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your hip... the back of your knee... the arch of your foot... the inside of your thigh... Ill find them all, I promise." Id told myself I wasnt going to touch him, but I clutched at his arms as the room tilted. Sim pulled me into his embrace and held me against the solid heat of his chest as he whispered in my ear. "I bet you moan, a lot. And Im quite sure that when I make you come, and I will...," he paused, and although I couldnt see his face I could practically hear him grinning cockily. "When you come for me Imogen, I promise youll scream." There was expectant silence for a moment and I struggled to respond, to speak past the dryness of my mouth and the pounding of my heart. And then the phone rang shrilly on the countertop beside us, making me jump and Sim laugh; but it was nice standing there in his embrace, it was warm and exciting and I could feel his erection pressed against my belly. I didnt want to move. The answering machine picked up after four rings and my bright and cheerful voice filled the room. "Hey, youve reached Imogen but Im not home. Leave a message and I promise Ill call back!" My voice sounded overly happy and I cringed as Sim laughed. Beep. "Imogen, its Simeon Forster... Senior..." his voice was deep and smooth and filled the room loudly as he chuckled warmly; the Sim in the room with me stiffened at the flirtatious noise. "Look, Ive been giving you and your writing a great deal of thought lately. About that dinner date..." But I didnt hear the rest of the message because Sim let go of me, pushed me away, and strode out of the room as his fathers voice echoed meaninglessly around me.
"Fuck," I muttered lowly. The sound of Simeon Forster Sr. hanging up the phone and Simeon Forster Jr. slamming my front door coincided and left me achingly hollow. I knew I should run after Sim, should chase him down and explain that there was no dinner date and was never going to be one, but my legs wouldnt move, locked in place no doubt by my pride. Outside there was the sound of a car starting and the violent squeal of tires as Sim tore out of my driveway. I leaned heavily against the kitchen countertop and tried to take deep, calming breaths. I could still hear the echo of Sims low-pitched voice in my ear telling me all the sensual things he wanted to do to me. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I growled with frustration. I pressed the rewind button on my answering machine and once again Simeon Forster, Sr.s voice flooded my kitchen. Beep. "Imogen, its Simeon Forster… Senior… Look, Ive been giving you and your writing a great deal of thought lately. About that dinner date, I really wish youd call me so we can get together and discuss business. Strictly business, of course. I


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had a meeting with Linda Swartz and we think you and my son are the perfect combination. If you and Sim can manage to get this going I know itll be a huge success. Youre perfect for this, Imogen. Please dont say no to him." There was a long pause, rife with expectancy. "And please, consider the dinner date. Id love to see you again." I hit erase. My message count on the answering machine went back to its usual position of 0. Dejected, I set about to pouring myself another rye and ginger. ------- The next morning I dragged my tired, grumpy ass out of the house by sheer force of will. I hadnt slept well, hadnt gotten any writing done. Id just lain awake and thought about Sim and all the things I should have said and done and didnt. So I got dressed, packed up my laptop, and headed down the street for a cup of tea, hoping the fresh air would help with my headache. I hadnt been sitting on the patio at the café long when a tall shadow loomed over me, blocking out the sunshine. "Good Lord," I muttered rudely as Simeon Forster Sr., slid into the seat across from me. "You people never quit." He chuckled warmly. "Were a stubborn bunch, Miss Wallis." I glanced up at Forster Sr.s handsome face. His grin was such a twin to Sims own that for a moment it took my breath away. "Bunch? You mean there are more of you?" I asked drolly. "I have four sons, Miss Wallis," Forster Sr. offered with a laugh. I shook my head, unable to resist the urge to laugh too. "That doesnt bode well for me now does it Mr. Forster?" "Probably not, Miss Wallis, Im afraid were all a great deal alike. And please, just call me Forster." I rolled the epithet around in my head, preferring it to the longer titles. Secretly, I was quite glad he didnt ask me to call him Simeon. I wasnt sure I could. "And Im just Imogen." Forster held my gaze for a moment, making no effort to hide the flirtatious little spark reflected there. I glanced surreptitiously at his hands as they lay clasped casually on the table. No wedding band and a handsome, confident smile; there was little doubt in my mind that this man was trouble. "Is there something you wanted, Forster?" I asked bluntly, not really feeling up to playing games. The tea Id consumed had revived me a little, but sparring with the likes of Simeon Forster Sr. was out of my league and all the Earl Grey in the world wouldnt change that. Forster chuckled lowly. "Since you didnt return my call I thought Id see if I could find you here. What did you say to my son yesterday? He didnt seem pleased when he returned to the office." "It wasnt what I said," I admitted. "He was at my place when you called and heard most of your message." "Most of it?" Forster shook his