by Lexy Timms
He wrenched his mouth away from her again, the disappointment at the absence of his touch a dull ache in her heart. Simon started kissing her again, between the valley of her breasts, down to her stomach, until he stopped at the waistband of her panties.
She was now so hot with desire for him she thought she might blaze out of control. A desperate, shuddering moan escaped her throat when he focused his attention lower still and began to leave hot kisses on her inner thighs.
Wetness pooled between her legs again, and now, desperate to get out of her underwear, she reached down and quickly pulled her panties off. She couldn’t stand it any longer. “Touch me,” she begged. “Please, Simon.”
He let out a low laugh, the deep, rich sound seducing her. “Not very patient, are you?”
“How can I be patient when you kiss me like that?” she chided. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to torture me.”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Do you object to me torturing you?”
“No. I just want more,” she said breathlessly.
His wicked mouth turned up in a lazy smile. Without saying anything he got out of his boxer briefs, tore the condom out of its wrapper, and sheathed himself. It couldn’t have taken him even a minute, but to Heather it felt like forever before he positioned himself between her legs, his massive erection slapping against her thigh.
“I want you so badly, Heather,” he forced out. “Do you want me? Are you ready?”
“Yes. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” she gasped out.
The dangerous glint in his eyes suddenly turned to complete tenderness as he slowly pushed his manhood into her, until he fit inside her so perfectly he didn’t even have to move to pleasure her.
But he did move, his hips rocking into her as she wrapped her arms around him. Her hands spread across his back, the powerful muscles taut beneath her fingertips.
Ecstasy crashed through her body in waves, setting her adrift on a tide of pleasure. All she had to hold on to was him, and that was enough. Right now he was her world, and each thrust of his hips filled her with so much pleasure she couldn’t even catch her breath.
Her nails dug into his back and she moaned out his name.
The pace of his rhythmic thrusts quickened and she tightened around him, desperate for release.
As he pounded into her, his lips pressed up against her ear and he whispered in a rough voice, “I love you, Heather. I love you.”
Her heart exploded before she did as she was gripped by an emotion she had never even known existed. A heady combination of lust and love made her lightheaded. As her orgasm ripped through her it was like her heart and her body were in perfect harmony, love making every part of her body yield to every sensation his body was giving her.
He groaned loudly and started breathing heavily, letting her know that he had found his own release as well. Simon rolled away from her and gathered her in his arms.
She lay her head on his chest, the sound of his rapidly-beating heart making her own heart skip a beat. In this moment, she knew that his heart belonged to her and her alone. “I love you, too,” she told him softly.
Simon took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles tenderly. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You probably did something good in a previous life,” she said.
“I must have been a saint in a previous life to deserve you.”
It was the second-most wonderful thing anyone had ever said to her after ‘I love you’. And as she closed her eyes, the sound of his heart beating in time with her own lulled her into dreamless sleep.
HE WAS LUCKY THE CARETAKER had stocked the fridge and freeze with easily-prepared meals, because fish sticks really were the best he could manage. Simon was setting them out on two separate plates when Heather stepped into the kitchen wrapped in nothing but a bed sheet. Her hair was all mussed and there was still a pink glow in her cheeks from their lovemaking. Seeing her in this state of undress was already making his heart pound.
“That smells good,” she said sleepily.
With a smile he crossed over to the sitting area and set their plates on the table. “What would you like to drink? Fruit juice or white wine.”
She laughed. “White wine with fish sticks. That sounds like something we would eat, doesn’t it?”
He grinned. “White wine it is.”
Heather walked over to the dining area and sat down at the table.
He grabbed some utensils, a pair of glasses, and a bottle of wine from the wine rack. After he set the utensils and glasses down he poured the wine.
She grabbed one of the golden-brown fish sticks on her plate and popped it into her mouth.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Delicious,” she said around a mouthful of food.
Simon laughed. There was something about this newfound domestic tranquility that he loved. There was no urgent complication to distract them. No work-related disaster. The only thing they’d have to focus on for the weekend was each other.
In the days leading up to this trip, he had to admit he had been nervous about spending a weekend alone with her without any distractions. He had gotten so used to sharing her with the world that he had forgotten what it was like when it was just the two of them. It wasn’t that he minded sharing her. After all, Finn was important to her, and Simon was starting to care deeply about her son. It was just that Simon liked having her all to himself sometimes.
He tasted the wine before digging in to the food. “You know, this isn’t so bad.”
“If you spend a few more hours with my mother in her kitchen, you’ll be learning to cook in no time.” She smiled. “Hey, maybe we could take one of those kids’ cooking classes with Finn one of these days.”
“Count me in,” he said. “It could be like a family bonding thing.”
“Family...” Her voice trailed off as she looked him dead in the eye. “You said earlier this week that you think of me as more your family than your father. Do you really think of me and Finn that way? Do you think of us as your actual family?”
His chest went tight as he was suddenly bombarded with a barrage of emotions. “I do. Not that I want to impose that on you or Finn so soon after the stress of the custody battle—”
“I’m not sure how Finn feels about us being a family,” she said. “He’s still so young.”
Disappointment settled in his gut. He had said too much. Pushed things too early. Inwardly he cursed himself for getting the timing wrong. Of course Finn would need time to even begin to process what was going on. And Heather probably needed some space.
“But, I do know how I feel,” she continued slowly. “You’re the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” The blush in her cheeks intensified. “I hope that isn’t putting too much pressure on you.”
“Of course not,” he said, the hope in him mounting. “I want us to be together forever. I’m sorry if my thinking of us as a family is pressuring you.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t. I think we’re well on our way to becoming a family. Me, you, Finn, and my parents.”
“It was good to spend time with your parents at the dinner, even if Gary did crash the party.” He took another sip of his wine.
“And my parents absolutely adore you. Honestly, I’m convinced they’ve always thought of you as part of the family.” She paused. Then grimaced. “I sound like such a hypocrite. I’ve been unfair to your father, haven’t I?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. “You’re still in shock. Hell, I’m still in shock.”
“Yeah, but you were so much more welcoming than I was,” she pointed out.
“Heather, he’s my father, not yours. You were only trying to look out for me and, as infuriating as it was, I understand that the tension between you two exists because you care about me,” he said. “But I made my share of mistakes, too. Don’t put all the blame for our strained relationship on
my dad.”
“I guess.” She bit her lower lip. “He’s your father, though. So, even if you didn’t reach out to him for all these years, as the parent he should have been the one to get in touch with you to try to mend things. I wouldn’t expect Finn to try to reach out to Gary.”
“You wouldn’t, but Finn is just a child,” he said. “Anyway, my father was the one who reached out, remember? Sure, it’s taken him years to do it, but he finally did it. That has to count for something.”
“You’re right. If your dad is going to put in the effort, then so am I.” She frowned. “I’m just worried that the differences between you could bring back a lot of pain for you, Simon. I understand that you don’t want to go over the details of that last fight you two had, so I’m not going to pry. It just seems like the fight was extremely painful and personal for you. I can’t help but wonder if you guys argued about the career path you had decided to take. The fight was around the time you had just started college, right?”
Simon might have kept the details of the fight to himself to prevent her from having an even worse opinion of his father, but she was remarkably perceptive. He and his dad had fought about his career and about money, and Dover. “Yeah, the fight was partially about me branching out and leaving home for college in California.”
“Well, if that was the reason, maybe you could invite your dad for a tour of Dover,” she suggested.
“Heather, that’s a brilliant idea,” he said.
She beamed. “It could give you both a chance to talk. And you’d be somewhere you’re comfortable and you’ll have so much to talk about since you love talking about your work. Doing a tour would go a long way in impressing him.”
The more she talked about it, the more he liked the idea. “You could take the tour with us,” he said. “You’ve done so well at Dover in such a short time, I’m sure my dad would love to talk to you about the company.”
“Oh.” She hesitated, her brow furrowing as she thought things over. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t want to intrude while you two catch up and get to know each other.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” he insisted. “Besides, I’m still worried things might get awkward between me and my dad after all these years, so it would be good to have you close.”
“Okay, I’ll come along for the tour,” she said with a nod. “When do you want to invite him to come down to Dover?”
“Next Monday, if he can take time off for a long lunch,” Simon said. “We can do a tour and have lunch together.”
“Don’t forget, Monday is the day a producer from the documentary crew swings by to make an introduction,” she said.
He groaned, remembering that Heather had told him about the introduction a few days earlier. “I had totally forgotten about that. Why is that even necessary? I haven’t actually agreed to do the documentary anyway.”
“I think the producers are trying to charm you into agreeing to do it,” she said. “That’s why they want to meet you. Anyway, it’s nothing formal. It’s just a chat that I’ve made sure won’t last longer than half an hour.”
Simon groaned again. Even when he didn’t actually agree to the board’s ideas, they had a way of badgering him with their strong-arm tactics. “Fine. Just make sure the producers don’t bump into my father. I’d rather not have these producers get a look at my personal life.”
She pursed her lips and cast him a knowing glance. “Even if the producers don’t see your father on Monday, if they go ahead with the documentary they’ll be asking your father questions.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Making nice with the media means letting them get a little glimpse of your personal life. Which means they will definitely want to get details about your childhood from your father.”
Chapter 6
The remainder of the weekend went by, and every moment she spent with Simon was wonderful. By the time they headed back into the city early Monday morning, she was refreshed enough to feel confident about taking on the upcoming week.
His father had agreed to take the tour, plus one of the potential producers of the documentary was going to visit Dover headquarters. After a quick stop at her place to make sure Finn had made it to school with his classmate’s parents, she got back into the car with Simon and they were off to work.
Their morning was uneventful, until it was time for lunch and they headed downstairs to the lobby to meet his father.
Onslow glanced around the gleaming lobby, his blue eyes lighting up as he took in the pristine marble that decorated Dover’s entrance.
“This place is unbelievable,” Onslow said. “Do you own the actual building, son?”
“In a way,” Simon said. “Dover owns the building, and since I am Dover in a way...”
Onslow grinned, his eyes landing on Heather. “It’s good to see you again, Heather.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” She hoped her smile looked genuine, because even though she had agreed to give Simon’s father a chance an uneasy feeling was already tugging at her stomach. “Ready for the tour?”
“You bet.” Onslow followed them into an elevator, and then they walked out until they made it to Simon’s expansive office.
“Can I get you a coffee?” she asked Simon’s dad as they entered the office.
“I’d love some coffee,” Onslow said. “Thank you.”
She walked over to the coffee vending machine that was by the large table in Simon’s office. “What would you like? A latte? Cappuccino?”
“Uh... I don’t know all those fancy words,” Onslow said. “How about a regular coffee?”
“Coming right up,” she said as she busied herself at the vending machine. “What about you, Simon? An espresso, like usual?”
“Yes please, Heather,” Simon replied. “Thank you.”
When she made their drinks, she set them out on the meeting table where Simon and Onslow had taken a seat across from each other. Taking a seat beside Simon, she reached for the cup of hot tea she had made for herself and took a delicate sip.
“How’s the coffee, Onslow?” she asked.
Onslow took a sip of his drink and smiled. “Terrific. Thank you.”
She smiled. “It’s almost lunch time, so after the tour we’ll be able to treat you to a Dover lunch.”
“I read a few years ago that Dover practically serves gourmet meals,” Onslow said. “I’m looking forward to trying one of the company’s famous lunches.”
Heather frowned, realizing that something about his words was nagging at her. “Onslow, I thought you said you hadn’t read anything about Simon until that online piece you read last week.”
“Uh...” Simon’s father paused, his eyes darting around. “I guess the old noggin isn’t what it used to be. Can’t keep my stories straight sometimes. I’m sure I read some things about Simon in the past. Come to think of it, I remember reading an article about the first million dollars Simon ever made.” Onslow puffed out his chest. “I always knew you could make something of yourself, son.”
“Did you? Because I remember some of the things you said to Simon when he was a boy.” She knew she had promised to give Onslow a chance, but she hadn’t promised to pretend she couldn’t see through some of the inconsistent things he was saying. “You used to belittle his intelligence. Once, you told him that his mind was a waste and nobody would hire him to use it.”
“Heather, please.” Simon placed his hand on hers. “You promised.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly filled with regret. Not regret that she had confronted his father. Regret that Simon didn’t seem to want to face the truth. “I did promise. But how can you two have a relationship if you start by lying about the past?”
“Lie is a pretty strong word,” Simon chided.
“Okay.” Heather took a deep breath to steady herself. “I didn’t mean lie. I meant mischaracterize. How can you two have any hope of bu
ilding a solid relationship if you mischaracterize the past? Onslow, you didn’t appreciate Simon’s gifts when he was younger. You made him feel guilty for being smart. Made him feel guilty about accomplishing more than his parents. And I’m sorry, but that just isn’t right.”
A tense silence fell and she nursed the warm cup of tea in her hands. Damn, she really had made a mess of things. But she couldn’t stand to see Onslow paper over the truth.
Onslow sighed. “You’ve got a point.”
“No,” Simon insisted. “Dad, I apologize for Heather’s remark. She promised to give you a chance, but I can see now that promises don’t really matter all that much to her.”
“This is me giving him a chance,” she snapped. “I swore I’d give him a chance and I meant it. I’ll accept him, warts and all. But don’t ask me to accept a pretend version of him or your past. I’m ready to accept the real him. All your father has to be willing to do is come clean and face how he mistreated you in the past. Otherwise, Simon, you’ll realize that neither of us can accept him if he isn’t honest and upfront about who he really was.”
“And what about your past, Heather?” Onslow’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not perfect, and I’m sure you aren’t either.”
“What does that mean?” she demanded as she felt her face flush with something akin to anger.
“I mean, you could have waited for my son to come back from college,” Onslow said. “I remember that last fight that Simon and I had. You came up a lot. Maybe it isn’t Simon’s mother who came between us. Maybe it was you, Heather.”
“What are you talking about?” Her gaze shifted to Simon. “Simon, what does he mean?”
“I’m not bringing that fight up again,” Simon said harshly. “Why did you have to bring it up, Heather?”
“I’m not the one who brought it up,” she insisted. “Your father did.”
“He wouldn’t have brought it up if you hadn’t attacked him,” Simon said.
“Expecting the truth isn’t an attack,” she said, unable to swallow the bitterness in her tone. “He said something that’s obviously not true. If your father had supported you when you were a kid, why would you two have been estranged all these years? Pretending everything was great in the past isn’t going to hold up in the present.”
