Chapter 12 - Selene
I shouldn’t be upset that Simon has been so distant over the past three days. He’s hardly come out of his room and moves between there and the home office in silence. He has made excuses not to eat with us at night and goes to bed early.
He’s been distant and quiet, and it’s hurting me. But I know that doesn’t make any sense at all because I was the one who was distant first.
After the kiss, I became so overwhelmed that I basically had an internal freak out and didn’t know what to do. So, I hid away from him.
Guilt washes through me because I know that I am the reason he’s being distant. I started this. He has every right to do the same thing to me. I just wish he wouldn’t.
It’s late, and I am sitting in the living room, snuggled up beneath a blanket with the twins while they watch an animation they’ve seen twenty times already. The movie has barely started, and Arron is already drifting to sleep.
My mind isn’t on the show at all. My mind is on Simon.
I wish I hadn’t pulled away after the kiss, but I know it was the right thing to do.
So many old feelings resurfaced, drowning me, and I became obsessed with the fear that if I allowed myself to feel them, I would be setting myself up for heartbreak.
I already lost him once. I can’t go through that pain again.
And with the situation as it is, how can I trust him? How can I trust myself to keep my distance from him?
He is still keeping us prisoner here, and I don’t know if he even believes I was never a spy for my father or not.
There are too many variables.
I stare at the children. Solenne’s eyes are dropping. Arron is passed out and deep in dreamland.
Another five minutes pass, and Solenne is sleeping too. I reach for the remote to turn the movie off so I can take them to bed and go to bed myself. The television goes silent. I stare at my children sleeping more peacefully than they ever have in their lives.
I have to make this right.
Even if I can’t trust my heart or the situation, I honestly can’t bear another day of this massive distance between Simon and me. At some point, it’s going to affect the children, and at least for their sake, I should try to make this right.
I scoop them into my arms and carry them to their room. Tucking them in as I try to think about what I want to say to him.
Quietly, I slip out of their bedrooms, relieved that they are still sleeping.
I close the door and go in search of Simon.
He’s in his office.
I tap lightly on the open door, and he looks up, grimacing when he sees me.
“Selene,” he says, his voice gruff.
“I..um… I wanted to talk to you if that’s okay?” I say, nervously stepping into his space.
He nods, pulling a face as he leans back in the office chair.
“What about?” he asks stiffly.
“About us. Um. About the tension?” I speak.
He scowls and turns his head away from me, staring at the bookshelves, and my heart sinks. He looks like he hates me. He looks like he loathes the very idea of being in the same room as me.
“Simon, it’s just that…” I start, but I notice how he shifts his weight, favoring his right shoulder and trying to hide the way his body protects his left.
“What’s wrong?” I blurt out, walking towards him.
“Nothing,” he says hurriedly, trying to spin the office chair away from me.
“Simon, what is going on? You’re hurt!” I demand, pulling him back to face me.
He groans when I brush my hand over his shoulder and feel the bandages wrapped around his arm beneath his shirt.
“What is this?” I ask sternly, and he sighs.
“I got… shot.” The words come out with reluctance.
“Shot?” I gasp in horror.
“When I was at the warehouse the other day. There was a sniper,” he sighs.
“Simon, I need to look at this. I need to make sure you’re okay,” I insist.
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve already cleaned the bandages yesterday. It’s fine.”
“Yesterday? When your wound is this fresh, the bandages need to be changed twice a day. You can’t just leave it like that. Come on,” I demand, holding my hand out to help him from his chair. “Where is the first aid kit?”
“Selene,” he grumbles, getting to his feet.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. Where is the first aid kit?”
We head into his bathroom, and he sits on the edge of the bath.
Carefully, I help him unbutton his shirt and slip it off his broad shoulders.
My heart is filled with relief that his expression was not one of hatred, but rather one of pain. Not that I want him to be in pain. But I want him to hate me even less.
“How did you end up getting shot?” I ask to keep his mind off the disinfectant I am about to wipe across his wound.
“A sniper was perched in the building opposite ours. He was taking potluck shots into the warehouse. It wasn’t a massive attack, not a lot of damage, but it was clear he was sent to send a message.
Anyway, there is a young girl who makes our tea and coffee, and she was headed right into his line of fire.
I had to pull her out the way, and I took the bullet instead. ”
“You saved her life,” I whisper as I wrap a fresh bandage over his arm. He put himself in danger to protect one of the people who works for him. My father would never do something like that. Never. Not in a million years.
He shrugs, wincing at the movement. “Anyone would have done it,” he says.
“You’re wrong about that, Simon,” I mutter.
After a moment of quiet, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?”
But now that the bandages are almost finished being wrapped, I am becoming more and more aware of him and less aware of the task I was busy with.
Topless, tanned muscles, thick, strong arms, broad shoulders.
A dark shadow of stubble across his jaw, maybe because he couldn’t shave, as it hurt too much.
I bite my lip as he answers me, but in all honestly, I am not focused at all on what he’s saying. My body is humming.
It doesn’t help that I am standing between his legs, my knees pressed between his thighs, and his hands resting absentmindedly on my hips. My fingers pause on the bandages. I’m done. But I can’t bring myself to move.
Beneath his touch, my skin is burning.
“Sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he says quietly.
“Oh, it’s…” I am about to say it’s okay, but he looks up at me, and his caramel eyes are like a drug I have been desperate for. His lips part as his gaze studies my face. I can barely breathe. I find myself leaning deeper into him, and his hands tighten on my hips.
Instantly, I want to escape.
I want to run from the thing I’m longing for the most.
I want to run from the fear of how this will break me later.
But I can’t run.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I snap instead, my voice raw with agitation and frustration. He doesn’t know it’s not even about the fact that he hid it from me. It’s about how he makes me feel. And how I can’t control it.
“Selene, I was trying to protect you and the twins. I didn’t want you to worry, he says defensively.
“So, keeping secrets from me is protecting me? I think it’s just lying. You lied to me, and you’re trying to make yourself out to be the good guy,” I snap, frowning, but still not having moved an inch.
Simon cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.
“I wasn’t lying to you, Selene. You haven’t even spoken to me in days. It’s not like we were on the best of terms…”
“But you got shot. It could have been one of my father’s men. It’s directly linked to me, and I have a right to know,” I huff.
His eyes narrow even more. I don’t think it’s working. I don’t think my trying to start a fight with him is a sufficient enough distraction to stop the wild, feverish desire pulsing through me… and I think that he can see exactly what I’m really thinking.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been avoiding me since we kissed,” he mutters, shifting the topic to something more dangerous.
“The kiss… it was… I was…”
“You were what? You didn’t want it? You didn’t enjoy it?” he asks, his voice low. His fingers are digging into my hips, pulling me closer.
“No… yes… it’s…”
I trip over my words, unable to find the right answer, unable to think clearly. I stare down at his eyes and see the hunger in them. The same hunger that I feel in my eyes.
My gaze drops to his lips, and he doesn’t hesitate for a second.
The moment they do, he pulls me closer, and he kisses me.
When our lips touch, it feels like someone has lit a thousand fireworks inside me. Every cell, every inch of me, screams with relief… and screams for more.
His hands grab at me, holding me too tight as though he’s desperate. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing my fingers up through his hair as I kiss harder against his lips. His groan is seductive and enticing.
My hands run down Simon’s bare back, over the curves and valleys of his muscular form. My fingers trace over his biceps, careful not to touch the bandages.
He doesn’t seem to remember that he’s in pain or that he’s injured.
He stands, not pulling away from my lips, still kissing me like it was our first time. His arm slips around my waist, and he turns me so that my back is against his chest. I take a deep breath, suddenly free from his mouth, but immediately longing for it again.
“Go to my bed,” he commands, his voice low and dangerous.
My heart flips as he places his hand against my lower back and pushes me forward. My feet carry me while I think a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t do this, but not one of them is good enough to stop me.
At the edge of his bed, I turn to face him again, and instantly his lips find mine.
He pushes his tongue into my mouth as he tears my shirt, pulling it from my body in a messy rush of desperation.
My hair falls loose from the tie and spills down my back. He knots his fingers in it and tugs gently, forcing me to look up at him while he stares into my eyes and slowly, seductively, pulls my cotton bra straps off my shoulders.
“You could wear lace. You could wear cotton. You could wear nothing at all… and still I would want you the same,” he whispers as he tugs my bra from my breasts and lets it fall to the floor.
I feel exposed, held in place by his grip on my hair.
I feel seen. I feel admired with deep desire.
And I feel more turned on than I have ever felt in my life.
His hand cups beneath my breast as his lips drift over my throat. His thumb teases over my nipple, and I cry out, gasping and arching into his touch.
He rocks his hips forward, pushing his cock against me. Rock hard and threatening to burst through the seams of his pants.
I fumble with the buttons and tug the zip down to free his monstrous cock.
I had forgotten how massive it was. Thick veins throb over the surface, and a glistening drop of liquid shines at the tip.
I want to drop to my knees and lick it off, but he holds me firmer.
“I didn’t say you could move. You are mine to play with tonight, Selene.
You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.
How long you kept this from me,” he growls below his breath.
My pussy is soaked, and as he slips his hands into my pants and brushes his fingers over my clit his groan becomes almost animal-like.
“Fuck, you are so wet,” he murmurs against my mouth. He releases my hair and grabs the waist of my pants, yanking them down so hard I fall onto the bed. He rips the jeans from my body and climbs over me, tugging his own pants down, feverish, wild with passion.
Simon grabs my legs and pulls them apart, spreading my thighs as he pushes his hips between them.
With his cock in his hand, he rubs himself over my soaked pussy, spreading my juices onto his shaft, teasing me and making me arch my hips up into him.
I claw at his back, trying to pull him onto me. My body cannot wait another second. I need him. I need him more than I have ever needed anything.