The dishwater-blond hair? Not so much dishwater. It was shiny and golden, a little wavy and curly from the saltwater it had been cooking in al
week. The pale skin? Nicely browned up and, dare I say, a little glowy? I winked at myself, holding back a maniacal giggle. My mouth had that
slightly pouty lower lip, just ful enough to trap me some Simon and not let him go. And the legs I saw peeking from below the lace just covering my
thighs? Wel , not so bird-like anymore. In fact, I think they were going to look pretty spectacular wrapping around Simon’s…whatever I felt like
wrapping them around.
And so, as I smoothed my hair once more and mental y ran through al my internal checklists, I was wildly excited about the night ahead. We’d
raced back to the house, practical y disrobed each other in the entryway, and after begging a few moments of girl time, I was now ready to go out
and claim my Simon. Because who was kidding who? I wanted this man. Wanted him for my own, and did not, would not, share him with anyone
else.
Brain for once was final y in agreement with LC. Especial y since she’d crawled up Backbone and slapped Brain right in the stem, tel ing her in
that special way only she could that we needed this. We deserved this, and we were ready. Nerves, wel , they continued to circle in my tummy, but
that was to be expected, right? I mean, it had been a long, long time, and a little bit of nerves was normal, I expect. Had I been stal ing al week?
Maybe.
Kind of.
A little.
Simon had been more than patient, content to take things slow, at my pace, but for crying out loud, he was only human.
I was adamant that Nerves not be al owed to turn another Spanish night into the land of cuddle and coo. I turned in the mirror, trying to see
myself as Simon might see me. I smiled in what I thought was a seductive way, flipped off the light, took one more deep breath, and opened the
door.
The bedroom had been transformed into something from a fairy tale. Candles flickered on the dresser and nightstands, bathing the room in a
warm glow. The windows were open, as wel as the door to the little balcony overlooking the sea, and I could hear the waves crashing, romance-
novel style. And there he stood: hair tousled, body strong, eyes blazing.
I watched as he took me in, dragging his gaze down my body and back, a smile spreading across his face as he appraised my outfit of choice.
“Mmm, there’s my Pink Nightie Girl,” he sighed, holding out his hand. And when I stal ed for just the tiniest second, Backbone picked up my
hand and gave it to him.
We stood in the darkened room, a few feet apart but connected by our woven fingers. I could feel the rough texture of his thumb as he traced
circles on the inside of my hand, the same circles he’d traced weeks and weeks before when I began to fal under his spel . Our eyes ful of each
other, he took a deep breath.
“It’s criminal how good you look in that,” he said, drawing me toward him and giving me a little spin so he could better see the pink baby dol
nightie. As he spun me, the lacey edges flipped up just a little, showing off the accompanying ruffled panties. A low noise sounded in his throat, and
if I wasn’t mistaken, it was a growl? Damn…
He spun me back closer, grasping my hips and pressing me against him, my breasts crushing into his chest. He placed a tiny kiss below my
ear, letting me feel just the tip of his tongue.
“So there are some things I need you to understand,” he murmured, nuzzling with his nose, his hands brushing up under my nightie to fluff my
ruffles and grab a handful of backside, catching me by surprise. I gasped.
“You listening? Don’t get distracted on me now,” he whispered again, flattening out his tongue and dragging it up the side of my neck.
“It’s kind of hard to focus with your distraction poking me in the thigh,” I groaned, letting him bend me backward just enough so that my entire
lower body was pressed against him, his hard places perfectly content to mold my soft places around them. He chuckled against my neck, now
dotting my col arbone with his trademarked baby kisses.
“Here’s what you need to know. One, you’re amazing,” he said, his hands now traveling up to the smal of my back, fingers and thumbs
massaging and manipulating. “Two, you’re amazingly sexy,” he breathed.
My hands now hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it back off his shoulders as our pace began to transition from slow and easy to fast and
frantic. Now his hands were sneaking around front, his nails lightly scraping along my tummy, lifting my nightie so we were skin to skin, nothing left
between us. I ran my hands up and down his back, my nails much more aggressive, digging in and anchoring him against me.