Sixx thinking she had anything to do with her friends dying at her uncle’s hand, now that was worth getting pissed and in her face about.
She walked out to the patio, went to the remote that controlled practically everything, including the pool light and the water feature. She turned both on then went to a lounge, curled in it, legs tucked tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them, and watched the halogen pool light lazily navigate a variety of different colors. Purple. Blue. Green. Red. Purple. Blue. Green. Red.
“Simone.”
She didn’t jump, even if she hadn’t noticed him joining her.
She just tipped her head back and looked up at him.
“I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to disturb you on your call, so I just turned everything off,” she told him.
“It’s pasta. It’s fine. If it’s ruined, I’ll cook more,” he replied impatiently, then got to what he wanted to talk about, she knew with the intense look he had focused on her face. “Are you all right?”
She was not.
She wanted to show him. She wanted to be brave enough to take him to her sketchpads and hand them over and give herself to him fully. Show him the unrelenting ugly. Show him how he was the first real beauty she’d had in her life. Show him how Carlo was a prankster, a pain in her ass, a part of her life who could disappear, but even so, he’d always be there when she needed him. Show him that Aryas was the first person she’d ever truly trusted.
Show him that he had already hit her sketchpads, and he was going to be the second.
Show him everything.
He’d be able to handle it.
She was not a mighty Goliath, capable of facing everything, not once sustaining a scar.
He was.
And in superhero land there were two ways that could go.
He was either the hero’s source of strength, the calm in the storm, the safe haven that was always there to return to.
Or he was her mortal weakness. The being the cyclone of evil out there was always threatening to destroy. The being she loved the most, and no matter how strong he was, he would be lost to it, and when he was, it would break her.
And that would be a wound that would never heal.
So she’d have to keep him safe.
And to do that, she had to stay away from him, lose him, sacrifice their love so he could go on without her to live the life he deserved.
“Simone,” he called, his voice sharp with worry, his body angling down to sit on the lounge at her feet. He wrapped a strong hand with his long, elegant fingers around her ankle and ordered, “Talk to me.”
Tell him, tell him, tell him! her mind screamed.
She turned her gaze to the pool.
“I’m just trying to get used to it,” she said.
“Used to what?” he asked.
“Just … everything.”
Coward, her mind sneered.
“Give me an example of ‘everything,’” Stellan demanded.
“We watched movies all day, me in my underwear, you in what amounts to pajamas,” she explained.
“And?” he pressed.
“I’ve never done that.” She looked from the pool to him. “I’ve never had that brand of awesome.”
“So you’re sitting out here, looking lost and alone, reflecting about a day you thoroughly enjoyed?” he asked, like he wanted confirmation that she was as insane as she sounded.
“Baby,” she said quietly, “you signed on for the mess. You’re not allowed to question it.”
“Sorry, darling, I absolutely signed on, but that was not a caveat.”
He was right. It was not.
Wishful thinking never worked for her either.
“This has been a great day,” she declared.
“And so you’re by my pool brooding.”
Her back went straight. “Men brood. Women ponder.”
His lips twitched and he amended, “And so you’re by my pool pondering.”
“Yes, pondering how a day can be this perfect and you can be this annoying because you’ve given me a perfect day.”
He burst out laughing.
She loved the look, the sound, everything.
But she glared at him.
Still chuckling, he stated, “So you’re not out here pondering. You’re out here thinking about how dead set you were against this deal we have, and it hasn’t been a full week, but you like it here, you like being with me, you’re happy, so now you know how very wrong you were, and this means you’re pouting.”
“Don’t gloat, handsome. It’s unbecoming,” Sixx retorted.
He continued chuckling as his hand slid up the inside of her calf and he leaned toward her, this taking all her attention.
“Would you like to sit out here continuing to ponder about how I was very right regarding how spectacular we are together,” he asked in a silken drawl. “Thus how you were very wrong. And how much more spectacular we’re going to be after I play with you tomorrow, something you know because you can’t even take my hand on your calf without giving everything away. Doing all this while I go in and cook more pasta so we can eat?”
“It’s your self-appointed role to give me everything I might desire, and you’ve done a bang-up job so far so no sense stopping. Therefore, yes. As it’s been two full hours since we ate up all Margarita’s fabulous homemade salsa with those chips, food would be good,” she returned, making him continue to laugh softly, which was her intention entirely.
Stellan slid his hand down the inside of her thigh and she shivered.
Which didn’t make him stop laughing, but the sound of it turned to something far more affecting.
“Ponder all you want, darling. I’ll be inside boiling pasta and waiting,” he purred.
“Stop turning me on when you’re not going to let me come when we start getting it on,” she shot back.
“Oh,” he murmured, his fingers gliding in a there-and-gone touch across the gusset of her panties that she knew he didn’t miss were soaked with her wet, and probably didn’t miss his nearly imperceptible touch made them wetter, “I advise you get used to that, Simone. But I have a feeling you’ll not learn to like it, you’ll learn to love it because you like it very much already.”
“Tease,” she snapped somewhat breathlessly.
“Temptress,” he whispered in return.
Before it could go on any longer, he bent in and kissed her knee before he squeezed the inside of her thigh affectionately and straightened from the lounge.
“Come in when you’re ready,” he murmured, giving her a tender, loving smile before he sauntered away with his confident swagger in those lounge pants that at just a glance made her wet(ter).
He gives you everything, and you give nothing, her mind pointed out. How are you going to keep him if you take and don’t give?
“That’s the point precisely,” she muttered to the door Stellan entered, watching through the windows as he moved to the kitchen.
So it’s better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all? It was a scoff.
“No,” she looked back to the pool. “It’s better to give the little I can give before he gets too deep and then get the fuck out of his life so he can find someone who deserves to have him.”
You’re a fool.
“I’m a hero,” she told the mellow rotation of tranquil colors of the pool. “We’ll do anything, sacrifice it all, to protect the ones we love.”
Her inner tormenter had nothing to say to that.
Then again, she knew all too well that was just plain true.
*
Sixx liked taking Stellan like this best of all.
On her belly, her legs spread wide, his cock driving deep, his body covering hers, his face in her neck, his arms around her, fingers touching her, teasing her, driving her crazy.
Second best was missionary or riding him with him sitting up. It was vanilla, but she didn’t care. She liked face-to-face, getting to watch him, seeing how much he got off on watching her.
She liked how she was taking him now more, though. She could feel his power better like this, his chest pressed to her back, his hips pounding into her ass, his cock thrusting deep, his breath rough on her skin, his warmth everywhere.