When pink flushed from her cheeks down to her breasts at the compliment, his eyes found hers, and he grinned. “Why does that make you blush? You do have great tits. You have to know how I feel about them.”
She bit her lip and shrugged, and he just chuckled deep in his throat before going back to what he was doing, the feel of his mouth on her pulling her out of her head and centering her in her body once more. When she was with him, she existed only as sensation—the softness of his lips on her, the rough calluses on his hands, the brush of his hair on her skin as he mapped her body with his mouth, the sandpapery feel of his unshaven face against her thighs, the sting on her ass when he spanked her for fun or while he took her from behind.
She squirmed as he slid lower, one hand still squeezing and caressing her breast, the fingers tweaking her nipple, his mouth trailing down between her thighs. He sank the first two fingers of his free hand inside her, sliding them in and out a few times, making a sound of satisfaction. “Always so ready for me. I love that, babe.”
Hannah’s hands clutched at the sheets as his mouth went to work on her. It didn’t take long for him to bring her to a screaming orgasm, her thighs clamped around his head, and her hands tangled in his hair.
He pulled back with that lazy grin she loved, so smug and satisfied with his ability to give her pleasure, then rose up and kissed her thoroughly before flipping her onto her belly and pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. She bit her lips as she waited, cataloguing the way his muscles moved, his hand appearing in her peripheral vision to reach for a condom. She squeaked when he slapped her ass then groaned when he pulled her hips up and filled her in one stroke. His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled back slowly before sliding back in. “Fuck, yeah. I love watching my cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy.” The words were muttered quietly, almost like he was talking to himself and not to her, but the dirty talk made her muscles clench around him, and he groaned. “Shit, babe. I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”
Loving the feeling of power of being able to make him lose control, she cast a grin at him over her shoulder and purposefully tightened around him again. They both groaned at the feeling of him plunging into her, tapping against her G-spot while she gripped him with her inner muscles. She hadn’t experimented much with that, but it intensified the sensations so much that she did it again on the next stroke. With her face turned into the bed to muffle her cries of pleasure, she kept squeezing him with each inward stroke until he slapped her ass again, the sting making her gasp, and thrust inside her hard, catching her by surprise.
He bent over her, his chest to her back, coming down with his arms on either side of her shoulders. “I wasn’t kidding. Keep that up, and I’ll be done before you get to go again.”
She pushed back against him, a wordless moan all she could manage.
“It’s like that, is it?” He reached one hand around her, massaging the top of her mound, his fingers sliding down to circle her clit. He slowed the pace of his thrusting and pulled back until just the tip was inside her before slowly sliding in again, maintaining the light circles around her clit. When he got just far enough inside to reach her G-spot, he pulled back, keeping his thrusts shallow and slow, his fingers becoming more insistent, circling and pinching and lightly flicking, building her up quickly, finishing her off with harder thrusts and firm pressure on her clit. This time she screamed her orgasm into the mattress. He kept his hand on her mound, his pace increasing as he hammered into her, holding her in place with his finger still on her clit, keeping her orgasm going until his whole torso went rigid behind her with his release.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress, and she relished the feeling of him like this, limp and sated on top of her. She loved that she could do this to him as well as he could do it to her. That was one of the things that had always made sex with Matt so much fun, even from the first time. He was open and unfiltered with her, his reactions written all over his body, and he loved giving her pleasure as much as he enjoyed getting it from her. He was right. They fit together so perfectly, their bodies so in sync with each other. She hadn’t felt that with anyone else, and from what he’d said, he hadn’t either.
Running a hand down her back, he moved off her and stood. She knew he was cleaning himself up, and she heard him chuckle when she didn’t move. But she just lay there where he left her, ass up, legs hanging off the bed, limp and boneless from the intensity of her orgasms. That was the other thing she loved about him. He always made sure she came, and more than once. It seemed to be a personal challenge for him to make sure she got off at least twice before he did.
Her thoughts screeched to a halt when she realized she was mentally listing things she loved about Matt. Not about sex with Matt, but about him as a person. She swallowed, stiffening, and finally moving, not sure what to make of that. It was too soon. Too soon to say something. Especially since she still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced he’d ever cared as much about her as she had for him. He’d said that wasn’t true, but since he didn’t know the true depth of her feelings, how could he know that?
He gave her a quizzical look when she scooted back on the bed and pulled the covers over herself. She felt too naked, like he’d be able to read the truth of her feelings on her skin the way he read all the other reactions her body had to him. “Just getting cold.” She forced a smile onto her face.
“Let me warm you up, then.” Climbing in next to her, he brought her against him, and she couldn’t help but relax into his warmth, the chill from earlier long since gone.
He ran a hand up and down her back, a sigh of contentment coming out of him. “It’s Valentine’s Day next weekend.”
“Yeah.” Was he trying to gauge her expectations? Or did he already have something planned?
“Would you rather stay in or go out?”
She shrugged her free shoulder. “I’m easy. Whichever you want is fine. I’ve never made a big deal out of Valentine’s Day before.”
He looked down at her, surprise in his voice. “You haven’t had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before?”
“No, I have. We just decided not to make a big thing out of it. Well, he said it was a made up holiday to make money for greeting card companies.”
Matt laughed. “What a load of shit. That settles it. I’m taking you out somewhere fancy. Every woman deserves to be wined and dined on Valentine’s Day. I was leaning toward that anyway, but if you wanted something more low-key then I was going to cook you dinner here. Instead we’ll pull out all the stops.”
She couldn’t help the grin coming to her face. Another thing to add to her list, even if she could barely admit it to herself. It was nice to be cared about so much. Maybe their feelings weren’t as mismatched as she feared.
Chapter Eighteen
Matt knocked on the door and ran a hand through his hair, unaccountably nervous to be picking up Hannah for their Valentine’s Day dinner. He’d managed to get reservations at a French bistro that he thought she would like. It had a romantic atmosphere with white tablecloths, twinkle lights wound around the potted trees in the corners, and little oil lamps on the tables. And the food was fresh and delicious. He hoped she liked it. Rather than a large, ostentatious bouquet of roses, he’d opted for a single orange rose. He’d wanted something different than the usual dark red, and it had stood out at the florists. He’d been drawn to it, thinking of Hannah. “Orange roses symbolize energy and passionate romance,” the florist had said. It seemed fitting, so he got it.
When Hannah opened the door, the sight of her took his breath away, her face lit up with a smile, green eyes sparkling. “Hi.”
“Hi.” A matching smile took over his own face. His eyes traveled down her body, taking in the tight fit of her red dress, the low scoop neckline offering a delicious view of her cleavage. When he got to her face again, she smiled wider, her eyes still traveling over his body, the light blue sweater he wore visible throu
gh the open front of his leather jacket. He’d paired the sweater with gray dress pants. Megan had given him a wolf-whistle of approval before he left.
Hannah opened the door all the way. “Come on in. I just need to grab my coat.” He offered her the rose, and she took it as he came into the apartment.
He followed her inside, admiring the sway of her hips as she moved across the room to the kitchen to put the rose in a vase. Elena sat curled in the corner of the couch in leggings and a T-shirt, her eyes scanning over him. She threw him a wink and a cheeky grin, munching on some popcorn. “I hear you’re pulling out all the stops and showing our girl a good time for Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah. She said she’s never had that before, so I figured it was time.”
“Definitely.” Her face grew serious, and she dropped her voice so Hannah wouldn’t hear her over the water running in the sink. “Hurt her again, and I will fuck you up, dude.”
Matt’s eyes widened at the threat. “I won’t.” She’d caught him off guard, even though he shouldn’t be surprised she threaten him again. She had before, after all.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she stared at him for several drawn-out seconds before nodding once. “Okay. Make sure you don’t.”
He looked up to see Hannah throwing him a quizzical look as she settled her gray pea coat around her shoulders, buttoned it closed, and wrapped an ivory scarf around her neck. He shrugged and gave her a smile. The rose he’d given her sat in a slim vase in the center of the dining table next to her. Walking up to him, she hooked her arm through his and tugged him toward the door.
“You two kids have fun. Don’t stay out too late.”
Hannah stuck out her tongue at Elena. “Sure thing, Mom. Same to you.”
Matt chuckled and held the door for Hannah, taking her hand to walk down the stairs and out to his truck.
“What was that about in there with Elena?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged again. “She wanted to warn me of the consequences of hurting you again.”
She huffed, half laugh, half exasperation. “Sorry about that. I’ll talk to her and tell her to lay off.”
“It’s not a big deal. She gave me the same sort of warning the summer we met. She’s protective of you. It’s not a bad thing.” He held her door open for her to climb into the truck, giving her a hand up to steady her in her heels. When he got in on his side, she’d let it go.
“So where are we going? You’ve been holding out on me.” Her voice held equal parts excitement and frustration, her narrowed eyes just visible under the fluorescent lights of the parking lot.
He chuckled. “You really want to know? You don’t want to be surprised?”
Sucking in a breath, she held it in while she considered her answer, then let it out in a whoosh, shaking her head. “No. Just tell me. It’s been killing me all week that you’ve been so secretive about it.”
“Fine.” He laughed again at her eagerness. “We’re going to Chateau de Provence. Have you been there before?”
She shook her head. “No. It sounds fancy.”
“It’s great, you’ll love it. The food is delicious, and they change the menu with the seasons so it’s always fresh. The owners are French.”
“Sounds like you’ve been there a lot.”
He glanced over at her while he drove. She had her lower lip between her teeth like she was nervous. “Just once. But their website is full of information. I looked at it while I was on hold to make the reservation. We got lucky. They only had a few spots left. And they’re doing a Valentine’s Day prix fixe menu that sounds really good.” When he glanced at her again, she was biting at her thumbnail. “Hey. What’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited.”
Her hand fell to her lap as she turned to face him. “No, no, I am. It sounds lovely. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She shrugged, an unreadable look on her face. “I just feel kind of bad, you know? You got me a gorgeous rose and now you’re taking me out to dinner at an expensive restaurant. I didn’t get anything for you, and you’re spending all this money on me.” Her hands fluttered in her lap, worrying the edge of her coat.
He reached over and covered her hand, finding her palm with his, and lacing their fingers together. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I want to do this. I like getting to take you out to a fancy restaurant and buy you gifts.” Based on this, he was a little worried how she’d react when he gave her the necklace that sat nestled in a little velvet pouch in his pocket. He’d picked out a silver pendant, a flower mandala design on a slim silver chain, from one of Megan’s friends in the art department who made jewelry. Megan had a few pieces her friend had made—the ring she wore on her thumb, a couple of bracelets, and a necklace—and she’d hooked him up when Matt had told her he wanted to get jewelry for Hannah. He hoped she’d like it.
He also hoped she’d react well when he told her he loved her. That he wanted her to wear the necklace as a way to have him with her when they were apart—a reminder of his love. It sounded sappy, but he couldn’t help it. This girl had him heart, body, and soul. He had no intention of letting her go, and this seemed like the perfect time to tell her. He just hoped she felt the same way.
She smiled at him, her worry seeming to ease a bit, and they rode the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence. They were led right to their table and ordered drinks—a beer for him and a Lemon Drop for her—while looking over the menu options.
“I’m going to do their prix fixe menu with the steak and raspberry ganache torte for dessert. What are you thinking of getting?”
Hannah’s eyes were wide. The dim lighting made her pearly skin seem to glow, the warmth from the oil lamp on their table casting a golden hue on her complexion, making her eyes a deep forest green. “Everything’s so expensive.” Her eyes darted around, and she leaned closer to make sure he could hear her whisper. “Are you sure? I could just get the chicken.” She made a face when she looked down, and he could tell that she’d noticed that the chicken dish she referred to cost almost twenty dollars.
He leaned in close and whispered as well, unable to suppress the laughter fighting to get out. “Get whatever you want, Hannah. I have a full time job and cheap rent. I can afford to splurge on you tonight.”
She pulled back, giving him a doubtful look, but when the waitress came she got the prix fixe menu as well, selecting the fish and the creme brûlée. He smiled to himself that she believed him.
“So how’s the internship going?”
Looking at him over the rim of her martini glass, her eyebrows raised, then scrunched together, finally settling low over her narrowed eyes as she lowered her glass. “Are you asking as my HR manager or my boyfriend?”
He let out a laugh. “Your boyfriend. Are you liking it? Learning a lot? You tell me all about school, but you don’t talk to me about work. You’ve said before that this was your dream internship. So is it living up to your expectations?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I love it. Sandra’s awesome. I’ve learned so much from her already, and I love the philosophy behind the company.” Launching into more detail, she told him all about the different social media campaigns she was working on and how much fun she was having. He wished he could manage half the enthusiasm for work that she had.
The waitress bringing their food interrupted her, and after they both cut into their entrees and started eating, she brought the conversation around to him. “What about you? Have you thought more about doing what you love?”
He shrugged, not wanting to taint their evening by going there. “Not really.” And cut another bite of his steak. It was cooked perfectly, juicy, red in the middle surrounded by pink, the sauce with it complementing the flavor.
He raised his eyes to Hannah’s when she made an irritated sound in her throat. “What?”
Imitating his shrug, she pitched her voice low and dumb sounding. “Not really.” Is that really how she thought he sounded? “Come on
. You haven’t thought about it at all? I know you’re not happy at work. Don’t you want to do something you like more?” She shook her head at him and took a drink of her water.
He shrugged again. “It’s work. They pay me. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world. It’s a good job, they pay well, it has good benefits, and they care about their employees. There’s a lot to be said for that.”
She stared at him for a minute, not moving, then shook her head a little. “It just makes me sad that you’ve given up already.”
“Not everyone gets to do what they love for a living.”
She spluttered, looking around the room, trying to find something to say to that. “Okay, fine. I guess somebody has to be a janitor or a garbageman or something. But you just graduated. You haven’t even tried doing something you’d really like. Why not? What better time to do what you want, what you love, than now?”
He didn’t say anything, keeping his attention on his food. It just seemed silly and farfetched. He learned a long time ago that dreams were for night time. Days were for working and earning money. At least he wasn’t working on a fishing boat or in the Coast Guard like his dad had been growing up. Those were about the only options in Westport, and neither paid well enough for the amount of work and commitment they required. But how could he explain that to Hannah? He hadn’t even talked about that with Chris or Lance. For all they knew, he loved his job. But surfing for a living? Not possible, at least not for him. If he couldn’t go pro, how could he get paid to surf? No, he just needed a good enough job to save some money and get some experience, then he could move near the ocean and find a job there. Somewhere with great beaches and perfect waves.
Hannah’s voice interrupted his thoughts again. “I’m just saying, Matt. You’re too young to give up on yourself already. Just promise me you’ll think about it. Figure out how to enjoy yourself more.”
He let a wicked grin come to his lips. “I enjoy myself plenty with you.”
Always You Page 15
