fantasized otherwise.
It didn’t matter.
She wanted the distraction he’d hinted at—no, she needed the distraction. Knowing her cat had been purposefully killed and cut had been bad enough. Believing that two homeless men had been killed, the second held down and initials cut into his back, because of her? It was too much to bear. As soon as they left this beach and drove home, she’d have to deal with it, but she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Not now.
Not with Simon’s warm body a fraction of an inch away from hers. Not when the ocean breeze carried his heady scent into her nostrils.
Now she wanted to forget everything. Everything but him.
“Simon?” she murmured. Her hand fell away from her body. She’d undone the last button, but didn’t have the nerve to strip her blouse off completely. She stared at his neck, where his own button-down shirt lay open, exposing the beating pulse there.
He raised a hand and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “What is it, Nina?”
“What do you say? Will you distract me some more?”
He stared her. Withdrew his hand, then one by one, closed the buttons on her blouse. When he was done, he said, “Let’s go.”
Defeat and disappointment crashed through her, and she blushed with embarrassment.
Until he said, “We’re going to a hotel.”
Then her blush became all about relief. Anticipation.
And lust.
Beautiful, wonderful, life-affirming, utterly distracting lust.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ONCE SIMON DECIDED TO grant Nina the distraction she wanted, he approached the task with the same confidence and single-mindedness he applied to everything else he did in life. She couldn’t help but imagine him putting all that focus to mind-boggling good use on her body.
It took them less than twenty minutes to find a nice hotel and register for a room. As Simon locked the door and drew the curtains closed, blanketing the room in shadows, Nina quivered. Inside and out.
Distraction. Comfort. Passion. She didn’t care what word most accurately defined what was about to happen. She just knew she needed Simon.
Simon moved closer until they stood face-to-face next to the bed, their breathing loud in the quiet room. Mindful that she’d asked for this, that she needed to remind him he wasn’t taking advantage of her, she placed a hand on his chest and slowly ran her fingers down, brushing a fingernail over his now hardened nipple.
Thankfully, her touch appeared to prod him into action. He stepped closer until she had to tip her head back to keep their gazes locked. Raising his hands, he cupped her face, his thumbs gently smoothing against the edges of her jaw, stretching out the sexual tension until it was almost unbearable and she couldn’t stifle the whimper that escaped her. His eyes darkened and a flush rode high on his cheekbones just before he lowered his head and kissed her. Softly. Just the barest pressure, which had her frowning and moving closer. Pressing harder. He smiled, but that smile quickly disappeared when she flicked her tongue out, savoring his taste.
She needed him.
He sucked in a breath and pulled her even closer, his mouth slanting against hers. His tongue curled around hers, urging her to play again, and she eagerly complied. She hummed with pleasure, the sound turning into a disappointed gasp when he pulled away far too soon.
“Shh,” he whispered and began kissing her neck, making his way downward even as he undid the buttons of her blouse. He stopped with his face resting lightly against her cleavage, and she looked down and tangled her hands in his hair. His eyes shut, he butted his cheek against her as if he was a cat—savoring the softness of her skin against his.
Nina gasped, and then arched her head back, exposing her throat to him. Sexual arousal charged through her like an electrical current. “Make love to me. Please.”
A low moan ripped from somewhere deep inside him. Kissed her throat. Bit it. Sucked.
“You smell good,” he murmured. “You feel heavenly. Your skin tastes so sweet. Do you taste just as sweet everywhere else?”
A warm rush of sensation sizzled straight to her core. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she dared him.
His grin was pure masculine wickedness. With a quick efficient twist of his fingers, he undid her bra and pushed the cups away.
She hissed when he covered one nipple with his big palm and the other with his mouth. He sucked softly at first, then more deeply. She felt the tug between her thighs and whimpered. She ached. Felt empty. Longed to be