Simon Says (Friends and Lovers) (2 page)

"Oh, sweetheart," he leaned his forehead against the glass, "I haven’t wanted to get to know someone this badly in a long time."

There was another brief silence and then Gwen saw a thin white card slide under her door as he disappeared from view. She reached for it and was surprised to see it was a business card with just a name and phone number … Simon Cain, (555) 236-8654.

"Listen, that’s my name and number. I live next door here in the end unit facing the river," Simon continued.

Gwen squeezed her eyes closed and groaned softly. Could it get any worse? Not only had she thrown herself at a stranger, he lived next door to her and there wouldn’t be any escaping him.

"Sweetheart, you listening?"

She sighed heavily and finally looked up at him. "No," she said forlornly.

"No, you won’t have dinner with me or no, you weren’t listening?" confusion showed on his face.

"No, I wasn’t listening."

"So, you will have dinner with me?"

"No … I mean … what?" she just stared blankly at him.

"I invited you to have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"I don’t think that’s a good idea," Gwen said shaking her head.

"I do. And, I’m not taking no for an answer. After all, you owe me," he grinned at her.

"Owe you for what?" she cried indignantly.

"For knocking me down. My shirt has a hole in it now," he said with a mocking pout all the while laughing because he knew she knew he was playing it up for effect.

"You can’t guilt me into dinner," she said glaring up at him from the floor.

"Oh, I think I can," he laughed and his smile lit his face. Those sapphire blue eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked like the cat that had just gotten the canary.

"I’ll expect you at 8pm sharp tomorrow night. I hope you like Italian."

He disappeared from her sight then. How dare he
order
her to dinner! Gwen leaped to her feet and rushed for the door flinging it open, but she was too late. He was gone.

Simon had just set turned the fire down under the marinara sauce so it could reduce when his doorbell rang. Adrenaline coursed through his body and his hand jerked. The top he’d been placing gently on the pan clattered down unsteadily.

He couldn’t believe it. He was actually nervous. His heart was racing and he took several deep breaths to calm down as he walked to the door. A quick look in the hallway mirror told him he’d managed to escape any telltale tomato splatters on his crisp white button down and jeans. Slacks would have been more appropriate, but then he always wore jeans. They were his uniform. For his part, Simon was dressed up. It was a date after all.

He took a steadying breath and opened the door. He shouldn’t have bothered. She was stole it right back. She was stunning in black silk. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose knot baring her neck. She wore a simple tube-styled top. It was strapless and appeared to be held up by a black satin ribbon tied in an artful bow over her breasts. There was a small cutout under the bow that showed the barest hint of cleavage. It was as if her breasts were a present just waiting to be unwrapped.

The skirt hugged her curves, flaring out just a bit at the hemline which hit just at her knees. Her legs were covered in sheer stockings and the stiletto heels she wore set off her long, shapely legs.

Images of those stocking clad legs wrapped around his body flashed through Simon’s brain and his body tightened painfully. He was grateful he’d picked his softest jeans because right now the weave of the denim was imprinting itself in the skin of his dick.

"Um, are you going to let me in?" she asked. That smoky voice wrapped around him. It was thick and honeyed just like her hair.

His cock jerked. Simon was responding like a horny teenager. He needed to get a grip on himself.

"First, we have some unfinished business," he said with a smile as he blocked her entrance into his house.

"Oh?" her eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but she waited patiently. Her green eyes scanning his face as if looking for something

"Your name?" he said. "I still don’t know your name."

She flushed scarlet and Simon could resist a grin. She recovered quickly, however, straightened her shoulders and put out her right hand as if to shake his.

"Gwen Caldwell," she said almost authoritatively, but then a sheepish look crossed her face ruining the effect. "Sorry."

Simon took the hand she offered and brought it up to his lips. He grazed her knuckles in a soft caress of warm breath and velvet skin. He felt a tremor run through her and satisfaction coursed through him. She was definitely affected by him and he would have her.

#

Dinner was unbelievable. Gwen couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so well. She was a disaster in the kitchen, not that you could tell from the extra padding she carried, but she could barely boil water. Her usual dinner was salad and sandwiches from the sub shop next to her store.

Simon, however, had turned out a veritable feast. There were ravioli stuffed with chicken and spinach, a Caesar salad and French bread stuffed with cheddar and spices. The marinara was rich and spicy and complemented the pasta perfectly.

When pressed, Simon admitted that his mother had forced him to learn to cook. She had told him that it would get him girls and he’d naturally been all about anything that would get girls to notice him. What he hadn’t realized was that his mother had ulterior motives which included his taking over dinner preparations as practice. He’d readily jumped to her defense, though, explaining how she had worked two jobs to take care of him after his father had died. His love for his mother showed in his face when he spoke of her.

Simon had proven to be an easy conversationalist talking readily about a variety of topics. He was clearly well read and loved music and active pursuits. Gwen found herself opening up and talking with him in a way that she didn’t normally do with someone she’d just met.

She was glad she’d decided to come. It had been a last minute decision. She’d resisted the idea giving herself all types of excuses, but then she’d realized that she was scared to come. And scared meant that she wanted to come. Gwen was many things, but she tried not to lie, especially to herself. She wanted to come and find out more about Simon Cain. The name had rattled around her brain ever since she’d picked up his card.

It was a hero name. Something you’d expect to find in Marvel comics. It had been a surprise to find out he designed video games for a living. With that name and body, she’d expected to find out he was an archaeologist searching for lost relics or a fighter pilot. She grinned inwardly as she realized her Harrison Ford crush was rearing its head.

"Gwen?" Simon looked at her expectantly.

"I’m sorry," she said giving him her full attention. "I was reflecting on what great meal that was. The best I’ve had in a very long time as a matter of fact."

"Thank you," he said with a courtly bow of his head. "I had suggested we take our wine out on the patio. I have an apple pie warming in the oven for dessert. It should be ready before long."

"I’d love that. Thank you."

Simon guided her outside with a warm hand on her lower back. His yard, like all of the yards on the block was gated with a privacy fence. The patio was tiled and had a large, wooden table and chairs with white canvas cushions on one side and a black and white striped wicker seating group on the other.

"Would you like to sit?" he gestured toward the bench with his wine glass.

"No," she said. "I think I’d like to stand for a while."

She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t want to be that close to him. The bench was just big enough for two and she’d be too close to him for comfort.

As it was, the intimacy of the setting was playing havoc with her senses. The moon was high and cast enough light that no candles or other lights were necessary. The shadows cocooned the edges of the patio, making her feel as if it was a stage and the night was the curtains sealing them away from the audience.

The memory of his touch burned her skin where he’d rested his palm. His touch had been firm and commanding and she’d instantly allowed him to take the lead. Her body still resonated from his touch. Her nipples were hard peaks under the thin material. She was grateful for the darkness which hid her arousal.

Her thong was soaked and her intimate muscles clenched as an image of Simon sucking her nipples flared brightly in her mind. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as if she could draw strength from the night sky. She had to get out of here.

He was too sexy. Too masculine. She found herself fighting to keep her distance from him and, frankly, he frightened her. Deeply. She knew that if she let him, Simon would rule her.

"You look like you’re thinking hard," Simon’s voice came from directly behind her and she jumped. She hadn’t heard him move.

Flushing deeply at being caught thinking dirty thoughts, she turned to face him and said, "I think I’d better go home now. Dinner was lovely, but I have to get up early tomorrow."

She made as if to go around him, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her belly. She froze. Her pussy throbbed and her breath caught in her chest.

"You’re running from me," he pulled her into his body so that she was pressed fully against him. He caged her, wrapping one arm around her waist. He stroked her back with his free hand. The velvet touch of his fingers on her bare skin was electric and she gasped as little shocks of pleasure erupted in his wake.

His body was hard against her. The muscles in his arms flexed and moved where she gripped him. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her breathing sped up and her nipples, already tight and aroused, were softly abraded by the silk of her top. Pleasure speared through her, flooding her core until she felt dampness on the tops of her thighs.

"No, I’m not," her voice was a breathless whisper and her words sounded false even to her.

Simon leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss so light it was almost a whisper. When he spoke, his warm breath tickled across her lips in a caress.

"Yes, you are," he murmured. "Why are you running from me, Gwen? I won’t hurt you."

The sound of her name in his scotch flavored voice sent thrills through her body. Her name sounded erotic and lush coming from him, rather than silly and eccentric as she’d always viewed it.

"Yes, you will," the words slipped out before she realized she’d even said it.

"No, sweetheart," he nuzzled her lips, gently nipping and licking at her bottom lip. "I won’t hurt you. I want you to feel only pleasure. Pleasure when I suck on your nipples. Pleasure when I eat your pussy. Pleasure when I bury my cock in you and fuck you. Pleasure when you come screaming my name."

His words sent tendrils of desire arcing through her. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened painfully. He wove a spell of sensual heat around her with each word, each touch. Gwen felt her resistance falter.

He nuzzled her cheek and ear with just the tip of his nose. His cock was hard and pressed lightly against her. He ground himself gently against her as he swayed them softly to and fro in a dance to a tune only he knew. The friction was teasing. His hardness pressed just enough for her to be aware of it, but not hard enough for her to truly
feel
it. It was maddening. She wanted to feel the press of him. That hard length that had been hinted at as he’d ground against her the day before.

"You want me, Gwen. Embrace it. I won’t hurt you," Simon’s voice was thick and gruff, but solemn as well. As if he, he was promising her something beyond his mere words, but she didn’t know what.

She did want him. She didn’t want to, but she did. Gwen strained to touch him more fully, but he restrained her keeping her from closing the distance between them. She moaned in frustration as she arched her body, brushing her erect nipples against him. The scrape of her nipples against his hard chest had her clitoris throbbing and her pussy clenching. His breath caught and she was gratified to know she had at least some effect on him.

Gwen could barely think. Simon invaded her senses. He teased her with the touch of his body, his male scent and intoxicating voice. He had barely touched her. His hand still stroked the skin of her back, yet he controlled her thoroughly and she burned for him.

She wanted him, wanted this, wanted to just let go and allow him to take her where he would. Do to her as he pleased. She didn’t want to think, she didn’t want to decide, she wanted only to submit and that terrified her.

She stiffened against him as sanity made a final attempt to penetrate the fog of desire clouding her mind. She vainly tried to pull away from Simon, but he held her firmly. His grip gentle, but steely.

She whimpered as her captivity inflamed her need. Her moisture soaked through her panties dampening the tops of her thighs.

"Let go, sweetheart. It will be all right."

Gwen lifted her eyes to his and opened her mouth to speak, but Simon pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

"Shhh, quiet." Gwen obeyed despite herself. Simon traced down her neck and over the swell of her breast. He drew smaller and smaller circles until he came to the hardened peak. He traced the tip before gently squeezing it between thumb and forefinger. He squeezed just to the point of pain before stretching the tender bud out from her body and releasing suddenly so that the skin snapped back.

She moaned deeply as fire burned a path between her nipple and clitoris. He repeated the motion again and again. Gwen was drowning in pleasure. Her clitoris was swollen and protruding. The satin of her thong, once pleasurable, now scraped the tight bundle adding new waves of sensation to the ones Simon generated.

She panted as she struggled to stay afloat amid the waves of heat and pleasure coursing through her. Simon licked into her mouth. His tongue plundered and explored. He tasted of wine and heat and need. His kiss was gentle, a delicate teasing counter-point to the rough pull of his fingers. The sensations blended together, suffusing Gwen with an unexpected peace.

Simon broke the kiss and raised her chin so that she looked directly into his face. The moonlit darkness turned his hair the deep brown of dark chocolate and the sapphire of his eyes appeared almost ebony in the darkness. The look on his face urgent, but tender. Compassionate even.

"Give yourself to me, Gwen. Let me have you." The words were gentle, but no less a command as he leaned in once more to kiss her.

All thoughts of fleeing dissolved as the need to obey him overwhelmed her resistance. She needed this more than she was willing to admit. She hadn’t had sex in three years, not since Paul, and she was starved for physical intimacy. She shuddered as horrible memories tried to surface and she ruthlessly shut the door on that time in her life.

Simon set Gwen away from him, placing her at arms length. His gaze burned as he studied her body from head to toe. The air was cool after the heat of his body and her skin prickled. She was panting after his kisses and her breasts jiggled with the movement of her lungs. The silk caressed her nipples and she whimpered pleadingly.

"Show me your breasts. Unwrap them for me, but don’t remove the top."