“My ex-wife was a difficult woman.”
Ex-wife? I had no idea he’d been married.
“I won’t get into all of her issues, because I’m enjoying this time with you and I don’t want to fuck it up. The gist of it is, I found her fucking a friend of mine—”
I gasp.
“And when I told her that I’d be filing for divorce, she went crazy. Attacked me, and managed to drag her nails down my arm before I got her off of me.”
“Holy shit, Simon.”
“That was a while ago.”
“When?”
He stops washing me and looks in my eyes. “Three years.”
“Before all of this uber success?”
“Yes,” he says and sighs. “The success has really only happened in the past year or so. It was a surprise to me, honestly.”
“I told you last night, you have a good product, and a handsome package. I know, I’ve seen it.” I grin, and he tweaks my nipple as punishment.
“Cheeky girl.” He grins. “What I mean is, it happened fast. I went from giving small workshops in London to large seminars in the US, TV appearances, my own radio show, a bestselling book, and more.”
“That’s an impressive resume.”
“I’m glad that the drama with Amy happened before the career exploded because I don’t think I could have done both.”
“You’ve done great,” I reply with a smile.
“Thank you.”
Finally, when he’s done getting me nice and clean, and I’m both relaxed and turned on all over again, he leads me out of the bath and dries me off, wraps me back in the robe, and leads me to the bedroom.
Where a massage table has been set up.
“How in the world did this happen?”
“I arranged it,” he replies, as if it’s just that simple.
Then again, in Simon’s world, it probably is.
He takes the robe again and motions for me to lie face down on the table. I don’t know how long I lie here, but he takes his time massaging every inch of me, then flips me over and repeats the process until I’m a pile of mushy goo.
But then, his oily hands slip between my legs and he takes me for the most delicious ride. His movements are fluid, firm, and before I know it, I’m having an intense orgasm.
“Wow, so that’s what a happy ending feels like.”
He grins. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to be late.”
“Stay. Just a bit longer. I’m sure you can fly out later this evening.”
I drag my hand down his arm; my fingers glide over the scars there. “Well, I am hungry.”
“I’ll order room service.”
“We might as well add another tray to our collection.”
“There’s that work ethic again.”
Chapter Seven
~Charly~
“You look like shit,” Gabby, my youngest sister, says as she leads Van and Kate into my shop just after opening the next day.
“I didn’t get much sleep,” I reply. That’s an understatement. I didn’t get any sleep. I just walked off the plane an hour ago.
“Well, we went to your place last night,” Van says. “But you weren’t home.”
“Do not tell me that you were with Ryan the second you got back to town,” Kate says.
“I wasn’t. But enough about me.” I rush to Kate and pull her in for a big hug. “Congratulations, sugar. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” She grins and rests her hands on her still-small belly. “We didn’t think I could have kids you know.”
“Well, it just proves that miracles happen,” Gabby says then turns back to me. “So where were you last night?”
“Do you want the exact address?” I ask and turn away to pull shoes off the wall. I’m going to build a new display today.
“You texted me Friday night to say that you were going to stay in Montana for the weekend,” Van says and leans on my glass countertop.
“You’re going to leave prints on that,” I say.
“Answer the question,” Van says.
“You didn’t ask a question.”
“Why did you stay?” Kate asks.
“Who is he?” Gabby asks gleefully.
“It was a women’s retreat,” I remind them.
“They have guys that work for them,” Van says. “I’ve watched the videos and stuff.”
“You totally got laid recently,” Gabby adds.
“And her suitcase is back here!” Kate calls. I didn’t even see her walk into the stockroom.
She’s a sneaky one.
“Wait.” Van holds her hands up and stares at me with shocked eyes the same color as mine. “Simon. You hooked up with Simon.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” Gabby says with a laugh. “You totally did.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh. My. God!” Van rushes to me and grips my shoulders in her hands. “Spill it. I want to know all of it. When is he coming to visit?”
“Why would he come visit?”
“Duh. Because you hooked up.”
“Trust me, he’s not coming to New Orleans.” I shake my head and get back to work on the wall. “We had a good time. But it was just this weekend.”
“Spill it,” Kate says.
“I don’t want to tell you every detail,” I reply truthfully. “But he was awesome, and we had a good time. And now it’s over.”