Page 59 of Without Apology

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Simon

Peyton had rocked my world. Unequivocally. Since I’d never subscribed to the notion there was such a thing, it had taken me completely off guard. Now, watching her sleep in the morning light, I found myself in a place I’d never visited, let alone lingered: the land of feelings.

My first inclination was a shutdown protocol. I wondered if, like a computer, I could reset myself, go back to the start, before I’d begun to develop these foreign feelings. Maybe then I could successfully evade them. But that meant getting out of this warm bed, with her luscious body curled into me, and it meant probably saying something which would inevitably hurt her. It wasn’t an option I wanted to explore. Yet thoughts of the upcoming week and the need to return to the status quo weighed on me. These emotions were such an unknown. They left me in a place that was unbalanced and uneasy.

I needed to find my handle back on control.

She shifted in my arms. Her soft brown hair tickled my chest while her intoxicating scent drifted up to my nose and made me squeeze her tighter. I didn’t want this moment to end. But the minute we were back in the office, it would have to. At least I had the car ride back to look forward to. This gave me an idea.

After slowly extricating myself from the bed, I sent a text to Emma for the slight change in plans, then stepped into my shower. Although it was tempting to wake Peyton, I also wanted her to get some sleep. I was rinsing off when I sensed her, then hearing the shower door shut.

I turned. I’d thought that after having seen her nude already, I wouldn’t be stunned by her beauty. I was wrong. A somewhat sleepy Peyton with wild hair stepping naked into my shower had me speechless. Her body was incredible. Perky breasts, not too big, not too small. Hips which begged for me to grip them from behind. A flat stomach, soft to the touch. Runner’s legs, long and lean, leading up to a terrific ass. But it was her face, with amber eyes only for me, that made me suck in my breath.

“Hi,” she greeted, her gaze tracking down my body.

My cock took notice, standing at attention. “Hi.” I finally found words.

She stepped closer, under the spray, unconcerned about her hair getting wet, and reached out to grip my quickly hardening length. “I believe we have unfinished business.”

And just like that, she was sinking to her knees, looking up at me as she took the tip of my length into her mouth. The sensation of her lips surrounding me forced me to reach out one hand to brace myself on the tiled wall. Jesus. The talent of her mouth—The woman was about to bring me to my knees. But when she reached up and gripped my ass, pulling me into her face and giving the green light for me to fuck her mouth, I was positive I’d die from the pleasure.

I put my free hand, the one which wasn’t keeping me from collapsing, on top of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair, and moving it along with her motion. Christ. She took me deeper. Opening up her throat and hollowing out her cheeks, she sucked harder.

Suddenly my thighs tensed, my balls tightened. “I’m going to come.”

She doubled her efforts, clearly wanting to swallow me. It was my undoing. I erupted on her tongue, coming down her throat, and groaning with the image of her swallowing it all down.

I pulled her up. Then I didn’t hesitate to set her on my built-in shelf and bury my face in her pussy.

She protested. “At least let me wash first.”

As if I cared. She smelled like sex, and she’d never tasted better. I had her calling my name in minutes, her perfect cunt contracting around my fingers. I kissed her forehead as I watched her come down from her high and then helped her to her feet. Because I wasn’t done touching her, I took her small bottle of soap and poured some into my hands. Once they were lathered up, I ran them over her breasts and down her stomach straight to her hot center.

She sucked in a breath when my hand ran over her most delicate parts. After spreading her and washing her intimately, I moved further down her legs.

“Turn around.” My voice was husky, full of lust as my erection was back to full.

I soaped up her shoulders and down her back. Then, pouring more, I started at her feet and worked my up. I saved her ass for last, massaging the magnificent globes and pressing my erection into her back. Slipping a hand between her cheeks, I heard her gasp and couldn’t help caressing a finger over her pucker, suddenly wanting her there, too, someday. A myriad of possible positions crossed my mind.

Abruptly, I stepped back. This was dangerous, starting to think as though we’d have every night to explore those options. “I’ll leave you to wash your hair.”

As much as I wanted to sink deep inside of her again, there was the matter of a condom. I certainly didn’t have one in the shower. But the bigger reason was it would be too easy to get attached. I didn’t do attached, just as I didn’t do long-term plans. In the next two to three weeks, I’d be gone, traveling to the next city, if I did return to Dallas, it would only be for a short time. True, she understood the limitations, but I shouldn’t be giving her mixed signals about wanting more. Because I didn’t. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

She merely smiled, giving me another kiss as if she didn’t understand I was distancing myself. That I was mentally preparing myself for what next week would hold when I had to start interviewing all of her friends and long-time colleagues. When I would not be her favorite person.

After breakfast and once were all packed up for the long ride home, we left the building for the limo pulled up out front.

She looked surprised by the vehicle.

I’d hired it for privacy on the drive back. But that wasn’t exactly screaming relationship distance, was it, when I changed plans to obtain a car in which I could be naked with her across the country? Then again, perhaps that’s what we needed to get one another out of our systems. To let the fire burn down to manageable embers.

“Why the limo?” she asked, climbing inside with a twinkle in her eyes. She evidently already knew the real answer.

“I thought it would be more comfortable.” I could barely contain my grin now. Like a horny nineteen-year-old about to get laid.

“Hm. Comfortable for what, pray tell?”

As soon as the door was shut and we were cocooned in our own little world, I moved beside her on the bench seat, taking her hand and kissing it gently. “For whatever you want. I figure it’ll be the last marathon before we have to go back to normal.”

Because I had to be bluntly honest, I put it out there. “Once we’re back in the office on Monday, we may not get a lot of time together outside of work. I’ll have to start interviewing your coworkers, some of which include your friends. It won’t be the same.”

I let the words sink in. Waited for her questions about where this left us. Or the indignation over my power to say who stayed with the company to which she had devoted her career. Or the flash of disappointment that I’d basically told her we’d have to return to a completely professional relationship, at least at the office.

But none of that came. Instead, she wore a knowing expression, hinting at her perception.

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