London Falling (27 page)

“Simon?” she asked.

His hands stilled. “Yes?” he said. His voice sounded strained, which she supposed was a good sign.

Now that she had his attention, she wasn’t sure what to say. If she were bolder, she’d tell him to just take her now, but she wasn’t that confident. Nor was she entirely certain he hadn’t changed his mind, although the hardness where he straddled her legs gave her some level of reassurance. Instead, she pushed her hands against the mattress so she could flip over. He lifted his legs slightly so she could turn, but he settled his weight back onto his knees on either side of her body.

He held himself with a tenseness that belied his relaxed posture, although his eyes were dark and filled with concern. He’d taken off his shoes, but other than that he was still fully dressed. Her gaze drifted lower. And fully aroused. At the sight, all of her embarrassment went out the window.

“This is great and everything, but when are we going to get to the good stuff?”

His lips turned up at one corner. “The good stuff?”

She nodded.

His laugh made his eyes light up. He leaned over until his eyes were mere inches from hers. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he whispered, his breath tingling across her mouth. She parted her lips, but he was already working his way down her neck. She turned her head, giving him greater access.

His lips moved to her breast. He kissed her through the thin silk of her bra. The sensation of his wet tongue over the smooth pink silk made her nipple tighten. He played with her for a while, then trailed kisses down her ribcage. His fingers found the button on her pants and then he slowly slid down the zipper. A rush of heat pooled in her lower belly.

Simon kissed the spot where her panties met her bare skin.

Oh yes. Now they were getting somewhere.

But Simon shifted up until he was at her chest, kissing all around the silk of her bra, but not touching the most sensitive spot. She twisted so her nipple was underneath his mouth. He moved his mouth and kissed the curve of her breast, above the silk. She twisted again. He moved to the sensitive area at the base of her neck. She was dying here, didn’t he see that?

His attention returned to her mouth. She lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers. He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth.

She sighed. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her. The kiss went on and on. She was losing control from his kisses. She pressed her hips against his to let him know she was ready.

He lifted his body from hers, kneeling at the end of the bed. Cool air rushed to fill the space where his body had been. Why was he stopping?

He tugged her socks off and then grabbed both her ankles. He looked up at her. “Ready for the good stuff?” he asked.

She nodded.

In an instant, her pants were tossed to the floor next to his shirt and sweater. He trailed his hands up her calves, around her knees to her thighs.

His lips followed. Her legs parted, but he avoided the area she wanted him to touch the most and turned his attention to her bra.

“I like this, but I really think it needs to go, don’t you?” He unhooked the front clasp and slid it from her shoulders, and then sat back and stared. “I can’t keep my hands off you,” he said. He licked and kissed her breasts while he slipped one hand down her ribcage to her matching panties. He touched her through the thin silk, sliding his finger up and down until she was writhing in agony. He lifted his hand, but instead of removing her panties, he cupped her other breast.

“I thought you said we were getting to the good stuff`?” Her words came out in short gasps of breath.

“Is this not good?” He chuckled. “I can stop if you don’t like it.” He sat up and then stood up next to the bed.

“No!” she said.

But instead of stopping, he stripped down, until he stood before her naked and completely aroused. She released a whoosh of breath. He was so beautiful. Every muscle was toned and strong. She wanted to explore his body like he was exploring hers. She reached out to him.

“Later,” he said. “This time is for you.”

He climbed back onto the mattress, settling between her legs. He grasped her knees and tugged them apart. He kissed the spot just behind her left knee.

Moved another inch up her thigh.

Smoothed his fingers along the muscles of her thighs.

Kissed the inside of her thigh.

She was going to explode and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

He gently trailed his fingers underneath the elastic of her panties. But then he slid them out and gently cupped her rear. Just do it already! she wanted to shout. He leaned down and kissed her through her panties. She gasped. What was it about him and her undergarments? Why wouldn’t he just take them off?

For once, he obeyed her silent wishes, because he stripped off her panties and settled between her legs. She knew about this, but she’d never experienced it first-hand. She never thought she could do it. She thought it would be too embarrassing to have someone see her like this, but at this moment she didn’t care. She spread her legs wider. And it was wonderful. All of her energy coiled into a massive storm at the apex of her thighs. A kiss. A lick. A suck.

Her body exploded. She shuddered and shook, while he continued to please her. When her body finally calmed, he settled himself over her and entered her. She wrapped her arms around his back and lifted her hips to meet his every thrust. He held her eyes in his gaze and she couldn’t look away. The electricity built again, until finally she exploded a second time, dragging him with her.

Slowly she became aware of her breath coming in short, hard gasps. And the weight of Simon’s body pressed against her. He had buried his head in her shoulder and he gave her a light nip with his teeth.

That had been amazing. Better than amazing. He pulled her to her side, but kept his arms around her. He made her feel so protected. As though she could forget all of her worries and let him take care of her. She wanted to bury her head on his chest and never come out again.

The pressure built up behind her eyes. Not now. Not after that. But a tear escaped before she could stop it. She felt the wetness slide down her cheek to the spot where Simon’s face snuggled up against hers.

Please don’t let him feel that. But her prayer went unanswered, because Simon tensed and then pulled away.

He wiped the tear off her cheek with his thumb and raised concerned eyes up to hers. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything around the mountain of tears in her throat, so she shook her head.

“I could have sworn you enjoyed it. At least twice,” he said, watching her reaction with intensity.

More tears formed behind her eyes, and she clenched her jaw to try to stop them.

“I’m so sorry, Aimee. I wanted this to be good for you. What went wrong?”

The concern in his eyes was her undoing. “N-nothing was w-wrong.” The tears fell in a waterfall down her face. “It was W-wonderful.”

If anything he looked even more concerned. “Then why are you crying?”

“I don’t know!” she cried, before burying her face in his shoulder and letting the tears gush. She was so happy that she’d finally had sex. Great sex.

And here she was bawling like a baby. She didn’t understand it! What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be normal for once in her life?

Simon held her close and stroked her wild hair. He didn’t try to get her to stop, or make shushing noises. He just stroked her gently, making her feel like the most loved creature on earth. His hands didn’t even pause when they touched her ratty hair. She cried so hard that her body shook and she couldn’t catch her breath. The whole time, Simon just held her.

Her tears slowed, and she was able to catch her breath. Simon slipped from the covers, went into the bathroom, and returned with a box of tissues.

He pulled out about fifty and handed them to her.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She knew she had to look like a nightmare. That was one problem with having such pale skin. It turned red and blotchy if she even thought about crying. And she’d done way more than just think about it.

Simon crawled back onto the bed and pulled her into a huge, warm hug.

“You’re wonderful, do you know that?”

Aimee shook her head. “I’m not,” she said.

“You are,” he said, while he ran his hand up and down her back.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.

He pulled back and cocked his head to the side. “Because I care about you. Why else?”

A sob escaped her throat. She thought she was done crying, but a second round of tears had her gasping for air.

“Why did that make you cry again?” Simon asked.

Aimee yanked another tissue out of the box and held it to her nose. She hated that she was crying in front of him. A fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm her. Great. She was crying because she was crying.

“Aimee?” Simon asked. “Why did my saying that I cared about you make you cry again?”

“Because no one’s ever said that before!” she wailed. Then she buried her head in his shoulder. “N-no one’s every said they cared about me.”

“What about your grandmother?” Simon’s voice rumbled in the hair where she’d buried her head against him.

“Gram?” Aimee choked on a half-laugh, half-cry. “Gram never cared about me. There was a time that I thought …” she trailed off.

“How do you know she didn’t care for you?” Simon asked. “She raised you, right? She wouldn’t have taken you in if she didn’t care for you.”

“She thought I was a burden. And then, when she got sick, she saw it as a way for me to repay her for all the things she did for me while I was younger.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Of course not. How could you understand? You grew up with both your parents and weren’t shoved on anyone. I never even met my dad.” She pulled away, but Simon continued to comfort her. He placed her hand between both of his and rubbed his thumb over the spot between her thumb and forefinger.

She stared at his hands. “I told you my mom was an alcoholic, but I never told you she was also a druggie. According to her, the wonderful story of my dad is that she slept with him so he’d give her a line of his cocaine. She didn’t even know his name. He was just some guy she met at a party.

“Luckily, she wasn’t that into drugs at that point, or else I would have been more messed up than I already am. She used to tell me how much she sacrificed for me, and how her entire pregnancy sucked because she couldn’t party.”

Simon switched to her other hand. “She must have cared for you to give up something she desperately wanted.”

“She had a funny way of showing it. She just dragged me around from party to party while she got high and slept with whatever guy had the biggest stash. Blah, blah, blah. You’ve heard it all before. It’s like the worst after-school special. Girl with alcoholic parent grows up too fast.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though.”

Aimee shook her head. She didn’t like to think about her mom.

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know. One day, I came home from school and all of my things were in a bag by the front door. We took a cab to Capitol Hill, where we pulled up in front of this big house with trees and a huge wrap-around porch I asked her where we were, and she said ‘My mother’s.’” Aimee laughed.

“Which was just ridiculous, because up until that point she’d told me her mother was dead.”

“How old were you then?”

“Eleven? Twelve? Seventh grade. I must have been twelve. Anyway, she dragged me up the porch steps, rang the bell, and when Gram answered the door, she said, ‘Here she is,’ and turned and walked away.” Aimee had to pause to blow her nose again. “It wasn’t until Gram enrolled me in school the next week that I figured out she wasn’t planning to come back and get me.”

Simon shook his head. “That’s terrible.”

“I snuck over to our apartment after school that day, and she was gone.

No one knew where she went.”

“Has she ever given you an explanation for why she did that?”

Tears threatened to fall, but Aimee clenched her teeth against them. She took a deep breath. “I never saw her again. She died a few years later in California. A motorcycle accident. Both she and the guy driving had been doing coke and drinking.”

“Bollocks.” Simon shook his head. “And your grandmother?”

“I was just a maid and a chef and an errand runner to her. I think she was trying to punish my mother by punishing me, or maybe she was trying to work me so hard so I wouldn’t end up like my mother. Who knows? Either way, I spent my whole life trying to prove her wrong, but she never saw it.

When she got cancer, I was stupid enough to quit school to take care of her. I thought she’d finally appreciate me. But all she did was complain about everything. I gave up my scholarship for her, and when she died, she left her house and all her money to the Arboretum. Nothing like being told that a bunch of plants meant more to your only living relative than you.” Aimee had worked hard to get rid of the bitterness, but it was still there in a tiny ball in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into a comfortable hug.

Aimee pulled away. “I don’t want your pity.” She’d had enough of that in her life.

Simon wrinkled his eyebrow in confusion. “I don’t pity you.” Aimee crossed her arms. “I don’t.”

“I don’t need your pity. I’m fully capable of managing my own life. Do you know how expensive college is these days? I’ve paid for it all on my own.

Tuition. Rent. Food. Computer. Bus passes. Medical Bills.” She ticked everything off on her fingers. “And now when I’m so close to succeeding, I got stuck here.”

“Medical bills?”

Aimee sighed. “I got pneumonia a few years ago.”

“And of course you’ve got no insurance?”

Aimee didn’t bother answering.

“That’s why you have three jobs and no time for friends? No wonder you got pneumonia. You work way too hard.”

“Look, I don’t need your pity. I’m doing fine on my own.”

He took her by the shoulders. “You’ve no idea. I don’t pity you, Aimee. I admire you. Most people would have crumbled from the pressure, but you never give up. Look at your grand fairy cake plan. You’re strong, courageous, and I admire that in you.”