I pushed back against him, flipping us once more and pulling at his jeans. “Off, now,” I instructed.
When his belt was gone, his buttons unbuttoned, I pulled apart his jeans to find that once more my man had gone commando.
It’s like he was put on earth just to make me come out of my skin.
I snuck one hand inside, grasping him firmly, feeling how warm he was; ready to take me on my own trip around the world.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he breathed, his body lean and taut. I slid down the bed, kissing and licking at his skin hungrily. His hands came up to my face, fingers fluttering along my cheekbones, sweeping my hair back. So he could watch.
I took him into my mouth, entirely. His hands clutched at my hair, freezing me in place, holding me exactly how he wanted me. “Mmm, Caroline,” he moaned, thrusting ever so slightly. Slightly, my ass—that wasn’t how this show was going down.
I pulled back then took him in again, hard. Using my hands I caressed him, alternating my touch so he never knew quite where I was coming from, using my tongue and mouth to tease and tempt him, coaxing the sweetest dirty words out of that sent-from-heaven-mouth of his. That mouth that I knew would exact the sweetest dirty revenge all over my body.
I loved him this way, loved that I could make him this insane. But just before he got too far gone, he pulled me up his body and took my panties off before I could say, hey, those are my panties.
Then he pushed up my skirt, nudging my knees apart with his own. Gazing down at me with those piercing sapphire eyes, he ran his fingers over me, through me, making me groan and moan and shake and shimmy. “So gorgeous like this,” he breathed as I cried out.
“Need you, Simon—need you, please!” I was ready to tear my hair off my head and throw it at him, if I thought that would get him inside any faster.
Any further thoughts vanished as he slid home. Thick, hard, and ten kinds of fantastic were all I knew the second Simon pressed inside me. “God, that’s amazing,” I moaned, the feeling of him filling me overwhelming me.
And when he rolled us so I was on top, and he thrust up hard inside me, it was perfection.
Until afterward, when we lay in a heap of sweaty limbs, and he asked me how I liked his hammer.
Then it was beyond perfection.
chapter two
The next morning, I crawled out from under a sleeping Simon. After a second round of hammer time, when he collapsed on me, spent and . . . Wait a second. You know in romance novels, when they say the guy collapses on top of the girl, spent and exhausted? Take that, add a transatlantic flight, and then you have what happened to Simon. He literally collapsed onto me, sated and jet-lagged. I barely had time to set my alarm before 190 pounds of warm boy collapsed on me and wasn’t letting me up.
But when you go weeks without that same 190 pounds in your bed, the truth is, it felt kind of nice to sleep underneath that. Or at least, off to the side just a little bit. I loved him, but I loved my kidneys too.
After attending to Clive, I quickly showered. By the time I was dressed, he was at his post in the front window, making sure the neighborhood was still out there. Pulling my damp hair into a ponytail, I took a moment to admire Simon, sawing logs in lumberjack land. Dark messy hair, made messy by my own hands, fell across his brow. Strong nose, killer cheekbones, a few days’ worth of sinful scruff and full lips that had chanted my name several times just before he . . . Mmmm.
I took another moment to appreciate the still life in front of me: stretched out, arms above his head, torso long and lean, and nothing between him and that sheet but a promise.
I shook my head to clear it, then crossed the room and sat next to him. In his sleep, he mumbled and reached for me. Smiling, I let myself be caught into a sleepy bear hug, kissing him on the forehead until those gorgeous blues opened into mine.
“Morning, babe.” I grinned as he pressed against me more fully. I knew this game. I didn’t have time for this game. “No, no, I gotta go. The girls are waiting for me.” Breakfast with my two best friends, Mimi and Sophia, was something I always made time for, Wallbanger or no Wallbanger.
“Girls? Where do you think you’re going? I just got back,” he complained, still half asleep.
“I’m having breakfast with the girls. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow, remember?”
“But I’m here now,” he mumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open.
“You stay here and get some more sleep. I know how tired you are,” I whispered, kissing his forehead once more and tucking him back under the covers. Which really was a shame, because, come on, Simon on a bed? It seemed a sin to cover any of that up.
But as he scrunched up his pillow and settled back in, he sure seemed cozy. With a deep sigh, he said, “I’ll stay here and get some more sleep.”