by Lara Lacombe
Reading the question in her eyes, he didn’t stop to think, leaning forward and closing the distance between them. She met him halfway, her lips soft and yielding against his own.
The contact sent an arc of sensation down his spine. Emma grabbed his shirt with both hands, her short nails digging into his flesh as she pulled them together. Their bodies met, chest to curves, her knees to his thighs. Heat raced through Matt’s system, making his skin feel tight and overly sensitive. Every brush of Emma’s lips, every graze of her fingertip or pass of her hand, registered in high definition, his brain hyperaware of her movements and responses.
The kiss quickly took on a desperate edge as Emma yanked on the hem of his shirt and his hands tangled in her hair. More, he needed more of everything—her lips, her breath, her skin. Her scent filled his nose, soapy and clean from the shower. She tasted like toothpaste and sleep, a combination that was at once both familiar and exotic. What was it about this woman that turned even the most ordinary things into something so heady and sensual? How did she have such a potent effect on him?
She touched his stomach, setting off a spark of static electricity that had them both jumping apart. “Sorry,” she whispered breathlessly.
“It’s okay.” He leaned back down to recapture her mouth, but paused before his lips met hers. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea... As much as he wanted her, it might be better to keep his distance until the traffickers were no longer a threat. It was all too easy to succumb to temptation in the face of danger. He didn’t want Emma to regret anything that happened between them once cooler heads prevailed and they faced the very real issues that might sink a relationship before it even got off the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Her brown eyes shone with a mix of arousal and concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching up to cup her cheek with his hand. “I just think we might want to slow down a little. I don’t want you to feel pressured, and I can’t make you any promises...”
“I know,” she said shortly. She kissed him quickly, then drew back. “Unless you want to stop? I’m not going to chase you if you’re not ready.”
“It’s not that,” he replied. He searched for the words to explain his thoughts, trying to ignore the increasing demands of his libido. His body was trying to wrestle away control of the situation, and as Emma continued to rub circles on his chest with her fingertip, he was rapidly losing the ability to think rationally.
“Matt.” The sound of her voice cut through his mental fog. He focused on her face, saw the glint of determination in her eyes. “I know what I’m doing. I know what this is, and what this isn’t. I’m tired of being lonely. For once, I want to put myself first.”
He nodded, relief filling his system as her words sank in. She understood what he’d so badly tried to communicate. The pressure lifted at her acknowledgment that they were on the same page, relationship-wise.
“What about Christina?”
Emma glanced to the other bed. “She’s out. I don’t think she’ll wake up anytime soon, as long as we’re quiet. And even if she does, she won’t understand what’s going on.”
“That’s true.” Her reassurances made him feel better about his desires. He gave himself permission to turn his brain off and reached for her, surrendering to sensation as she eagerly returned his embrace. “Then let’s keep each other company,” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss her once more.
Chapter 10
Is this really happening?
The question kept rattling around in Emma’s brain, even as Matt’s hands traveled over her body. It was hard to believe she was here in his arms, sharing this bed. She’d thought about this moment, imagined what he would feel like, how he would respond to her. But she’d never truly hoped her fantasies would become a reality. Matt was so quiet and reserved, she’d almost convinced herself her attraction to him was one-sided. But as his lips blazed a trail down her neck, she had to acknowledge this wasn’t all in her head.
Nerves fluttered to life in her stomach as he slowly peeled the hem of her shirt up. Gone were the flat tummy and smooth skin of her youth. Pregnancy had left her with a softness to her belly, the curves decorated with the shiny tracks of stretch marks. Her souvenirs, as she liked to think of them. Reminders of a time in her life that was both heaven and hell, as she’d simultaneously celebrated the miracle of the life growing within her and tried to piece together the heart broken by Chris’s death. She’d gotten used to the changes in her body to the point she no longer really noticed them. But what would Matt think?
His blue eyes glowed with warmth as he ran his gaze over her exposed flesh. “Beautiful,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her belly. His fingertip traced the lines across her stomach, his touch featherlight.
“You think so?” She laughed nervously, trying not to let her insecurities ruin the moment. It was hard, though—Matt was the first man to see her like this since she’d given birth. It was enough to make her feel almost virginal again.
He raised his head and met her gaze. “I do,” he said seriously. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. And not in spite of your being a mother. Because of it.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring his face. “Thank you,” she said.
“Be proud of your scars,” he said. “I know I am.”
“You have scars?”
“Oh yeah.” He sat up quickly, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his broad chest. Then he lay back down, hiking his hips off the bed so he could shimmy out of his pants.
Emma’s heart began to pound at the sight of him sprawled on the bed next to her. He was all muscle and tanned skin, anointed with the perfect dusting of golden hair. In the low light of the hotel room, he looked like a Greek god come to life.
“Check this out.” He drew her attention to a starburst on his right shoulder. “Got hung up on some barbed wire during army basic training.”
“Ouch.” She frowned, imagining how much that had hurt.
“And this one.” He tapped his left thigh, which bore a thick stripe just above his knee. “Fell out of a tree when I was a kid. Landed on a bush. One of the branches tore through me.”
“Your poor mother,” she murmured.
His mouth turned up in a quick grin, giving her a glimpse of the rambunctious boy he must have been. “She wasn’t too pleased with me that day,” he admitted.
“What about this one?” She reached out to trace an irregular patch on the side of his stomach, just to the left of his belly button.
His cheeks flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh...” He trailed off, quietly cleared his throat. “I may have burned myself while making macaroni and cheese once.”
Emma smothered a laugh. “Oh my. Cooking can be dangerous.”
“You have no idea,” he said seriously. “The water just jumped out of the pot and got me.”
“You poor thing.”
“It wasn’t one of my finer moments, I’ll admit. But I persevered.”
“Such courage.”
He lifted a brow. “I feel like you’re making light of my struggles.”
“I would never,” she said, with mock seriousness.
“It’s not easy being a single man with no desire to cook,” he said with a sniff. “The options are pretty limited. And kitchen mishaps like the attack of the boiling water don’t make me want to roll up my sleeves and try again.”
“I can imagine your struggles,” Emma said, trying to maintain a straight face. The idea of this big, tough former soldier balking in the kitchen tickled her funny bone. Apparently he was only human, after all.
He covered the old burn with his hand, his smile fading. “Your scars are prettier,” he said softly.
“You think so?”
He nodded, reaching for her again. “In this light, the marks look like veins of silver running across your belly.”
&nbs
p; She glanced down, trying to see the lines through his eyes. They did seem to shine a bit compared to the surrounding skin, but she wasn’t sure they were quite as pretty as he thought. Still, it was a nice idea, and she appreciated the poetry of the sentiment.
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said.
“Good,” he replied, pulling her close once again. “Because it’s true.”
His breath was hot on her neck, his lips insistent as he nibbled and kissed his way along her collarbone. Slowly, carefully, he pulled her shirt up, exposing more of her skin with every gentle tug. He didn’t rush, didn’t try to hurry the process. Instead, he took his time, caressing and tasting each exposed stretch until she melted bonelessly into the mattress.
Need built inside her even as her bones turned to jelly. She ran her hands over Matt’s body, enjoying the feel of his muscles flexing and relaxing as he moved.
They explored each other with hands and lips and tongues, learning secret places and hidden spots. Her nerves disappeared as she surrendered to the pleasure of touching and being touched, of kissing and being kissed. Of loving, and being loved.
He rolled onto his back. She threw one leg over his hips, then rose up on her knees to straddle him. But just as she was about to lower herself, his hands gripped her hips, keeping her suspended.
“Wait,” he said. The word sounded pained, and she looked up to find his expression anguished.
“What’s wrong?” Concern flooded her system—was he hurt? Had he changed his mind?
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh.” Relief washed over her, making her smile. “It’s okay. I have an IUD.”
“So you’re protected against pregnancy? Because my last health check came up clean.”
“As did mine,” she said.
A playful glint entered his eyes as he stared up at her. “I’m happy to continue if you are,” she said, grinning as anticipation chased away the last of her worries.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Matt grabbed her legs and flipped her onto her back. Emma had to bite her lip to stifle a shriek of surprise at her sudden change of position. Her head was still spinning as Matt covered her body with his own, and as they joined together, she felt her heart take flight.
* * *
Emma wasn’t sure how long they lay together, legs tangled and skin cooling. Her mind was pleasantly blank, but as the air conditioner hummed to life, her brain began to engage again. She had meant to talk to Matt about what she’d overheard earlier. Instead, she’d let her emotions rule her actions and jumped into bed with him.
Matt trailed his fingers along her arm. “You’re thinking.”
She turned her head to face him. “How did you know that?” She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even made a sound.
“You tensed up. Not much, but enough.” He rolled onto his side, planting his elbow in the mattress and propping his head with his hand. “Everything okay?”
Emma stared up at him, marveling at his perception. “Yes.”
He studied her face for a few seconds. “Do you regret what we did?” He sounded a little shy, but he held her gaze.
“No.” She reached out to touch his cheek, needing him to believe her. She may have acted impulsively, but she wasn’t sorry about it. Being with Matt had made her feel alive again. It was an experience she knew she’d always treasure. “I’m not unhappy about that.”
“Okay,” he said simply. “But I can tell something is on your mind. You can talk to me, if you want.”
It was the perfect opening. So why did she find it so hard to start talking?
“Well...the thing is...” Embarrassment filled her, making her cheeks go warm. She’d never had to confess eavesdropping before. It was such a childish activity she almost didn’t want to admit it.
But she owed it to Matt to be honest with him. So she took a deep breath and plunged in.
“I overheard you talking to Christina earlier. I came out of the bathroom while you were telling her about Fisher, but you didn’t hear the door open. I feel bad about listening in, but my curiosity got the better of me.”
Matt’s expression went blank, and she sensed him start to withdraw. Under normal circumstances, she would let him retreat to the safety of his emotional fortress. But she still carried the scent of him on her skin and felt the ghost of his touch. They had shared their bodies with each other; it was time for him to share some of his heart.
“Please,” she said softly. “I don’t want to cause you pain by bringing up hard memories. But I want to know about Fisher.”
Matt let out a heavy sigh and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He was quiet for so long, Emma feared he wasn’t going to say anything. But then he began to speak, his voice so low she had to strain to hear.
“When I was in the army, I was engaged. Her name was Jennifer. We had met through mutual friends, dated through most of college. I was in ROTC, and she knew I’d be on active duty following graduation. Everything was great, for a while. We got engaged shortly before my first deployment. I wanted to have a quick wedding so she’d be my beneficiary in case something happened, but she insisted on waiting until I got back. Said she wanted a huge wedding with all the bells and whistles.” He smiled ruefully. “That probably should have been my first clue, but I was too blind to see.”
Emma scooted closer to Matt but was careful not to touch him. She sensed he was lost in his memories, and she didn’t want to interfere.
“As my deployment wore on, she kept telling me she had a surprise for me when I got back. I figured she’d found a house, or maybe gotten a new job. She wouldn’t tell me what it was, just kept saying I’d be so happy.” He snorted. “I nearly had a heart attack when I stepped off the plane and saw her standing there with a baby in her arms.”
“Oh my,” Emma murmured. “That is quite a surprise.” Was that the little boy he’d mentioned earlier when talking to Christina?
Matt nodded. “She swore up and down he was mine. The math worked out, but he just didn’t feel like my baby. I can’t explain it—I just knew deep down he wasn’t my child.”
A small stone of worry formed in Emma’s stomach. “What happened?”
“We lived together for a while. I got pretty attached to Fisher, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he didn’t belong to me. After several months, I took a paternity test and it confirmed what I already knew.”
“What did Jennifer do?”
“She broke down and confessed. She’d been cheating on me for a while and I hadn’t known. When she turned up pregnant, she was scared because she didn’t know who the father was. She broke it off with the other guy and decided to recommit to me. But once the truth was out, I told her we were done.”
A cold chill swept over Emma, making her shiver. “You left them?”
“It was kind of the other way around. She took up with Fisher’s father again. Last I heard, they’re married and living in the suburbs.”
“That’s good,” she said. She knew from experience how hard it was to be a single mother.
Matt blew out a breath. “Fisher was a sweet little guy. I still miss him, but I just couldn’t stay. He never really felt like mine, you know?”
“Sure,” she replied automatically. Her thoughts whirled as she processed this new information. Matt hadn’t wanted to raise another man’s child. Why had she ever thought he’d want to be a part of Christina’s life?
Embarrassment filled her as she recalled her earlier fantasies of a future with Matt. He’d seemed like a good potential partner for her, and the way he’d played and interacted with Christina had made her think he might be willing to step in as a father for her. But after hearing his story about Fisher, she knew that would never happen.
I’m such a fool. She’d let her loneliness and desire for connection overrule her head. Of course Matt had been sweet t
o Christina—her daughter was adorable and good-natured. Most people enjoyed being around her. But just because he’d played with her a few times didn’t mean he wanted to stay involved in her life. She should have known better than to assume otherwise.
Emma rolled off the bed and began to pull her clothes free from the tangle of sheets. Her chest felt tight and her eyes burned, but she refused to show any emotion.
Matt sat up, watching her curiously. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yep. I was starting to get cold.” She didn’t look at him, didn’t trust herself not to burst into tears. It wasn’t Matt’s fault she was disappointed. He’d never volunteered to star in her fantasies of love and a family. Could she really blame him for not wanting to take on such weighty responsibilities, especially after his experience with Jennifer?
“Are you sure?” Matt asked. “Because I feel like I’ve upset you somehow.”
Emma fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Damn him for being so perceptive! The sooner she got her clothes on, the better. Being naked around him made her feel even more vulnerable.
He climbed out of bed and reached for his boxer shorts. She turned around, tugging her shirt down before stepping into her pants. Once she was dressed, she took a deep breath to center herself.
Matt’s story had upset her, yes. But she didn’t want him to know it. If he knew how she’d been building him up in her mind, the way she’d hoped they might have something together...at best he would pity her. At worst, he would leave. And she still needed him to help her keep Christina safe.
She turned to face him again, pasting a smile on her face. “You haven’t upset me,” she said. “I really was getting cold. And I wanted to get dressed in case Detective Randall calls and we need to leave quickly.”
“I hope he’ll have good news,” Matt said, zipping up his jeans. He walked over to the table and reached into one of the remaining bags he’d brought in earlier. He pulled out a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter and a small bottle of honey. “In the meantime, can I make you a sandwich? I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite.” He winked at her, and despite her churning stomach, she smiled.
