Page 92 of The One I Hate
What did I do to deserve this? Do I deserve this? He should have never talked to me again, considering everything. But not only did he forgive me, he’s giving us the chance we never had.
And so am I. Because I’ve had a life without Simon. It was just okay. But Simon Banks in my life? Well, there’s nothing quite like it.
“Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember when you said you’d do anything you could for me?”
“Of course.” I giggle as his mouth continues to nibble on my neck.
“How about we go upstairs?”
He quickly stops kissing me. “Why? Are you sick? Feeling okay? Do you need to lay down?”
I stand up as sexy as I can, considering I feel like a bloated blob. I take his hand and pull him with me, leading him toward the stairs to my apartment. “I do need to lay down. With you on top of me.”
Chapter 22
Charlie
Simon blinks a few times. I’m guessing not sure if he heard me right.
Hell, I don’t even know if I heard me right. Because I’m pretty sure I just said the cheesiest thing in the history of ever to ask my boy…baby dad…whatever he is…to have sex with me.
God, I’m pathetic. It’s been so long since I’ve had sober sex, and I don’t even know how to indicate it properly.
Except the way Simon’s eyes have flipped a switch from concerned and attentive to downright ravenous, I’m guessing my line worked.
“Upstairs. Now.”
Yup. It worked.
I turn to start walking back toward the kitchen, which leads to the stairs to my apartment, when I feel a smack on my ass.
“What the!” I jump and turn around, only to see Simon with the most devilish look I’ve ever seen before. “Excuse you!”
He tugs me back into him by the elastic band of my leggings, my back colliding with his hard body.
“If you don’t want me to do that again, you better move faster.”
A zing of excitement runs down my spine as I power walk through the kitchen, past the office, where I zoom right past Mellie, and up the stairs. I hear Simon’s footsteps behind me, and while part of me wants to go quicker, part of me also wouldn’t mind feeling his hand against my ass again.
What are these pregnancy hormones doing to me?
At least, that’s what this has to be. My whopping four sexual partners before Simon would never describe me as adventurous. I’m pretty sure me being on top is the kinkiest thing I had ever done. And that caused me nothing but stress because normally I was heavier than them.
Then came my tequila-fueled night with Simon. I don’t remember it all, but I remember most. I remember how I felt sexual and wanted and desired and passionate. I didn’t worry about my weight. I was in the drunken moment. The feelings were foreign. A little exciting.
And I want to do them again.
And then some.
“Not fast enough, Bug.” Simon is pressing me against my apartment door as I do my best to unlock it. I’m fumbling the keys, unable to concentrate with his hard cock pressing against me and his mouth sucking on my neck.
I hear the click of the lock, and I almost lose my footing as Simon and I stumble over each other into my apartment. I don’t even have my bearings before he spins me around and smashes his lips into mine. If his arms weren’t around me, holding me tighter than I’ve ever been held before, I’m sure I would have fallen.
Yet somehow I don’t think Simon would have let that happen.
