Authors: Glenna Sinclair
"… and I have a feeling that we're not going to be able to be together until you do."
It was a massive step forward in their relationship: the actual discussion of
having
a relationship. Everything about their courtship so far had been unusual and unorthodox, but even their worst disagreements had felt real in a way that Cara had never experienced before. She was uncertain of the future, but what she
was
certain of was that she wanted to walk into it with Simon. She wanted him to heal, and she wanted to aid in that healing, and the first step was being honest with her feelings.
The man looked at her for a long moment, until Cara started to second guess herself. Had that been too forward? Even after all they had been through together, was it possible that Simon didn't feel the same?
"I'm used to getting what I want, Cara," he finally replied.
"So you've told me, Simon," she said impatiently. "But I don't see how what I suggested…"
"I'm used to getting what I want, but I'm not above a compromise." The man pulled away from her to pluck a T-shirt off the top of his unpacked suitcase. "I'll go home to England. But you're coming with me."
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Cara moaned. "I've never even been out of the country before, much less in the middle of a term!My advisor is going to kill me."
She was ignoring the fact that she was currently seated onboard a private jet, which was something else she had never done, or even conceived of doing, before. The interior of the plane accessible to its passenger—or
passengers
, in this instance—was furnished as lavishly as the penthouse suite Cara had first found herself in two nights ago. It was narrower, of course, and the windows were still the porthole kind you would expect to find on a commercial liner… only here the curtains drawn across the windows flowed like red velvet beneath occasional gusts from the air conditioner. There were no cramped quarters or seatbelt restrictions; instead, there was a bedroom, a fully-equipped bathroom, a lounge, and most incredible of all, a Jacuzzi. The Jacuzzi was where Simon was currently reclining as the jet engine hummed beneath them.
Cara, who was out of her element and desperately trying to get back in, had settled for reclining a little more traditionally in a chair across from him. She had her laptop out, and was flipping through Melinda's toxicology reports. She knew how to parse such documents for information, but she still felt a little desperate while doing so.
"At least someone is feeling relaxed," she muttered with a mutinous glare out from beneath her rumpled blond hair at the—once again—half-naked billionaire. Simon smiled cheekily.
"The world is crumbling around me, love. I deserve a bit of respite before my trial by fire begins. And anyway, it's been a long time since I've used this jet."
"It's bigger than my dorm room," she said. She really needed to quit using that as her frame of reference. "Why does anyone need a Jacuzzi on an airplane?"
"You should give it a try." Simon patted the side of the massive roiling tub, and Cara sighed in defeat. If she stared at these pages any more she was going to go cross-eyed. "Come on, Cara. Live a little. You can save my reputation at a later time."
"At this point I'm not sure it can be saved." She set her laptop aside and rose, peeling off her clothes. She felt Simon's soulful blue eyes on her, and each patch of skin she revealed tingled where his gaze alighted. "The workup looks incredibly solid. The good news is that the autopsy doesn't look as if it's been tampered with. This means whoever murdered Melinda likely doesn't have accomplices on the outside; what's more, he or she is probably fairly complacent in the fact that the suicide ruling will stick. Have you spoken to anyone in your household about your suspicion of murder?"
"Not a soul," Simon conceded as he watched her step primly out of her panties. "Although there is an understanding that I feel responsible for what happened. That was the impression I gave for my departure."
"So we really are in this together, just me and you." Cara lowered herself down into the scalding water, wincing pleasurably. She hadn't brought a bathing suit with her to New York, which seemed precisely to Simon's liking. The billionaire set aside a glass of minted spring water and dragged her through the water into his arms. Cara felt his erection bob against the back of her thighs like a friendly reminder. She gave him a hard look. "Is that your control yoke, or are you just happy to see me?"
Simon raised a hand up out of the water to smooth her hair back from her forehead. She could already feel her scalp prickling with perspiration, and her blond locks were deflating. Cara arched backward to saturate her hair completely, before whipping the result coquettishly over her shoulder. If she splashed Simon in the process, she considered it a bonus. The Englishman forked a hand through his own hair, slicking it back against his skull as he watched her.
"God, Cara, you are incredible," he said unexpectedly, and she felt her face heat from more than just the Jacuzzi steam. "I mean it. Not only are you beautiful in repose, but everything you do only adds to the effect. Are you sure you don't have a boyfriend? Someone back at college?" He was earnest in his line of questioning, but Cara snorted.
"It's not that… I mean, there are a few guys in my major who have tried and struck out. I assume they warn all incoming students against me." She shifted herself backward until she was seated in his lap, enjoying the weightless feeling of being almost completely submerged in the water with him. "It's not that I don't date, I guess I would if I had the time. No, I
definitely
would make the time."
"Then why don't you?" Simon slipped his hands into the seam between her waist and the upper part of her thighs. It felt incredibly natural to have him close. Cara was reminded of all the fitful night she had spent outside of the reach of his touch and knew that she never, ever wanted to repeat it. Even though the nature of her dreams those months had been incredible and lascivious, waking up alone afterward had been nightmarish.
"I never met anyone that I could hold an extended conversation with," she said finally. "I mean, not the way I do. You may have noticed I like to fight with you."
"Nothing gets my blood racing like a good old verbal spar," Simon said. "You wouldn't believe how many people are afraid to properly in one with me on account of my money. It's as if they're afraid I'll immediately write them out of the will. These are strangers I used to meet on the street, Cara."
"Is that part of the appeal of living where you do?" she asked him. "The New England mansion. No one recognizes you?"
"No one in their right mind ever comes by," he reminded her.
"No one with a working car, you mean." Cara snorted.
"Yes. I came to America to get away from my trouble in England, as you know. But I must confess I've fallen in love with your country. I haven't seen much of it, but I would like to someday."
Cara's heart exulted at the thought. There had been the very real risk that upon returning to England, Simon would decide to remain indefinitely. But if love could draw him back across the ocean…
Cara shook her head to dispel the word, and only managed to succeed in whipping Simon in the face with her hair. The billionaire spluttered, but only pulled her against him harder when she threatened to move off his lap. It was getting harder to ignore the erection jutting up between her parted legs. Switching subjects seemed safest at this point. "How is your leg?" she inquired. Her hands vanished beneath the water to locate the limb that had been broken during the rainstorm. She pushed at the muscle and bone experimentally with the pads of her thumbs, and Simon groaned. The noise he made awakened a fluttery feeling in her stomach.
"Are you about to find out?" he asked hopefully. Cara tipped her head over one shoulder to look at him.
"Are you asking for a leg massage, Mr. Banning?"
"Oh. I like it when you call me that," he murmured as Cara set her hands to work on him. He raised a hand up out of the water to stroke the back of her skull as she teased the muscles beneath her. "You say it with the perfect amount of sarcasm and sexiness. It makes me hard."
"You were already hard," Cara pointed out. She dug her thumbs into a particularly tender area, and Simon groaned again. He dropped his hand from her hair and allowed his head to fall back to rest on the side of the tub. As Cara massaged him, she moved her own hands ever closer to the junction between his legs. She felt his cock twitch with anticipation, but refrained from touching it out right.
"Cara, have mercy," Simon moaned behind her.
"I'm thinking about whether or not I want a membership to the mile-high club," Cara replied. Simon's hands found her waist beneath the water once more and gripped her.
"You do," he answered for her.
"Whatever you say, Mr. Banning." She dragged her fingers through the nested curls of his pubic area and wrapped them securely around his length. Simon groaned explosively and bucked up beneath her, nearly raising Cara out of the water as he did so. She bounded back against him, but kept a firm hold of her prize. She licked her lips.
"What are you doing, Miss Langford?" He was trying to get in on the game, but Cara could see that his eyes were hooded, and that he was having trouble concentrating with her hands slowly dragging down his thick length.
"Just taking ownership of what's mine." She pumped him with her fingers, and Simon gasped his wordless agreement at her claim. She wondered what the sensation felt like for him, submerged in all that wet warmth. The insides of Cara's legs felt slick despite the water raging around her, and she slid them together experimentally. She could feel Simon's hand moving downward, downward, until his middle digit was pressing her between her legs. He rolled the pebble of flesh he found there in time with her strokes, and they may as well have been fucking, it felt so good.
"Do you remember that time in the pool?" Simon's question gusted across the back of her neck. "Our first day together and I nearly seduced you. Seeing you without clothes for the first time… laying my hands on you…"
Cara shuddered and sighed at the memory. Simon appeared eager to relive the terms of that afternoon now, and hooked his finger down inside her tight passage. He stroked her velvet insides, petting every pleasurable nerve ending until Cara could feel her core roaring to life. She shifted back against him, wordlessly begging him to go deeper. He complied, slipping two strong fingers inside her. He pumped them in and out of her slowly, and Cara moaned. The hot water of the Jacuzzi had relaxed every inch of her and succeeded in wiping her mind clean; she could concentrate wholly on what was happening to her now, and what Simon's intimate fondling was making her feel. He was
so
good with his hands. He always knew exactly what she wanted, and how to give it to her. When he slipped in a third finger to test her readiness, Cara nearly went wild.
She rocked back against him, milking the sensation of him filling her, even as her hand stroked him fervently. He was rock hard in the circle of her fingers, straining for something, anything, to bury himself in. Cara turned around, and Simon's fingers thrust into her with renewed energy.
"Ah!" She bit her lip in the aftermath of the exclamation, but her whole body was shaking with anticipation. He could easily finish her, right then and there, with that skillful hand alone. She almost thought he was mean-spirited enough to do it, to get her off without ever giving her what she truly wanted. It was well within his power in that moment to bring her to climax, and she would go screaming his name and begging for more.
But he craved her as much as she craved him. Simon retracted the hand that tormented her and grasped her by the neck, lowering her down into a languid kiss. The strength and insistence of his tongue as it plunged past her teeth was enough to make Cara go completely boneless against him. She thrust her own tongue back at him and warred for dominance as she pressed herself back into his erection. She rocked herself back and forth against it, teasing him with the promise of the release that lay between her legs. Simon's fingers were tangled in her hair, and she felt his grip tighten; she knew what he was signaling her to do. He was too far gone himself to angle her body the way he wanted it.
Cara snuck a hand between them and took hold of him once more, fingers wrapping around the thick base of his pulsing member. She guided herself down onto him and was grateful for the way that Simon's fingers had stretched her to accommodate him; she sank down onto him easily, feeling his rigid length slip inside her fully, until she was mewling and gasping with the unbelievable sensation. She felt her muscles contract helplessly at the intrusion, seeking a tighter fit, a more fulfilling pleasure, and she got it. Cara allowed her eyes to fall shut, half-dizzy from the heat and the sheer relish of having Simon inside her.
She wanted to enjoy the sweet agony, but the man beneath her was horny beyond reason and impatient to move. He grabbed the swell of her ass and guided her down onto him again; his thrusts were slowed by the water. He was panting with need, and Cara decided she loved to see him like this. He could have a private jet with its own Jacuzzi and all the money in the world, but he was still a slave to his most basic desires.
She leaned forward and snatched his lower lip between her teeth, exerting a sharp pressure on the sensitive flesh as she nibbled and pulled at it. Simon pulled her down onto him and kept her in place. His sudden refusal to move was driving her to distraction. She could
feel
that he brushed her very center, but without friction, there was no triggering the ultimate pleasure that awaited her.
Cara rose, about to change positions on him again, and Simon followed her up. He exhibited his strength in turning her around and setting her on the side of the Jacuzzi; the open air of the private jet rushed against her fevered skin, and Cara gasped at the cold. She wasn't given very long at all to reflect on it before Simon rose fully out of the water and seized her hip. She parted her legs to accommodate him as they were rejoined, kissing him all the while. His thrusts came quicker now that there was no water to impede him, and the force of them was nearly enough to unseat her. She struggled not to slide back down into the water, and Simon kept her pinned as he took her, hard and fast, against the side of the Jacuzzi. Each jerking motion caused the water to splash up around his tensed flanks, and despite the awkward haste with which they had decided on their new position, Cara knew it was what she needed. She leaned back, keeping a tight hold on his neck, and allowed herself to be jogged upon his rigid member. She was crying out incessantly beneath him, and she didn't care if the pilot heard her in the cockpit. Just the shape of the word made her shiver.