I cry out with the power of my release. Shaking in his arms, I bury my face in his neck to breathe in his scent as I ride out my orgasm.
HOLY CHRIST. LAINIE’S ORGASMSare fucking spectacular. I hold her close and rub her back as her breathing returns to normal. My dick is throbbing in my jeans, and it was a damn miracle I didn’t come right after she did, but somehow, I held it together. As she peels her body away from mine, I brace myself for her regret.
“Simon, we—”
“Get each other off? Are combustible? Have insane chemistry?”
“Should talk.”
“Agreed. Can we do it naked?”
She laughs and leans her head back and cradles her hand against my cheek. I don’t want to move. Ever.
“I’m afraid not. This is surely a clothes-on conversation, especially considering the fact that I just had one of the best orgasms of my life, and you didn’t even touch me.”
“If you insist.”
“I do, but, God, that was…”
I take in the sight of her. She’s still straddling me, her hair is a gorgeous mess, and her cheeks are flushed. I breathe in the sex-filled scent of her and damn near lose my mind. “You’ve got about two seconds to get off my lap before I give you a replay of the last ten minutes.”
She looks torn as she pulls herself away and rights her skirt. “I’m just going to freshen up a bit and then maybe we can grab some lunch or something? There’s a deli a few blocks away? Or McConnell’s is close. That’s probably a better place to talk.”
“Don’t want to stay here?” I can’t help but tease her. I’m not exactly sure what had her running scared, but if I can keep this playful, sexy mood, I’m sure as hell going to.
“If we stay here, there’s no way we’re talking. Or, at least we won’t be saying anything of substance. And I really want to explain about yesterday. I owe you an apology.”
Shit.This could be good, or it could be bad.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, well, thanks, but...the thing is, if this talk... if it’s just an apology or explanation or whatever, then I don’t need to hear it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been curious as hell since I woke up alone yesterday, but…”
“But?”
“But, in the last 48 hours, I’ve gotten pretty addicted to the noises you make when you come. And though that’s rapidly becoming my favorite past-time, I’m only talking if we’ve got something to talk about. If you just want to say you’re sorry, then, ok, message received. But if you want to talk, then that means the door’s open. That means you’re not just shutting this down.”
She takes a step toward me and pulls me up to stand. She’s by no means short, but I seem to tower over her. She looks up at me, and there’s hope there.
“Door’s open, I promise. It’s just a really old door, you know? And it squeaks and…”
“That’s a terrible metaphor.” I smack her ass lightly. “Be quick. I’m starving. And I can’t wait to talk.”
SITTING ACROSS FROM SIMONin a booth at McConnell’s is far less nerve-wracking than I’d anticipated. And, really, why am I so surprised? He’s one of my favorite people to talk to, and we had so much fun Friday night, even before the sex fest. But, somehow, I feared that in the harsh light of day, at a fairly crowded restaurant, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. Like maybe there’d be flashing lights above my head with the caption “Past her prime” emblazoned for all to see. Ugh. My insecurities are rearing their vicious little heads. I take a deep breath and mentally shake my head, as if to figuratively wipe out all the negative thoughts. A peek over my menu reveals that he’s looking at me, but there’s no expectation there. He just seems to enjoy the view.
Our waitress, Kelli, if her name tag is any indication, approaches with more cheer and pep than the Dallas Cowboys’ Cheerleaders.
“What looks good to you, Lainie?”
The saucy flirt in me wants to reply, ‘You do,’ but I refrain because we’re in public. I give the menu another cursory glance, even though I know Ishouldorder the Caesar salad, no croutons, dressing on the side. I can hear my mom’s urging in my head. But, ugh, that sounds bland. And with Simon, I’m not as bland as usual. I’m even bold sometimes. So I throw caution to the wind and order what I would if I were eating with Molly. “I’m kind of starving. It feels like breakfast was a really long time ago. So… a cheeseburger it is. And… a strawberry milkshake, too.”
He smiles, takes my menu and hands it to Kelli. “Same for me, but double the fries, please. Oh, and chocolate instead of strawberry.”
Kelli reports that our drinks will be out shortly and then she bounces off to her next table, though I swear her gaze lingers on Simon a little longer than necessary. But really, I can’t blame her.
We’re alone again, and I’m about to open my mouth and begin my explanation and subsequent apology, but Simon’s words are quicker than mine.
“I hated you at first.”
What the hell? He’s smiling, and he likes to have all the sex with me, so I know his attitude changed at some point, but that’s a hell of a conversation starter. My confusion is painted across my face, I’m sure.
