Sky High (Three Contemporary Novella's) (6 page)

His fingers found the zipper on her skirt, sliding it down, and then pushing the skirt down, too. When he finally straightened up, she was standing before him in panties and heels.

“I like this,” he murmured, running a hand over her hip, tracing the black lace edging with one fingertip.

“It works better when you’re naked, too.”

He smiled widely in the near-darkness and spread his arms in invitation. She took a moment to summon her nerve. It wasn’t hard to find when he was standing before her all but begging her with his eyes to touch him. Reaching out, she finished what she’d started in the entry way with his tie, undoing its perfect knot and dragging it slowly out from underneath his shirt collar. The shirt buttons came next before she pushed his shirt back off his shoulders. He took care of his undershirt, reaching up behind his neck with one hand and pulling it off over his head in an effortlessly sexy move that made her mouth go dry. His lightly sculpted abs flexed as he moved and she couldn’t resist reaching out to trail her fingers over them. When his shirt was gone, her fingers continued upward, over his chest, scattered lightly with wiry blond hair. Simon watched her explore, a slight smile on his lips. When her fingers trailed back down and landed on his belt buckle, he sucked in a breath. She glanced up at him, eyebrow cocked. He bit his bottom lip and nodded.

It had been a long time since she’d undressed a man with such focus. There was something unspeakably erotic in doing only that, not kissing, not groping or stroking. Nothing else to distract from the act, the intimacy of it. Just peeling away the layers to get to the man. Simon’s abdominal muscles contracted and he shuddered when she lowered his zipper and her fingers brushed against the hard ridge of him. His pants dropped to the floor. He toed out of his shoes before stepping free of them.

“I think you should kiss me now,” she murmured.

“I think I should do much more than kiss you.”

His hands found her waist, his palms hot against her cool skin, then he dipped his head and kissed her again, slower, less desperate, but more focused. She didn’t think she’d ever been so aware of every aspect of a man’s kiss—the softness and texture of his lips, the perfect amount of pressure, the tease of his tongue, the hint of his teeth now and then. She was insanely aroused and he’d yet to touch anything but her breasts. Taking her hands, he backed towards the bed. Cassie stepped out of her heels and let him lead her. At the edge, he kissed her again, turning and lowering her, until she was lying across the dark duvet. His hand touched her hip, his fingers dipping under the edge of her panties in a silent question. She nodded and he slid them down her legs, his palms smoothing over her skin all the way down.

Again, he didn’t do what she expected once he had her fully naked. He lowered himself to the bed, just next to her, not on her, and he kissed her—only kissed her. She was acutely aware of the cool air on every exposed inch of her skin, somehow all the more sensitive because he wasn’t touching her yet. She threaded her fingers into his hair, gripping slightly, encouraging him with her need, which was becoming a little desperate.

Cupping her face with his palm, he bit slightly on her bottom lip. She moaned, her body pressing against his. His breath left him in a shaky exhale and he shifted over her, closer to where she wanted him. Just when she thought she might explode if he didn’t touch her, his hand began a slow descent down her body, stopping to explore everything on the way. He touched her in places she’d never thought of as particularly sensitive before, but because of his slow, determined exploration, each left her twisting with desire. His fingertips dragged in a line down her sternum, making her arch into him, then he traced the bottom edge of her ribcage, all the way up until he was cupping her breast. Later, after he’d thoroughly memorized the shape and feel of her with his hands, he moved down, his fingers running along the hollow between her hip and thigh and the crease along the back of her knee. By the time he slipped his hand between her legs, she was nearly there in an instant.

“Simon,” she gasped.

“Shhh.” He knew he’d worked her into a frenzy, and he kept her there, drawing it out until she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t tipped over the edge yet. It felt a breath away. She was shaking all over from it. He captured her mouth in a deep kiss, biting her lip gently before pulling away. “Hang on,” he murmured against her lips. He rolled away for a moment, fumbling in the drawer of the bedside table for a condom. She wished there was more light so she could see him do it. The glimpses of him she’d gotten in the dark while undressing him made her think she wouldn’t be disappointed.

He rolled back over her and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear. “Ready?”

“God, yes.”

As he filled her, she felt a faint ache and an astonishing sense of completeness. He groaned in her ear, a low, animal sound completely at odds with his cool, urbane self. The sound drove her wild, and so did his urgent, powerful movements. Just like their first kiss, there was no first time fumbling, no figuring out what the other person liked. Simon seemed to know just what she wanted, and he had no problem taking what he wanted from her. She’d been nearly to the edge before he ever entered her and now it was bearing down on her with a fierce urgency. Cassie gripped his shoulders, her nails cutting in. She buried her face in his neck, gasping for breath, hanging on.

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. It was such a sweet, tender gesture, completely at odds with the way he was assaulting her body.

“Come on, love,” he muttered. And that was all it took. One brief endearment and she was done, flying, falling, splintering completely apart. She was barely through it when he came, letting out a strangled groan. He collapsed down on her, kissing her shoulder and the side of her neck, breathing into the hollow under her hair. She brought a trembling hand up to stroke his hair away from his temple.

“That was…” she began, when her voice returned.

“Spectacular,” he finished for her. He rolled off of her and hauled himself upright just long enough to clean up and came back, curling himself around her, tucking her into his chest.

They said nothing else for a long time. She kept playing with his hair, he kept stroking his palm over her shoulder and down to her hip. She flashed back to the morning, to yet another business flight to be endured, and couldn’t believe the day had ended like this.

“Cass,” Simon mumbled into her hair, more asleep than awake. Whatever he was about to say was lost as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. She could barely keep her eyes open, either. Getting up and getting dressed was out of the question for the moment. So like she had all day, she didn’t think about what she should do. She didn’t think at all. She just closed her eyes and gave into the exquisite pleasure of falling asleep in Simon’s arms.

#

She awoke much later. So late that even New York’s eternal noise had lowered to a background hum. Simon slept heavily behind her, his arm still around her waist, his body warm against her back. Cassie glanced at the glowing clock on his bedside table. Her new flight to Mexico departed in four and a half hours. Her bag was here. For a moment, she imagined staying the night, sinking back into sleep, waking up next to Simon in the morning, showering and dressing alongside him, sharing a ride back to the airport. Her heart fluttered with fear. That was far too intimate for whatever they’d been for this one day.

She could just slip out of bed, throw her clothes on and go. Odds were, he wasn’t going to call her again anyway, so what did it matter? She imagined him dressing in the morning, making an effort to avoid eye contact, keeping the conversation pleasant and impersonal. He’d get her number, of course. That was only polite. And he’d probably kiss her cheek when they separated at the airport, promising to call her soon. A call that would likely never come. It hurt to imagine.

She’d already broken the rules with this guy. Falling for him in less than twenty-four hours was definitely a disaster. Obviously, it was best to get out of here before she had to watch him slowly, politely extricate himself from this situation tomorrow. That would kill her.

Sliding out from underneath his arm, she rolled to her back and turned to look at him. His face was just inches from hers on the pillow. He looked younger, gentler in sleep. His golden eyebrows lost that little furrow between them. His mouth was soft, his lips parted very slightly. Good God, the man was beautiful. Her fingers curled in against the impulse to trace his jaw and his straight, refined nose.

Definitely time to go. She slithered out of the bed and away from the warmth of his body.

Padding silently across his floor, she gathered up her clothes and escaped to the bathroom to put herself back together. When she came back out, he’d rolled to his stomach. Watching him sleep like that, utterly sated and beautiful, she felt a twinge of remorse. Should she stay? No, surely he’d be relieved that she’d gone. But…yesterday felt like more than a casual hook up. Was it? Or was that just her overtaxed, undersexed imagination getting carried away and reading too much into things? This is why she didn’t do hook ups anymore. She was terrible at keeping her emotions out of it and that’s all these guys wanted.

Shoes in hand, she made her way to the front door where her purse was still on the floor and her carry-on bag was tucked in the corner with his. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she tried to squelch the gnawing guilt that she was behaving badly. Once more, she ran through the sensible reasons for leaving and ignored her gut. Her gut had terrible instincts when it came to men. When Simon’s door clicked shut behind her, she slipped her heels back on and walked to the elevator without looking back.

The cab hadn’t quite made it to her apartment when regret hit. What had she done, sneaking out like a thief in the night? She hadn’t left him her number or her address or even her last name. She didn’t know
his
last name. After the cab dropped her off and disappeared, she stood on the dark sidewalk in front of her apartment building, torn up with doubt.

Maybe it
wasn’t
just one night. Maybe he really liked her. The way they’d talked, the things they shared…that couldn’t just be the build up to a one night stand, could it? He wouldn’t have opened up to her the way he had if he didn’t care at least a little bit? Of course he could. Mitchell had. Mitchell had shared his whole damned life with her, except for the parts when he slept with other women.

But Simon wasn’t Mitchell. Unless he
was
, and she just didn’t know it yet.

Still, she should have at least left her card, left the door open, so he could call her if he wanted. Now she’d never see him again.

Feeling worse than she had in years, she dragged her bag up the stairs to her apartment, not even turning on the lights until she reached the bathroom. Her flight was boarding in less than two hours. There was no time to go back over there or do anything but get ready to leave again. Turning on the hot water, she let steam fill the bathroom as she stripped off her clothes. Every button she unfastened, every movement of silk over her skin, made her remember Simon doing it to her hours before, and the remorse grew.

Miserable at her cowardice, she stood under the water, letting it pound her skin and wash Simon away. He didn’t deserve her cut and run. She’d talked herself into believing he was a player and that he’d be glad to wake up and find her gone. And maybe that would have turned out to be true. Or maybe she’d been wrong about him and everything that happened, everything she felt yesterday, was real. Now she’d never know one way or another.

The truth was, she didn’t leave because of Simon. She left because it was easier to run than risk getting hurt again. Was she really going to do this for the rest of her life—letting stupid Mitchell and that pain control all her other relationships? What a waste. Sure, Simon might never have called. But she should have given him the chance to show her who he was for himself, instead of deciding that for him.

She climbed out of the shower, thinking through things as she dried off. He didn’t have a doorman that she’d seen, so she couldn’t leave a note there for him. She could tape one to the front door, but this was New York and it probably wouldn’t last an hour. Then she thought of the restaurant, Ron and Rita, and their easy friendship with Simon. He said he ate there whenever he was in town.

It was too late—or rather too early—to do it this morning. They’d be closed and beside, she still had a flight to catch. Thankfully this trip was a short one, just overnight. As soon as she got back, she’d leave a message for him there. She’d apologize and leave her number, and then she’d hope that was enough. Resolved but still miserable, she started repacking her bag for the trip.

#

Cassie stifled another yawn and pinched the skin between her thumb and finger to perk herself up. Charlie Curtis had been enthusiastically dragging her from room to room in Las Fuente’s state of the art new corporate meeting facilities all afternoon. It was taking everything she had to stay awake and alert, despite sleeping through most of her flight this morning. Even when she managed to keep her eyes open, she was still distracted, replaying every moment of the day before.

“As you can see, Ms. Sinclair, we’re capable of hosting events with as many as a thousand participants. You’ll find there aren’t too many facilities with that kind of capacity.”

“It’s a very impressive space, Mr. Curtis,” she replied.