Without Apology

by Aubrey Bondurant

  He’d gone from red to an interesting shade of what I’d callf ‘angry red.’ Without another word, he spun on his heel, jerked open my door, and strode out of my office.

  Megan came in a few seconds after.

  “Holy shit, what was that about?”

  I sighed, feeling proud about how I’d stood up for myself. “It was a pissing contest. I think I won. For now.”

  She shut my door and took a seat. “God, I’m so happy for you. Please tell me you are, too. I mean, I know I pressured you and really wanted you to apply, but I hope you are glad you got it.”

  “I am.” At least I was happy now. Any fears I had over the future would simply need to take a break until they came to fruition. I needed to remember that, at the end of the day, if the job became too much, I could always find a new one. But I wouldn’t sit here doubting myself one moment longer. Evidently, my little confrontation had demonstrated just how protective I was of my new role. It was mine, and I’d earned it. I’d make damned sure I did it well.

  “Good.” She sighed in relief. “What will you do about Jeff?”

  “As far as him having sour grapes, nothing. However, his management style is about to change. He starts treating his people better and doing more, or he’s out.” I would do what my predecessor had failed to.

  “God, you’re already talking like a CFO. Did you call your sister? You going out to celebrate?”

  “Thank you. And I didn’t yet. She has soccer practice, piano, and homework on a Monday night. But I’m sure we’ll do something over the weekend.” I hadn’t wanted to make my sister feel pressured. Balancing three girls during a school week was hard enough.

  “I could call Doug and tell him I’ll be late if you want to go out tonight.”

  I waved her off. Mondays were tough for anyone to try to go out, especially on short notice. “Honestly, I simply want to go home, let it sink in, and take a long bath.” Now that I’d said the words out loud, nothing sounded better.

  She patted my hand in a friendly gesture. “I’ll let you go then. Congrats, and we have such a raincheck coming once this kid gets here. It’ll be drinks all around.”

  “You got it.” After she left, I packed up my things. It was tempting to see if Simon wanted to come by tonight, but oddly, I found myself wanting him to do that on his own and not because I’d asked him.

  ***

  I’d been in the tub only a few minutes when the knock on the door came. I tried to remember if I’d left the front door unlocked. It was tempting to yell ‘come in,’ but if the person didn’t happen to be Simon, it could turn out to be awkward, not to mention dangerous. I stepped out of the hot water, threw on my robe, and padded out to the door. Smiling, I opened it to him holding a bottle of champagne.

  His gaze immediately raked down my body. “I should’ve called.”

  Still smiling, I took the bottle and allowed him to step inside. “Yes, because then instead of me getting out of my tub, you’d already be in there with me.” My gaze fell on the label. “Is this the same champagne you bought when we met?”

  “Technically, you bought it for me, but yes. Laverne let me buy my own bottle this time around.”

  I recollected the day we’d met in the checkout line. “Wait. I can’t believe this is just now dawning on me. Was the bottle for George that night? Is he who you were meeting?” It explained why Simon had been in my home town and had stopped to get something.

  He laughed. “It was indeed. Although now I know he probably would’ve preferred whiskey.”

  Taking his hand, I led him to my kitchen where my whisky sat on the counter.

  He whistled at the Macallan. “From George?”

  “Yep.”

  “Congratulations. I didn’t know if you’d be out celebrating tonight. I sent you a text.”

  “Thank you. I was in the tub, and my phone is somewhere still in my purse.”

  He pulled me to him, running his hands down to my ass. “We shouldn’t let the water get cold.”

  His scent was intoxicating. My arms snaked around his waist, and my fingers rubbed beneath his suit jacket. “Do you want to join me?”

  “How about I pour the champagne first and meet you in there?”

  I kissed him briefly, pulling away with reluctance and giving what I hoped was a seductive look over my shoulder as I walked back toward the bathroom.

  After sinking back down into the water and closing my eyes with bliss, I sensed his presence. My gaze found him standing a foot away, staring at me with heat in his eyes.

  “You’re absolutely stunning.” He set the two flutes of bubbly on the bathroom countertop and took off his jacket, laying it to the side.

  “Thank you.” I watched while he undid his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves to his elbow. I’d never been attracted to forearms as much as I was in this moment.

  He knelt down at the head of the tub and took my loofa from the side. “Slide up so I can wash your back.” His voice was husky, thick with desire.

  I scooted up a few inches, bringing my knees to my chest and sighing with pleasure once he brought the loofa to my back. He dipped it into the water and then made long strokes up and down.

  “There’s room for you to join me,” I offered. For the first time, I appreciated the large size of my soaking tub.

  He stopped sponging me, stood up, and began losing his clothes, one article at a time.

  I wouldn’t have traded the impromptu strip show for anything. Most of the time, we were so frantic I didn’t take the time to soak in his beauty. ‘Beauty’ was not normally a word I associated with a man, but both his body and movements of grace were just that. Even more so now, when all of this felt different. Slower. More intense, as his eyes didn’t leave mine.

  I swallowed hard when his boxers finally came off, revealing his impressive cock obviously ready to go. Scooting up further, I allowed enough room for him to step in behind me.

  “Stand up for a moment, so you can sit between my legs.”

  Once we were situated with him at my back and me securely in front of him between his muscular thighs, he resumed the washing. He used gentle motions with one hand while the other reached around and toyed with my breast.

  “At the risk of bringing up work near the bedroom, can I ask if you’re happy you got the promotion?”

  “Yes. And yes.” In this case, I found myself wanting to share my day with him.

  “Everyone in the conference room was ecstatic to hear the news. You’re definitely beloved by your staff.”

  “Ha. Not everyone. Jeff came to my office tonight and tried to get under my skin.”

  I felt Simon tense behind me.

  “What did he say?”

  “He implied I shouldn’t take the job if I ever wanted to settle down. I made it clear to him that if anyone hopes I fail, that person can find themselves a new job. I will not tolerate disrespect or the undermining of my authority. His taunt did serve a good purpose, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It showed me how protective I am of my new title. I can fear what the increased responsibility will mean and fret about it. Or I can simply cross that bridge when I get to it. I may worry what this position will mean once I start a family and have to try to balance it all, but I could be years away from that situation.”

  I noticed his strokes stopped. “You definitely want kids?”

  I was unapologetic about my response, though I hoped he didn’t share Jeff’s view that I shouldn’t take the job because, God forbid, I might someday procreate. “Yes. At some point. Why? Are you rethinking me being the best candidate for CFO?”

  “Of course not. One has absolutely nothing to do with the other. You earned this position. Whether you want to be a mum or not has no bearing on how well you do your job. In fact, I’d argue that, being the type of person you are, motherhood would only give you more of a foundation in how you connect to people. The way you value the work/life balance will permeate the culture of the offic
e. Assholes like Tom and Jeff can think what they want, but it’s an archaic, misogynistic view that women can’t hold positions once dominated by men. In fact, I’d argue their view makes the assumption that no man in the same job should put his family first. That because he’s a man, he wouldn’t want to have an active involvement and be an equal partner in the parenting of the children.”

  “Wow. That’s unexpected.”

  “I would champion the best candidate regardless of their sex. If anything, I only wish my mother had been strong enough to leave my father sooner. Maybe if she’d had some sort of equality or felt it was her right to stand up to a man, she would have.”

  His utter conviction floored me. “I’m sorry for assuming any different. Your passion on the subject simply took me off guard.” In an effort to steer the conversation to calmer waters, and because I was curious, I had to ask, “How about you? Do you picture kids in your future?”

  He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he moved his hands over my breasts and onto my stomach in sensual circles. “I used to say no. Absolutely not. Given the way I grew up, I’m not sure I’d be a great candidate for fatherhood.”

  It hurt me to think he’d question his own abilities because of his father’s actions. “You would never do what your father did. Whether you choose to become a dad someday or not, I hope you believe that.”

  There was a pang in my chest to think of him years from now with a little dark-haired, blue-eyed boy. I might have been careful not to entertain the thought of me having such a future with him, but envisioning him having it with someone else left me cold.

  “I do, but hearing someone else also believes it helps.”

  We were both silent, lost in our thoughts, with only the sound of his hands running down my front and the water lapping, until his voice broke in.

  “I was thinking about taking time off next week. Everything should close by Friday with the purchase.”

  “Oh. Did you not want to come to my sister’s house on Friday, then?” Maybe he was trying to leave early.

  “Of course I do. This is coming out all wrong. What I meant to ask is if you wanted to take a holiday with me?”

  I sighed. “You know I don’t fly.”

  “I don’t remember mentioning a plane. In fact, we don’t have to leave here. Or we can drive somewhere. Take Cooper.”

  My instant joy at the idea of getting more time with him was replaced with the fear I’d only fall for him harder. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “You’re not sure if it’s a good idea to go away somewhere together for a week? No work, breakfast in bed, anywhere you choose to drive to?”

  He wasn’t exactly making this easy as those things sounded fabulous. “The thing is, I thought you were leaving on Saturday.”

  “So, what? You already have a date or something?” His words held a measure of tension in them.

  “Of course not.”

  “What am I missing, then?”

  I decided to explain face to face. Turning around didn’t prove as easy as I’d thought, though. I ended up plopping down in his lap. He was fighting a smirk at my clumsiness while I tried to think of the right words.

  “You want the truth at the risk of freaking you out?”

  He didn’t bother to hold back the smile now, brushing my cheek with a finger. “How do I say this Texas-style? Give it to me straight, no sugar coating.”

  I decided to go for it. At least then I could say I’d put it out there. “It’s just that, come Saturday, it’ll be tough enough to watch you walk away. Think of it as the expiration of my capacity to hold in my feelings. If we go past that day, there’s bound to be an explosion of them, which may not be pretty.”

  He appeared thoroughly perplexed. “I’m afraid you lost me.”

  Okay. So metaphors weren’t going to work. Time to be blunt. “I’m already at the point it’s bound to hurt when you leave on Saturday. Prolonging this thing with another week will only make it worse.”

  “Meaning you’re falling for me?” His words were quiet and measured. I wondered if they came from panic or a need to spell it out further.

  I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  He kept his intense gaze on mine. “What if I don’t want to walk away this week or next?”

  Now it was my turn to be confused. “What does that mean?”

  His hands framed my face while his eyes locked on mine. “It means I’m falling for you, too.”

  “You are?”

  He took my lips in the briefest of kisses. “Yes.”

  “But you have to leave—”

  “No. I don’t. There’d still be some travel, but I’ll figure out the logistics. That is, if you’re on board with continuing this?”

  “I want to, but—”

  “No buts. I’m committed to doing this if you are.”

  Could he balance both work and a relationship? Or more importantly, was I able to give him the opportunity to prove he could?

  “Your work is demanding.” My words were lost once he dipped his head and took one of my nipples between his teeth.

  “Give me a chance to prove it to you. Give us an opportunity. We’ll start with dinner at your sister’s on Friday and then a holiday next week. Okay?”

  As if I could say no to him. His sincerity in wanting to give it a try was too hard to ignore. “Okay. Then, yes.”

  He pulled back, his expression revealing his excitement. “You’ll give this a go?”

  “Yes. Definitely. Maybe we could drive down to Austin for a few days. It’s a fun city.”

  “Brilliant. It’ll be my first full week off.”

  “I’ll plan out all of the things to do during the day. Then one of the nights we’ll go country dancing.”

  He shook his head. “I may need proper incentive to listen to country music.”

  “Mm. I bet I can think of some proper incentive. Matter of fact, I can give you a little preview now.” I rubbed my center against him, feeling him hard.

  His hands gripped my ass, increasing the friction. “I need to be inside of you.”

  “I need that, too.” He was close. All I needed to do was line him up. Ah, he slowed me down and then lifted me up slightly so he could position me over him.

  “Peyton, I’m not wearing a condom,” he gritted out.

  “Is that a we should get out of the tub to get one or a we should have a conversation about not using one sentence?”

  “Are you on the Pill?”

  “Yes. I get the shot.” I realized we probably shouldn’t be having this conversation while he was already burying himself inch by inch inside of me.

  “I’m clean. I’ve never not used them.”

  “I’m clean, too.” I gasped when he thrust up while pulling me down onto him.

  We both groaned with the fullness. He was so deep inside of me with his stare fixed on mine. The level of intimacy was almost too much as, bare for the first time, we watched one another as I started to ride him. I closed my eyes, so overcome with pleasure, but he had another demand.

  “Keep them open. Look at me.”

  “God, Simon, I—”

  I lost my words as the climax started to roll over me. His lips crashed down on mine. The kiss was savage. Not unlike our first time, we were both frantic and out of control. Past the edge of gentle into a quiet desperation that threatened to consume us both.

  My hips were moving faster. Even as I started to come down from my first orgasm, another followed on its heels, building me back up. His teeth bit into my bottom lip while my nails dug into his shoulders.

  He buried his hands in my hair, muttering expletives while holding me in place so he could thrust up with his climax, releasing it deep inside of me. We stayed connected, both of us steadying our breathing. My face was tucked into his neck, his hands rubbed down my back.

  I leaned back, meeting his gaze. “That was incredible.”

  He took my lips in a gentle kiss. “Yes, it was.”

  With
the water getting cold, I gave him one last kiss and stood up. I stepped out carefully as we’d made quite the mess with spillover water on the floor. “I’m jumping in the shower. Want to join?”

  He stood up. “You go ahead and start. I’m going to clean up this mess and then, if you haven’t eaten, order dinner for us both.”

  I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. While still naked, he was already attempting to sop up the water from the floor. The image was both sexy and strange. “You really can’t stand a mess, can you?”

  He dropped the towels and then pulled me to him. “Depends on how it was made.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Simon

  I’d slid out of Peyton’s warm bed about four o’clock in the morning and returned to my corporate housing flat already missing her. Last night had confirmed that her feelings had intensified the same way mine had. Was it possible to fall in love in a few short weeks? I was starting to believe it was.

  I needed to have a conversation with Phillip about my next assignment, not to mention about taking holiday time next week. Truth was, I didn’t need to remain on site the entire time during these transactions. In the future, I could get them started, conduct interviews during a few days, and then fly home. Even if I was in the middle of a job, I could travel home on weekends. At least, that was my short-term plan for balancing both work and a relationship.

  But long-term she wanted marriage and family. Two things about which I’d never entertained a thought until now. The question was whether I could give her what she needed. She had a father who’d spent most of his hours working, and she wouldn’t settle for a husband who acted the same. Nor would I want to be an absentee husband or father. No way. I wanted movie night, family barbeques, and even the mess which inevitably came with them.

  I’d cross that bridge when we came to it, but knowing I wanted more fueled my desire to set expectations.

  I’d gone from a man whose sole joy was moving onto the next city to someone who wanted to figure out how I could have it all. But I was determined to make this work. Since I seldom didn’t get what I wanted, I wouldn’t dwell on the doubts.