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Authors: Lori Foster

Simon Says (30 page)

BOOK: Simon Says
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Her heart started pumping double time. “Um…maybe after I'm clean and sitting down somewhere?”

His smile did crazy things to her. “We'll see.”

Turning her so that she faced the shower spray, he took over washing her. Taking his time lathering her breasts and belly in a diabolical way that soon had her squirming in need. “Simon…”

“My turn.” His soapy hands came back up to her nipples. The lather left her slippery so that his fingers slid over her, around her, pinching lightly, tugging at her.

“I'm not you, Simon.” So much sensation swelled inside her, she wanted, needed, to lie down. “I can't do this standing up.”

His mouth touched her ear, and he whispered in challenge, “Wanna bet?”

Dakota tried to turn, but he held her secure with one arm. She really didn't think she could take too much more, not with how much she wanted him already. “Simon, no.”

He went still. “Are you afraid of me, Dakota?” His arms hugged around her. “Does this position alarm you?”

She shook her head hard. “No, it's not that.” Other than that one time after discussing Marvin with him, she'd never been distressed with Simon.

“Good.” He went back to teasing her.

“But I—”

His hand cupped over her mound. “Quiet down, Dakota. No talking. Just feel.”

Pressing her head back against his shoulder, she tried to do just that. He had one arm around her upper body, supporting her but leaving his hand free to toy with her breast. With his other hand, he fondled between her legs, exploring her. The soap washed away, but the water left their skin slick.

Simon said, “Hold your breasts for me.”

“What?” She didn't understand him at all.

He took her hands and lifted them up to her breasts. “Right here, honey.”

Arms crisscrossed, she covered her own breasts. It wasn't nearly as exciting as Simon's touch.

“Now I have both hands free to play with you.” And that's just what he did, slipping his fingers inside her while also exposing her small clitoris, rubbing lightly, rhythmically. It was wonderful—but it wasn't quite enough and Dakota grew so frustrated that she wanted to scream.

Suddenly Simon said, “My turn now.” He eased her back against the shower wall and went to his knees.

Anxious for her release, Dakota groaned and braced herself. She clamped one hand on the towel bar, the other on his shoulder, and she moved her legs apart.

Simon ran his hands down the length of her body, from her breasts to her upper thighs. She felt his sudden hesitation and peered down to see him lightly touching the faded knife scar on her thigh. He looked higher, at the similar scar on her ribs.

Some strange emotion showed on his face, prompting Dakota to ask softly, “Do they bother you?”

“They infuriate me,” he whispered back. In the next instant, he leaned forward and gently kissed each sign of past violence. “You're a remarkable woman, Dakota Dream.”

“I'm a horny woman.”

Laughing, he put his face against her belly and hugged her. “That's it, honey. Make it easier on me.”

He continued to kiss her, down her stomach, lower. His fingers opened her more, and his mouth covered her and Dakota nearly shouted from the joy of it. The flick of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the sheer awareness of Simon kissing and tasting her there, and she didn't last more than a minute.

Helping to keep her upright, Simon caught her hips until the roiling climax eased and the ripples of release weakened. Easing her down until she sat in his lap, Simon held her.

He kissed her ear and said, “I'll give you one minute to recover, and then we're drying off and trying this in a bed.”

Dakota managed a chuckle. “A bed? How boring.”

“I want to be inside you, Dakota.” He tipped her head back so he could see her face. “I want to feel you squeezing me when you come.”

As he said it, she felt it, and desire sparked again. It amazed Dakota, but she wasn't about to question it. She liked it too much. “Simon?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Turn the shower off.”

He smiled, brought them both to their feet, and turned off the water.

“I like mounting you,” Dakota whispered as she lowered herself over him. “It's much more fun than when I'm sparring.”

Lying flat on his back in the bed, Simon held her hips, keeping her on her knees. Her nipples were tightly puckered, her skin flushed.

He knew he wanted to grow old seeing Dakota just like this.

She'd towel-dried her hair, but it was still damp, hanging in long, tangled clumps around her proud shoulders. The faded bruises on her forehead and cheek didn't detract from her feminine features, especially when need softened her blue eyes and fast, shallow breaths parted her lush lips.

He loved her. He knew it. And he didn't give a damn if it hadn't been long enough yet. “I hope you wore more clothes when you mounted the guys at the gym.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes closed and she braced her hands on his chest. “Lots of clothes.” Her eyes opened again and she stared down at him. “But it wouldn't have mattered because none of them are you, and they don't even come close to making me feel the way you do.”

She'd closed the curtains, but every lamp glowed in the room. Simon could see the scars of her past, the scars that had kept her from feeling anything sexual for far too long. Already, he wore a condom. He didn't want to take chances with her future, a future she had to decide.

“For my peace of mind, whether it matters or not, keep on wearing clothes, okay?”

She started to laugh, but as Simon worked two fingers into her, she gasped instead. He felt the bite of her nails on his pecs and said, “Easy, honey. I just want to make sure you're ready.”

She pressed herself against his hand, driving his fingers deeper. “More than ready.”

Yeah, she was wet and hot, swollen and soft.
Ready
. Pulse racing, Simon pulled his fingers away and guided her onto him. Her small, anxious sounds of excitement filled his head. He watched as, slowly, his cock pushed past her pink lips, as her thigh muscles flexed and her belly drew tight. Little by little, he sank in—and it was such a turn-on that he had to fight to hold back another release.

Clasping her knees, Simon opened her legs more, then reached down and touched her where she joined with him. She gasped again.

“So tight, Dakota. But nice and wet.”

Moaning, she leaned closer to his chest, but that wasn't what Simon wanted. He took her shoulders and held her away. After a deep breath, he said, “Sit up, honey.”

She shook her head. “I can't.”

“Yeah, you can. Do it.”

She sucked in several shaky breaths, and drew herself upright by small degrees. Simon watched her face, relishing each nuance of sensation as he went deeper, filling her more, possessing her completely.

“Lean back on my knees.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she did as he asked, and the position arched her back, offering her breasts to him. She bit her lip on a whimper.

He loved it. Strong, capable Dakota, reduced to burning need. He could spend his every free moment loving her like this. “You are beautiful, Dakota.”

She said nothing.

Simon kept one hand between her legs, gliding a fingertip over her turgid clitoris, and with the other he took turns working her nipples, tormenting each in turn until Dakota trembled with near desperation.

“Do you like the feel of me filling you?”

She nodded, gave a small sob, and to Simon's shock, she came again. He'd been so involved in enjoying her that he hadn't realized she was so close. He felt her inner muscles milking him, clasping and squeezing in undulating waves, and he lost his tenuous hold on control.

Grabbing her hips, he lifted into her.

She cried out. Then cried out again, and again in time to his thrusts, each sweet sound of release rising as her orgasm took her, pushing him that much closer. He drove into her one last time and came, his mind and body totally spent.

When Dakota slumped down against his chest, Simon clamped her to him. He groaned at the overwhelming sense of it all, and felt Dakota idly stroking his chest.

They stayed like that until Simon knew he had to get up before he lost the condom and ended up taking chances with her after all.

He kissed her shoulder and lifted her to her back beside him. “Stay put. I'll be right back.”

She didn't move, didn't speak. Simon smiled at that, and went into the bathroom.

When he returned, she'd rolled to her side and had the sheet over her lower body. He walked around the bed and got in beside her. Immediately, she crawled back on top of him.

In a whisper, she said, “Do you mind?”

“Having you for a blanket? No.”

“Good. I like breathing you in and feeling all of you.” She snuggled against him. “I could sleep like this.”

No time like the present, Simon thought. “Honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Before you doze off…Harley didn't come to see me about Bonnie.”

As if she really didn't care one way or the other, she kissed his chest. “No?”

“He didn't want to talk about the fight, either.” As Simon spoke, he trailed his hand up and down her spine, luxuriating in the silky texture of her skin. “I'm sorry, Dakota, but I need to—”

“Talk. I know.” Around a lusty yawn, she said, “You
love
talking.”

He smiled at her, but didn't relent. “I wish there was a better time to bring this up, but I don't think there is.”

Looking wide-awake, Dakota jerked up her head. “You're not giving me a kiss-off, are you?” She tweaked his chest hair playfully. “Listen up, Sublime. If you were only biding your time till you got what you wanted—”

“I'm not sure a decade would be long enough to get everything I want from you.”

“Really?” Dakota's smile wobbled, then she lay back down on him. “A decade, huh?”

Refusing to go off course, Simon cupped the back of her head and said, “Honey, how did your mother die?”

She went very still. “What are you talking about?”

Tenderly, Simon sifted his fingers through her drying hair. “You told me your mother passed away, but not how or why.”

“She had an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

Long seconds went by in silence before she shrugged. “We had this tiny deck off the back of our house. Wooden stairs led to the yard. Somehow Mom fell.”

“Lots of people fall.” Dakota had fallen.

“I know. But she…I guess the railing had rotted, because halfway down, it broke away and Mom went over the side into a large woodpile.” Her voice faded with the memories. “She had multiple rib fractures. A broken leg. So many cuts and bruises. But they told me it was the severe head injuries that put her in a coma.”

“She never came out of the coma? She never had a chance to say what happened?”

Dakota shook her head. “I'd already decided to leave Marvin, so I moved back home. It was close to the hospital. I spent each day with her. And I prayed a lot. But the doctors told me not to get my hopes up. She had so many injuries and every day she looked more frail until…one day she was gone.”

Simon pressed a warm kiss to the top of her head. “I'm sorry to bring it up.”

She pushed up to her elbows to look at him. “Why are you?”

“Because you also fell down some stairs.”

Confusion had her shaking her head. “It wasn't the same.”

“Wasn't it?”

Her brows came together. “I was pushed.”

Wishing he didn't have to put the possibility into her head, Simon touched her cheek. “Maybe your mother was, too.”

She jerked upright, her expression contorted with anger and suspicion. “You think someone pushed my mother?”

“I don't know.” Simon sat up beside her. “Was Marvin ever around your mother? You think he's the one who pushed you. Could he have pushed her, too?”

In a near panic, Dakota searched his face. “God, no. If he did, then it was my fault.”

“No. Shhh. I didn't say that.”

She left the bed in a rush and paced across the room—as far from him and the awful possibility as she could get. “You don't have to say it. I brought Marvin into our lives. I know that and I accept the responsibility for it.”

Simon didn't go to her. She looked ready to charge from the room naked if he did. “I want us to think about this rationally.”

“The night Marvin…hurt me”—she ran a hand over her forehead, pushing her hair away from her pale face—“he left and didn't come back. But that was days
after
my mother had already fallen. She was in a coma almost a week before the detective found me. It doesn't make any sense that he would have done that to her before that night.”

BOOK: Simon Says
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