Something More

by Samanthya Wyatt

  She needed to get a grip. And not grip his ass, either.

  Chapter 15

  He’d rearranged his schedule so he could be here. Under no circumstances had Matthew ever let a female get to him where his work took second place. Yet, here he was. He could lose ten million due to his rashness. No regrets. It was worth every penny just to see the expression on Carrie’s face when she opened her front door.

  Whatever he’d expected, it certainly hadn’t been that. Thank God for his sunglasses. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. The image of a prestigious sophisticated lady had been shot to hell. Long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail with strands falling about her face, a spot of paint dotted one cheek, and a yellow smudge lay across her nose. Her full mouth hung open and her eyes wide with surprise. She looked like a rag doll that had been run over by a steamroller.

  She’d looked absolutely adorable.

  His throat had gone dry when his gaze landed on her T-shirt. Ogling the tight material stretched across a perfectly endowed bosom, it’s a wonder the material didn’t go up in flames, for his eyes seared the globes with such intensity, the heat should have created a burning laser-beam.

  Shaking the image away, he forced his concentration back to the even strokes of the brush. He’d caught her day dreaming once or twice. Nice to know she enjoyed looking at his ass. He smiled in satisfaction. After the way she’d been staring at him, quite possibly her mind traveled down the same path as his. Sensual imaginings. Erotic dreams. He remembered the weight of her breasts and how they felt in his palms with his thumbs stroking her nipples.

  His blurred vision came back into focus when he heard a scraping sound. Turning around, he found, to his immense pleasure, Carrie bent over and her tight behind poised in the air. His throat closed. Her jean shorts barely covered the necessities, if that scrap of denim could be called shorts. His gaze moved down long, sleek, bare legs. A moan formed in his throat, yet he stopped a hiss before it could leave his teeth. Hungry eyes devoured. He couldn’t help himself.

  “Carrie?”

  She jerked.

  “Could you hand me that smaller brush?”

  She whirled around, her ponytail flying about, and quickly brushed a stray curl from her face. The action drew her shirt tighter across her luscious breasts. He swallowed.

  As she held the brush up to him, her breast brushed his thigh. The demon in his pants jumped to immediate attention. He quickly took the brush, relieved that he faced away from her, for the bulge in his crotch would have been right in her face. He made the mistake of glancing back and froze. Her expression muddled between astonishment and need. The jolt from her slight touch had clearly affected her as much as him.

  For an insane moment, he wanted to say the hell with it, jump off the ladder and throw her on the floor and pound his way home. If she continued to look at him like a lost puppy begging for a bone, the damn paint could take a flipping flight.

  “How about a cold drink?” Her voice came out husky and raw.

  Very cold, he thought. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice cold beer.”

  “Beer? But, I . . . just . . .”

  Matthew studied the cloth he held as he wiped the paint from his hands. “I imagine there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  “Cold beer coming right up.”

  His quick look caught the playful smile on her face.

  “There are a few things you don’t know about me either,” she quipped.

  As he stepped off the ladder, Carrie handed him a frosted bottle of his favorite brand. She spun on her heel, gifting him with a sensuous sway of her delectable backside. He turned the bottle up and took a hard pull, then followed her through the set of French-doors to the deck outside. The bright sun cast a shadow on a white iron table with four matching chairs. A perfect spot to relax. He placed the bottle on the rail, then removed his shirt in one swift swoop, pulling it over his head. “Man, it’s hot.”

  Carrie nearly swallowed her tongue. Black curls sprinkled over a perfectly muscled chest—demanding her attention—sending her into a state of awe. Blood rushed through her brain increasing her already heightened senses. Hot. Naked planes and angles called on every female hormone in her body. The desire to touch, to run her fingers through those springy curls arrowing down to a bronze button. Teasing her, beckoning her to secrets hidden under low-slung jeans. She must be going mad, for no man’s body had ever created such longing within her.

  She closed her eyes and found to her horror, the image was sharper. More real in her mind. She imagined her hands splayed across that chest, caressing . . . A dark shadow fell over her face, alerting her of his presence. Her lids flew open. Compelling blue eyes stared back at her.

  Matthew pulled the bottle from her fingers and placed it on the patio table. Without uttering a sound, he pulled her into his arms. When his gaze drifted to her mouth, a surge of sensations engulfed her woman’s core. Then his mouth touched hers. She latched onto him like a starving woman.

  He slid his tongue across the seam of her lips and she gladly opened to him. Slowly he teased his way into her mouth. Advance, retreat, until finally the sizzling contact of his tongue with hers sent shockwaves throughout her body. The moan she heard sent her deeper into the kiss before she realized it was her own. She moved closer and tightened her hold on him, absorbing his kiss with every ounce of her being.

  Matthew’s breathing was rugged as he pulled away. Holding her head against his bare chest, his fingers caressed her nape. “That needed doing.”

  With her cheek nestled against his soft blanket of fur and her lips a hair’s breadth away from his nipple, the urge to kiss and lick threatened to take what little sanity remained. She knew his kiss would be heaven. She didn’t think it would rob her of her senses once again.

  Cool air hit her face the moment he pulled away. Matthew drained half of his beer and stood looking across the lawn. For the first time in her life, Carrie was at a loss for words. She wished she could read his mind.

  Why did he stop? What is he thinking?

  After several moments, Matthew donned his shirt as if nothing happened. He spoke of a plan to finish the kitchen. She saw his mouth move and heard the words being said, but her mind kept reliving the kiss they’d just shared.

  His bottle empty, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  Am I ever. And I’m not thinking about painting the kitchen.

  They went back inside and he once again took his place on the ladder.

  “At the rate I was going, it would have taken me a week.” Her voice came out as a breathless gasp. His body went still. Little tremors of warmth danced in her belly. “Thank you, Matthew. I’m glad you’re here.” Hearing her own words made her realize how much she meant them.

  “The pleasure is mine.” His gruff voice made her wonder at the reason behind it.

  “Matthew. Look at me.”

  When he did, his jaw was tight and his eyes had a strained look. They stared at each other for long moments.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  He knew exactly what she meant.

  “The kiss . . . on the patio.”

  “Ah, to hell with this.” He slammed the brush down on the pan and jumped the two steps off the ladder. “Come here.” He groaned and pulled her into his arms.

  He kissed her with a hunger so fierce her mind reeled from the intensity. Right now, at this moment, the only thing she wanted was to be in Matthew’s arms. She kissed him back with everything she had, drowning in the pleasure of him. Passion flared between them and the more they kissed, the higher the fire burned.

  His hands molded her breasts while his mouth moved to the pulse at her neck. His teeth nipped and his wet tongue laved and soothed and twirled making her crazy.

  “You would pick now when I’m all hot and sweaty.”

  “I like hot,” he breathed. “Besides, I’m sweaty too.”

  “Sweaty on you is sexy. But I need a shower.”


  His mouth slid down her jaw to the vein just below her ear. His lips sent wonderful vibrations on her sensitive flesh. “How about we take one together.”

  The idea sizzled ever nerve in her spine.

  “Hold on,” he growled.

  He lifted her effortlessly and she flung her legs around his waist. His breathing sounded ragged, but he wasn’t winded. His hands cupped her bottom as she locked her ankles at his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in the curve of his shoulder.

  “I’ve dreamed of this the entire time I’ve been gone,” he murmured.

  Their positions intimate, excitement ignited her pulsing core as she rubbed against him with every arousing step he took, which only made her more eager for completion. Finally he entered her bedroom. He angled his mouth over hers, and slid her down his body.

  He tugged at her clothing, she tugged at his. Without taking his mouth from her skin, he maneuvered them across the room to the shower. He released her long enough to turn on the faucet and check the water temperature. Then he held out his hand, palm up. As she placed her hand in his, he closed his fingers over hers, and led her into the bath.

  He nibbled playfully at the corner of her mouth and then he licked the spot where he nipped. He reached for the soap and lathered his hands. The anticipation alone had her as excited as a sweet tooth in a candy shop.

  Oh what sweets he would give her.

  His eyes gleamed as he rubbed his hands together, then with one finger he made a circle motion, for her to turn around. Large hands moved up and down her back, across her shoulders and then dragged down her arms. She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. The sensation of her foam-covered back against his furry curls intoxicated her. A sigh of pure contentment escaped her lips.

  This must be what heaven is like.

  Awareness radiated through every cell in her body at his gentle touch. He stroked and caressed. The press of his fingers against her rib cage made her head swim. She held her breath waiting for him to move higher.

  He did.

  If she could have melted into him, that was the moment. Her center ached with need. His sensual fingers knew just what to do.

  Her eyes flew open when he moved away. The spray of the water hit her skin. He spun her to face him.

  Before her wits fully returned, he put his hands on her hips and held her in place while he leaned down and took one sensitive nipple into his mouth. Her head fell back as sensuous shivers of pleasure flowed through her body again. He suckled one breast and then the other as beads of water pelted down on them.

  She slid her hands up his chest and her fingers played with his wet springy curls. How wonderful it felt to just let go. To savor every tingle he inflicted on her body. To relish every assault on her senses. Her lips skimmed his jaw and caught the lobe of his ear between her teeth. His hum of pleasure elated her.

  He squeezed her waist and turned her again. Imprisoning her from behind, he fondled her breasts and rubbed his erection against her buttocks. His hands shaped, molded, then slid down, down to her tummy, and lower. Pure adrenaline flooded her veins.

  He pressed against her while his fingers searched. The head of his cock burrowed and she arched her backside in raw eagerness. Holding her against him, he eased one finger between her folds. A growl rushed from his throat and he surged closer. His finger stroked in and out. He nuzzled her neck while the fingers of his other hand flicked her nipples. Her fingers dug in his arms while she arched, and stretched, and slowly went out of her mind.

  He stroked again and again. Her whimpers became cries of impatient delight. He added pressure to that special spot inflaming wave after wave of pleasure. It was too much. She clenched and cried out. Her body soared. She would have fallen if he’d not held her.

  Lost in a mindless fog, she barely heard his words.

  “Hold on to me.”

  He lifted her and carried her from the shower to the bed. He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. Her lips parted and she tilted her face, eager for him to pick up where he left off in the shower. It was his turn.

  But he wasn’t through with her.

  He pinned her hands above her head as he pressed his lips to her temple, then her cheekbone, slowly working his way down her features. With a sweep of his tongue, he licked her lips, then left a trail of kisses down her neck and on to her chest. She wrapped her leg around his hair-dusted thigh. The hot press of his arousal against her belly reminded her, made her fully aware, he’d pleasured her, while he waited. He gave to her while he sacrificed his own gratification.

  “Matthew. You need . . . let me . . . for you . . .” She wanted to pleasure him. She couldn’t get her hands free.

  “Shhhh . . .” The tip of his cock brushed against her mound. She gasped and her entire body jerked with the sharp lance of desire.

  She couldn’t manage a coherent thought, let alone speak.

  Then he eased the head of his cock inside a short distance and held.

  Oh Lord.

  After what seemed an eternity, he eased in a bit more, then ever so slowly slid out almost completely. With her hands imprisoned, his every captivating movement tormented, his patience beyond her enduring. Braced on one arm, the weight of his body held her still. Then he began the slow, mind-blowing penetration again. Every carnal nerve heightened and begged for more.

  When his strokes lengthened, he loosened his hold on her arms and increased the pace. She grasped his neck and kissed him frantically. He held her so tight she couldn’t breathe. With overwhelming awareness of where they were joined, her yearning intensified. His heartbeat matched her own.

  Harder.

  Deeper.

  She threw back her head as a violent engulfing ecstasy exploded within her, shattering her senses into a million pieces, scattering her wits to an elusive universe beyond.

  His body bucked and a hoarse moan tore from his lips. He shuddered with the force of stampeding stallions. She clutched him tighter. They spiraled together as one.

  A taut moment later, Matthew slumped on top of her. His sweat glistened chest heaved with the mad race of his heart. He buried his head in the curve of her shoulder and placed the firm warmth of his mouth on her fevered skin. A tingle of emotion centered in her chest. Something more than she expected. Intimacy. Caring. An alien sentiment that took her by surprise.

  This feeling was too good to analyze it now. She had allowed her actions to run free. The result was this glorious ambiance. Why shouldn’t she enjoy it? Embrace it, the way she now embraced Matthew.

  Carrie listened to his even breathing. Matthew had her thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts. Scary thoughts. Thoughts that involved feelings. Not only did she like him, she wanted to be with him. Soft caring emotions centered in her chest and smothered her mind. She wanted to snuggle up and cuddle. The idea that it was not sexual, baffled her. Hold him and embrace him without doing the deed?

  Interesting.

  Somehow, they’d managed to finish painting the kitchen. Once he set his mind to the task, he made every effort to get the job done. No amount of tantalizing on her part could sway him. He’d pat her on her butt and send her back to her post.

  But after . . .

  She’d spent a blissful night in his arms.

  Grasp it. Enjoy it.

  Oh, how she wanted to do just that, but she feared to trust sentimental feelings. Passion she could understand. Craving Matthew beyond all reason, terrified her.

  Unable to resist, she nestled against him. His hand lifted and smoothed the hair from her face. He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Hungry?” No matter what he said, it came out sounding like a caress.

  Starved! For affection? When had this desperate need taken hold? The need to keep him, never let go.

  For God’s sake, Carrie. What has happened to you?

  “Carrie?”

  Keeping one arm around him, she stretched, skin sliding against skin. He growled and came
over her, his gaze fastened on hers. He gave her a quick hard kiss. “Come on. We both are going to need our strength.”

  He rolled off the bed and stepped to the closet. Pulling her robe from a hanger, he returned to the bed and placed it at the foot. Next, he pulled on his jeans and with a wink he said, “I’ll start the coffee.”

  Carrie climbed from the bed. After donning her robe, she went to the adjoining bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could hear the water running in the guest bathroom. Thoughts flashed through her mind of last evening when the two of them were in the shower together. Him behind her, arms around her and soapy hands caressing her breasts, sliding over every inch of her body.

  How could she miss a man when he was in the next room? The ridiculous notion entered her head that he should be in here, with her. What woman wanted to be alone? At least, not forever. Someday, she would get married. The thought of having a family had now and again popped into her mind, but she never allowed it to grow. The hollow feeling in her gut had surfaced before, but she noticed it more with her sister and niece gone.

  Good Lord, Carrie. Stop mooning.

  Her relationships never lasted long. A long relationship took work and entailed involvement. She had neither the time nor the inclination.

  After a quick shower, she dressed and went to find Matthew. He stood at the kitchen sink fully dressed, coffee cup in hand, staring out the window. The impulse to wrap her arms around him caught her unaware. She’d always been her own person. Independent, she’d taken care of herself. She didn’t need a man for anything, other than sex.

  Yet, an idea invaded, flashed in her head like a light bulb. There was no other word for it. Hunger. The overwhelming need to touch. Did she dare do it? What made her want to slip up behind him, slide her arms around him, and burrow, and not let go? Where the heck were these urges coming from? This was so not like her.