Easy Kisses (Boudreaux 4)

“Good,” I reply and wrap my arms around his waist now. “Just talk to me, Simon.”

“I can do that.”

***

It’s been four days since my fight with Simon. He’s been true to his word, asking me questions when he has a concern, and he’s been even more open with me about his family. The fight sucked alligator balls, but I think it brought us to a closer place with each other.

I’ve never felt so comfortable, or more connected to, another human being the way I do Simon Danbury.

Who would have thought?

And, just like every single day since he’s been here, I close my shop on time. Just as I’m flipping the sign over to closed, Simon walks through the door, with his sexy smile all over his face.

“Hi there, handsome.”

“Well, hello, love.”

“You know,” I say as I lock the door behind him, then walk to my counter to close out the till and get ready to leave. “I’ve discovered that since you’ve been here, you’re very bad for my productivity.”

“How is that?” He leans on the counter and braces his chin on his fist, watching me.

“I’m closing the shop early, for one.”

“I do believe the sign in the window says you close at six.” He checks his watch. “And look at that, it’s six.”

“I haven’t actually closed at six since…well, I don’t remember. I usually chat with customers, redesign displays, shop for new stock. But most of that has been set aside because I seem to be spending most of my time with a certain sexy Brit. It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

He raises a brow and stands to full height, taking my breath away. His ink is on display again in a simple black T-shirt, stretched over wide, muscular shoulders.

Where did my knees go again?

“Cute, am I?”

His accent gets even thicker when he’s turned on, and it’s on full blast now.

“Adorable.”

He slowly circles around the counter and leans into me, pinning my hips against it. His lips are inches from mine.

“I don’t think a man is supposed to be cute.”

“No?” Oh, God, I can’t breathe right when he’s this close to me. His hands are on my hips now, his fingers under the hem of my blouse, and then gliding up my skin and over my bra to cup my breasts.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” Is that my voice? I sound breathy and turned on, which is pretty accurate.

“No one is here,” he says and brushes feather-soft kisses over my cheek to my ear. My body is one giant shiver. Thank God for the giant display I built today that blocks us from outside traffic.

As if by their own volition, my hands make their way down the back of his jeans to cup his very fine ass just as he nips my neck, making me gasp.

“How cute am I now?” he whispers, never taking his lips from my skin.

“You’re just precious,” I reply, hearing my own accent thicken along with his cock pressed to my belly.

“You make me laugh,” he says, smiling against my neck. “You make me so hard it hurts. And I’m grateful that you’re wearing a skirt.”

“Why is that?”

He reaches down and balls the material in his fists, raising it above my waist.

“You’re not wearing panties,” he says with surprise, his blue eyes pinned to mine.

“Not today.”

“Fucking hell, Charly.” He boosts me up on the edge of the counter and grinds his hard, jean-clad cock against my core, setting me on fire. “You’re already wet.”

“I look at you and get wet,” I reply. I’m breathless. On fire. “If you’re not inside me in two seconds, we’re going to have an issue.”

“We don’t want to have an issue,” he replies and unzips his jeans, frees his cock, and pushes inside me immediately, stealing what breath I have left.

“God, you feel good,” I moan, clutching his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Good because there will be more later.” He grips my hips and picks up the pace, fucking me hard and furiously here in the middle of my shop.

Sex in the middle of gorgeous shoes? Am I in heaven?

Because I’m pretty sure this is what heaven looks like.

“If you’re able to laugh, I’m doing this wrong. You’re not good on the ego, love.”

“No, I was—oh, God—just thinking that this must be what heaven looks like.”

He cocks a brow.

“Amazing sex surrounded by shoes.”

His lips twitch into a satisfied smile. He rips my shirt open, not giving one shit about the buttons popping off, and sucks my already hard nipples into his mouth.

“How cute am I now?” he asks, his eyes serious and narrowed as he fucks me relentlessly against the countertop.

“You’re not cute,” I reply, holding on for dear life. He presses his thumb to my clit, tearing me apart inside out. “You’re everything.”

I cry out, clinging to him.

Everything.

Fucking baby Moses, I’ve fallen in love with him.

***

Why is there a baby chick in my bed?

Okay, so I can’t actually see it, but it’s nestled up against my cheek, all warm and fuzzy. I might not kill whoever put it here.

“Darling, I need you to wake up,” Simon says, patting my ass. I’m on my stomach, which is my usual way to sleep. I reach my arm out and come up with cold sheets.

Simon’s up already?

“Why are you awake?” I ask, not opening my eyes.