smiled, anticipating the show in his front-row seat.

  The air sizzled and snapped with energy around them. Katy bit her bottom lip, fighting the urge to beg him to touch her. “Don’t take your eyes off me unless I tell you to,” he commanded.

  Afraid her voice would betray her desperation, Katy nodded. It would always be like this. He would lead and she would follow. And that, she decided, was not a weakness but a revelation. She loved when this man stared at her with this intensity. His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated, his honed features that a hunter. He wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.

  Empowered.

  That was how he made her feel. He was all things primal. Powerful, lethal, the epitome of male, and for the moment, all hers.

  “Spread your legs.”

  A little squeak of surprise escaped her. Knees shaking, she spread her legs. His gaze dropped. His erection surged behind her. “Cinderella,” he said, “your pussy is so sweet and pink.” The warm percussion of his words flirted with her sensitive skin. “And wet. You should see it.”

  She started to look down but his sharp command stopped her. “Not until I say you can.”

  “Sorry,” she rasped as she looked into his simmering eyes. Her hands twitched in her lap.

  “Touch your nipples.”

  Not breaking gazes with him, Katy pressed her fingertips to each of her nipples. They were hard and so very sensitive. Her back bowed.

  “Stroke them. Slowly.”

  She did. Her pussy clenched. Her breathing accelerated.


  “Pluck them, Cinderella, slowly like the strings of a harp.”

  Swallowing hard, Katy plucked them. The urge to look at her hands on herself was overwhelming.

  Simon’s cock behind her was just as impatient for a peek. “Look, Kat, look how pretty a picture that is.”

  When she looked and saw herself plucking and strumming her hard nipples, and took in Simon’s voracious emerald eyes on her, she nearly came.

  “Cup your tits.”

  She did as commanded.

  “Squeeze them.”

  She squeezed them.

  “I want to suck them.”

  “I want you to suck them,” she confessed, squirming on the stool.

  “I will,” he promised.

  “Look at me, Simon,” Katy commanded softly. The words slipped from her lips before she could call them back. But when his eyes immediately caught hers in the mirror, power zinged through her. Plucking her nipples, she bit her bottom lip, relishing the sensation. Capitalizing on his undivided attention, she asked, “Why did you tell her you were at work?”

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t hesitate with his answer. “It’s easier than arguing.”

  She pinched her nipples, gasping in pleasured pain. His eyes widened, and his cock flexed between her ass cheeks. “Why an argument?”

  He pressed hotly into her back. “It’s complicated.”

  She slid her hands down to where his rested on the armrests of his chair. Entwining her fingers through his, she brought his hands up and around to her breasts. His fingers sampled her fullness. “Kat,” he breathed, fighting his desire to take her.

  Leaving her tits in his capable hands, Katy took control. Gliding her hands down her belly she pressed them to the inside of each knee and spread her legs wider. Holding Simon’s eyes in the mirror, she cocked a brow and asked, “Did you like fucking her?”

  His full sensuous lips turned up into a naughty smile. “Not nearly as much as I like fucking you.”

  Sliding her fingertips along her swollen wet seam, Katy hissed. She couldn’t help a glance down. She was soaking wet, but the vision of her fingers stroking her hard clitoris turned her on harder.

  “That’s beautiful,” Simon rasped in her ear. “Slide a finger in.”

  She did and they moaned in unison. His body was hard and demanding behind her.

  “Move it in and out slowly, Kat.”

  She did, and the sensation coupled with the juicy sound pushed her to the edge of her seat.

  “With your other hand, stroke your clit.”

  It took her a few seconds to get the rhythm right, but when she did, the feeling she generated kicked up her need another notch. Pressing her back into his chest, Katy arched and pushed her head into the corner of his neck and shoulder. His fingers plucked her nipples aggressively. It hurt so damn good.

  “Why do you like fucking me more?” She gasped when he pinched her nipples. “Oh, Jesus, Simon, that feels good.”

  His teeth grazed a path from her jaw to the crook of her neck. “Because I never felt about her like I feel about you.” He bit her soft skin, and the building orgasm jettisoned through her.

  “Simon,” she cried, as her fingertips strummed her clit faster. Her body shook and shimmied, wild and wanton. Simon’s hands squeezed her breasts as he pumped behind her, his bite hold on her neck relentless.

  She was gulping for air as her orgasm subsided. Simon stood, yanking her up with him. He spun her around as he sat back down, pulling her onto him, then spearing her with his rock-hard cock. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, Katy cried out, the erotic sensation of his ramming into her, hitting home, and his fingers biting into her ass as he ground up into her, nothing short of mind-shattering.

  Wildly they thrashed against each other, demanding what they so desperately wanted. It was more than sex, it was an offering of body and soul by two people who acknowledged that they were emotionally connected.

  Melding into him as another tidal wave rose within her, Katy cried out in pleasured pain again. It was the only way to relieve the pressure of the sensory overload Simon created within her. Hungrily, his lips locked on to a nipple and he sucked it deeply into his mouth. It was her undoing. With the fragility of fine crystal smashing into concrete, he destroyed her.

  “Simon,” she gasped hoarsely. “Harder.”

  His fingers bit down and he rammed himself so deeply into her that she literally felt as if she had died a thousand deaths and gone to heaven. It was always like that with him, and as it was, she lost yet another piece of her heart to him.

  He had the power to hurt her more deeply than anyone in her life ever had.

  And even now, even with her body, heart, and soul rejoicing at being in his arms, some small part of her knew he was going to.

  h, my God, Simon,” Katy panted. “That was crazy.”

  They clung together, connected as man and woman, each fighting for breath.

  Releasing her ass, Simon’s hands clasped her head as his lips dipped down to hers. He kissed her slow, long, and hard. Such an intimate gesture. Reverent really, as if he were trying to tell her without words how he felt. And if Katy could trust her instincts, Simon was just as moved by the power of their lovemaking as she was.

  It could never be replicated with another man.

  Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, Katy pressed forcefully into him, wanting the imprint of his skin on hers and hers on him. Simon moaned, deepening his kiss.

  Tears welled. She didn’t want to get all emotional, not in front of him. It would scare a man like Simon off. He wasn’t the kind of man who did relationships. Not the kind of relationship she wanted. There was something inside of him, despite his relentless pursuit of her that held him back. There was no chance for them beyond what they had now.

  A tear escaped, landing on their lips. Simon pulled slightly away from her, holding her face in his hands, his gaze searching hers. “Why the tears, princess?” He swiped it away with his thumb and kissed its trail to her eyelid, even as more tears fell.

  “Happy after great sex tears, I guess,” she said, trying to laugh it off, but he wasn’t fooled.

  “That was great sex.” He smiled and slowly stood with her still impaled on him. Carefully he lifted her off him, and set her down on wobbly legs. Holding her in the circle of his arms, he asked, “You okay?”

  “Yes, but now I need another shower,” she complained, wanting to stay in his arms but wanting to make the break before he did. She was feeling extremely vulnerable at the moment and any type of rejection, perceived or otherwise, would do her in. She hated feeling weak like that, but with her history, it was hard to let go of.

  He smacked her on the ass. “Hurry up, I could eat a damn elephant.”

  “I doubt we’ll find an elephant in Napa Valley.”

  “I don’t care what we find, I just need to eat so I can have my way with you again.”

  Thirty minutes later, Katy stood in front of a scowling Simon. “What?” she asked, pirouetting. “Don’t you like my dress?”

  “That’s more like a postage stamp.”

  “It’s a little linen sheath dress.”

  “It’s a little linen come-fuck-me dress.”

  Katy laughed, and slipped on her heels.

  His scowl deepened. “With come-fuck-me shoes,” he growled.

  She rose up on her toes and kissed his stern lips. “I guess you’ll just have to guard the honeypot and make sure you’re the only one who fucks me tonight.”

  He didn’t kiss her back. “Damn it, Kat, I can see the outline of your nipples through that fabric.”

  “No, you can’t.” Grabbing her little purse, she decided to leave her cell phone in the room. There was no one and nothing she would allow to interrupt her second date with the man of her dreams. When Simon slid his cell pho
ne into his back jeans pocket, she bit back a comment.

  He was a cop, she told herself. And he was the kind of cop that when duty called, he answered.

  As they exited the Victorian, Simon took her hand. She looked up at him and smiled and her heart beat a little faster when he smiled warmly down at her.

  They were just a block from downtown St. Helena. As they rounded the corner onto Main Street, the aromas wafting from the restaurants had her salivating.

  “Oh my, it all smells so good.”

  He guided her into the first place they came upon, a cozy bistro with the most amazing scents. It was a small, intimately lit restaurant, and busy. As they waited to be seated, Katy felt the heavy stares of a few well-dressed men seated at the oak wine bar, and Simon’s stiffened response to their interest. She squeezed his hand and thankfully the hostess came then to guide them to a comfortable table, with a crescent-shaped upholstered seat. Settling her into the seat, Simon pulled his cell from his back pocket, set it on the table, then slid in beside her.

  “May I start you off with a glass of wine?” the hostess asked.

  “I’d like a glass of Cab, Silver Oak Napa if you have it,” Katy answered.

  “I’ll have a glass of your oldest Macallan, neat,” Simon said.

  “Coming right up,” the hostess said happily.

  Just as she walked away, Simon’s phone vibrated.

  Katy’s stomach did a belly flop when she saw that it was Mandy. Simon hit ignore and moved the phone to his left, away from her.

  “Simon,” Katy began, “I have to say something, and you may not like it.”

  His fingers drummed on the linen tablecloth. Was he irritated with her? If he wasn’t, he probably would be after she told him she was drawing the exclusivity line.

  “I doubt you could say anything that would upset me, Cinderella.” His eyes were warm and though he kept a wary eye on the group of men at the bar who stole occasional looks their way, he seemed to be dealing with it.

  Taking a deep breath, she held it for a second before she exhaled, and hoped she wasn’t asking too much from him too soon. But she had her boundaries and she was not going to back away from this one very important stance.