lips and the tight tic of his jaw giving him away. She’d struck a chord, though she couldn’t say for sure on what.
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he said, voice coming out tight and rigid even though he seemed to be agreeing with her. He shifted slightly then and met her eyes. “Besides, it’s not like I ever knew you at all.”
Claire thinned her lips as she stared at him. He’d revealed something, though Claire couldn’t tell whether he’d intended to or not. He didn’t think he’d known her. At least she weren’t alone in that feeling.
He stared at her for a moment longer and then began to speak. “Now, what are the terms of this arrangement?” he said.
His voice had taken on an icy, no-nonsense tone, one that shot straight to Claire’s core and reintensified her desire.
She waited a breath and then another, determined that he would not see the way he affected her and more determined to wait until she could speak without her voice trembling.
Then, finally, she spoke. “I’m yours. At your beck and call, for the next six weeks.”
“And what does that mean?” he asked, his gaze clashing with hers, daring her say anything but the truth.
“It means I’m yours to do with as you wish,” she said grudgingly, though she still heard the undertone of need in her voice.
His eyes flashed, and he shook his head, the lock of dark hair moving against his forehead.
“No, Claire, don’t be vague. You know exactly what it means, and I want to hear you say it,” he said, still looking at her and speaking in a voice that had taken on an intensity even stronger than before.
She swallowed, hating her traitorous body for responding to his words and the sound of his voice, and even more not wanting to speak the words out loud. Somehow she had convinced herself that if she didn’t say the words she could keep herself distant, detached, or as detached as possible, anyway.
Leave it to Simeon to rip that option away.
“It means that you’re going”—she swallowed hard and then exhaled—“to sleep with me…whenever you’d like,” she said.
His face shifted into an almost wolfish grin, and he shook his head.
“No. I’m not going to sleep with you, Claire, and you’re not going to sleep with me,” he said. “We’re going to fuck. A lot.”
At his words, her craving body pulled tight, and she could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs and could feel the tremble in her hands at the need to touch him.
“Say it,” he said, voice low, demanding.
He’d looked away and back out to the beautiful view, but Claire could sense his attention on her, knew that he was focused—entirely—on her.
That only made things worse. One look from Simeon had turned her into a pooling mess of desire. Something that hadn’t changed, even in all these years.
Her breath, which she hadn’t even realized was coming out in short, harsh almost-grunts, got even harsher and her breasts rose and fell in time with her rough exhales.
“We’re going to fuck,” she said with only the faintest tremor in her voice, one that was entirely due to the desire that threatened to overtake her.
“Strip,” he said.
This time when he spoke he looked at her and turned to face her fully, his broad chest centered toward her.
And in that moment any doubt she might have felt faded.
She didn’t understand this, didn’t understand the man who stood in front of her, and she definitely didn’t understand the anger he felt toward her.
But she understood desire, and she could see it in him.
She also knew that what Simeon had said was true.
They were going to fuck.
And she was going to enjoy it.
10
S he slipped her foot out of one of the heels, then the other, disliking how much more obvious the differences in their heights was without the extra inches the heels gave her.
He kept facing her, and Claire focused on the broad expanse of his suit-covered chest.
Under Simeon’s unwavering, heated gaze, she
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he said, voice coming out tight and rigid even though he seemed to be agreeing with her. He shifted slightly then and met her eyes. “Besides, it’s not like I ever knew you at all.”
Claire thinned her lips as she stared at him. He’d revealed something, though Claire couldn’t tell whether he’d intended to or not. He didn’t think he’d known her. At least she weren’t alone in that feeling.
He stared at her for a moment longer and then began to speak. “Now, what are the terms of this arrangement?” he said.
His voice had taken on an icy, no-nonsense tone, one that shot straight to Claire’s core and reintensified her desire.
She waited a breath and then another, determined that he would not see the way he affected her and more determined to wait until she could speak without her voice trembling.
Then, finally, she spoke. “I’m yours. At your beck and call, for the next six weeks.”
“And what does that mean?” he asked, his gaze clashing with hers, daring her say anything but the truth.
“It means I’m yours to do with as you wish,” she said grudgingly, though she still heard the undertone of need in her voice.
His eyes flashed, and he shook his head, the lock of dark hair moving against his forehead.
“No, Claire, don’t be vague. You know exactly what it means, and I want to hear you say it,” he said, still looking at her and speaking in a voice that had taken on an intensity even stronger than before.
She swallowed, hating her traitorous body for responding to his words and the sound of his voice, and even more not wanting to speak the words out loud. Somehow she had convinced herself that if she didn’t say the words she could keep herself distant, detached, or as detached as possible, anyway.
Leave it to Simeon to rip that option away.
“It means that you’re going”—she swallowed hard and then exhaled—“to sleep with me…whenever you’d like,” she said.
His face shifted into an almost wolfish grin, and he shook his head.
“No. I’m not going to sleep with you, Claire, and you’re not going to sleep with me,” he said. “We’re going to fuck. A lot.”
At his words, her craving body pulled tight, and she could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs and could feel the tremble in her hands at the need to touch him.
“Say it,” he said, voice low, demanding.
He’d looked away and back out to the beautiful view, but Claire could sense his attention on her, knew that he was focused—entirely—on her.
That only made things worse. One look from Simeon had turned her into a pooling mess of desire. Something that hadn’t changed, even in all these years.
Her breath, which she hadn’t even realized was coming out in short, harsh almost-grunts, got even harsher and her breasts rose and fell in time with her rough exhales.
“We’re going to fuck,” she said with only the faintest tremor in her voice, one that was entirely due to the desire that threatened to overtake her.
“Strip,” he said.
This time when he spoke he looked at her and turned to face her fully, his broad chest centered toward her.
And in that moment any doubt she might have felt faded.
She didn’t understand this, didn’t understand the man who stood in front of her, and she definitely didn’t understand the anger he felt toward her.
But she understood desire, and she could see it in him.
She also knew that what Simeon had said was true.
They were going to fuck.
And she was going to enjoy it.
10
S he slipped her foot out of one of the heels, then the other, disliking how much more obvious the differences in their heights was without the extra inches the heels gave her.
He kept facing her, and Claire focused on the broad expanse of his suit-covered chest.
Under Simeon’s unwavering, heated gaze, she
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