My dear readers; yes... this has taken a long time to write. I'm sorry for making you wait. If it's any consolation, both Imogen and I have been just as frustrated as you. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all of your continuing feedback and comments. Cheers - fk
For C.
I held Sim's shirt closed with one hand and automatically shook Jude's with the other. I was in such a state of shock at being interrupted that I didn't think to refuse the gesture. Sim's rude suggestion to his youngest brother of where to go and how to get there didn't so much as phase the young man. Instead he grinned at the two of us with unrestrained glee.
"Seriously, Jude. Fuck off," Sim muttered, rising from the couch in one fluid, graceful movement. I ducked my head and started doing up the buttons of the borrowed dress shirt, anything to keep me distracted from the breathtaking sight of all six-plus feet of bare-chested and angry Simeon Forster Jr.
"Sorry, man," Jude laughed as he backed out of the livingroom. I could feel his eyes on me still, but I didn't look up. "Didn't think you'd have a girl here. Shit, you shoulda put a sock on the doorknob or called me to warn me or somethin'. You could have at least brought her upstairs to your room - that's what I do." The young man's tone was light and I bit back the urge to laugh. I could tell by Jude's teasing that bringing girls home wasn't something Sim did often. The thought pleased me immensely.
Sim followed Jude from the room and I could hear the two of them arguing in the kitchen. I sighed and leaned back on the couch. Even from two rooms away I could tell Sim wasn't truly angry at his youngest brother, just pissed at being interrupted. I felt a little hollow myself now that I'd started to come down off the sensual high Sim had wrapped me up in. It was beginning to feel like we'd never get to the end of our lessons.
The back door slammed and moments later I could hear the cough and sputter of a lawnmower starting in the yard. I grinned as Sim came back into the room, the expression on his face was both smug and bashful. He stood at the threshold and leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his wonderfully broad bare chest.
"You're making him cut the lawn?" I asked with a laugh.
"It's only fair," Sim said with a wry twist of his mouth. "I pay the bills."
I shook my head, unable to stem the giggles which brewed up from my lungs. I leaned my head back against the couch and just laughed, letting all my frustration and exhaustion out until my sides ached. Sim watched me silently from across the room, a crooked grin on his face. From the backyard the lawnmower buzzed on.
"Stand up," Sim said in a gruff tone when I'd finally quieted. There was a glint in his eyes which made my insides melt. I did as I was told.
"Take off your dress," Sim ordered. I reached under Sim's dress shirt and undid a few more buttons of my sundress, enough so that I could slip it off my hips. It pooled at my feet. I let his borrowed shirt fall back down. It enveloped me totally, reaching to my knees and the sleeves were so long I couldn't see anything but the tips of my fingers.
From the doorway Sim watched me hungrily and I stood frozen under the heat of his gaze, waiting on my next lesson.
"My bedroom is the third door down on the left," Sim said in his low, deep voice. "You go up and I'll be there in a minute."
I could feel my knees wobble, but didn't want to argue. I thought Jude's return home would have put the end to our lessons for the day, but the determined look on Sim's face said otherwise and I was more than willing to co-operate.
I stepped out of the fabric puddle of my abandoned sundress and made my way past Sim to the hallway, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. I shot a glance over my shoulder and was so surprised by the undisguised look of lust on Sim's face that I practically ran up the stairs.
The third door on the left opened to reveal a large bedroom crowded with books. The huge bed was tidily made and I sat on the edge of it to relieve my quaking insides. I knew I'd never been more turned on in my life than I was at that moment.
Everything was happening so fast and yet at the same time, it didn't seem to be happening quickly enough. I couldn't remember the last time I'd let myself go so completely. I hadn't dropped my defences in years and it felt liberating: terrifying and liberating. And it wasn't just the promise of sex either, it was all the other things that went along with it -- desire, excitement, intimacy. Hell, it had just been so long since I'd let anyone
touch
me that that fact alone was enough to shake me to the core.
It hurt a little too to realize how lonely I'd been and how hard I'd been on myself by not admitting it.
Minutes later I heard the slow, measured tread of footsteps up the stairs which I could have sworn were Sim's, but his bedroom door didn't open. Instead I heard doors opening up and down the hall and drawers slamming in other rooms. Curious, I stood up and poked my head out into the hall just as Sim emerged from another bedroom, his hair slightly rumpled, his face triumphant. In his hand were a few distinct, foil-wrapped packages that even with all my inexperience I could recognize.
He looked up to see me peeking at him from his bedroom. We both blushed.
"Thank God for brothers," Sim joked, sweeping past me into his room and trying to look casual. "They're a veritable pharmacy at times." His chagrin was charming. I giggled past my own embarrassment.
We stared at each other for a moment before both looking down at the prophylactics Sim clutched in his hand. "Imogen... I... that is... I mean that we...," Sim stumbled over his words and had the grace to colour violently.
I smiled and came to stand beside him. I held out my hand. Sim arched his eyebrow questioningly. "Well... let's see what we've got," I teased in a soft tone. Sim grinned and dropped the assortment into my hand.
I chose the topmost packet and read the label. "Strawberry flavoured?" I asked, feeling confused. "Why the hell would it need to be flavoured? Unless you were going to... oh." I stopped mid-sentence and mid-thought. Sim chuckled knowingly.
"Oh." I sat on the bed with an outward gust of breath and let the condoms fall to the mattress beside me. "Oh."
Sim knelt at my feet. His smile was a patient one. "Don't worry about that, or those," he gestured towards the foil-wrapped pile beside me. "That's like lesson sixteen and lesson thirty. We've got a long way to go until we get there. I just thought it might be best to be prepared, you know?"
I nodded. "It's just that, well..." I hesitated awkwardly. Sim ran his hands up my legs to cradle my hips and smiled encouragingly at me. "It's just that... what if I'm no good at it?" The last half of the sentence came out in a tortured whisper that revealed more about my fears than I would have liked.
Sim's laugh was gentle. "Imogen... Sweetness... there is no possible way you can be bad at it. Trust me. You've got nothing to worry about."
"How do you know?"
"Truthfully?" Sim asked, his expression was bemused. I nodded. "Because you kiss like no body's business and you respond to my touch the way no other woman ever has. That's how I know." He reached up to brush my hair out of my eyes before cupping my cheek gently. "Imogen. You'll be brilliant, I promise. I'll help you."
I must have looked worried, because Sim chuckled warmly and kissed me. His smile was kind. "As much as it kills me to say this," Sim sighed. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day." He collected the discarded foil packages and unceremoniously dumped them into the drawer of his bedside table before he crawled on the bed and propped himself comfortably against the headboard. He motioned for me to join him, which I gladly did, curling up with my head on his bare chest as he wrapped his arm around me.
We lay like that for a time and I could hear the gradual slowing of his heartbeat and I felt my own slow to match it. Outside the lawnmower buzzed on, the sound growing dimmer as Jude circled to the tackle the front lawn.
"Can I ask you a question," Sim inquired softly after the minutes ticked away lazily on his alarm clock.
