Our Fault by Mercedes Ron

Author:Mercedes Ron [Ron, Mercedes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

31

Noah

I’d made the decision in haste, but that night in bed, I realized it was the best thing I could have done. I had to get it over with, and there was no way I would ever do so working under Nick.

Simon called several times, hoping to get in touch with me and find out if I was okay. I’d ignored him. I was too focused on my anger at Nicholas. But I had to pick up eventually. I asked him if he minded if I went to see him at home, and when he got past the surprise, he happily gave me his address.

He lived in a complex only a block from Nick’s place. By the time I reached the door, I knew what I had to do.

Simon looked worried as he opened up. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and a baggy dark red T-shirt. Red—the same color I saw everything in just then. I didn’t even let him speak. I just threw myself into his arms.

Suck on that, Nicholas Leister.

Simon grabbed me around the waist with one arm and shut the door with the other. Soon he was lifting me off the ground in a gesture that reminded me too much of Nick. What the hell was it with dudes picking me up and carrying me?

Noah, focus.

He set me on the counter, and I leaned back, trying to gauge what his reaction had been. He was looking at me as if I were a stranger.

“When you called an hour ago to tell me you were coming, I promise you, this is the last thing I thought would happen.”

I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t need that just then. I needed to get Nicholas out of my head, my body, my soul. Simon’s green eyes with blond lashes stared at me as I took off my T-shirt and sat there before him in my bra.

“Jesus,” Simon said, diving back in toward my mouth again.

I let him play with my tongue for as long as he wished, but when his hand descended my bare back, I stiffened involuntarily.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand pausing on the clasp of my bra.

“Yeah, just…can we go to your room?”

Darkness…that was what I needed. For the first time in a long time. Simon smiled and picked me up again, carrying me to a door in a shadowy hallway.

“I know how to walk,” I couldn’t help saying.

“I know you do, but I like feeling you the way I am right now.”

And I could feel him, too—could feel his erection pressing into my body like a steel rod. Simon laid me on the bed, took off his T-shirt, and stretched out over me, careful not to crush me as he deposited soft kisses on my stomach. I closed my eyes. No, goddammit, why? Why did I want to cry so badly?

He unbuttoned the top button of my pants. It made me remember Michael, that night, his lips on my skin, his mouth on my mouth.

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