Her hands flew out in front of her to brace against the counter as her head jerked back, hitting his shoulder, and he stuffed his face in her neck, breathing hard there as he fucked her harder, his hand going down her belly, she knew, toward her clit.
“No,” she whispered, catching it at the wrist, trying to stop its path. “I just want to feel you, hear you.”
“You’re coming again with me, sweetheart,” he said against her skin.
“I want—” That got cut off with a moan as his finger found her clit and rolled.
She pushed against her hands to rock into his thrusts and pressed the side of her head to the top of his, his face still buried in her neck, and they panted, she moaned and whimpered, he sighed and grunted, and finally his lips found her ear and he whispered, “Now, Simone,” and they both came.
She was shuddering against him in her aftermath when she felt that his arms had wound around her, one at her belly, one at an angle across her chest.
His hand at her shoulder moved to her cheek, turned her head, and she was just able to catch his warm, satisfied eyes before he took her mouth in a gentle, slow, wet kiss.
When he finished it, he stayed close, rubbing his nose against hers, asking quietly, “What were you thinking when you came into the kitchen?”
No hesitation, no prevarication, she gave it to him.
“That I like light rock.”
She watched that hit his eyes, reveling in the beauty of knowing he understood exactly what she was saying, before he kissed her again, just as gently, just as wet, but a lot shorter.
When he ended that one, he murmured, “You get cleaned up. I’ll make us both a drink.”
“I can man a martini shaker, hot stuff,” she noted.
His brows went up. “Really?”
“I might need some practice to get to your level, but I’ll never get it if you’re always taking care of me.”
“Darling,” he whispered, “that’s the point.”
Oh, she knew that.
And she loved that about him too.
“Baby,” she whispered back, “throw a girl a bone. I gotta have some of that action somehow.”
The beauty of that as it reached his eyes nearly made her knees buckle.
If they had, since he was holding her up with his arms and his cock still planted inside, it would have been okay.
But she would have lost that look, and she wanted it forever.
“You can make our drinks after you clean up,” he allowed.
“Much obliged,” she muttered.
He slid out and pulled up his pants before he bent to retrieve her panties.
She pushed her skirt down and took them when he handed them to her.
He did up his trousers as he moved back to his preparation station at the island.
She carried her panties with her as she headed toward the powder room on the first floor.
She also moved while calling, “Hot stuff?”
“Right here.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a small smile. “Just an FYI. I wholeheartedly approve of that brand of welcome home.”
He smiled back, and his was not exactly small, but it was roguish.
She loved that too.
She hit the powder room. She cleaned up. She slid on her panties.
Then she headed out and kept on her high-heeled black sandals that were made of precisely two straps, one across her toes, one around her ankles, and her blousy white top, because she was comfortable in them, and if Stellan didn’t take time to change to see to her, she wasn’t going to do it either to see to him.
Thus, she made martinis for her and her man.
They weren’t as good as his.
But on sip three, seated at the island, chatting with him as he made dinner, it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter on sip one either.
She was home.
And he was home.
And they had nothing but togetherness before they had to separate to take on their days the next morning.
So nothing else mattered.
*
Later that evening, after drinks and dinner, the pool light was roving through yellow, blue, green and red underneath them as Stellan and Sixx floated on his big, beanbag-esque pool floats.
They each had their own, but their floats were connected since Stellan had his thigh thrown over hers and his arm twined in hers, his fingers lazily stroking the inside of her forearm.
But it doesn’t suck either, having that damned fine of a fuck you.
Sylvie’s words came to her, and she almost cackled, lying on a float in the pool of a Phoenician mansion with a gorgeous millionaire, her belly full of an Asian salad made hearty with perfectly cooked flakes of salmon fillet, and a martini that led to two glasses of the best sauvignon blanc she’d ever had.
“You look amused,” Stellan noted.
“Life is funny,” Sixx replied.
He gave her a soft look. “This would partially explain why you look amused.”
She explained more fully. “I never thought about it, and it took too long to realize it, but I bested her a long time ago. But here I am, with you, and this is all for me. It doesn’t have shit to do with her. And that’s the best of all.”
The soft didn’t go out of his look, but there was some wary that leaked in, and Sixx could understand that. It probably wasn’t easy for him to go from her holding back to her giving it all.
She’d have to get him there.
That was something else she was going to best.
But right then, even though Sixx brought her up, it was cautiously when he continued to do that, asking, “Do you wish she could see all you’ve become?”
“No. I don’t even wish he could see it. I don’t really care,” she answered candidly.
“I think that’s healthy,” he said gently.
Carefully on the float, she turned slightly to her side, which meant hooking her leg firmer to his and crunching their floats together.
“Baby, I’m still a mess. It’s going to take a while to get used to being just me.”
“You’ll get there,” he murmured.
“Yes. On a pool float. At night. In a pool with a hot guy. Orgasmed up. Liquored up. And great-fooded up.”
The wary went out of his expression, and she liked it a lot better when gratification filled it.
“Domestic decadence suits you,” he replied.
“It would suit anybody,” she returned.
“Only those who earned it.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “I didn’t earn any of this, Stellan.”
“Yes you did.”
She stared at him.
“I pay for it, obviously,” he continued. “But do you think it meant anything to me before except being a place I enjoyed and felt comfortable being in when I was not at work? I grew up in greater opulence than this. It’s meaningless. Until you have it to share with somebody, to give to somebody, someone who appreciates it. Only then does it take on meaning.”
He just couldn’t be believed, even floating beside her, being all that was Stellan.
Honestly, she couldn’t take it.
“God, you really, seriously need to stop being so damned awesome,” she groused.
He burst out laughing.
She lost her pique, which poorly hid the depth of her emotion, and smiled while she watched.
“Now,” he said when his laughter died away, “we’ve had a great deal of weighty, and I think it’s a good idea to have it, process it, but mingle it with a healthy dose of normal. Do you agree?”
She nodded.
“Then there are matters to discuss,” he went on.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like the fact I need to take a business trip to New York. I’ll be gone three days. I’d like you to go with me.”
Whoa.
“Well—” she started.
“Not for the workdays,” Stellan clarified. “I’ll be busy with meetings, and I don’t expect you to drop everything and take vacation in order to travel with me, and not simply because most of the time I’m there, I can’t be with you. But we could leave earlier than my meetings start, spend the weekend there together, and you can fly home Sunday evening as my meetings begin on Monday.”
That would definitely work.
And she loved New York.
But more, she loved this indication he didn’t think she could drop everything, take off on her job, her responsibilities, simply to be available to him.
She just kept getting more from him.
More love.
And more respect.
“If I have enough notice, I think I can make that work with Joel,” she told him.
“Excellent. It’s in three weeks.”
“I’ll talk to Joel tomorrow.”