Oh no.
When I returned to the living room with two glasses of Zinfandel, Simon was nose deep in my Kindle reading my book.
“Simon, stop.”
“You’ve been holding out on me, Bridget. This is the stuff in your books?”
Feeling the heat rise in my face, I said, “What did you think was in my books?”
“I figured it was some Fabio shit, you know, woman blushes, follows the guy to the bedroom, he makes love to her. This chap has his cock between her tits, and he just shot his load on her face.”
“He did?”
“Oh, that’s right. I read past your bookmark. I guess you hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“Apparently not.”
“Let me back up and read it to you, then.”
The expression on my face must have looked like a mixture of terror and amusement. At least, that was how I felt. “Simon…”
“Come on. I promise. I’ll be serious. We can have Storytime with Simon. Sit back with your wine and I’ll read to you.”
Oh my God. He was serious.
I had to admit, though. The thought of listening to him reciting the sex scenes for me in that accent was too enticing to pass up. So, against my better judgment, I did as he said, took my glass of wine, sat down, leaned my head back and just listened.
“Let’s see now. Looks like your bookmark begins right here.” Simon cleared his throat dramatically. “Ahem” And then began…
“His fingers dug deep into my tense shoulder muscles.”
Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten that I’d left off in my book at a point where the hero was about to give the heroine a massage. Just like Simon had done to me not two minutes ago. “This isn’t a good idea.” I began to jump up from the couch, but Simon caught me. He hooked one arm around my waist and pulled me back down. Only now we were sitting much closer on the couch. Our thighs were touching, and the warmth from his body transmitted to my leg and shot down to an interesting place.
“Rubbish. You set me up with a boney-ass, wanna-be kitten. Now I’m going to get some action tonight, even if it has to come from your e-reader.”
I smirked. “Her ass was kind of boney, wasn’t it?”
“Did you even inquire if she was a starfish?”
I giggled. “No.”
“Alright, then. You owe me. And as payback, I’m going to read this little hot scene and then when we’re done, I’ll go back to my place and enjoy a good wank, and you’ll do whatever it is that you do.”
“A good wank?” I questioned.
“Masturbate. You know…” Simon formed a C with one hand and pumped it back and forth, simulating a hand job. “Jerk the gerk. Choke the chicken. Pump the stump. Do the five knuckle shuffle. Flog the lizard. Burp the worm. Charm the snake…whatever you Americans call it these days.”
If I had any common sense, I probably should have been offended that my tenant was suggesting that he read me the dirty parts of my book and then we go our separate ways and masturbate. But…it did sound sort of appealing. God knows I was tense. Simon smirked. “You’re in. I can read it all over your face. You won’t deprive me this simple pleasure after the catastrophe of my date.”
“Fine,” I huffed trying to sound like it was a sacrifice.
Simon started to read again. I didn’t bother to move from my new position snuggled against him.
His fingers dug deep into my knotted shoulder muscles. “You’re so tense. Why don’t you remove your blouse so I can really work my fingers into you?”
“Okay.” I unfastened the small pearl buttons and slipped my blouse from my shoulders.
“Christ, you have no bra on underneath your shirt, Cheri.”
“I’m perky enough that I don’t need to wear one.”
“Perky, huh? Perhaps I should be the judge of that.” Andrew reached around to cup both my breasts. He pinched one nipple hard. “These are pretty damn perky. How about if I massage these for a while instead of your neck?”
Simon stopped reading. “Wait. So that was an option? I only got to rub your neck?”
I elbowed him in the ribs, and he chuckled while speaking. “Let me ask you, does this thing have a word search feature?”
“The e-reader? Yes, why?”
“Do you ever just search for cock or tits and skip right to the good parts?”
“No! You think I read it for the sex…but I need the full story. I can’t just jump into that stuff without any build up. That would be like having sex without any touching first—no foreplay.”
“I rather like the thought of having sex without actual touching first.”
“You would. You’re a man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It takes less to…you know…get you off. You can pretty much put it in any hole and get the job done.”
“If that were true, I’d be home with Miss Kitty right about now, wouldn’t I?”
“I guess…”
“Men need foreplay as much as women. It just doesn’t have to be an actual act of touching for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Foreplay can be the way a woman looks.” Simon’s eyes dropped to my body. “The way her mouth moves.” His gaze flickered to my lips. “With the right woman, I could be dreaming about what it might feel like to have her painted lips on me the entire time we’re sharing a meal. It could even be in a crowded restaurant. By the time I’m done with dinner—I’ve had all the foreplay I can take, and I’m ready to get down to business.”
I swallowed. “But what about the woman? What’s her foreplay?”
“With the right person, it’s the same.” His gaze returned to meet mine. “If the chemistry is there, if there’s a mutual attraction and she’s watching me watch her, just knowing what I’m thinking can be foreplay. I drive her home. Neither of us speaks. Tension builds. Then we shag right up against the door the minute we walk in because we can’t control ourselves anymore.”
God, it was warm in the house. I felt like fanning myself. “I think maybe you could write one of my books, Simon.”
“Ah. That sounds like a challenge. Don’t be surprised if I jot some sexy scenes down on my prescription pad and slip them under your bedroom door. You can tell me if what I prescribe works better than your books.”
“You’re crazy enough that I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Simon lifted the e-reader. “Where were we? I need to brush up on my sex scene writing.”
“I think he was giving her a massage.”
“Ah, yes. Nipple pinching.” His finger scanned the page of the tablet, stopping half way down the page. “Here we go.”
I bent my head back offering Andrew my mouth as he kneaded my aching breasts. His tongue tasted like the whiskey he’d been drinking over dinner. Whiskey and Andrew—it was a combination that really worked for me. He broke the kiss, walked around from behind, and began unbuckling his belt directly in front of me. Sitting, I was eye level to his thick bulge. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all night?”
“What?”
“How good it would feel to slide my cock in between your perky tits. I bet you’re wet right now. I’m going to put my fingers inside of you, coat my hand with your juices and rub it between those tits before I pump my cock in and out. How does that sound, Bridget?”
Bridget? Did he just say Bridget, or was I hearing things?
Simon cleared his throat again. After a long pause he started to speak, only his voice was heavier and gravelly. “Yes, please, Andrew. Please.”
Licking my lips, I unzipped his pants. I was so needy that I couldn’t even waste the time to lower them. Instead, I tugged on the waistband of his dark boxer briefs and slipped my hand inside. Simon was hard as a rock when I wrapped my fingers around his thick arousal.
I’d thought he was teasing me the second time. “Simon and Bridget. Very cute, Dr. Hogue. You had me there for a second. I thought I’d imagined it the first time.”
Simon turned to face me. His face wasn’t playful like it normally was. “Huh?”
I squinted. “When you called the heroine Bridget instead of Cheri and the hero Simon instead of Andrew?”
He blinked a few times. “Yes. Uh. You caught me.” Simon stood abruptly. “I think that’s enough reading for tonight.”
I was confused at the sudden turn of events...until…I looked forward while Simon was standing and noticed a considerable bulge.
Oh my God. Simon was hard from reading my book.