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I stare into his emerald eyes. “I don’t want to regret anything.”
Simon skims his knuckles along my cheek. “What could you possibly regret?”
"Not saying yes." I swallow and flit my attention to his lips for a brief second.
“Yes to what?”
“You.”
For a moment, the whole place quiets down, the sound muffles and fades into the background. Everyone is gone, except for us. Just me and this beautiful man who has done everything for me since the moment I met him. The one who declared that I would be his before I even knew his name. The one that vowed to wait forever. And that gave up everything on the off chance that it could bring me back to life. The guy everyone views as an arrogant fuck-boy happens to be one of the kindest and most considerate men I've ever come across. He puts my needs above his, and he’s been there for me when no one else was.
“What do you want, love?” Simon keeps moving our bodies together to the distant beat.
“You.” I stand taller. “I want you.” And right now, with the whole world watching, I refuse to miss this opportunity to finally take that step.
“Love…” Simon hesitates.
“We might not get another chance, Simon.” I hover my face closer.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t want that to be the reason you kiss me.”
I graze my nose along his. “You know that’s not why.” With my hands draped around his neck, my grip barely hanging onto the glass of bourbon, I step closer to him. “Kiss me, Simon.”
And because he never fails at giving me what I want, he presses his lips to mine, melting them softly at first, but then picking up his pace. He tilts his head to the side and parts my lips with his tongue. He keeps one hand on my waist and the other gripping the base of my skull, angling me up toward him. He moans into my mouth, and I swear to God if we weren’t in the middle of this fucking dance floor, I would rip my clothes off to get as close to him as humanly possible.
He snakes his knee between my legs and continues to move us to the beat with his mouth not daring to leave mine. He deepens the kiss and tightens his grip on my side. I grind on his thigh and my core binds at the pressure of him on me.
Simon presses on the small of my back, applying more pressure between my aching center and his leg. He swirls his tongue along mine and bites at my bottom lip. "Love," he breathes into me. "You're sweeter than I imagined." He kisses me again, but this time it's soft and gentle and nothing like the inferno only moments ago. But despite it not being as forceful, it's intense in its own way. And when he rocks me on him just fucking right, I orgasm right here in the chaos of this nightclub. His mouth bears the brunt of the moan that leaves me. He trails a few soft kisses on my lips and then my nose, and grins triumphantly.
I breathlessly pant and pretend I didn’t just grind against his leg so hard I climaxed in public. My cheeks flush at the thought that either of my friends just witnessed me pleasuring myself on Simon’s damn thigh.
“No one noticed, love.” Simon drags the hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear, leaning in to whisper, “But if a show is what you want…we can give them one.”
“Simon!” I playfully smack him and adjust my dress before standing all the way up. My legs buckle slightly but I regain my composure.
Thatwas definitely not part of the plan.
And honestly, it’s not something that I should continue to think about because all it’s going to do is distract me from what we’re trying to accomplish here.
It was exhilarating, but it was forbidden and off-limits. I crossed a line that I cannot take back, and there will be consequences for my actions. Not just with me and Simon, but with my men, too. They've made it clear how they feel about him, and I went ahead and took what I wanted anyway. We never exactly discussed the exclusivity of our open relationship, not in great detail, but Simon has always been their enemy.
That will be a conversation for another day. One where my life isn't hanging so much in the balance, and when I've thought about how I want to handle the things they've put me through these last few months. I may be working with them on this, but that doesn't mean I have forgiven or forgotten how badly what they've done has damaged us.
I glance at Claire and tip my head toward a suspicious-looking dude. "I think we have a bite," I tell Simon.
His jaw tenses and the carefree nature that was once on him is no longer there. “You remember what I taught you, right?”
I nod and stare into his mesmerizing green eyes. “I’ve got this.” I release my hold on him and down the rest of the bourbon, leaving my glass with him and latching onto Claire’s hand and tugging her away before Cora can realize we’re leaving.
Simon keeps his gaze pinned on mine until the crowd swallows him up.
“Think this is our guy?” Claire leans over and asks me, glancing behind us briefly.
The man I spotted trails us, only a few feet in our wake.
We turn down the hall toward the bathroom and lead him along the dim corridor.
He picks up his pace, my skin crawling at his nearness. The mystery man reaches into his suit jacket and I prepare myself for the familiar fabric that will be pressed over my face and rendering me unconscious.
