Page 34 of Some Like It Hot

She gives me another smile. “That was fun, Mr. Armstrong.”

“As expected.” I pull her up and give her a long, sweet kiss. Then I lift my head. “So? Dinner in Chicago or Turks and Caicos?”

CHAPTER 9

Elise

We stay in Chicago for dinner.

And for the next four rounds of sex.

Simon is… a god.

His mouth, his hands, his cock.

Whether he’s on top, behind me, or under me, the orgasms are guaranteed and the best I’ve ever had.

I knew he would be. And this is definitely part of the reason I didn’t want to sleep with him before. Simon is the kind of guy you don’t get over. The kind of guy you think about thirty years later with affection and an ache in your chest for what could’ve been, and probably some tingles, even three decades later, remembering the things he did to you.

I didn’t want that.

I still don’t, but clearly resistance is futile.

He’s the first guy I’ve let into this apartment.

He’s actually only the third person to be in this apartment. Luna and Dani have been here. I mean, it’s above Luna’s bakery and she’s my landlord. She owns the building and used to live in this apartment before she moved in with her boyfriends. I couldn’t really keep her out. But she visited as a friend.

It’s been a long time since I even let a girlfriend close. I’ve just learned the hard way over the years that people find my messiness a turn off. Or strange. Or gross.

I mean I get it. There’s I-didn’t-have-a-chance-to-pick-up-before-you-got-here and then there’s…what I’ve got. But I’ve accepted this. Does it mean I keep people from getting close? Yes. But I spent my childhood and teenage years trying to keep my parents happy and beating myself up about the messy condition of my bedroom, my locker at school, my inability to keep track of assignments, the fact that I was late to almost everything. I’m done with that. The ADHD is not my fault. This is just who I am. And with the medication and some coping mechanisms I’ve learned from therapy and online, I manage to adult adequately ninety percent of the time.

Okay, maybe eighty percent of the time.

But I also know that I have to know someone really well and trust them implicitly before they get inside my inner sanctum.

Or I have to be trying to push them away like I was with Simon.

But he’s still here. Despite the mess in my apartment, he managed to fuck me on three different surfaces. Sure one of them was my bed. But the couch and my sewing table saw action.

And he seemed to truly think having my dresses and shoes spread out was a good thing. When I kept refusing to show him every single dress I’d ever made, he decided to pull out the I’m Your Boss fantasy again and made me dress up in four different outfits.

He also seemed actually interested in what I do and impressed by the fact that I made the outfits that he found completely hot and stripping me right back out of.

I study him as he sleeps. He’s so beautiful. And charming, and funny, and stupidly fun and laid-back for a billionaire.

He’s too good to be true. Which has a partial wall still up around my heart. But he managed to smash half of that thing down in only a few hours.

I glance at the clock and groan.

It’s five-thirty in the morning. I have to get up.

I have a deal with Luna that comes with living in this apartment. I agree to be the one that gets up and gets everything started in the bakery first thing in the morning. It’s a perk to be able to walk downstairs in whatever I want to throw on and get the ovens going. It also knocks some money off my already ridiculously low rent.

But five-thirty in the morning is really fucking early, especially if you didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before.

Still, I grin as I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the mattress. I don’t mind being kept up the way Simon kept me up.

I also know I’m going to be a little sore today. The way he worked out, bent me over, and stretched me out hasn’t been done in a very long time.

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