The Anti-Social Season (First Responders #2)

Chapter Fifteen

Fifteen

S imon leaned forward slowly, not wanting to disturb Thea while he grabbed his coffee. “Speaking of kids, I was looking at your shelves while you were sleeping.”

She turned her head to look at him, a crooked grin on her face. “Really?”

He leaned back, cradling the warm mug. “Yeah. Your nephews are cute.”

“Still monsters though.” But there was affection and pride in her voice.

There was a long silence while they sipped their coffee. “I saw the photo of you and your former colleagues too.”

She didn’t stiffen, but she did go still, like a small animal wanting to be overlooked by a predator. He went on, gentling his voice. “But the only other photos you have out are of your family. Obviously those guys—from your old squad—are important to you.”

“Sean and Felix.”

“You don’t talk about them,” he said, not sure why he kept going. Usually, he was comfortable with cues that people wanted silence. But her silence about them felt wrong, somehow, a discordant note in her usually harmonious personality. It nagged at him, worried him in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.

“No. I don’t.” The words should have sounded like a closed door, but her voice was soft. Sad.

Alarm twisted through him. “Did they do something to you?”

She turned in his arm, anguish in her big brown eyes. “No!” It was his turn to freeze. He hated that he’d pushed her to this corner. Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut? He was usually so good at that. But around Thea, his usual filters seemed gone. Obliterated. His worry for her had overridden his usual caution.

She swallowed, her throat convulsing, her eyes closing. “They’re like brothers to me. Sean—the big guy—he got really badly injured in a callout in the spring. I thought he might die. And...” She ran a hand through her hair, shaggy with bedhead, strands sticking straight up in a way that in any other context he would find endearing, but now he found distressing. Her gaze lifted to meet his again, glassy with unshed tears that ripped his heart open. “And that was when I started to lose my nerve. I went into emergency services when my favorite cousin had to leave it. I felt young, invincible. But Sean really was the most invincible guy I’d ever met. And there he was—alive, but completely reliant on his girlfriend for just about everything. Pale. Sick. Injured. It rattled me in a way I didn’t know was possible.” Her face crumpled, her mouth going square with grief.

Simon took her cup from her hands and put it down on the table with his, then folded her in his arms. “Is he okay?”

She nodded, her hair rubbing against his shoulder.

“Good.” He hated to see her like this, but maybe she needed to get that grief out. It didn’t seem right that she should wall off such a traumatic event and never talk about it. “I’m sorry,” he said as tears began to soak through his shirt. “But you know what? In some ways you’re my Sean.”

“What do you mean?” She sniffed, and he grasped her shoulders, pulling her away from him a little so he could look her in the eye.

“I thought you were fearless. I thought you were invincible. Turns out, you were more than that. You were brave.”

Her eyebrows crimped together and she sniffed again. “What’s the difference?”

“Fearless means you either don’t feel anything or you ignore what you feel. All too often, it’s foolishness. But bravery means you know what fear looks like and you work through it. Bravery also knows when you’ve had enough and says so. You did both of those things.”

She sniffed and her eyes slid sideways.

“How is Sean now?” He didn’t feel great that the question came easier now that he’d learned the big man had a girlfriend. But there was always Felix. How she might’ve felt about him now that they weren’t colleagues anymore. Shut it down , he thought. She said those guys were her brothers. Plus, she was here with him. She’d chosen him. She’d opened up to him. Accepted his comfort when he offered it.

Another sniff. “Sean’s all better. Or he says he is. He’s back on the job.”

“Do you miss it? The job?”

She seemed to seriously consider the question. “Sometimes? I like learning new things, so the new job has been really fun in a way I haven’t had much of for a long time. But mostly I just miss the squad.”

There was the truth he’d suspected all along. “And I bet they miss you too.”

“Yeah?” Her voice, so small, so cracked, nearly broke his heart.

“Yeah. And I’ll bet they’ll be ready for you whenever you’re ready for them.”

Wrung out from the unexpected emotion, Thea stretched, shrugging off Simon’s arm. He was being so sweet, but sweetness was going to crack her open and she wasn’t ready for that. “Breakfast?” she asked with a sort of unnatural chirpiness that sounded harsh in her own ears. “I’m glad you figured the coffee machine out. It’s an unexpected luxury, waking up with caffeine already made.”

Okay, now she was just babbling.

She slid forward, ready to get up, but looked back. It was a mistake. Never look back. His face was a little sad, a little understanding. A lot heartbreaking. She took a deep breath and extended a hand. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Doesn’t matter. What would you say to going back to bed?”

A grin stretched her face. “Oh, are you tired?”

He skimmed the shell of her ear with a fingertip, making her shivery and ticklish. “Exhausted. I’m not sure how I am still upright.” How did he make his face so serious but still show laughter in his eyes?

“Well.” She linked her hand with his, tugging him back toward the bedroom. “Let’s get you off your feet. I’d hate to have you collapse.”

“You did spend a decade in emergency services. I assume you have the skills to keep me alive.”

She turned in the doorway, lifting her fingertips to feel the pulse in his neck. His heartbeat was strong and sure. Maybe a little fast. “I think you need mouth-to-mouth.” She cracked up then, not able to maintain a poker face while making a joke that corny.

He cupped her cheeks, stilling her laughter. “Yeah. I think I do.” The kiss that followed started with a nip of his teeth on her lower lip, then progressed to a confident press of his mouth on hers, their faces slanting, tongues tangling until she was breathless. The backs of her legs hit the edge of her bed, and she realized he’d walked her backward without her even being aware of it. He pulled back a little, reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Finding a condom, he tossed it on her bedside table.

“Now...” he murmured, tugging gently at the tie that belted her robe closed. “Last night, I came up with some theories I want to test this morning.”

“Theories?” she asked as he pushed the robe off her shoulders. It puddled at her feet and she straightened her spine. He’d made it clear last night that he liked her body. She liked it too—it was strong and capable—but his appreciation was next-level and it gave her an additional boost.

“Yeah. Theories.” He kissed her again. “Lie down in the middle of the bed.”

“Okay...” She complied, watching him as he took his shirt off, then climbed onto the mattress at her feet. “Just the shirt?”

“For now,” he said, grasping her ankles and pulling them apart. Then he slid his palms up the inside of her legs, making goose bumps break out on her skin. Finally, he lowered himself, draped her knees over his shoulders, and his mouth covered her pussy.

Holy shit.

Ah, yes. Thea’s clit was exquisitely sensitive and she definitely liked his tongue. He tickled it lightly, the barest touch with the tip, and she groaned. He gave her another lick, tracing the edge of one labia, then giving her clit another one of those delicate touches that had pleased her before. Her taste, her smell intoxicated him, and he ground his hips into the mattress, his own arousal competing with his desire to make her wild with pleasure.

He lifted his head and looked up her body as he slid one finger into her, curling it upward, pulling a shuddering sigh from her. “What do you want?” he asked, letting his finger pulse and curl inside her, seeking to stimulate her as much as he possibly could.

“More.” The single syllable was another ragged groan. He grinned and dipped his head, increasing the pressure of his tongue on that swelling, stiffening bud as he added another finger. Her head thrashed on the pillow and her thighs trembled on his shoulders. God, she was so close already. But he knew her orgasm would be more powerful if he drew it out.

He lessened the touch of his tongue but kept up the insistent pulse and curl of his fingers. She shuddered again. “Bastard.”

He chuckled and nuzzled into the soft flesh of her inner thigh with the dusting of whiskers that had bristled into being overnight, eliciting another groan, this one almost a wail. He gave her skin a gentle nip with his teeth and returned his mouth to her pussy, teasing and licking until he could hear her panting, her chest heaving.

“Simon.” Her voice was ragged, pleading. Almost a whine.

“Mmm.” He gave her a more muscular lick, and her hips shifted restlessly. He debated keeping her there on that knife-edge for as long as he could, savoring her reactions: breath sawing, legs trembling, hands curling into the coverlet as if she could rip an orgasm out of the cotton.

“Please.” Now she was barely whispering. “Now. Please. Now,” she chanted.

He took pity on her, flicking her clit with his tongue until her whole body shuddered and she sobbed out her release, her inner walls squeezing his fingers.

Drawing his soaked hand away, he licked away the remains of her arousal, amused at the way she peered at him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re evil .”

“Were you satisfied?” he asked, army crawling up her body until he could kiss her.

“You know I was.” Another tremor went through her body, then she softened underneath him. She drew in a long breath, let it out. Then, seeming to regain her energy, she slid her hands between them and fumbled with the button of his jeans, getting it open and barely able to slide the zipper down since he was practically lying flush on top of her. His throbbing cock protested as he reduced the pressure by lifting his hips, and she shoved his clothes down, his erection springing free like it was escaping jail. She twisted and stretched an arm out to try to get the condom he’d so casually tossed on the bedside table. It was just beyond her reach and she gave an adorable, furious little grunt of frustration.

“Patience,” he soothed, rising to his feet and pushing his jeans and underwear off. Free now to roll over, she did, snagging the packet. But before she could get on her back again, he got back on the bed, smoothing his hands over the tight curve of her ass. “Mmm. I didn’t get a good look at this before.”

“Look your fill.” She pulled her knees underneath her and rose to her hands, pushing her butt against his erection.

“Oh, you are really going to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked.

She swayed back and forth, brushing him with her ass, then lifted the condom, wafting it in time with her hips.

“You say I’m evil,” he muttered, snatching the packet from her fingers.

“Payback’s a bitch and so am I,” she said as he dealt with the wrapper and rolled it on, then rubbed the head of his cock up and down, paying special attention to her clit until she collapsed to her elbows and whimpered.

“There we go.” He grinned and slid home.

Oh, she’d suspected that Simon would feel good when he finally got inside her, but he felt good . He smoothed his hands down the slope of her back as he drove inside. There was something tender and oddly intimate about such a nonsexual touch combined with his unrestrained carnality. He drew out again, dragging himself ever so slowly until she was almost empty, then filling her up again with the same agonizing, gradual motion.

Bracing herself on her elbows as he pressed himself just a bit tighter to her body, she looked back over her shoulder. “You are king of the long buildup,” she growled.

He gripped her hips and gave her another long, slow thrust. “What makes you think I don’t like drawing out my own pleasure the same way I like to draw yours out?”

She grunted as he slid home again, her sensitized, swollen flesh magnifying every sensation. “Fair. I guess.”

“C’mere,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her and leaning back until she was resting on his thighs, his cock still inside her and her back pressed to his chest.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her own voice hazy in her ears. He couldn’t exactly thrust in this position, but she did feel lovely and full.

Sliding his hands up her torso, he cupped her breasts and began to tease the back of her neck with his lips and teeth and tongue. Thea knew her neck was sensitive, but impaled on him like this, her knees wide, she felt exposed and helpless and very, very turned on. Each nip, lick and kiss seemed to send signals to her clit and he hadn’t even touched her there since he entered her.

Then he started to play with her nipples, pinching and tugging in the way he’d done the night before, stopping just shy of pain, sending more sensations shooting through her.

“That’s it. Take it. Take me,” he murmured against her neck, nipping one earlobe. She began to rock, to undulate, seeking more sensation as she ground on his cock, almost finding what she was seeking—incredibly—with no external stimulation of her clit.

She groaned, a ragged, frustrated sound, and he chuckled, hot breath puffing against her skin. Then a particular twist of her hips and a well-timed tug on her nipples sent her unexpectedly spiraling, shuddering, soaring. Simon cursed, and she dropped back to her hands and knees as he began to pump into her in earnest, a final quick snap of his hips punctuated by a soft moan of satisfaction.

Thea’s eyes slid closed as she collapsed onto the bed, Simon following, covering her like a living blanket. Both of them breathed hard, as if they’d been running.

“I need to deal with the condom,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly against her neck.

“Ngh.” She wasn’t capable of more at the moment. She didn’t want him to move, but she did know he was right.

He pushed himself up as if gravity had doubled, and she heard him go to the bathroom, the toilet flush, the water run. Then he was back, rolling her to one side and the other so he could get the covers over her and slide in beside her as if he was just as at home here as she was. She realized, as he tucked her hair behind one ear and gave her a slightly loopy smile, that she didn’t feel put out or that he was being presumptuous. She liked that he felt at home here, in her place.

“I didn’t know my body could do that,” she said when the power of speech returned to her.

“Do what?”

“Come without direct contact on my clit. How did you know?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t. I just experimented with what I knew turned you on.”

“Man of science,” she mumbled right before she slid back into sleep.