Fly with Me (29 page)

Scott groaned
again.

“Ignore him,”
Ash said firmly. “He’s scared he’s going to balls it up.”

“I thought it
was a simple wedding?” Elissa queried.

“It is.
So
simple. He’s just panicking.”

“Living
together only would fix that,” Elissa suggested wickedly.

Immediately
Scott’s head shot up, his gaze narrowing on her before flicking to
Ash. “Not in this lifetime. I’m getting a ring on that finger if it
kills me. The rehearsal is this arvo, we’ll
all
be there. On
time.”

“Well,”
observed Ash dryly, “if I’d only known what buttons to push
before-”

“Don’t push
it, honey.”

Laughing, Ash
blew him a kiss.

Elissa took
that as her cue to leave, going to the bathroom to shower. Hanging
her dressing gown and nightie on the hook behind the door, she’d
just started adjusting the temperature with the taps when Ash
knocked on the bathroom door. “Elissa!”

“Yeah?”

“We’re
leaving, be back for lunch. There’s a load of washing in the
machine if you want to toss your clothes in as well. Just turn it
on and I’ll hang it out later.”

“No worries.
I’ll do it and hang it out.

“Was hoping
you’d say that!”

“Scott does
know what kind of woman he’s marrying, right?”

“Nope, it’s a
surprise.” There was a squeal, a scuffle, a giggle, silence for
several seconds, and then Scott’s deep tone called, “I sure as heck
know what I’m getting and I’m keeping her. See you later.”

“’Bye.”
Grinning, Elissa stepped into the tub.

The water was
warm, the steam billowing into the room in the chill morning air.
It promised to be a warm day, but the mornings and nights were
definitely chilly. Winter was on its way.

Washing her
hair, she watched the suds go down the plug hole. Hmmm, looking for
a job in Gully’s Fall was kind of appealing. She had kind of made
friends, she liked the people she’d met so far, she did kind of
feel at home here. Maybe it wasn’t such a silly idea. Why not? It
was a small town, as far from the city as she could get, it was
peaceful. Well away from her family, which was a bonus. She could
just live here and be forgotten.

Oh boy, pity
party. No, not forgotten. And certainly she didn’t include Moz in
that thought. Man, she really had to phone him soon.

Massaging the
conditioner into her hair, she pondered. Could she live in a place
like this? She’d only been here a short time. But yeah, she liked
it. Besides, getting a job didn’t mean staying here forever, right?
It could be a pit stop if needed while she decided what she wanted
to do.

Geez, bit late
for a gap year kind of thing. Gap year in life? Why the hell not?
It wouldn’t hurt to do a little poking around, anyway.

Finishing the
shower quickly she dried off, applying deodorant before wrapping
the thin dressing gown around her. Probably should think about
getting a winter one if she was seriously contemplating staying in
Gully’s Fall.

If. Big if.
Lots to think about.

One of the
more disturbing things to think about was Simon. He lived here,
worked here, and there was something between them. Kind of. Hell if
she knew, really.

Looking into
the mirror as she blow dried her hair, she bit her lip. At least
she could be honest with herself. She didn’t know what the hell he
was thinking or feeling. Sometimes she thought he wanted her, felt
something for her, saw her as more than a woman with a generously
curved figure and so many insecurities she didn’t know if she was
coming or going.

She knew what
she felt, though. Attraction. Strong attraction. She’d only known
the redheaded fireman for a couple of days but she’d spent enough
time in his company to know how her body reacted to him. Every time
she was close to him, she felt his warmth. Every time he touched
her, she felt the contact like a delicious burn, felt it seep
through her to touch her low, deep, making her insides swim, her-
“Shit.” Time to force those increasingly carnal thoughts aside.

Switching the
hair dryer off, she gathered the thick curls up with the intentions
of pulling it into a bun when she suddenly released it, letting it
tumble free.

Her mother had
always talked her into putting her hair up, insisting it gave her a
sophisticated air. Calum had wanted it up for the shows. The only
time she’d let it free was when she was with Moz or she’d snuck
away to sing at the pubs, relaxing and enjoying herself, being the
person she wanted to be, dictated to by no one.

The only other
person who had ever released her hair was Simon.

Simon.

Even just the
thought of those long fingers plucking the clip from her hair had
her swallowing, the memory of his hand at her back, the way he paid
attention to her, his laugh, his happiness, the twinkle in his
eyes, had her smiling a little. The way he looked at her so
levelly, his gaze probing, seeing further inside her, threatening
to draw her secrets forth. His caring.

And then last
night…oh boy. Running her fingers through the curls, she bit her
bottom lip. Oh man, he’d been someone else, yet still Simon.
Someone more dominating, more stern, more teasing but in a wholly
hot way. There had been a definite control in the way he’d acted,
deliberateness in his movements.

Even when he’d
been teasing her, the challenge had been there in his eyes, daring
her to make a scene, forcing her to swallow her angry words and sit
between his legs. Quick as a flash, his eyes had danced wickedly
when he’d asked her for food, the silent amusement at her annoyance
making that twinkle so devastatingly sexy.

And the way
he’d looked at her when they’d passed each other in the hallway,
his darkly promised “Later, you’re going to explain that look to
me.” He didn’t ask, didn’t request, simply stated it, a thread of
steel under his normally light tone.

Did it make
her a very sick puppy that that thread of steel, that quiet
determination in his eyes, that hint of threat had made her insides
dip? Made her wonder how far he’d go to get his answer?

Crap, Simon
was proving to be a man who both unnerved and thrilled her. He made
her want, made her laugh, made her thoughtful, made her want to
walk on the wild side and taste that freedom, throw her inhibitions
away and just
feel
and
live
. Enjoy life the way he
did.

Even as
annoyed with him as she was, she still found him attractive. That
proof was in the fact that her blood ran a little more warmly, a
little more thickly

Bracing her
hands on the basin, she took a deep, steadying breath.

Face it, she
might find him attractive, but after the way she’d given him the
evil eye the night before and then deliberately dodged him by
cravenly hiding behind Ash and Scott - well, not literally, but she
might as well have - Simon was probably not intending to come near
her again.

Taking another
deep breath, she threw her head back, straightened and turned. What
had happened, had happened. No amount of skulking in the bathroom
thinking of what probably wasn’t, certainly was not going to help
her. She had plans.

Grabbing her
nightie, she opened the door and strode out, only to come to a stop
upon seeing the tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against the door
frame of her bedroom, arms crossed over a muscular chest, long,
jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles.

Dressed in the
same clothes as the previous night, Simon’s gaze slid slowly down
her figure before lifting to meet her eyes. Her insides grabbed,
belly dipped, heat crawling along her spine.

His eyes were
hot. Really hot.

Elissa’s heart
hammered in her chest as she clutched the nightgown tighter in her
hands. She could only stare at him, watch as he pushed upright away
from the wall and started coming towards her without shifting his
eyes from hers.

The man didn’t
walk, he prowled. He prowled closer, advancing without hesitation
or speed, reaching out as he drew nearer to fist his hand gently in
the lapels of her dressing gown, long fingers sliding between the
valley of her breasts, curling so his knuckles brushed her skin,
and then he was drawing her to him.

She went,
trapped in his burning gaze, the blatant carnal desire he felt for
her so hotly evident.

Every thought,
every doubt she’d had vanished beneath his gaze, every desire
rising at his nearness, his strength, the way he bent his tall body
towards her, his other hand coming to rest in the small of her
back, big hand spreading out to press her to him.

The nightgown
fell from her hands as she lifted them to rest against his chest,
then God help her, but she let herself go. Let the doubts vanish,
the fear, the feeling of loss and aloneness as Simon kissed
her.

So hot, so
decadent, so erotic.

He didn’t kiss
her. He took her. His mouth moulded to hers, firm lips seeking,
pressing, tongue tracing demandingly, and she let him in, opened to
him, felt his taste sweep through her in a dizzying rush.

His hand on
her back pulled her harder against him, his other hand leaving her
dressing gown to twine into her hair in a firm but gentle hold,
angling her head to allow him greater access to her mouth.

Oh God, his
strength, his heat, surrounded her, made her feel so delicate, so
dainty, even though she was anything but. She melted into him, for
once uncaring, willing to let this man lead her where she wanted to
go, where he so unashamedly wanted to go.

She’d go as
far and as hard as he wanted.

When Simon
lifted his head, his eyes burned down into hers with desire so
blistering she felt as though his very gaze scorched her.

“Lis?” His
voice was deeper, a touch harsher, filled with need.

“Yes.”

He didn’t ask
again, didn’t try to give either of them breathing space, just
kissed her with a ferocity that both thrilled and alarmed her in a
deliciously erotic way. At the same time he turned them, walked her
backwards, made her cling to him.

When he
stopped and lifted his head, she gasped in air, glanced around,
recognised that they were in her bedroom. Looking up at him, her
breath caught at the rapacity glittering in his eyes, the firmness
of his lips, the set of his jaw.

“You’re
beautiful.” His hands settled on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing her
skin, making her aware that her dressing gown had slipped, the
sleeves caught around her upper arms. “Lis. So beautiful.”

His gaze
dropped, followed the line of her breasts as he stepped back, his
hands sliding down her arms to stop at the silken sash holding the
dressing gown closed at her waist. Without hesitation, he slid the
knot free.

Suddenly
fearful, so self-conscious in the daylight, she grabbed his hand,
trapping it against the gown, preventing it from opening.

Those thick
lashes lifted, his pupils dilated with desire as he looked at
her.

Elissa’s
breath caught. She wasn’t a slim girl, a woman with a figure to
make a man pant. She knew what she was, her hour-glass figure
voluptuous, thighs rounded, belly soft. If he saw her, saw
all
of her… She swallowed.

Simon just
continued to look at her, not forcing her, not saying anything. But
his eyes softened, a small smile playing around his lips, then he
did the unexpected, bending down to press his lips to her brow.

Closing her
eyes, she drew in his scent, felt his warmth.

This is
Simon
.

His lips
trailed down, a soft kiss to each of her eyelids, a kiss to the tip
of her nose before whispering across her cheek to press a soft kiss
to the corner of her mouth, another to the centre, a third to the
other corner of her mouth.

She felt like
she could drown in his kisses, those both hot and hard, and those
sweet and gentle. Just give up to them, float away, be the woman
she wanted to be.

The coolness
of the morning replaced the warmth of the dressing gown, the sudden
shift and slide of the silk slipping down her arms revealing her
nakedness, and she closed her eyes, bit her lip, inhaled
unsteadily. Steeled herself.

“Lis.” Her
name was a warm puff of his breath on her lips.

Opening her
eyes, she found him so close to her, close enough for her to see
her reflection in his hazel irises.

Did he feel
her tremble as well?

Yes. His hands
swept soothingly up and down her arms in calming caresses.

“Whatever
you’re thinking,” he said softly, deeply, “don’t.”

“You don’t
know what I’m thinking,” she whispered.

“Don’t be shy.
Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be anything but yourself.”

“Easy for you
to say. You’re perfect.”

His smile was
a touch sad, so fleeting it was gone before she registered it
completely. “No, I’m not perfect. None of us are. But what we are
to each other is as perfect as it can be.”

“Simon…”

“Fly with me,
Lis,” he whispered huskily. “Fly free with me. Let yourself go. I
won’t let you fall.”

Of all the
things he could say it was this that had her nodding, had her
sucking in a sudden breath and flick her hands, releasing the gown
that last bit so that it fell around her feet.

Now she was
naked in front of him. Try as she might, she still couldn’t help
the slight cringe inward when his hands trailed up her arms. Her
rounded arms. Not toned, not cut with feminine muscle, just soft
and round.

Simon didn’t
drop his gaze, just looked into her eyes, trapping her in the
molten heat of his desire.

That heat grew
as his hands cupped her shoulders then slowly slid down, spreading
out over her upper chest, tracing her collarbones before sliding
further down, further still, finger tips light, a little path of
fire flickering wherever he touched.