by J. S. Scott
He exited the office, letting the door close softly behind him. He glanced at Nina's desk, halting abruptly in front of it.
"You need something, boss?" Her tone was professional, but she had a genuine smile on her face.
He looked over the top of an abundant bouquet of roses that was placed prominently on her desk, frowning at his gray-haired assistant. Had he forgotten her birthday? No. No, he hadn't. Nina's birthday was in September. And his secretary, Marcie, always reminded him. "Nice flowers. What's the occasion?" He asked curiously.
Nina gave him a puzzled look, peering at him over her reading glasses. "Boss, it's February Fourteenth. Valentine's Day. You know...hearts, flowers, romance." The little woman smiled broader. "My Ralph has sent me two dozen red roses every Valentine's Day for thirty-seven years." She sighed. "He's still so romantic." Her voice vibrated with affection and adoration.
Valentine's Day? Yeah, he knew the holiday, he had just never paid any attention when it came and went every year. It was just another day, a twenty-four hour period of time when he saw a lot of Cupids and red hearts, when he chose to notice them, which wasn't very often.
He shot a quick glance at his blonde secretary, her desk situated next to Nina's. "Where are your flowers?"
Marcie paused, turning her head toward him and away from the computer that she had been clicking away on diligently before his question. "Haven't gotten them yet. My hubby will give them to me before we go out to dinner. He always does."
"Uh...is this normal? Dinner? Flowers?" He looked back at Nina with a scowl. Shit, he hadn't planned anything for Kara. She deserved romance, hearts, flowers and whatever else a man did for a woman on a day for lovers.
"It depends. Most couples make their own traditions." His assistant answered, her eyes questioning. "Are you okay?"
Damn it. He didn't know what to do and he hated that feeling. What else was traditional? What else would make a woman happy, feel cherished? Had Kara gotten flowers from her ex? Had he taken her out for dinner?
Setting his briefcase on the floor, he tried to squash the jealousy and possessiveness that were rising up inside of him. It didn't fucking matter what some man had done for her in the past...Simon was determined to do better. She was his woman now. His to protect. His to cherish. He wanted to make her Valentine's Day so memorable that all she could think of was him from this day forward. Except he had no idea how to accomplish his goal.
He leaned over Nina's flowers and told her in a hesitant, low voice. "Kara."
Nina grinned. "She's a gem, boss. A wonderful young woman."
Only one woman could make him say three words that he never thought would come out of his mouth. "I need help." Really, for Kara, the words weren't all that difficult. "I'm not sure what to do. Can you help me, Nina?"
His assistant sprang out of her chair with an enthusiasm and speed that really shouldn't be normal for a woman of her age, motioning vigorously to Marcie to join her. The two of them surrounded him, peppering him with questions.
He should have been embarrassed, but strangely enough, he was not. Simon Hudson, billionaire and co-owner of one of the most powerful corporations in the world, in a huddle with two female employees, listening raptly to every word the women spoke, to every bit of advice they gave.
Sam passed by them, smirking as he made his way to the elevator, obviously able to pick up a part of the conversation even though they were speaking in low, conspiring voices.
Simon shot his brother a one-finger-salute when he saw Sam's mocking expression, barely taking his eyes away from the two women in front of him who seemed to know the answers to all of the mysteries of women. Right now, to him, they were goddesses.
He completely ignored the snicker he heard from Sam as his brother walked away. The bastard. He couldn't wait until the day that his elder brother needed advice.
Turning his attention back to Nina and Marcie, he listened, and learned.
Chapter 4
Kara let out an audible, heartfelt sigh as she sank deeper into Simon's garden bathtub, the hot water and bubbles covering nearly her entire body, leaving only her head bobbing above the water. He had offered her the use of his tub in the master bath any time she wanted it, but she had never taken him up on the offer. She had a perfectly wonderful tub and shower attached to her own room, but it wasn't nearly as elaborate as this one.
Admit it. It isn't the size of the tub. It's the fact that it's his that made you come in here.
Frowning, she grabbed a large loofah sponge from the ledge of the tub and starting scrubbing her arms with enough force to make her skin burn. Damn it. She didn't want to admit that she missed Simon so desperately that she wanted to use the tub he used, breath in his scent that lingered in his bathroom.
Refusing to have sex with him was your brilliant idea.
Yeah, it was. But she was seriously re-thinking that decision. It had felt like the right thing to do at the time. She wanted to be with him knowing that he trusted her completely. Not knowing what had happened to him could cause her to make other mistakes, to hurt him inadvertently. She couldn't stand that thought. She’d hoped he might open up and share his experience with her, let her help him through it.
But she had been dead wrong.
He had distanced himself, pulled away rather than share his internal torment. He hadn't touched her, hadn't kissed her, since she had told him that she couldn't make love with him unless he told her about the incident. What in the hell had happened to him? Had she pushed him too far, too fast? Would it have been better to settle for only what he was able to give?
I could let him tie me to the bed and fuck me senseless. That way, I can't hurt him unintentionally.
She groaned as she stopped scrubbing her arms raw and lifted a leg from the water, resting it on a seat at the edge of tub. God, the thought was tempting. She might be an independent woman, but she had loved his sexual dominance, his take-charge assault to her senses. In some strange way, it aroused her beyond endurance, and he exercised that alpha side of him every single time he touched her. Mixed with his added tenderness and vulnerability that peeked through on occasion, it was an impossible-to-forget lure that sucked her toward him like a moth to a flame.
Simon made her feel beautiful.
He made her feel safe.
God...she loved her primitive, protective, possessive male who had a heart of gold.
Lifting her leg, she ran the sponge over her calf, slowly to her knee and gently across her thigh. Images flashed through her mind, making the sensitive flesh between her legs pulsate with need and her heart ache.
Being bound to Simon's bed, at his mercy, his mouth devouring her.
On the couch, her wrists restrained while he rocked her world.
In the elevator, opening to him, him pummeling her until she screamed.
Three nights ago, holding him as he made her come apart.
Oh hell, he was her every erotic fantasy come to life in stunning, glorious color and there wasn't a thing she didn't love about him.
A lone tear streaked down her cheek as she switched legs and worked on the other one with the sponge.
Three days. It had only been three days and she was already a mess. The lonely yearning for him was already pulverizing her, swallowing her whole. Not only was he her erotic fantasy, he was her complete fantasy. The whole damn package. She had never met a man like him, and probably never would again.
He was sweet, although he would deny it.
He was tender, although he would deny that too.
Kind.
Compassionate.
A freaking genius, a man she learned something from every single day, although she definitely knew he would blow that off too.
Because he was also humble. Simon Hudson didn't ever see himself as someone special. But she saw him as he was; a man to grab hold of and never let go.
A second tear flowed down her other cheek as her heart crumbled.
She didn't want to go back to her life be
fore Simon. And not because she cared about being poor. She had always lived in poverty and had never planned on being anything other than comfortable. Secure. Money didn't buy happiness, and having material things couldn't even come close to competing with having love, having that one special person who could make her complete, whole. What good were things and money if a person wasn't emotionally fulfilled, happy with their accomplishments, no matter how big or how small?
I'd feel exactly the same way about Simon even if he wasn't wealthy. As long as he was happy.
Granted, Simon was too intelligent, too ambitious not to be successful. But there were times when she wished he wasn't quite so wealthy, didn't work so hard. But his intelligence, his drive to make his products the very best, were parts of him that she loved. She accepted the whole package, freaking adored the sexy, masculine, quirky bundle of testosterone that made him uniquely...Simon.
Taking a seat on a high ledge of the tub, she closed her eyes as she ran the loofah up her stomach slowly, letting her images of Simon take control of her mind, the elusive smell of him on the loofah assailing every one of her senses.
Kara bit her lip as the slightly abrasive loofah slid over her breasts, teasing her swollen, hard nipples. She imagined Simon biting them gently, swirling his tongue over the tips, her erotic thoughts and arousal making her let herself go. Giving in to the pounding demands of her body, she opened her thighs and allowed her other hand to slide up her slippery thigh and begin a decadent indulgence, a fantasy.
If she couldn't be with Simon in reality, at least she would be with him in her mind.
*****
Kara has no reason to stay.
Simon's gut clenched as he knocked on the door of Kara's room, waiting for her to answer. Hoffman had called him less than an hour ago, informing him that the police had apprehended the second offender, the other bastard who had tried to abduct Kara.
Cursing under his breath, he pushed the door open, finding her bedroom empty. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her cell phone and her backpack sitting on her bed. She was home, still somewhere in the condo. She'd never leave without her pack.
Does she know? Had Detective Harris called her? Knowing very well that he shouldn't, he picked up her phone, thumbing through her missed calls. There was only one that was recent. It had occurred thirty minutes earlier, and it was from Harris. There was a voice mail, but he drew the line at listening to her messages. He already knew what the message was about. She was safe, the men who had attacked her both locked up.
The reason for her being here with him...gone.
He had to tell her. He might be a selfish bastard, but he wouldn't let Kara spend another minute fearing that someone was on the loose, trying to kill her.
As far as he knew, she hadn't suffered another nightmare. God knew that he listened closely every night, left his bedroom door open in case she needed him. She hadn't.
Dropping her phone back on the bed, he yanked at his tie, undoing the knot completely, leaving the material to drape around his neck. He had discarded his jacket in the kitchen a few minutes earlier when he had arrived home. Uncertainty settled over him like a dark cloud as he exited her bedroom. Would she stay even though the immediate threat to her was gone? And if she wanted to leave, how in the hell could he ever let her go?
Not happening. She's mine, damn it!
Gritting his teeth, his emotions bouncing between determination and fear, he went in search of her. Most likely, she was in the computer lab. His lips curved upward, wondering if she would badger him for clues in her pursuit of mastering Myth World II. She played his game exclusively, declaring that the other games weren't as challenging, alternately praising him for being a genius and nagging him for tips. He knew she didn't really want him to tell her, to spoil the challenge of the game. Hell, if she had really wanted to know, if she had just once turned those baby blue eyes in his direction with a questioning glance, he would have spilled every damn secret she wanted to know about the game and probably some she had never even thought about yet.
He checked the lab, but she wasn't there. She had to be in the gym. Hesitating as he headed in that direction, he started to unbutton his shirt, heading toward his bedroom. He wanted to get out of this irritating, stiff shirt and pants, throw on some workout clothes and pump iron until his body relaxed. How in the hell he could relax when he saw Kara in her skimpy exercise clothing he didn't know, but he wanted to be with her, ached to see her.
He wouldn't blame her if she turned on her heel and left the minute he walked into the room, but he hoped she didn't. Honestly, he would deserve it. The last three days had been tense, and he had been a complete bastard to her, answering her cheerful questions with one-word, terse answers, practically ignoring her presence when she was in the room with him. Slowly, she had become as withdrawn as he was, speaking only when they had to communicate. Still friendly, but distant.
As he made his way down the hall to his room, he promised himself that he would resolve that issue. He couldn't take it anymore. Sam was right -- for once! He needed Kara, and feeling her move further and further away from him was like cutting off a limb. Fuck! It was more like cutting out his heart with a dull knife.
Ripping the tie from his neck, he dropped it on his bed and finished unbuttoning his shirt. He had just picked both of them up to put in his hamper when he heard her.
Heart pounding, his head tilted to listen. He picked up a whimper, a feminine moan, and then...his name.
"Simon."
The choked, urgent longing in her husky, seductive voice sent shivers down his spine. The garments in his hand dropped to the floor unnoticed. He moved toward the needy sounds, stopping at the door to the master bath. He could no more turn away from that door than he could stop breathing. The door was closed, but it wasn't latched. In a daze, he pushed the door open slowly, light steam greeting him as he silently took a step and pushed the door wide open.
Holy Christ!
His heart paused, breathing halted, as his hungry eyes landed on Kara. She was spread out on a high ledge in the tub, above the mass of bubbles, water licking her ankles, caressing her thighs, lost in erotic ecstasy. Her thighs were spread wide, exposing the mouth-watering, glistening flesh between her thighs. Head thrown back, eyes closed, she wasn't aware of him watching her, mesmerized by the hand between her legs. Her luscious breasts bounced as her hips rose up and down in the water, meeting the furiously moving fingers that were teasing her clit.
He struggled for air, his cock hard enough to split diamonds. Biting back a groan, he knew he should leave her to her privacy, but he couldn't. It wasn't possible. Nothing less than the whole world ending in a cataclysmic catastrophe was ripping him away from one of the most erotic, beautiful things he had ever seen.
"Simon."
She was fantasizing about him. Imagining him. He wanted desperately to know what he was doing to her in her imagination. Probably exactly what he wanted to be doing right now. Burying his head between those silken thighs, fucking her tight channel with his fingers as he pleasured her clit with his mouth and tongue.
He stripped off his pants and briefs, his eyes never leaving her writhing body as he dropped them silently to the floor, stepping away from them. Part of him wanted to approach her, worship that begging, swollen pink flesh between her thighs, give some attention to those hard, pebbled nipples. But he couldn't move. He was swept up into her arousal, a sight so carnal that it had him palming his engorged cock, stepping closer to the tub.
A low, throaty groan that he couldn't hold back startled her. Her head jerked up, her eyes full of lust and sultry need.
"Don't stop. Please. I need to watch you come." His voice was graveled, raspy with desire and longing.
Her hand quit moving, but she left it on her pussy. "I'm sorry, Simon. I--"
"Make yourself come, Kara. Keep going. Think about me. There's nothing more that I want in this world than to watch you pleasure yourself. It's beautiful." She didn't know how b
eautiful she looked, skin flushed, wanton, abandoned.
Her eyes roamed his body, hesitating, narrowing in on the cock that he held tightly in his grasp. "No. You're beautiful, Simon. The most beautiful man I've ever seen."
He didn't think it was possible to get more aroused. But her low, come-fuck-me voice nearly sent him over the edge, the fact that she wanted him almost his undoing.
Their eyes locked, an invisible thread keeping them focused on each other. He groaned as her hand moved, her eyes growing steamier as he starting pumping his cock.
They watched each other with naked, unbridled passion. She became wild, uninhibited as she licked her lips, watching him jerk on his ready-to-explode cock.
Rivulets of sweats poured down his face as she whispered his name between jerky pants and erotic moans as they stayed connected, completely lost in a web of desire so fierce that he could barely remain standing.
"That's right, baby. Bring yourself off," he demanded as he fisted himself harder, the pure pleasure of feasting his eyes on her unrestrained lust making his balls tighten, the pressure inside of him building.
Tendrils of dark silky hair had escaped the clip holding her mane back and they framed her face, brushed over her shoulders. He was intoxicated, bewitched, enthralled with the feast for his eyes spread out in front him.
Moving her fingers from her clit, Kara pushed two fingers into her tight channel, filling herself, moving them in and out with strong, deep strokes. She gasped every time her fingers slammed into her opening, increasingly deep, faster. Simon increased his pace, keeping time with her.
"Make yourself come for me," he demanded, knowing he couldn't keep this up much longer, however much he'd like to watch her like this forever.
Her fingers moved back to her clit, gliding easily along the swollen nub. Panting, she threw her head back with a long, throaty moan.
She climaxed hard, moaning his name, her back arching, her whole body quivering.
Not able to hold back another second, Simon exploded, putting his hand in front of his cock to capture the stream of hot fluid that probably would have hit the damn wall had he not stopped it.
