The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

continued her erotic dance atop his body. “Simon, I feel—”
    “I feel it, too,” he murmured, and his voice was a sigh in the roar of her own blood.
    As she moved on him, he dropped one hand to thejoining of their bodies and stroked her with a single fingertip. Again and again, he caressed her until she was trembling, aching for the release she knew was hanging just out of her reach.
    She gasped, she fought for air, fought to hang on to the rising climb of her body’s tension. She wanted that climax and at the same time, didn’t want this moment to end. She wanted to trap them somehow in time—right here, right now. To hold this position for eternity—this one exquisite moment just before the tremendous release she felt getting nearer.
    Simon’s body bucked beneath her as he exploded, she heard him shout her name and still, he touched her, never stopping, never easing until all at once, she saw stars erupt behind her closed eyelids and felt the world rise up and then dissolve around her.
    And she wondered…who had taken whom?
    Two hours later, they were sprawled across the continent of their bed. The remains of a hastily grabbed snack lay scattered across the sheets and a half-empty bottle of wine was being passed back and forth between them.
    Megan put her mouth on the bottle and tipped it back, taking a long drink of the smooth, tart wine. Then grinning, she said, in the stuffiest voice she could manage, “An impudent wine, with the grace of maturity and just the slightest touch of adolescence.”
    Simon’s mouth twitched as he took the bottle fromher and had a long drink himself. “Tart, yet sweet. Bold, but not too sassy.”
    “Not bad,” Megan said, nodding. “You’ve been to wine tastings before.”
    “A few,” he admitted, leaning against the pillows stacked against the carved headboard. He lifted one knee and rested his forearm atop it. “None as casual as this one, though.”
    “Casual?” Megan asked and crawled across the mattress until she was right next to him. She couldn’t stand to stay on the opposite side of the wide mattress. She needed to touch him, to trail her fingertips across his skin, to smooth her hands over his whole body, to feel him get hard for her again.
    Oh boy.
    She collapsed in a heap over his broad and really exceptionally well muscled chest. Every bone in her body felt like an overcooked noodle. She’d never been so limp with satisfaction—and so hungry for more. “I think we’re dressed very appropriately.”
    He ran his palm over her behind, squeezing, stroking, and Megan damn near purred as she moved beneath his touch. Honestly, who would have guessed that stiff and stern Simon Pearce had so many hidden talents? The man was a wizard. He’d done things to her body tonight that she hadn’t even dreamed of. He’d taken her higher and faster than she’d ever been before.
    And, she wanted him again.
    Her heart rolled over in her chest.
    More, she wanted him to want her.
    “If we keep this up, we’ll kill each other,” Simon mused, his hand still caressing her bottom with long, lazy strokes.
    Megan didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to risk him stopping touching her. But she chanced a look over her shoulder at him. “There are worse ways to go.”
    “True.” His eyes darkened. Even in the pale, soft light thrown from the lamp on the nightstand, she could see his features tighten. She watched hunger flash in his eyes and she swallowed hard.
    Megan’s stomach pitched and swirled.
    Her mouth went dry and certain other parts of her body dampened in anticipation. Oh, she’d had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into when she’d agreed to a temporary marriage to Simon Pearce.
    And if she had known?
    “I have to have you again,” Simon whispered, his voice a soft growl in the shadows. As he spoke, his hand slipped down between her legs, his fingers delving into her heat.
    Megan parted her thighs for him then slid her eyes closed and concentrated on the incredible sensations building within her again.
    If she’d known?
    She wouldn’t have waited a week.

Chapter Nine
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    “I don’t care if the Peabody Corporation withdraws from the deal.” Simon leaned back in his desk chair and stared at his assistant.
    Dave Healy shook his head, blinked, then tipped his left ear toward his boss. “Excuse me? Would you mind repeating that?”
    “Funny.” Wryly, Simon smiled. “I mean it, Dave. If the old man wants to pull out of this deal,