Page 132 of Unleashed

“It’s okay. Please don’t cry.” Simone wraps her arms around my waist and rests her cheek on my shoulder, but there’s no way she doesn’t hear my hammering heart. Her tears are hot on my cool skin, and I sigh into her hair. “I mean, I would’ve liked to have gotten you pregnant first hand, but...” I drift off because I don’t want her to hear my voice crack from my tight throat.

Simone pulls away, but I don’t let her go far. She rubs her hands on my back, dragging her nails. My softening dick does a 180, and I close my eyes as I rest my lips against the top of Simone’s wet hairline. She sniffs, no doubt sucking up chlorine. That shit has wrecked my throat, it being so tight.

I pull away from her forehead to say, “I hate your father.” She nods and drops her fingers to my waistband.

Her sigh tickles and heats my chest. “I don’t want him dictating when I can have a baby. I need the money, but now that the baby is gone...” She rolls my waistband with her fingers. “I feel empty. I didn’t want this. I wanted...”

When she doesn’t go on, I clear my throat. “What?”

She shakes her head but whispers, “A family.”

I realize I’m hugging her when I confess, “Me too. If I didn’t have screwed-up genes.”

Simone dips her fingers into the back of my shorts. I don’t think she’s teasing me on purpose, but my dick doesn’t give a damn.

She pulls her head off my shoulder and we stare at each other. Her eyes fall to my lips, and she licks hers. My hands go to her hips as her eyes travel to mine again. I want to get lost in her. Simone’s hands slide to my chest and then to my shoulders. The draw we used to have to each other is still solid and agonizing. When she looks at my lips again, I whisper, “Don’t you fucking kiss me.” Because I won’t be able to stop.

Simone’s eyes pop open, and she drops her hands with a sour pout. “I wasn’t. Damn. Get over yourself,” she mutters and heads for the ladder. Prince Charming right here.

I follow her out of the water and mumble, “That’s what you told me at the field. Right?” I sigh. “Where are you going?”

Simone grabs a towel from a shelf and wraps it around herself. “The pool will be closing. I need to pee and then rinse off. Or am I not allowed?”

I roll my eyes as I get out of the pool and pick up a towel. In the locker room, I rinse off in a shower and grab my shirt and shoes. I realize my shorts are dripping wet. I don’t have that many clothes in the apartment.

I wait for Simone outside the locker rooms. When she emerges, she’s wearing a cover-up over her bikini, which is a fucking travesty.

She breezes past me, and again, I follow. I don’t try talking to her since I’m soaked and my balls are shriveling.

We enter through the back door and into the kitchen. The light over the small table in the dining room and the light hanging in the mini-foyer are the only lights shining on the first floor. Simone sets her keys on the table and goes to the fridge, removing two bottles of beer. She picks up a bottle opener and snaps them off before handing me one. She turns away and I say, “Thanks.”

I watch her drink half the bottle before I do the same. Her lips hug the bottle as they milk it with every pull. Even though my shorts are cold and wet, I harden.

Simone studies her brown bottle and says, “You were on a date earlier.”

I lift my bottle but stop before putting it in my mouth. “Yeah. So were you.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Can’t help it. You’re half-naked and hot as hell.” I can’t even lie to her.

Simone frowns. “Damn it, Rod. I wish you were real with me.”

I set down my beer on the counter with a rattle, annoyed. “Stop calling me that.”

She glances at me with a smirk. “Mr. Rodwell.”

My frown deepens, and I snap, “Try again.”

Simone grins with a giggle as she steps out of her flip-flops. I now notice her blue-painted toenails. “Betsy’s man.”

“Fuck you.”

She cocks a blonde eyebrow at me. “We’ll see.” She picks up one of the bottle caps, looking at it. I still have the Budweiser cap she tossed to me at our wedding. Simone smiles at it and glances at me. “Maybe I can flip it this time.” She balances it on her thumb and flicks it into the air, and I stretch to catch it.

“That was pretty good.” I flip it back to her, but it bounces off the fridge and onto the floor. I shrug. “I guess I’m rusty.” She bends to pick up the cap and tosses it into the trash. I watch her move. She finishes the beer and leaves the bottle on the counter. I pick up mine and chug the rest before sliding the empty bottle into hers. The glass clatters and knocks hers over. It rolls but doesn’t fall to the floor.

Simone sighs as she leaves the kitchen. When she goes into the dining room, I follow until we’re in the living room, where I grab her hips, dragging her to me. She squeals, and my mouth goes to her ear.

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