Simon made her feel beautiful.
He made her feel safe.
God...she loved her primitive, protective, possessive male who had a heart of gold.
Lifting her leg, she ran the sponge over her calf, slowly to her knee and gently across her thigh. Images flashed through her mind, making the sensitive flesh between her legs pulsate with need and her heart ache.
Being bound to Simon's bed, at his mercy, his mouth devouring her.
On the couch, her wrists restrained while he rocked her world.
In the elevator, opening to him, him pummeling her until she screamed.
Three nights ago, holding him as he made her come apart.
Oh hell, he was her every erotic fantasy come to life in stunning, glorious color and there wasn't a thing she didn't love about him.
A lone tear streaked down her cheek as she switched legs and worked on the other one with the sponge.
Three days. It had only been three days and she was already a mess. The lonely yearning for him was already pulverizing her, swallowing her whole. Not only was he her erotic fantasy, he was her complete fantasy. The whole damn package. She had never met a man like him, and probably never would again.
He was sweet, although he would deny it.
He was tender, although he would deny that too.
Kind.
Compassionate.
A freaking genius, a man she learned something from every single day, although she definitely knew he would blow that off too.
Because he was also humble. Simon Hudson didn't ever see himself as someone special. But she saw him as he was; a man to grab hold of and never let go.
A second tear flowed down her other cheek as her heart crumbled.
She didn't want to go back to her life before Simon. And not because she cared about being poor. She had always lived in poverty and had never planned on being anything other than comfortable. Secure. Money didn't buy happiness, and having material things couldn't even come close to competing with having love, having that one special person who could make her complete, whole. What good were things and money if a person wasn't emotionally fulfilled, happy with their accomplishments, no matter how big or how small?
I'd feel exactly the same way about Simon even if he wasn't wealthy. As long as he was happy.
Granted, Simon was too intelligent, too ambitious not to be successful. But there were times when she wished he wasn't quite so wealthy, didn't work so hard. But his intelligence, his drive to make his products the very best, were parts of him that she loved. She accepted the whole package, freaking adored the sexy, masculine, quirky bundle of testosterone that made him uniquely...Simon.
Taking a seat on a high ledge of the tub, she closed her eyes as she ran the loofah up her stomach slowly, letting her images of Simon take control of her mind, the elusive smell of him on the loofah assailing every one of her senses.
Kara bit her lip as the slightly abrasive loofah slid over her br**sts, teasing her swollen, hard ni**les. She imagined Simon biting them gently, swirling his tongue over the tips, her erotic thoughts and arousal making her let herself go. Giving in to the pounding demands of her body, she opened her thighs and allowed her other hand to slide up her slippery thigh and begin a decadent indulgence, a fantasy.
If she couldn't be with Simon in reality, at least she would be with him in her mind.
*****
Kara has no reason to stay.
Simon's gut clenched as he knocked on the door of Kara's room, waiting for her to answer. Hoffman had called him less than an hour ago, informing him that the police had apprehended the second offender, the other bastard who had tried to abduct Kara.
Cursing under his breath, he pushed the door open, finding her bedroom empty. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her cell phone and her backpack sitting on her bed. She was home, still somewhere in the condo. She'd never leave without her pack.
Does she know? Had Detective Harris called her? Knowing very well that he shouldn't, he picked up her phone, thumbing through her missed calls. There was only one that was recent. It had occurred thirty minutes earlier, and it was from Harris. There was a voice mail, but he drew the line at listening to her messages. He already knew what the message was about. She was safe, the men who had attacked her both locked up.
The reason for her being here with him...gone.
He had to tell her. He might be a selfish bastard, but he wouldn't let Kara spend another minute fearing that someone was on the loose, trying to kill her.
As far as he knew, she hadn't suffered another nightmare. God knew that he listened closely every night, left his bedroom door open in case she needed him. She hadn't.
Dropping her phone back on the bed, he yanked at his tie, undoing the knot completely, leaving the material to drape around his neck. He had discarded his jacket in the kitchen a few minutes earlier when he had arrived home. Uncertainty settled over him like a dark cloud as he exited her bedroom. Would she stay even though the immediate threat to her was gone? And if she wanted to leave, how in the hell could he ever let her go?
Not happening. She's mine, damn it!
Gritting his teeth, his emotions bouncing between determination and fear, he went in search of her. Most likely, she was in the computer lab. His lips curved upward, wondering if she would badger him for clues in her pursuit of mastering Myth World II. She played his game exclusively, declaring that the other games weren't as challenging, alternately praising him for being a genius and nagging him for tips. He knew she didn't really want him to tell her, to spoil the challenge of the game. Hell, if she had really wanted to know, if she had just once turned those baby blue eyes in his direction with a questioning glance, he would have spilled every damn secret she wanted to know about the game and probably some she had never even thought about yet.
He checked the lab, but she wasn't there. She had to be in the gym. Hesitating as he headed in that direction, he started to unbutton his shirt, heading toward his bedroom. He wanted to get out of this irritating, stiff shirt and pants, throw on some workout clothes and pump iron until his body relaxed. How in the hell he could relax when he saw Kara in her skimpy exercise clothing he didn't know, but he wanted to be with her, ached to see her.
He wouldn't blame her if she turned on her heel and left the minute he walked into the room, but he hoped she didn't. Honestly, he would deserve it. The last three days had been tense, and he had been a complete bastard to her, answering her cheerful questions with one-word, terse answers, practically ignoring her presence when she was in the room with him. Slowly, she had become as withdrawn as he was, speaking only when they had to communicate. Still friendly, but distant.
As he made his way down the hall to his room, he promised himself that he would resolve that issue. He couldn't take it anymore. Sam was right -- for once! He needed Kara, and feeling her move further and further away from him was like cutting off a limb. Fuck! It was more like cutting out his heart with a dull knife.