I was perfectly not.
I simply couldn’t be. It was too much; he was too much. I would never get used to the feeling of him inside me, stretching me and filling me and being perfectly there. I thrashed, I shimmied, I arched and I flexed. And he stayed perfectly still. The muscles in his arms bunched, his neck corded, his torso gleamed with the sweet strain of not moving. He was like a naughty work of art.
Then he lifted his head and opened his eyes. Singularly focused, dark, and of one mind-set.
Simon was about to fuck.
Pulling out almost entirely, he thrust low. And hard. And serious.
And I came out of my skin.
He rode me, rode my body and my sex, and when he leaned heavy over me and chanted the dirtiest words imaginable in my ear, I came again. Right as he came. Low. And hard. And so serious.
Wrapping my arms around him, I kept him inside as long as I could. Even when he lifted me off the counter I fought that loss, keeping my legs around his waist as he laughed. He unraveled me, threw me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and slapped my bottom.
He then ate an entire loaf of zucchini bread with his pants around his ankles while he leaned on the counter, resting his head on my bottom.
? ? ?
“So remind me to never stop baking for you,” I said fifteen minutes later, when I was finally allowed to put my pants back on and start cleaning up the kitchen.
“Would that ever happen?” Simon looked stricken. At the thought that I might stop baking, or perhaps because he’d just eaten an entire loaf of bread?
“Doubtful. It’s a mutually beneficial kind of thing, obviously.”
“I should say.” He smirked as I poured him some coffee and marched him over to the sofa. “Why am I on the couch?”
“Because I’m cleaning and you’re in the way. Plus you just got back, so let me fawn over you a little.”
“But mainly because I was in the way, right?”
“Right.” I grabbed a broom and swept up some raisins. Clive had spirited a few away already; I imagined I’d find those in bed later tonight. He loved to hide them one by one. I’d stopped asking questions.
Simon relaxed on the couch, watching me sweep and commenting when my backside looked particularly fetching. Looking over the rim of his coffee cup, he asked, “Hey, what were you doing sketching on a Saturday? You gotta work today?”
“Kinda sorta.”
“Kinda sorta?”
“Yeah, a big job that Jillian put me on. We’re bidding on it next week, and if I get this job it’ll mean . . . Well, it’d be a big deal.” I hesitated, not even wanting to say it out loud. This would be big giant balls big.
“That’s great! What kind of job?”
“A hotel in Sausalito. Jillian’s given me the lead on it, due to the wedding and her honeymoon. So yeah, big week at work.” I finished the sweeping and threw the raisins into the trash. Grabbing my sketchbook, I headed into the living room and sat next to him, propping my feet in his lap.
“Sounds big. That’s good, babe.”
“Plus, I’m kind of taking over while they’re on their honeymoon. I’m gonna be swamped.”
“You can handle it. I’m proud of you.”
“Well, be proud of me if I get the job. Till then it’s just a bid. But fingers crossed, right?” I laughed, lying back against the cushions as he rubbed my heel.
“I have a good feeling about this. Maybe we’ll have something to celebrate next week,” he said, wiggling my big toe. “Speaking of celebrations, how’d you like to come to Rio with me this December?”
Whuh?
I say again, whuh?
“I love when you drop your consonants,” he murmured, scooting closer and leaning over me.
“I said that out loud?”
“You sure did.”
“Okay. Well, then, answer my whuh.”
“No one on the planet has ever said that exact sentence before.” He chuckled, drawing a line with his fingertip down my nose and pressing it against my mouth.
“Rio? In December?” I mumbled.
“For Christmas.”
“Whuh?”
As he laughed, I scrambled up from beneath him. “Explain, please.”
“Nothing to explain. I booked a job in Brazil—I’ll be working in Rio on Christmas. I want my best girl with me.”
Christmas in Brazil. Sultry warm ocean breeze. Sipping caipirinhas under festival lanterns. Coconut oil. Bikini. Simon.
Second Christmas away from home in a row?