Wallbanger(108)

wel -deserved climax.

He was everything I had hoped he would be. He was a generous lover, and I could feel my heart beat to within bursting out of my chest to be

nearer to him, to love him. He was everything.

I lifted his hand from between us and kissed his fingertips, then wrapped my legs tighter around his waist and anchored my hands on his back.

He was waiting for me. Of course he was. I adored him. I closed my eyes once more, steeling myself for al I was able to give him.

“Simon, it’s so good,” I panted, and I meant every word of it. I bucked my hips. I clenched in al the right places, and I cal ed his name, over and

over again.

“Caroline, look at me, please,” he begged, his voice rife with pleasure. I al owed my eyes to open again, feeling one tear spil down my cheek.

A strange look stole over his features for only a second as his eyes searched mine, and then? He came. No thunder, no lightning, no fanfare. But it

was stunning.

He col apsed onto me, and I took his weight. I took it al as I cradled him to my chest and kissed him over and over again, my hands soothing

his back, my legs hugging him as tightly as I could. I whispered his name as he nuzzled into the space between my neck and my breast, simple

touches and caresses.

Heart sat to the side and quietly sighed. Nerves? You motherfucker. Don’t even think about showing your face here.

We lay for a while, listening to the ocean in our own little haven, this romantic fairy tale that could have, should have been enough. When his

breathing returned to normal, he lifted his head and kissed me very softly.

“Sweet Caroline,” he smiled, and I smiled back, my heart ful .

Sex could be amazing, even without the O.

“I’l be right back,” he said disentangling from me and walking to the bathroom, naked backside a sight to behold. I watched him retreat, and

then sat up quickly, pul ing the straps of my nightie back up around my shoulders. I rol ed on to my side, away from the bathroom, and curled around

my pil ow. This had been the single best sexual experience of my life. Every i had been dotted, every t had been crossed. And yet, I was stil no-go

for O. What the hel was wrong with me?

I wil not cry.

I wil not cry.

I wil not cry.

Even though he’d only been gone from the bed a few minutes, when he came back, I panicked and pretended to be asleep. Childish? Yep.

Total y childish.

I felt the bed dip as he climbed back in, and then his warm and stil very naked body was up against me, spooning. Arms wrapped around my

middle, and then his mouth was at my ear, whispering.

“Mmm, Nightie Girl back in her nightie.”

I waited, not speaking, just breathing. I felt him shake me a little bit and let out a little chuckle.

“Hey, hey you, are you sleeping?”

Should I snore? Whenever people faked sleep on sitcoms, they snored. I let out a tiny one. He kissed my neck, my traitor skin pebbling in the

wake of his mouth. I sighed in my “sleep,” snuggling closer to Simon, hoping he would let me pul this off. The fates were kind tonight, as he simply

hugged me tighter to his chest and kissed me once more.

“’Night, Caroline,” he whispered, and the night settled around us. I fake snored for a few more minutes until his actual snoring took over, and

then I sighed heavily.

Confused and numb, I was awake until dawn.





Chapter Twenty


I HAD FAKED IT.

Faked it with Simon. There must have been a rule written somewhere, maybe even chiseled into a stone tablet: Thou Shal Not Fake It With

Wal banger. So let it be written, so let it be done. I faked it, and now I was doomed to wander the planet forever, O-less.

Was I being overly dramatic? Oh my, yes. But if this didn’t cal for a little drama, what did?

That next morning, I was up and out of bed before Simon was even awake, something I hadn’t done the entire time we were on our trip

together. Usual y we stayed in bed until the other one was awake, and then lounged for a while, laughing and talking. And kissing.

Mmm, the kissing.

But this morning I ran quickly through the shower and was in the kitchen making breakfast when a sleepy Simon came in. Shuffling across the

floor in his socks, with boxers low on his hips, he grinned through his sleep haze and burrowed into my side as I sliced melon and berries.

“What are you doing out here? I was a little lonesome. Big bed, no Caroline. Where’d you go?” he asked, planting a quick kiss on my shoulder.

“I needed to get moving this morning. Remember the car is coming for me at ten? I wanted to make you some breakfast before I left.” I smiled,

turning to give him a quick kiss.

He stopped me from turning away and kissed me more thoroughly, not letting me hurry through anything. I could feel myself closing off, and I