Taking It Off

by Claire Kent

  “There’s no one around. I checked before I got out of my car. I think all the attention has passed now anyway. That senator who came out of the closet stole all our thunder.”

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Haven’t you been watching the news? That guy from New Hampshire. It’s all they’re talking about now. Our little story is old news already.”

  She let out a sigh, feeling a wave of intense relief. “I haven’t been watching the news at all. I haven’t been doing anything.”

  “I know. I’ve been waiting here for ages for you to finally come outside.”

  She blinked, wondering if that was really true. “Well,” she said at last. “You might as well come in, then. We can hardly talk out here.”

  He nodded, his face relaxing slightly, and together they carried her groceries into the kitchen.

  Matt stuck the dry goods in her pantry while she put the cold stuff in the freezer and refrigerator.

  When they were done, she stood awkwardly, leaning against her granite countertop. It was so strange for Matt to be in her kitchen. He seemed to fill the room, even though he was quiet, almost understated.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asked at last.

  “Just water, if you don’t mind.”

  She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles, passing one to him and unscrewing the top of the other for herself. They stood together in the kitchen, taking swallows of the water, staring at each other.

  “What was it you wanted?” she asked at last, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He cleared his throat and set his bottle down on the counter. “I wanted to see how you were doing. I was…I was worried about you.”

  Her heart did a silly little jump. “What were you worried about?”

  “What the hell do you think? This whole crazy thing exploded, and I could only imagine how it had affected you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I called twenty-seven times and you didn’t answer.”

  Her eyes widened at the number. “I had my phone off.”

  “I figured.”

  “How did you get my number at all?”

  “Once I knew who you were, it wasn’t hard.”

  Her number was unlisted, but she figured there were ways to get it anyway. It wasn’t worth worrying about.

  She shifted her weight from leg to leg, wondering what to do, wondering what he wanted.

  “So?” Matt prompted after several seconds.

  “So what?”

  “So are you okay?” He sounded almost impatient.

  “Oh. I guess so.” She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back against the counter. “This whole thing has…really sucked.”

  “Has the press been hounding you?”

  “They did at first. But I turned off my phone and didn’t go out, so maybe they’ve backed off now.”

  “What about your folks?”

  She shook her head, feeling the heavy weight of mortification and grief. “My mom does nothing but lecture me for my foolish selfishness. My dad won’t even talk to me.”

  “Is he going to run for governor?”

  “No. There’s no way for him to do it now.”

  “He could just answer questions about you honestly and tell people it was none of their business.”

  “Do you think that would work?”

  “Probably not. But maybe.”

  “He’d never do it. He’d be too embarrassed. You can’t tell people to shrug something off if you can’t shrug it off yourself.”

  Matt processed this piece of information. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to do about it. I’ve really…disappointed them.”

  “I’m sure they’ll get over it, though. I mean, if they love you, it’s for who you are and not for what you do.”

  She thought about that, the words hitting her strangely. “Maybe,” she said, the one word cracking in her throat.

  “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” He took a step closer to her, finally taking on some of the intensity of focus she was used to seeing in him. “Maybe that’s what love is or maybe they love you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe both. I’ve always felt like…” She trailed off, since the words were so hard to say. “I’ve always felt like I have to be good enough to live up to them—and that’s why they love me.”

  “Do you think that’s from them or from you?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  They were both silent for a minute. Matt was looking at her, and she was looking at the floor. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but not threatened the way she had in the last two days.

  Like it wasn’t dangerous to be this naked with Matt.

  Like she could trust him.

  “I’ve lost my job,” she said with no segue when her thoughts about Matt were becoming too frightening.

  “What?” His eyes widened in obvious shock.

  “I’m officially on leave, but they’re going to fire me, I know it. I’ll have to resign.”

  “That’s ridiculous. What you do in your private life has nothing to do with how you do your job.” He sounded absolutely outraged, which was strangely comforting.

  “I’ve damaged the reputation of the school. All the parents are in an uproar about me working there. There’s no way I can stay.” She sighed. “I don’t even want to stay.”

  “I’m sure you can find another job.”

  “Maybe. But I love art therapy and I love working with little kids. And if everyone only associates me with some sleazy story, then…”

  “Not everyone is like that. That stuck-up school is not the rest of the world. Most people aren’t going to care about something so minor.”

  “Maybe,” she said again, hoping he was right but not feeling a lot of optimism about it. “It just feels like my whole life has fallen apart.”

  He let out a breath and stepped even closer, until he could reach her. Then he pulled her gently into his arms, and she couldn’t possibly resist.

  She clung to him, taking his strength and comfort because she needed it so much.

  “I know it feels that way,” he murmured. “But it’s not your real life that has fallen apart. It’s just that pretty picture you tried to make your life into. And that was always going to fall apart eventually. It was never strong enough to last.”

  The hoarse words seemed to sink into her, under her skin, all the way into her heart. They felt right. They felt true. Like he’d managed to strip away a hard shell that had been surrounding her for years.

  “Your life isn’t just your parents and your special-snowflake job. There’s more to you than that.” His arms tightened, like he was taking comfort as well as giving it.

  She didn’t understand why he would. It was so strange to be with him like this in the quiet. So much of their relationship had happened with the background roar of the club. This felt new. Intimate. Real.

  But she’d felt that way the other night—she’d felt like there was a genuine bond growing between them, one that could blossom into something beautiful—and he’d ripped it away from her the following morning with a few blunt, cool words.

  She pulled out of his embrace abruptly, suddenly terrified of facing a repeat of Sunday morning.

  He looked confused by her sudden move and started to pull her back into his arms, but she backed away so he couldn’t reach her.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, his face twisting with both confusion and concern.

  “How’s your mom?”

  He blinked, and she saw recognition pass over his face, as if he too remembered what had happened between them, why she might be hesitant to open up now. “She’s okay,” he said softly.

  “Did you end up paying her…her debts?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is she still in the hospital?”

  “She’s in rehab now.” He closed his eyes briefly. “She’s been there before.”

  “Oh.” Despite everything else,
she felt a wave of intense sympathy. “Well, maybe this time it will work.”

  “We’ll see.” It was clear from his face that he wasn’t holding out any hope at all. He cleared his throat again. “There’s not any…any problems about the other night—when we didn’t use a condom, I mean. Is there?”

  She understood what he was asking. “No. I think we’re okay about that.”

  Completely unexpectedly, she imagined having a baby with Matt, and it didn’t seem so impossible—so out of the bounds of reality—as she would have thought a few weeks ago.

  He nodded, staring at the floor. Then he began, “Look, I’m really sorry about…”

  When he trailed off, she prompted, “Sorry about what?” Her heart was beating wildly again, but for a different reason now.

  “About what happened on Sunday morning.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “I shouldn’t have treated you that way. You were so great on Saturday night—helping with my mom and then staying with me afterward. I should never have been so…cold.”

  “If you wanted me gone, then you had every right to make that clear to me.” Her tone was a little diffident, since she wasn’t yet sure where he was going with this, and she couldn’t let herself hope until she knew.

  “Still. I should have done better.”

  She stared at him, waiting to see if he would say anything else, if he would really let her in for once. But he didn’t. He just stood stiffly, looking awkward and reluctant and uncomfortable, like he didn’t really want to be there.

  And she was suddenly angry. It surged up without warning, everything she’d felt for the last four weeks with him instantly taking shape in hot resentment. “I think you should have done better too, but there’s no sense in apologizing unless you really mean it.”

  He blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you’re obviously feeling things for me, but it scares you or something, so you keep pushing me away. You’ve done it from the very first time I met you.”

  “I did not push you away the first time we met.” He was obviously taken aback by her shift in mood, and he sounded rather defensive.

  “Yes, you did. You put on this mask of sexy charisma that’s supposed to hold everyone at bay. You show them your body, you use your body, since you don’t think of it as really part of yourself, but you never let anyone into your heart.” When he started to respond, she talked over him. “Don’t try to tell me you don’t do that, because I know very well that you do. We shared something real on Saturday night. You can’t tell me we didn’t. I know I wasn’t imagining it. But it scared you, and you pushed me away so I wouldn’t get to touch the real parts of you that you try to hide beneath the surface. So you can apologize all you want, but don’t even bother unless it’s for the right thing.”

  Something transformed in him too, exactly as it had in her a few minutes earlier. He stepped forward until he’d pinned her against the kitchen table. “All right,” he murmured roughly, his eyes holding hers intensely, possessively. “If you’re ready to go there, then let’s go there. And let’s talk about how you’ve done exactly the same thing to me. You’ve used me to try out something new, to take a little walk on the wild side. You’ve used my body as a tool as much as I’ve ever used it myself—to get something you want.”

  She gasped, since the words sounded so wrong. He was so much more to her than a body. “No, I didn’t—”

  “You did. You used me for what you wanted, while you kept me out of all the parts of your life where you didn’t think I belonged, that you thought I was too dirty for.”

  “I did not—”

  “Elizabeth,” he interrupted, moving to take her face in his hands. “You didn’t even tell me your last name. Don’t you dare try to argue that you weren’t trying to keep me out. You can blame me all you want, but you better admit that you did exactly the same thing.”

  He was right. Once again, he was exactly right about her.

  “Maybe at first,” she began, feeling hot and overwhelmed and suddenly wanting him so much she could feel her body react. He was so close that his body was brushing against hers. “Maybe at first I did that. I’m sorry about it. But I changed. I changed.”

  He leaned closer, his expression transforming again to something as deep and hungry as she was feeling herself. “So isn’t it possible that I changed as well?”

  Her mouth fell open. “Did you?”

  He didn’t answer except for a brief guttural sound. Then he was kissing her, still holding her head in his hands.

  It was the strangest sensation, stronger than anything she’d felt for him before, and it took over her body.

  Grabbing fistfuls of his T-shirt, she tried to pull him closer to her. His body was just as hard and warm and solid as she remembered—and her own body reacted to the deep familiarity. She broke the kiss long enough to gasp, “Matt.”

  His only response was to claim her lips again.

  Making a surprised grunt as his lips pressed down on hers, Elizabeth darted out her tongue and fluttered it against his. His arms had gone around her now, and he pushed her back until her butt connected with the table behind her. Losing the momentum of the kiss, Elizabeth let her head fall back, dislodging her lips from his.

  She sucked in a deep breath, trying to process the intensity of her feelings, how much she wanted this, wanted Matt.

  Even in her own kitchen.

  His lips had lowered to her neck, and he nibbled a line down to her collarbone. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice rough with desire and emotion. Maybe he was processing the feeling as much as she was.

  His hands were moving eagerly, stroking her hips and reaching up to remove the elastic that secured her hair.

  “Oh yes,” she replied in a harsh whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

  And that seemed to be enough. He was kissing her again.

  As his lips moved urgently against hers, she opened wider for him. He slid his tongue into her mouth, and her own tongue was there to meet it. She could hear his breathing accelerate to match hers, and her face flushed deeply as their tongues and lips danced and dueled.

  He fisted his fingers in her hair and started to bunch up her T-shirt with his other hand, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it off over her head.

  Taking advantage of the expanse of neck she’d exposed to him when her head dropped backward, Matt lowered his face again and teased at her pulse point with his tongue.

  Elizabeth bit her lower lip as his teeth grazed over her heartbeat.

  Matt was now cupping her breasts over her bra. His thumbs found her nipples and he twirled them until she gasped and arched in pleasure.

  Then she reached down to grab at the edge of the table when he pulled one of her breasts out of her bra and bent over to take it in his mouth.

  “Oh God, Matt!” Arousal grew sharp and aching between her legs as he suckled her nipple.

  When she couldn’t take it anymore, she released the table and clutched at his shoulders, drawing him back up. She clawed at his shirt until she could get her hands underneath. It seemed like too much trouble to pull it all the way off, but she slid her hands under it to caress his back. His skin was smooth and warm, and she reached around his body until she was stroking the rippled ridge of his backbone.

  He made a breathless, wordless sound and found the button of her jeans, undoing it and then pushing the denim with her panties down over her hips and legs. She helped him kick it free and then he gathered her up so she was resting on the edge of the table.

  She pulled Matt between her legs by tugging on his shirt. He moved into position willingly, stroking the flesh of her thighs.

  Skimming her hand down to the front of his jeans, she found the hard bulge there. He grunted and closed his eyes again as she pressed her hand into it.

  “Do you…” she began as he let out a low grown.

  He nodded reached into his back pocket to pull out a condom.


  Relieved—and wondering if he’d been planning all along to have sex with her tonight—she adjusted herself on the table until she was more secure.

  Then, as he tore open the condom packet, she undid his jeans and pushed the fabric down enough to free his erection.

  Staring down at it, she felt an entirely new sense of possession, ownership, as she held Matt’s cock in her hand in the middle of the kitchen.

  He leaned forward to kiss her again, and it was even hotter and hungrier than before.

  As they kissed, Matt rolled on the condom and checked to see if she was wet enough.

  She made a strange, soft whimper as he pushed his hard flesh all the way into her.

  “Fuck,” Matt breathed when he was fully sheathed inside her. She couldn’t see his face, but his body was tense, and his breath was warm on her ear.

  Trying to adjust to the tight pressure of having him in her body again, Elizabeth breathed slowly and relaxed her muscles, easing her legs around him loosely. She twined one arm around his neck and used the other to balance herself on the table.

  Instead of immediately thrusting, Matt rocked his pelvis into hers, causing his cock to move very slightly inside her. She inhaled sharply at the little tingling sensations spiraling out from where their flesh was connected. She tried to mirror his motion with her hips as much as she could without falling off the table.

  Soon the slight friction became exquisitely frustrating, and Elizabeth began panting from both the stimulation and the need for more. She moved her hand from his neck to his ass, and she squeezed the firm muscles there demandingly.

  Recognizing her silent instructions, Matt began to thrust for real. Pulled his pelvis back and drove it forward, his cock sliding easily in her wet channel. He repeated the move—again, and then again—and when she caught a glimpse of his face, she saw that his eyes were tightly closed.

  Elizabeth swallowed a moan of pleasure at the more intense friction. She arched her neck back and let her lips fall open as her breathing quickened and her legs tightened around him with each of his thrusts.

  Matt was now panting as much as she was. One of his arms was around her back, gripping her tightly, while the other was hooked under her thigh. Through her half-closed eyes she could finally see his expression clearly, and it was strained and intense and unreadable.