Page 51 of Tear Me to Pieces
“Why don’t we start with something easy?” Simon’s hand leaves my hair, sliding down to grip my other ass cheek. “Spend a little time getting to know each other?”
I open my mouth to point out that we already know each other, but a yelp comes out instead as he hefts me up off the ground, the big hands spread across my ass supporting my weight as he starts walking up the stairs.
I hold onto him for dear life—legs at his waist, arms at his neck—because without the truck at my back, I feel unstable and at risk like this. I don’t think Simon would drop me…
On purpose.
He might not be the eager beaver I expected, but he does seem interested. So letting me somersault down the stairs seems unlikely.
But still.
He strides straight into my bedroom, but instead of going to the bed, he continues on, steps heavy as he takes us into the attached bathroom. Leaving the door open, he drops my butt onto the counter between the double sinks. Once his hold isn’t requiredfor my safety, he lets me go and grips the bottom of his shirt, peeling it off over his head.
Bringing me eye to chest with his naked upper half.
I’m not sure what possesses me—probably something delicious and evil—but I lean forward and lick right over one of his nipples.
I’ve never been sexually forward. I didn’t want sex from my husband so I sure as hell wouldn’t do anything that might have initiated it.
Plus he would have called me a whore.
I don’t have those fears with Simon. He won’t demean me or make me feel bad about who I am or what I want. And if I do something he doesn’t like, he’ll tell me. Nicely.
But Simon definitely likes what I did, because a groan works through his lips as his hands come to grip my thighs, fingers flexing against the extra flesh I’ve accumulated there since moving to Memphis.
It’s another thing I would have been shamed for. Matthias expected me to be thin and pretty and quiet and obliging. Passive and accepting of whatever he wanted.
And when I wasn’t, he took what he wanted anyway. By force.
Simon would never.
And that’s why my fingers find their way to the front of his pants, in search of the button and zipper holding hostage the part of him I’m both dreading and anticipating.
Based on what I’ve learned over the past year, Matthias had a small dick. Shocker.
The list of differences between the man in front of me and the one at my back just keep stacking up, and I’m pretty sure this one might end up at the top of the deck.
I finish working the fly of his jeans open and spread the fabric wide, gripping it so I can shove his pants down his hips. It’s not an easy task to accomplish from where I’m sitting, so I struggle to do much more than wiggle them around.
Simon presses one hand to my belly, keeping me balanced as he steps back, kicking away his boots before shoving down the jeans I was fighting. Instead of just the layer of denim,everythingon his lower half drops, leaving him completely naked.
Holy.
Crap.
“I changed my mind.” I lean back, trying to put more distance between me and the monster I’ve invited into my bed. “Six months won’t be enough time to figure out how to get that thing inside me.”
“Shhh.” Simon steps close again, bringing the ridiculousness between his legs along with him. “Don’t think about it.”
“How can I not think about it?” I can’t peel my eyes away as it sways with his movements. “It’s taking up the whole bathroom.”
“Eyes up here, My.” Simon’s finger presses under my chin, urging it up.
My head moves, but my gaze stays locked in place. “How do you even function with that thing in your way?”
Simon chuckles, his free hand coming to lift the weight of one of my boobs. “Do these get in your way?”
“Yup.” I’m still staring. I can’t stop. “All the time.”
