With that simple statement, emotions that feel unfamiliar but perfectly natural well up and brim over. It’s not the nervous flutters like earlier; it’s like if I was apart from him again my very soul would be ripped from my body. I want to tell him that. I want to bare everything to him, but not here, not now, in public. It’s not the right time. I pause for a minute, taking a deep breath to adjust to this new sensation. No, not new, it’s been there for a while, I just hadn’t recognised it. But seeing him again has caused it to erupt like a volcano. I tell him about the horses and especially Chispa. Then I tell him about how the centre is progressing, about the new horses I went with Kirsty to get and how they’re settling in. How Gabriel is planning a tournament in the summer, and that the grand opening for the centre will be in May. He listens, and asks questions, interested in what I say.
“So it’s going well, by the sounds of it,” he says. “Do you miss your playboy lifestyle?”
I think about what he says. Would I turn back the clocks a year if I could? It was definitely fun—the travel, the polo, the parties, the hookups—but I know my answer. I reach across the table and take his hand.
“This year has certainly seen some changes, but there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than a job I enjoy and nowhere I’d rather be than right here with you.”
He gives my hand a squeeze, a silent thank you. Then in true Simon style, he cocks an eyebrow and says, “Nowhere?”
“I can think of somewhere,” I reply. “Just as soon as you’re done.”
“I’m done,” he says quickly, putting the last bite of his tiramisu in his mouth and practically dropping his spoon onto the plate.
“Don’t you want coffee?” I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face. He leans forward, his voice low so only I can hear.
“I only want you. Are you going to make me wait any longer?”
I quickly settle up the bill and he leads the way out of the pub. He spins round as soon as he reaches my car, and I step into his space. Our mouths meet. I don’t care that we’re in public, but I don’t think it’ll matter in this town. It’s not a soft kiss, it’s one that’s been waiting a month. It’s desperate and grasping, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. I want all of him, right now. We break off, both breathing heavily. I don’t need to ask if he wants to come to my place, that’s clear enough. I unlock the car and we climb in.
“I have something to tell you,” he says and I pause before starting the car. I turn to face him, trying not to get worried.
“The first thing I did when I got home was to visit the clinic. I didn’t have a chance back in Aspen. But I wanted you to know that I’m negative.”
I lean over and cup his jaw, giving him a softer kiss this time. The knowledge that I can experience him bare ramps up my excitement several notches, making me even more uncomfortable in my jeans.
“I am too,” I whisper. “And that has been the sexiest thing you’ve said all evening.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SIMON
I’m almost vibrating with anticipation as Andrés drives towards Monkswood. We don’t take the main driveway, instead he turns into a lane almost half a mile further along the road. It’s narrow, with a canopy of trees, and within a few minutes I see some stone buildings and a few cottages.
“Is this where you live?”
“It comes with the job,” he says. They’re not large, not tiny either, but they do look cozy. He pulls up outside one of them. The next door is clearly occupied as it has lights showing in the windows, but the other two are dark.
“Will your neighbours mind?” I ask, being nosy about them, though I assume they also work for Gabriel. We climb out of the car and I follow him towards the end cottage.
“Kirsty?” He sounds surprised that I asked. “She’s the one who suggested the Blacksmith’s Arms.”
“She knows about me?” I feel trepidation but also a thrill that he’s talked about me to his friends.
“Yes, and her wife, Alexa. They’re pretty great actually. You’ll like them. I want you to meet them. But not tonight.” He opens the front door and pulls me through it, then he turns and stops in front of me.
“Tonight you’re mine.” His dark and husky voice sends a tingle up my spine. He brings his hands up and cradles my face. His eyes search mine, with a look that’s as deep as the ocean. “You’re so beautiful.” His kiss starts soft, but I’m hungry for him and I open up, deepening it straight away. He groans against my lips and I melt into him. He pulls my coat off and then I’m tugging at his clothes too. Within minutes we’re naked, our lips only parting long enough to allow T-shirts to be taken over our heads. I roam my hands over his body, wanting to feel every inch of his skin as his hard cock rubs against mine, and I can’t help shifting my hips, grinding on him to gain more friction. He runs his hands down my back, cupping my arse, and I hum, remembering how good it feels. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I grip the back of his neck, still kissing him as he carries me into the living room.
He sits on the couch and I straddle him. I run my fingers through his dark hair, and holding my gaze, he smirks before reaching between us and wrapping his hand round my cock. I nearly explode at his touch, and his thumb gathers the precum and works it down my length, his long fingers forming a tunnel. My hips move on their own as I fuck into his hand, unable to stop it, my body responding to him, wanting to make up for being starved of his caress for weeks.
“I want you to fuck me,” I pant. “I need to feel you inside me.”
“You will, cutie, very soon,” he says, his hand increasing in speed and pressure. I cling on to his shoulders, my fingers digging into him, giving myself over to the movement of his hand. I can feel the familiar tingle and I try to resist it, holding on as long as possible, but I have no control of my body now. He does, and I love how he can play me. I jerk, my back arching as I cry out, and I come hard, my orgasm pulled from me.
I relax, my breathing still heavy as he gathers up my cum. He glances up at me and for a minute I think he’s going to offer me his fingers. I lick my lips in anticipation, a gesture he sees, and he gives me a sly smile.
“You want these, cutie?” he asks and I nod. I’d lick every drop off him if I could. “Not yet,” he says and moves out from under me. “Kneel on the couch, and hold on to the back.” I adjust my position and he kneels behind me. He runs one hand down my back, his thumb running down my crease as his fingers grip my arse cheek, then he holds me open as he slides his cum-soaked fingers into me. First one finger, quickly followed by a second.
“Yes,” I gasp as he works my own cum into my hole, his fingers twisting and opening me up. He adds a third, but I still don’t feel full and want more.
