Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Being bold in business was good.

But being bold in personal and potentially sexual situations was even better.

The reward certainly was.

Simon was kissing her with a passion that was new. It was like he was finally unleashing a part of himself because there would be no interruptions and they were finally going to be all alone. As much as she liked Nikki, Juliette silently hoped she and Celia would pack up and leave quickly.

There was a wildness to him right now—it was in his kiss and the way his hands were roaming all over her. She arched against him, and desperately wanted to drag him to the floor right now and have her way with him, but…there was still a slight chance that Nikki could come back for something.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss. "As much as I want nothing more than to keep going, we're still not alone yet."

He looked at her oddly and then seemed to realize what she was saying. Taking a step back, his hands raked through his hair—something she really enjoyed doing—and let out a long breath. "You're right. Um…why don't we go upstairs and figure out what we want for dinner? I know it's too early to eat, but we can still plan, right?"

"Definitely." Picking up her laptop, Juliette followed him up the stairs, totally ogling what an amazing butt he had. His jeans were snug and she wanted to reach out and just touch him, but…she refrained.

And it was torture.

Simon walked into the kitchen and sat down at the island. It was probably the safest place for them. They had a full view of the guest house, so they'd be able to see when Nikki left. Pulling up a stool for herself, she sat and opened the laptop. "I figured this is easier than staring at our phones. So, what are you in the mood for?"

His laugh was low and throaty and sounded so damn sexy. Then he playfully nudged her shoulder. "What I want isn't on any menu in town, Juliette."

Her thighs clenched because she was already in sensory overload with him. "Food, Simon. Focus! Where should we order food from?"

Sighing dramatically, he took a minute to think. "We've had some decent pizza and Chinese food. The Mexican we had last week was just okay. I had really planned on us going out for a nice dinner, but I'm not sure we can get delivery from one of the more upscale places."

"Oh, please…are you telling me that Nikki never gets you dinner delivered from fantastic places while you're on tour?"

"She does, but…"

Holding her hand up to stop him, she stood. "I'll be right back."

"What…why…?"

Over the course of her career, she'd never had to do something like ordering dinner for a celebrity. So while Nikki was still here, she figured she'd pick her brain and see if there were any trade secrets to making it happen.

"Hey, Jules!" Celia said as she came out of the guest house with a suitcase. "It was so nice to meet you and I hope we get to hang out again!"

"Definitely! You made me feel like part of the group before anyone else, and I appreciate that. And all the cake," she added with a wink. "Feel free to leave some behind before you go!"

Laughing, they walked into the house. Nikki was in the kitchen wiping down the counters. "Hey! Is everything okay?"

"Simon and I wanted to order dinner in, but not basic takeout," she explained. "I wasn't sure if there was some sort of magic way to get celebrity dining without name dropping and maybe not being believed."

That made her laugh. "Ah, gotcha. No worries. Get Simon over here so I know what you guys want, and I'll take care of it."

"Nik, you don't have to. Just tell me…"

"Trust me, I've got it down to a science." She pulled out her phone and tapped out a text. "It was easier for me to text him. Now, what are you in the mood for?"

There was that question again, and she forced herself not to react.

"I wouldn't say no to a nice steak…"

"That's Simon's go-to too. This will be easy."

"Hey, what's going on?" Simon asked when he walked in.

"Dinner. Juliette wants steak. What about you?"

The whole thing took five minutes and Nikki was on the phone finessing her way through the ordering process and arranging delivery for seven o'clock. Smiling, she hung up the phone.

"Now that was impressive," Juliette told her.

"Money's an excellent incentive," she said. "You'll have to let me know how it is, but we want to get on the road and hopefully get home before it's too dark."

They all hugged again before she and Simon walked back to the main house. It was only a little after four, which meant…

"We have almost three hours to kill," she said as soon as they were through the door. "What can we possibly do with all that time?" And yeah, she felt a little silly saying it, but she knew what she wanted his answer to be.

Gently tugging her into his arms, they were toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose. "Be very sure, Juliette," he said gruffly. "We can wait to be sure that Nikki and Celia are gone, or we can go to my room right now, lock the door, and do what we both want."

Her knees went weak even as indecision warred within her. Go inside now? It would be so easy. But what if…?

"We said our goodbyes. Twice," she said, letting out a shaky breath. There was no turning back after this. Once she and Simon made love, everything was going to change. It was possibly career suicide, but…she couldn't fight this. And it wasn't as if he had been actively pursuing her or even trying to seduce her. There was simply something between them she couldn't ignore, no matter how hard she tried.

And in the beginning, she really had.

Beginning? Pfft…that was a week ago…

Okay, there was that, but still. She knew it wouldn't matter because they were eventually going to be exactly where they were right now.

His hand caressed her jaw, her throat, as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Come to bed with me, Juliette. Let me make love to you."

Now she was practically in a puddle at his feet.

"Yes, please," she said quietly.

There was no swooping up in his arms or a mad dash out of the room, they simply walked hand-in-hand to his room. Once they crossed the threshold, Simon shut the door and locked it.

Juliette walked across the room and stopped beside the bed. She watched as Simon slowly made his way toward her. Her throat felt dry and her heart raced, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The man oozed sex appeal and she'd seen videos of him performing, but the man in front of her now wasn't the rock star or pop star. He wasn't doing a swagger for an audience. Right now, he was just a man who was seemingly comfortable in his own skin and knew what he wanted.

Her.

That was a pretty heady thing to come to grips with. Juliette never saw herself as the kind of woman who could attract someone like Simon. He was a universal sex symbol and she was just…Juliette. Badass publicist Juliette. But the way he looked at her made her feel like the sexiest and most desirable woman in the world.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, caressing her face again. His hand skimmed lower until he cupped her breast. "Do you have any idea how you've challenged my self-control this week? Every night I wanted to shut off that damn TV, peel those little pajamas off of you, and kiss every inch, every delectable curve of your body."

"I really wish you would have," she admitted, running her hands over his chest, shoulders, and biceps. "The penguins were cute and all, but…"

"I had to find the least sexy thing possible to watch to try to kill the mood," he said with a small laugh. "No TV today, though. When I get you into my bed, Juliette, you will have my full attention for as long as you want it, wherever you want it."

The moan was out before she could even try to stop it, and it was all the incentive Simon needed to close the distance between them and kiss her. It was deep and wet and utterly carnal. No man had ever kissed her like this and it was bordering on overwhelming, but she grasped the front of his shirt and held on.

Gently, he guided her down onto the mattress and covered her body with his. The sundress she was wearing was slightly modest—it was the perfect combination of business casual and comfort for their video call—and right now, it allowed her to wrap herself around him with very little between them.

Lifting his head, Simon smiled down at her. "Have I mentioned how much I love these dresses you wear?" he asked as his hand smoothed up the side of her leg before coming to rest on her thigh. "I've been dying to know what you wear under them. You're always fully covered when we crawl into bed each night."

Slowly, Juliette put some space between them before inching her dress up to expose the white lace thong she was wearing.

"Damn, Juliette," he said, his voice deep and a little breathless. "If I had even the slightest clue you were wearing this sort of thing under your pajamas, the penguins would have gotten the axe days ago."

She giggled and almost cringed. She wasn't the giggling sort.

His hand reverently touched the lace covering her. "You really are trying to kill me."

"Yeah, but what a way to go, right?" she teased.

"Absolutely." Then he was kissing her again and she tightened her legs around his waist, keeping him close—not that she suspected that he was going to try to get away.

One kiss blended perfectly into the next until she could barely breathe. Tearing her mouth away, she panted, "I need you, Simon. Please."

After that, his hands snaked under her dress as he pushed it up and off her body. His t-shirt was next and then his jeans. He stood briefly and all she could think was that he was pure male perfection. Italian artists would want to carve him out of marble. The stark black ink on his chest was a surprise. The lion looked so lifelike—for a moment it felt like it was breathing and staring directly at her. Glancing up, she met his heated gaze and let out a shaky breath. She'd never seen a more perfect body. And when he peeled off his briefs, she almost forgot how to breathe.

This time when she said his name, it was a breathless plea. He was back on the bed, covering her again, and it was the skin on skin that kicked everything up a notch.

He kissed her lips, her cheek, her jaw. "You're so beautiful." Moving lower, he spent a lot of time kissing and teasing her nipples. "So sexy." And then lower still.

Juliette's hands raked through his hair before clenching it and arching against him. And then time ceased to exist.

It was after two in the morning and Simon was the most relaxed he'd been in years. Juliette was naked and breathless in his arms. She had seriously rocked his world—multiple times—and he was already thinking about the next time.

That first time had been slow and languid and full of exploration on both their parts. It was a complete sensory experience learning what she liked, how she wanted to be touched, and what made her cry out his name. Afterwards, they'd taken a shower together in his luxurious bathroom before lazily waiting for their dinner to arrive. She'd put on his t-shirt—the one he'd taken off when they first came into his bedroom—and then put his robe on over it. She looked so good in his things that he wanted to keep her in them for as long as he possibly could.

Which was until they had to leave this house.

Still, what fascinated him more than anything was how he always loved having Nikki and her family around and never gave their conversations as a group a second thought, but now that he and Juliette were alone, it felt like they were both talking on a deeper level. He was really enjoying peeling back these layers to who she was and discovering new things.

For example, she was a rabid sports fan and loved all New York teams. Hockey was her absolute favorite one to watch though. She only occasionally watched football and wasn't ashamed to admit that while Jax was an excellent player, she would always root for the Jets. He kind of appreciated how she wasn't suddenly going to gush over his brother just for his sake.

Besides the sports, she admitted that while she'd been eating healthy since arriving here in the mountains, her favorite things to eat other than pasta were deli sandwiches. And not the sandwiches they'd been making themselves, but the kind you'd find in a New York delicatessen.

He had to agree with her on that one. No place in the world made better sandwiches.

Her bucket list included going to the top of the Eiffel Tower, seeing the Northern Lights, and visiting an actual castle in Scottland. There were more things, but those top three she seemed the most passionate about. There was a whimsical side to her that he'd never seen before and he hoped to see more of.

They talked food, music, movies…her favorite snack? Peanut butter cups. Her favorite movies were everything by Mel Brooks and the first two Godfather movies. The topic of music was almost comical because she admitted to not being familiar with a lot of his stuff, and preferring bands who were a little heavier rock than his. That didn't offend him because he knew he was more of a contemporary pop star and that he wasn't everyone's cup of tea.

The soft kiss on his chest broke him out of his reverie.

"What are you thinking right now?" she whispered.

Smiling, he placed a kiss on her brow. "I was thinking of all the amazing things I learned about you tonight," he said softly. "You're a fascinating woman, Juliette. What do your parents think of this crazy career of yours? Have they ever met any of your clients?"

She didn't answer, but Simon could feel that she had tensed up. He was about to change the subject—or at the very least apologize if he said something to offend her—but he felt her let out a shuddery breath and knew she had something to say.

"My parents died when I was eight," she said, her voice almost void of emotion. "My grandparents—my mother's parents—raised me." She paused. "Well, they were the ones I lived with, but both sets of grandparents were heavily involved in my life."

His heart broke for her. Kissing the top of her head, Simon held her a little closer. "Juliette, I'm so sorry."

"I don't…I don't talk about it a lot because it's something I don't like to think about."

"I can't even imagine." And now he felt awful for making her think about it. They'd had the most perfect evening and he'd gone and ruined it.

Curling a little more into him, she let out a soft sigh. "They were a volatile pair. I remember the fighting. It was like that was all they did was fight. But it was more than just arguments. Dishes got thrown, glasses smashed, and there were more than a few holes in the walls of our apartment. You have no idea how many times my grandparents—and sometimes our neighbors—would come and get me just to get me out of that hostile environment."

Memories of his own childhood flashed through his mind. He understood this far more than she knew.

"I used to dream of running away," she went on. "I used to imagine it would take them days or weeks to even realize I was gone. Then, one night, they decided to go out on a date night. I still remember how eerily peaceful that entire day was and praying that their date would magically change everything."

"Juliette, you don't have to…"

Tilting her head back, she looked up at him. The only light in the room was moonlight, but he could see her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I want you to know this, so you really know me, Simon."

Sadly, all he could do was nod.

"My grandmother came over to pick me up. We went shopping for groceries, and when we got to her house, we made homemade mac and cheese." She laughed softly. "We'd never made it before and I thought it would be fun to have. My grandfather complained because it wasn't pasta the way he wanted it, but after he tried it, he announced it was his new favorite dish."

This time her pause was long and he didn't dare say anything, but he was holding his breath because he knew what was coming.

"They were driving home from dinner. My father's blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit and he was driving the wrong way on the highway. Basically, he was drunk and speeding and probably distracted. There isn't a doubt in my mind that they were arguing. It was a head-on collision and they were both killed instantly. So was the driver of the car they hit."

Simon felt her tears on his chest and shoulders as he held her tight. "Oh God, Juliette. I'm so sorry. I don't even know what to say."

And he didn't. It didn't matter that this happened over twenty years ago; there was no way that pain was any less for her, or that his sympathy was any less sincere.

"I became an unholy terror after that," she went on. "I lashed out in all the stereotypical ways. I was in trouble in school all the time, I terrorized the neighborhood, and I was just awful to my grandparents. But they never gave up on me. They helped me see that I wasn't acting out because I was a bad person; it was because I was hurting, and it was the only way I had to cope. Eventually they sent me for counseling and even though I was only twelve when I started going, I knew it saved my life."

He continued to hold her because there wasn't anything else he could do. There was no way of him knowing if there was anything else she was going to say, and he didn't want to just abruptly change the subject.

"That's why I'm a little…you know…stiff at times, Simon. I keep people at a distance because…"

"Because you've lost so much," he finished for her.

"Exactly." She let out a long breath. "Sorry. I know that was a lot of information to dump on you when we were having such a good night." Lifting her head, she smiled sadly down at him. "I promise not to do that again."

His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt like maybe her confession wasn't such a bad thing because he had one of his own.

"While we're deep into this kind of conversation, I feel like I owe you an explanation of my own."

"Oh?"

Nodding, he gently guided her head back to his shoulder. "My parents had a crappy marriage as well," he said gruffly. "It was one of those things where they met in college, got physical way too fast, realized they weren't particularly compatible, and then found out my mom was pregnant." Shaking his head, he continued. "They both dropped out of college—my mom wanted to become a nurse, and my dad thought he was going to play football professionally."

"So Jax takes after him…oops, sorry," she whispered, but he laughed softly.

"It's okay, and yes, Jax takes after him. Anyway, they had Noah and then, a little less than two years later, they had me. But, like you, I remember the fighting. Dad was a heavy drinker and so many times he would just disappear for days and then come stumbling home, looking and smelling like the bottom of a bottle of beer. It was awful."

"That's why…"

But he placed a finger over her lips. She'd been brave enough to share her story; he needed to be able to do the same.

"I developed an interest in music when I was young, and my father used to mock me unmercifully for it because it wasn't manly. He expected Noah and I to be athletes, but it was never my thing. Noah did some and I'm ashamed to admit he protected me more than a brother should have to. Whenever my dad started to pick on me—usually when he was drunk and in a bad mood—Noah always stepped in to deflect his attention."

"That's terrible! Didn't your father realize how talented you were?"

"If it wasn't sports, he didn't care. So I spent a good portion of my life being openly mocked, ridiculed, and basically terrorized by him. What he didn't realize was that it just made me retreat more into music. That's where I found my solace. Music—whether I was singing it or just listening to it—took me away from the crappy reality we were living in." Pausing, he placed yet another kiss on her head. "My mom threw him out and he was gone for a while, but then she took him back. Then they found out they were pregnant with Jax. By the time he was three and knew how to throw a football, my father basically forgot all about Noah and me, and I can't tell you how relieved I was."

"Oh, Simon…"

"He hung around for a while—longer than he should have—but it was a lot of Mom throwing him out and then taking him back. It was a vicious cycle. He was screwing around all over town and he didn't care who knew it." Pausing, he sighed. "There's more to it and none of it's pretty. But here's the thing, Juliette, he still has that pattern of going away and then showing back up when you least expect it. Every couple of years, he'll pop up when I'm on tour. He never calls and I never know when it's going to happen, but he shows up with his hand out. I've come to realize that Jax runs interference these days and chances are the old man would show up more often if it weren't for my brother."

He felt her tears on his chest again.

"I refuse to give him the satisfaction of having a part in this documentary," he said fiercely. "He doesn't deserve it. He'll forget all about the years of abuse and disinterest, and want all the glory for what I've worked so hard for. And believe me, he'll expect a big paycheck as well. That's what I don't want. That's what I'm fighting for."

Lifting her head again, she asked, "Why not just tell Mick? If he knew, you know it would never be brought up again."

"Because it's embarrassing. I don't share that part of my life with anyone. Even Nikki doesn't know everything. She just knows that there's bad blood and I don't want to see him."

Her shoulders sagged as she whispered his name.

Reaching up, he caressed her face, wiping away her tears. "Juliette, I shouldn't have to share a traumatic part of my life. Yes, I'm an entertainer who is very much in the public eye, but that doesn't mean every aspect of who I am needs to be out there. The simple fact that I asked should have been enough."

Turning her head slightly, she kissed his palm. "I agree. And you have to know I never would have pushed you for that information."

"I know."

"I was curious," she admitted somberly, "but I respected your wishes, even though it was hard." She paused. "Wait…that's not true. There were times I did want to push, but…I couldn't make myself do it."

Her admission made him grin. "I appreciate you telling me that."

She studied him for a long moment. "It's funny, though. I mean, we both suffered trauma and yet…you went in the complete opposite direction. You have this positive and happy outlook on life, whereas I'm the total opposite. I'm reserved and don't trust anyone. Hell, I didn't trust you! I thought that cheery persona was total bullshit, like it was all part of the act that Simon Bennett the singer put on."

"I'd like to say that it is, but…you can ask my brothers. This is seriously who I am. Maybe part of it is a protective mechanism, but I'd much rather be happy all the time than dwell on the past and be resentful."

"I'm not resentful," she quickly argued.

Leaning up, he silenced her with a quick kiss. "That wasn't what I was saying. For me, those were the options—I could either be happy and thankful for this talent that I was blessed with, or I could dwell on the fact that my father didn't love me and spent most of my life trying to keep me down. But…what good would that do? At the end of the day, I don't have to deal with him."

"What happens when he shows up? What do you do?"

"I never see him," he admitted. "I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing my face or opening the door to more taunting. We have a plan in place. There's always security with me when I'm on the road, and if he shows up, security goes to Nikki first. There's always a check waiting. It's never as much as he asks for, but I know he goes to Jax next to get more."

"How did you find out about that?"

"Jax let it slip one night a couple of months back. We were all together with Noah having a guys' night out, and I overheard him and Noah talking about it. At first I was pissed, but…there's nothing else we can do. Personally, I'm afraid if I don't give him anything that he'll go to the press and do something embarrassing, so I do my best to placate him until the next time he shows up. It shames me to admit how much I long for the day when he stops showing up altogether."

"I don't think anyone would blame you for feeling that. I know I don't."

He smiled weakly. "Thank you." The yawn was out before he could stop it. "Sorry."

But she yawned too before settling back in his arms. "Well this certainly wasn't how I hoped this night would end," she said, and he could tell she was trying to lighten the mood.

"How were you hoping the night would end?"

"Hmm…a lot like it began." Slowly, she maneuvered so she was stretched out on top of him, and Simon's hands immediately reached down to cup her bottom. "I imagined we'd make love until neither of us could move or keep our eyes open." Lowering her head, she nipped at his jaw and then his earlobe.

Humming with appreciation, his hands smoothed up and down her back. "Go on…"

"We'd be all naked and sweaty, the sheets a tangled mess around us, and at some point, we'd wake up and do it again," she said with a soft little moan as she began to writhe seductively against him. "We'd repeat that pattern until the sun came up."

"I really like the sound of that…"

"Do you?" she purred, moving down his body and teasing his nipple with her tongue.

He was panting with need for her. "I do, Juliette. I really, really do…"

"And you know what the absolute best part would be?" she asked before twirling her tongue around his nipple again.

He shook his head. "No…tell me…"

"You'd get up and make us waffles and serve them to me in bed." Lifting her head, she gave him an impish grin. It took Simon a moment to realize she was joking with him and it was the cutest thing she'd ever done.

And because of that, he readily agreed. "You got it."

Then he reversed their positions and loved her just as she wanted—until they were exhausted and sweaty, and couldn't keep their eyes open.

And in the morning, the waffles were actually pancakes, but neither seemed to care.