“Don’t need to know. None of their business.” My lips were close enough to hers to take a kiss.
She kissed back, tentative and slow. I felt the plumpness of her lips and taste of her that I was sure I’d recognise anywhere. Her hands made trails across my skin, fingers finding sensitivity where I was sure there had been none before.
We shifted on the bed, me lying down, her straddling me, leaning over, having control. I looked up and saw stars, only I wasn’t outside. Our hands explored each other, seeking senses that were kept quietly locked in our heads for most of the time. She was full of concentration and determination and it was all I could do to focus on not turning us over and devouring her like she was my last supper.
Simone paused, her hair trickling down onto my chest. She looked curious, concerned maybe.
“You want to stop?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been married twice. I’m no fragile virgin.”
“I know. You have this heat in your eyes sometimes that makes me want to get inside your head and find out what’s caused it. I’ve seen it recently.”
Her grin was accusatory. “And you think it’s because of you?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got something to do with it.”
She responded by pushing my t-shirt up, her eyes raking over my abs and chest.
“So if I stripped you now, I wouldn’t find you wet because of me?” I deliberately didn’t touch her, moving me hands away and letting my eyes read her instead.
“Dry as a bone.”
“Prove it.”
“Let me go to the bathroom…”
I laughed, catching her hands and flipping us, leaving me pressed over her. She was everything at that moment, hair wild and lose, cheeks reddened and her lips swollen from easy kisses. I knew that underneath her clothes her body was lithe and supple, always a dancer.
“You’re a terrible liar, Simone Wood. Maybe I should unwrap you myself, just to check.”
She giggled and started to move underneath me, pretending to try to break free but actually making it easy for me to strip away her clothes, throwing them onto the floor next to us. I’d had lovers, girlfriends even, since Rebecca and I had split up. I hadn’t been a monk. Some of the women I’d been with had been possibilities for something more than a good hard fuck, but I hadn’t felt anything for them like I was feeling now.
Simone naked, bare in front of me, was causing a fire to burn inside my chest. She was petite and vulnerable, a tiger wrapped up in porcelain skin with wild eyes and nothing seemed more important that making her the centre of the world.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I bent my head and nipped at her neck, tasting the salt from her skin. “I’m too busy looking at you. You’re beautiful.”
The way she shifted suggested she didn’t agree.
“Sim, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen.”
“You’re such a seducer.” She pulled my top over my head.
I threw it to one side and unbuttoned my jeans, kicking them off. I’d thought about the first time I fucked Simone, imagining it to be hot and hard, somewhere impulsive because she ignited that passion inside that I’d forgotten about amongst the menu of other things that were constantly taking up my time. Instead, we were in my room, having to be quiet because of the fifteen-year-old a few metres away and she was nervous.
“I’m really not. I’m just a man who thinks tonight’s one of the luckiest nights of his life.”
She looked away from me, her hands holding onto my arms. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
Nerves. I understood them. My successful chef who had achieved so much was thrown by this, by us.
“We can stop.”
She shook her head. “No. Just don’t judge me.”
“How about we have a first time and then lots and lots of practice?”
