by Jen Doyle
Actually, no. That was exactly why.
Because he no longer wanted it to go away, but he still had to. He just hoped the tenor of the conversation would be entirely different than originally planned.
Simon sat back in his chair while conversation continued on around him about the technicalities of annulment vs. divorce—a conversation between Nicki, possibly still his legal wife, and Drew, an attorney who would no doubt thrill at the opportunity this potential lack of annulment presented—and he almost laughed at the irony of it all.
He resisted the urge to drop his head down to the table. He’d never been so completely at a loss as to what to do next. By the time they’d reached the end of the evening, however, he knew he couldn’t go another day without telling her, even if that meant she’d never speak to him again. Except in court when she was suing him for everything he owned.
Oh, how, he hoped she could somehow find her way to forgive him.
After saying their good-byes to the others, Simon walked her to her car. To the passenger side.
She stopped short, her eyes traveling over to where Jeremy stood by the Rover before coming back to Simon. Holding out her hand for the keys, she said, “I can take it from here.”
He opened the door for her, nearly groaned as she came in closer. The urge to touch her—to take her face in his hands and kiss her again—was so overwhelming he had to fight to breathe over the roar in his ears.
But he wasn’t going to touch her. He couldn’t. He absolutely needed to tell her the truth and then they could go from there.
“I know you can,” he said. And then he gave in just a little bit, ducking his head down close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. “I would rather you didn’t, however.”
“Oh,” was all she said. Her breaths came fast and shallow as her gaze caught his and neither of them could quite look away.
He found himself leaning in closer; brushing a stand of her hair off her face. Running the tips of his fingers over her skin.
“Would you mind terribly if I drove you home?”
She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. When she bit her bottom lip, it took everything in Simon’s power not to move in and sooth it with his tongue. And then, to his deepest surprise, she said, “Okay.”
He blinked. “Okay?”
He had to make sure he had heard her right.
This time she didn’t hesitate. With a smile and nod, she repeated, “Okay.”
After a deep breath, Simon closed the door for her, went around the front of the car and got in.
14
Nicki couldn’t breathe. It was impossible to deny that she knew exactly what this meant. Exactly what he wanted to do to her.
What she wanted him to do.
Although he’d never been to her house before—she’d always made sure to meet him at his hotel—he clearly knew where she lived. He turned out of Alejandro’s driveway and headed up the road, his lips set in too grim of a line to allow her to hope that the next few hours would be purely about excellent sex.
Unable to keep herself still, she readjusted her seatbelt. Knowing she was going to have him tonight—because she mostly didn’t care what her ulterior motives were at the moment—she needed to make one last gasping effort to strengthen what was left of the wall around her heart. “Why didn’t you just come out and tell me why you were leaving that night?”
“I thought that if I didn’t mention anything about the money, you wouldn’t know how much my family had.” He even smiled, albeit bitterly. “I didn’t want it to come between us.”
That almost made her laugh. “You gave me a diamond that was practically the size of a golf ball. And you were staying in the Emperor Suite. Did you think I didn’t have a clue?”
There was a beat of silence as he just stared at the road ahead. “I wanted it not to matter. Not that soon.” And then, with his head turned away, “I wanted to believe you loved me for me.”
Yep. She was done. The wall disintegrated into a thousand tiny pieces and blew away.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she almost took off her seatbelt and threw her arms around him right there. Of course, that would mean he’d drive off the road and they would plummet to their deaths, so she held herself back. Thank goodness her house was only five minutes away.
By the time he pulled into her driveway, she was practically buzzing. With anger for anyone who would have made him feel that way, with complete and utter sorrow he hadn’t known—and with anticipation because she was about to show him exactly how much he meant to her.
The moment Simon pulled to a stop in front of her house, she snapped her seatbelt off and jumped out of the car. He looked perplexed as she came around to his side just as he was getting out.
“What...?” He closed the door behind him, just before she pushed him back against it. His legs went to either side of her as his hands went to her hips.
Oh, Lord, that felt good.
She had a point to make, however, and this was not the time to be distracted.
“I loved you for you.” She jabbed him in the chest. “If you’d told me what that call was about I would’ve told you the hell with it. We could’ve figured it out.”
He was clearly trying not to laugh in astonishment. “It’s a billion pounds. With a ‘B.’”
Well, okay, so maybe he could’ve figured out how to keep just a smidge. That wasn’t the point, though. “You do have a job, don’t you? You earn a paycheck? I’m guessing it’s a pretty hefty one. I think you would’ve survived.”
He narrowed his eyes. “When I met you, all I knew how to do was surf and drink.”
With her body right up against his, she couldn’t help but think back to his other skills. “That wasn’t all you could do. You did other things quite well.” Presumably he still could.
Finally—finally—he smiled. “Yes. I guess that’s true.” His voice became raspier as he spoke, and she felt him grow hard against her. She couldn’t help but press into him, her breath catching as his hands splayed over her waist. “And you are so very inspiring.”
A soft moan escaped from her throat. “Why haven’t you left yet?” Oh, God, he smelled so good. And how could his hair be so amazingly soft when the rest of him was so incredibly hard. “Why are you still here in Santa Christa?”
He started to walk her backwards towards the house, his hands running up her torso and over her breasts. He stopped their progress for a moment, tilting her head to the side as he bent down to kiss her collarbone. Everything inside of her was melting as he started walking her backwards again.
He still hadn’t answered and she wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t want to or because he was kissing her. Except, well, then he wasn’t kissing her. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, looking as if he were trying to decide whether to answer her or not. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then came back up. “Because I like being with you. And when I go back, I won’t be.”
Reaching back for the doorknob, she fumbled for her keys before remembering he had them. His eyes twinkled as he pressed her up against the door. “In my front pocket.”
Well, that was a no brainer. Not even pretending to go for his pocket first, she put her hand down between them. Ran her hand down and then back up the length of him, everything beginning to throb as he braced his hand hard on the door right next to her head. “Sodding hell,” he murmured. Trapping her hand between them with his hips, he groaned her name. They stayed like that for a minute, before he abruptly pulled back and got the keys himself. His movements were jerky as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
She was trying not to pant. She thought that should maybe feel pathetic and yet she didn’t give a damn. She grasped the edge of the table behind her, afraid her heart might pound its way out of her chest. “Did you really love me? Do you still love me now?”
That one stopped him cold, and although her timing probably could have been better, she wasn’t sorry she’d asked. It wasn’t a deal
breaker; hell, no. They were having sex tonight—imminently, in fact—regardless of how he answered. She just wanted to know.
It took him longer to answer this time. When he did, the look on his face nearly broke her heart. And not for herself. “Yes,” he said. “I did.” He looked down at the floor for a few seconds before bringing his gaze back up to hers. “And I’m afraid that, yes, I still do.” He smiled sadly. “I’m not sure what to do with that.”
Hoisting herself up to the table, she took hold of his waistband and pulled him to her. “I do,” she whispered as she began to push his shirt up over his chest. She almost sighed at the smooth skin underneath, at the colorful tattoo that came down over his shoulder to his chest, at the way his muscles twitched when she ran her fingers over them.
“Nicki.” He tipped up her chin. Bent down to kiss her, a light brush of his lips at first, followed immediately by an almost feral kiss with the back of her head in his tight grasp, leaving her completely at his whim.
Everything around them sparked. The air surrounding them crackled. She could feel his heart pounding—against her cheek as she rested her head on his chest; under her tongue as she licked right up along the edge of his tattoo.
But as she went to undo the button of his pants, he grabbed her by the wrist. “There’s something you need to know.” From the way he was looking at her she could tell she wasn’t going to like it.
“No, I don’t,” she quickly said. Not right now, at least. Was he dying? Was she? Did he have to kill her after sleeping with her because his all-powerful mother declared it so? “Tell me tomorrow.”
His eyes darkened and not in a good way. She pulled her shirt up over her head. Leaned back on her elbows and thrust her chest up a little so he could look his fill.
“Damn it, Nicki,” he said gruffly, but he was already tracing a line from her jaw to her neck and down between her breasts. He bent down and placed his mouth over the silk of her bra, his tongue teasing her nipple while he pulled the cup down on the other side. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it up around his waist, palmed her ass and brought her right up against him, hard. Was it sad she almost came right then? She was already beginning to see stars as he picked her up and carried her to her room.
She was whimpering by the time her back hit the mattress. Begging as he pulled her skirt and panties down over her legs. Nearly sobbing when he knelt down beside her bed, put his mouth to her and drank her in. It was every bit as good as she remembered; better than anyone before or since. And that was before he came up between her legs, condom already in place, hard and hot in the exact place she needed him to be. Knowing there were tears streaming down her face—mostly just a physical release, but maybe not entirely—she almost didn’t care as she reached for him and pulled him down into a kiss. She needed this. She needed him.
She wanted him back in her life.
He brought her knee up alongside his hip, and propped himself over her as he entered her so freaking slowly she was afraid she might die out of desperation. It had been so long—so long—since she’d felt like this.
“Faster,” she urged.
He smiled and pushed her leg out to the side. “No.”
A shiver ran through her as she brought her hips up to meet his. A tremor as he took hold and kept her exactly where she was. By the time he was fully seated inside her, she was greedily clawing at his back and with his first thrust she was gasping his name, her breath skittering. She loved every moment of him being inside her and didn’t want it to end.
But none of it came even halfway close to the reverence with which he looked at her as she came. She tightened her arms around him as he reached his own climax; cradled him with her body as his movements slowed. It was as if she alone could bring him to this height, and as if only she had the power to bring him back down.
And she held on as tightly as she could because she knew she’d never feel anything like this again.
15
Simon wanted to stay awake. He wanted to imprint every single moment of tonight in his memory. He felt greedy as sin, but he couldn’t quite let go of her, and there was something eminently pleasing about the way she curled up into him even long after she’d drifted off.
But he must have fallen asleep at some point, because one moment he was in a Nicki-infused heaven of a dream and then the next he was being rudely interrupted by the unholy noise of someone banging on the door.
Sitting up in the bed, Nicki pulled the sheet up over her chest, the moonlight catching the dazed look in her eyes. “What…?”
As a new round of knocking commenced, this one even more urgent, Simon could hear his mobile buzzing. He grabbed his trousers off the floor and pulled the phone out of the pocket. Jeremy, of course.
SOS. Mommy Dearest is incoming.
‘Mommy Dearest’ being Jeremy’s nickname for Simon’s mother. This had to be a joke. Jeremy didn’t joke, however. Not like that.
Simon hoped to God that ‘incoming’ meant she’d just arrived in Santa Christa. That Jeremy was pounding on the door in order to get Simon to wake up.
But of course, Nicki had no idea about any of this. It hadn’t even occurred to him to warn her. Before he could yank his trousers on over his hips, she was shrugging on a shirt—Simon’s shirt, in fact—and was already on her way out of the bedroom, muttering, “What on earth…?”
“Wait… Nicki…”
Jesus. He tripped over his goddamn shoes.
One of the many downsides about living in a house without 52 rooms was that it took Nicki no time at all to cross the living room. She was already opening the front door by the time Simon got to the hallway, and taking several steps back as Jeremy burst in.
“Are you crazy?” he practically yelled at Nicki, jabbing the air as he pointed at her. “Do you think you should, I don’t know, button your shirt before you answer the door?”
Although Simon very much wished Nicki had chosen, say, an oversized jumper in which to answer the door, the only reason she was at the door in the first place was because Jeremy was pounding on it. What did he expect? “Don’t talk to her like that.”
His eyes flashing, Jeremy glared at Simon and then back at Nicki. “You need to cover up. Now.”
Except just as Jeremy was finishing what he was saying, someone came up behind him and he instinctively put himself between Nicki and the door. Which left Simon wide open.
And holy fuck, his mother was there, complete with a three-man security detail of her own, her driver and her assistant. Who was snapping photos, trying to get a good angle of Jeremy and Nicki, no doubt to hold in reserve for a Showgirl Shags Bodyguard Under Simon’s Nose! exclusive if nothing else worked. “Are you serious?”
Unbelievable. His mother was tiny and looked fragile enough to sometimes be compared to a porcelain doll, proving how little the outside world knew about who she truly was. Yet even Simon was entirely taken by surprise when she came directly up to him, hauled her hand back, and slapped him.
Everything came to a standstill. And for a few seconds, nothing else happened.
Jeremy clearly had no idea what to do. He took the slightest step forward but his recent experiences with Santa Christa’s elderly paparazzi population hadn’t hardened him to going after an older woman, no matter how bloody awful she was. Even Simon, whose instinct was to grab her before she did it again, couldn’t quite move. They all just stood there in stunned silence.
Then Nicki came flying out from around Jeremy, her target clearly Simon’s mother.
Jeremy just barely managed to pull her back before she reached the other woman, his eyes sending a clear signal to the other security men to back the fuck off.
“This is her? This is the one?” Simon’s mother asked, waving her hand dismissively at Nicki. Who was now entirely buttoned up, thank goodness.
Seeing Nicki standing there, her chest still heaving as she went on the attack for him, was unlike anything he’d ever known. No one had ever done that before. No one who hadn’t bee
n paid at least.
No, make that, no one, although in this case Jeremy could certainly be forgiven.
I love you, he wanted to tell Nicki. I always have and I always will.
Simon put himself directly in front of his mother so that Nicki’s exposure to her was as limited as it could be in this Godforsaken situation.
“Did you tell her?” his mother said. “This doesn’t look like ‘handling’ the situation.”
He ignored the sudden chill he felt in the air, all of it coming from where Nicki stood, directly behind him. He had to. He could only hope he’d figure out a way to explain it all in a way she’d find acceptable.
But first he needed his mother gone. “Why are you here?” There was no use getting into an argument with her.
She straightened out her blouse and smoothed over her hair. She hated to appear out of control and this had clearly not been her best moment. “Because you were supposed to take care of this,” she seethed. “And you clearly haven’t yet managed it.” She stepped to the side, glancing at Nicki. “I suggest you start by telling her you’re married. I’m sure you can take it from there.”
Having dropped that delightful little bomb, she gave a curt nod towards Jeremy, turned on her heel and walked out.
Bloody hell, he could not believe his mother had shown up at Nicki’s door.
Simon closed the door behind her and resisted the urge to lean his head against it. It was simple enough to explain that statement to Nicki; obviously. But although he wanted more than anything to lay everything out and then fall to his knees and beg forgiveness, it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t have this life with Nicki that he’d only begun to taste. He didn’t need her understanding; he needed her to hate him. Otherwise he’d never be able to walk away.
And he did need to walk away. For her protection if nothing else.
Considering his mother had flown across an ocean and a continent just to deliver a warning, Simon couldn’t even imagine what she’d come up with if she really wanted to do damage.
