Perfectly Pink - An It's Always Been You Romance (Complete)

Chapter 29

Traffic was light on the way back to Bridgetown. Simon insisted Mary return with him as they were both going to the same place and travelling by highway was easier and faster. Emily waited for her at the lake house, informing their father Mary wouldn't be coming back to Washington as planned.

Mary wasn't sure she wanted faster. Their morning together had been lazy and glorious. Ravenous from the night's activities, they'd inhaled the delicious breakfast, fighting for the last bite of the French toast. Even the coffee tasted out of this world. They'd shared everything, just like they had last night. And this morning.

From the moment she bumped into him in the hotel lobby yesterday, everything felt almost magical, like she was in a movie, the best version of what her life could be like. A man she thought of as a satisfying way to scratch a sexual itch had become Simon, the man who satisfied her every want, need and whim. Mary shifted in the passenger's seat, her body aching in a most glorious way from their late-night endeavours.

"Are you okay?" Simon squeezed her thigh. Once they'd weaved their way through the congested streets of New York and joined the interstate, Simon's hand found her thigh and remained there. His touch both calming and exciting. "Do you need a break?"

She smiled at him. And at his kindness. It felt good to be taken care of, to not have to fight every moment, to be something she wasn't or didn't want to be. "I wouldn't mind stretching my legs."

Although he never took his eyes off the road, Mary knew what she'd see there if he faced her. The blue lightening in his eyes that turned her insides to lava. She'd seen the look this morning, the last romp in that king sized bed had been different. Beyond sex, there had been something more in the exchange between them, a vulnerability, an honesty, a give and take like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

And then he'd said those words.

Simon says love me.

It took every ounce of strength she had to not move, not look into his electric eyes and tell him she did. Saying the words would have been easy, her heart full, her soul content. But that small voice in the back of her head shouted loudly that now was not the time. She needed to think. To sort out what last night... and this morning meant. It was easy to love Simon, yet was it the right thing to do?

Instead of spilling the contents of her heart, Mary had maintained the illusion she was asleep. Until Simon woke her, all smiles and offering coffee and food.

They ate in bed, wrapped in the plush hotel robes, platters of food between them. Since licking the plates seemed a tad overboard, they relented to leaving the bed and the hotel room. Simon lent her a shirt, which she wore as a jacket over her crumpled dress, cinching it around the waist with one of his belts. In an attempt to wrangle her unruly hair into some semblance of normal, since the hotel lacked a hair straightener, she borrowed one of his ties and used it like a headband.

In the bathroom, Mary sat on the counter, her leg pressed against his thigh as he shaved. Watched the slow, purposeful strokes of the razor across his jaw, chin, and neck, through the white shaving cream, reminding her of his gentle touch.

"Can I?" She reached for the razor.

Without hesitation, he passed her the blade. She rinsed it in the warm water from the tap, shifted so he stood between her legs, tilted his head up and gingerly scraped the razor along the underside of his chin. Fingertips found her hips and staked their claim as she continued removing the fine stubble he'd grown over night. Line by line drawn over his skin, Simon stood patiently as she stripped him bare. The sense of control paired with trust was heady.

When she finished, Mary picked up a towel and patted his face to remove any remaining residue. He laughed at her gentle touch, taking the material out of her hands and making quick work of the task.