Legal Affairs 5 - Reparation

Home > Romance > Legal Affairs 5 - Reparation > Page 2
Legal Affairs 5 - Reparation Page 2

by Sawyer Bennett


  Oh God, the man can cause my body to shudder violently with just a few words, and he looks triumphant as he feels the tremors rumble through me.

  He smiles at me like he just won an Olympic gold medal. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  I open my mouth to tell him yes when his office door flies open. We both hear it at the same time and jump apart like we’ve been zapped with an electrical current.

  Spinning around, Bill Crown stands there, looking between Matt and me with a look of shock on his face. He closes the door and steps back against it, giving us a grave look. My heart is racing a million miles an hour because I got my proverbial hand caught in the Connover Cookie Jar.

  Sneaking a glance at Matt, he has a light smile on his face as he faces off against Bill.

  Turning back to Bill, I steel myself, getting ready to absorb the tongue lashing I know will be coming.

  Instead, the serious look vanishes and a wide grin spreads across his face. “I knew it,” he says triumphantly. “I knew there was something going on between you two.”

  Matt starts laughing and slips an arm around my waist. “I was going to tell you, but truth be told, it really wasn’t until this week that I was sure it was going to work.”

  I look wildly between the two men, not really understanding half of what’s going on. Matt is my boss… he should not be within five feet of me in an intimate nature. Bill, as his business partner, should be pissed about this.

  Yet, he looks almost giddy.

  “I don’t get it,” I say dumbly, pulling slightly away from Matt because I still feel like he’s forbidden fruit. “Aren’t you mad?”

  Bill chuckles. I note that when he smiles, he looks about ten years younger. I always thought Bill looked haggard and worn out, and I’m wondering if it’s because he’s generally unhappy. But now… he’s looking at Matt like he wants to shake his hand and slap his back.

  “I’m thrilled for Matt, actually,” Bill says. “He’s been single far too long, and he’s a great guy. He deserves happiness. But… obviously, this should stay secret. I’d suggest keeping your make-out sessions to a minimum.”

  “Point taken,” Matt agrees. “I assume whatever you came in for can wait? I have a short walk I need to take with my girl. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Bill is still grinning when we leave Matt’s office.

  This is huge. I mean, really big—and I’m not talking about Matt’s package. Although, that is really big, too.

  No, I’m referring to the fact that I’m standing on the threshold to Matt’s apartment, knocking on his door.

  No, I’m not stalking him. Before he left work for today, he stopped by my office and asked me if I would I like to come to his apartment for dinner, for our date.

  His. Apartment.

  The man that doesn’t take women that he’s fucking home.

  See… huge!

  Because that means he definitely sees me as more than just a great lay. He is truly seeing that maybe we are relationship material. He’s progressing far faster than I ever thought possible, and it makes me admire him even more for the efforts he’s making.

  The door opens, and a moment of pure giddiness possesses me when I see Matt. He’s beyond gorgeous as he stands there in dark-washed blue jeans and a tight, white t-shirt. His feet are bare, and he has a corkscrew in one hand. He is relaxed and happy to see me, and I melt a little more for him.

  “That’s not a new sexual toy you bought to use on me, is it?” I ask, looking at the corkscrew. “It looks like it may hurt.”

  Matt steps back to let me in, giving me a grin. “I don’t need toys to use on you, baby.”

  “No, you don’t,” I whole-heartedly agree.

  Looking around, I take in Matt’s apartment. It’s totally a man’s home. It has light beige walls, dark leather furniture, and a TV in the living room that practically takes up an entire wall. It’s comfortable looking though, and I immediately kick off the heels I wore with my jeans and peasant top, placing them near the door.

  “Come in the kitchen,” Matt says. “I’m finishing up dinner.”

  “Smells delish… What are we having?”

  “Nothing fancy. Just a quick, chicken casserole. I’m not that great of a cook.”

  “Then I’m very impressed that you are trying to cook for me. I think you might get lucky tonight.”

  Matt pulls a bottle of wine from a rack beside his refrigerator and opens it up. “We’re both getting lucky tonight,” he says softly.

  The tone of his voice… it’s seductively promising, and warmth rushes through me. He stares at me as he pours two glasses of wine, his eyes burning bright.

  “You’re very good at this,” I say as I take the wine that he offers me. I take a sip and sigh with pleasure.

  “What’s that?” he murmurs as he takes his own sip. His eyes blaze into me over the rim of his glass.

  “Dating me… trying to give me a relationship. It’s more than I expected, so thank you.”

  Matt sets his wineglass on the counter and walks up to me. He takes my hand and lifts it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss on the inside of my wrist. He stares at me as his lips move across my skin, and my pulse flutters madly in response.

  “You know,” he says as he takes my glass from my other hand and sets it on the counter, “I told myself I wasn’t going to touch you when got here, but when I opened my door and saw you, I knew that was a lie.”

  Taking my other wrist, he pulls it up to his mouth to give it a warm lick, followed by a soft kiss, all the while pinning me with his gaze. “Then I told myself I would wait until after dinner to have you, but now… touching you… tasting you like this…”

  Another warm kiss to my wrist, and then he continues, “Well, I knew that was lie, too.”

  Still holding my wrist, Matt walks up to the oven and turns it off. I have no choice but to follow. Turning, he leads me through the living room and down a hallway. His walk is casual, but I’m feeling anything but.

  He’s leading me to bed, where I know he’ll do terribly wicked things to me. The thought causes my most intimate muscles to clench almost painfully, and my panties to become damp.

  Matt wastes no time. He clasps my face in his large hands and pulls me in for a bone-melting kiss. It’s deep and luxurious… with deep swipes of his tongue and his breath hot against my lips. His hands seem to be everywhere on me… grasping my hip to pull me in close, cupping the underside of my breast, and trailing fingertips over my collarbone.

  Our clothes seem to melt away, and we stumble to the bed. Then it’s skin on skin. His palm cruises along my outer thigh while he sucks at my nipples. My fingers dig into his shoulders as my hips flex up into his because I need the contact.

  He murmurs things to me.

  As his hand goes between my legs, he says, “You’re perfect, Mac. Just fucking perfect.”

  His other hand squeezes my breast, and then he pinches a nipple, all the while whispering, “Beyond beautiful.”

  When he finally sinks into me, I watch his eyes close as he gives into the pleasure. He moves in and out of me in long, measured strokes that are neither too fast nor too slow. They are perfect, deep, and invading.

  Matt curls an arm under one of my legs, resting it in the crook of his elbow, and he hikes it up high. Angling his hips down, his next push in goes deeper than ever and he says, “Heaven… this is what Heaven must feel like.”

  All Matt’s words are just as seductive as the way he moves inside of me. His cock seduces my body, but his words seduce my heart.

  “Are you close?” he whispers in my ear, all the while with deliberate pumps between my legs.

  I nod, pressing my face into the skin at the base of his shoulder. I give a tiny lick that causes him to shudder. “So close.”

  “Me too,” Matt says as he picks up the pace. “I want us to come together.”

  “Yes,” I breathe out. “Together.”

  It only takes Matt’s hand slipping bet
ween our bodies to rub up against me, in just the right spot, and my orgasm tears free… racing up my spine, then back down again.

  I call his name out… loudly.

  He gives one last, hard push and then he’s jetting hot inside of me, murmuring, “Mac, Mac, Mac…”

  I wake up alone in Matt’s bed, the sunshine streaming through the window. I don’t need to wonder where he is though, because I’m immediately assaulted by the smell of bacon, which is… as you know… only like the best smell in the entire galaxy.

  Crawling out of bed, I grab Matt’s white t-shirt that got so carelessly discarded and head into the kitchen. I can’t help the way my breath catches a little as I watch him standing at the stove, wearing only his jeans. His back is tanned golden, and his muscles are supremely beautiful. His hair is sticking up all over the place, and he looks like a man who spent all night fucking his girlfriend.

  Just thinking of the things we did last night causes heat to flash between my legs. I mean, sex with Matt has always been beyond amazing, but there’s something different about it now that we have moved into relationship territory. It’s more intimate, and the craving goes much deeper.

  “Something smells good,” I say, and Matt turns to look at me. His eyes travel down the length of me, and my nipples harden nicely against his cotton t-shirt. He doesn’t fail to notice and I know this because first, his gaze is stuck to my chest, and second, his golden eyes darken to a mocha color.

  Matt reaches out and turns the stove off. His tongue peeks out and swipes at his lower lip as he walks up to me. My pulse speeds in response, and I hold my breath to see what he’ll do.

  Bending down, Matt picks me up to wrap my legs around his waist. The maneuver has his hands clutching my bare ass, and my legs dutifully lock around him.

  “Christ,” he mutters, flexing his fingers into my skin. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

  I smile at him and lace my fingers into his hair. “Nope.”

  “Good girl,” he commends and spins around to set me on the counter. He steps in close, and it’s the perfect height as his pelvis is in direct alignment with mine. Our mouths meet in open surrender to one another, and our kiss is fueled with lust.

  Hands roam roughly across hot skin. Matt whips off my t-shirt, moving his mouth across my breasts, while my hands stroke up his back.

  When he sticks one hand between my legs, he murmurs, “So wet. Can’t wait.”

  In a move so quick I’m not even sure I understand how it happened, Matt has his jeans unzipped and his dick pulled out, slamming it inside of me. I gasp at the intrusion, not because it’s unwelcome, but because if feels so fucking good.

  “I love the way you feel inside me,” I moan in his ear, and that causes him to pump harder between my legs.

  “Do you like the way I fuck you?” Matt rasps out just before he presses his teeth into my shoulder.

  “Y-e-e-e-s,” I manage to stammer while he sucks hard at my skin.

  “Do you want it harder?”

  “God, yes.”

  Matt pulls my hips off the edge of the counter and, with a palm to the center of my chest, pushes me to lay flat on my back. Then he starts to slam into me so hard it feels like my hipbones are going to pop out of joint.

  Still I cry out, “Harder.”

  Matt groans over my words and gives it to me harder.

  And about twenty seconds after that, we are both crying out each other’s names as we experience the mother lode of all simultaneous orgasms.

  There is a requisite period of rest, when Matt leans his head on my chest while our breathing gets back to normal.

  “That was insane,” I tell him, my fingers slipping through his hair to rub his scalp.

  “We’re completely depraved,” he observes, pushing his head harder against my palm. “I thought I might break you there for a minute.”

  I laugh softly. “It felt so good. You have complete permission to hammer at me that way any time you want.”

  Matt looks up at me and smiles, holding my gaze in a way that says, You really are like the perfect woman.

  He stands and zips himself up. Tearing off a paper towel, he gently cleans me up, placing soft kisses on my belly as he does. Then he pulls me up, places my t-shirt back over my head, and points me to a bar stool while he makes me a cup of coffee.

  I watch as Matt cooks me breakfast. It’s simple… just scrambled eggs and bacon, but there’s something touching about watching your lover cook for you.

  When he turns to place my plate before me, my cell phone, which is laying on the counter, starts to ring. I glance down at it at the same time Matt does, and I internally groan when the name “Cal Carson” displays across the screen. I reach out and slap at it to disconnect the ring, knowing that Cal will leave me a voice mail.

  I look up at Matt, prepared for him to go ballistic. There is a tiny tick in his jaw muscle, but his voice is fairly calm when he says, “Why is Cal calling you?”

  “We’re friends, Matt. Just friends.”

  Matt stares at me, his brow furrowed. “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like my friends,” I tell him.

  “You can be friends with him, even knowing what he did to me? I mean… you do know the sordid details, right? You know his friendship has no loyalty, right? And that’s the type of friend you want?”

  He’s angry, and I get it. He has every right to be, and I’m suddenly very confused. I want to be friends with Cal, but my loyalty has to be to Matt, right? I mean… he is my boyfriend.

  A pleasurable rush goes through me at the thought of Matt being my boyfriend. It’s something I want… very much.

  Matt looks at me intently. “Mac… I don’t know if I can do this with you if Cal is a part of your life.”

  My heart actually hurts for Matt because I see him standing there, looking at me with fear. He’s afraid I’ll walk away, and that Cal will destroy another relationship. But I’m not going to let that happen.

  I hop off the bar stool and walk up to him. Taking both of his hands in mine, I rub my thumbs over the backs in an attempt to soothe him.

  “Matt… if you want me to choose, then I choose you. Always. But before you ask me to do that, will you at least hear me out?”

  Relief washes over his face and his arms wrap around me, pulling me in. He doesn’t respond, so I pull back.

  “Will you? Just listen to me… for five minutes… and then you can ask me to choose if you want.”

  Matt purses his lips in distaste at my request, but he knows it’s not unreasonable, so he nods his head. Before he can change his mind, I lead him into the living room and push him down on the couch. Because I want to touch him, and because I want him to understand how much I love the intimacy we share, I crawl onto his lap and straddle him.

  His hands immediately come up to my waist, skimming under the edge of the t-shirt. I rest my hands on his shoulders and take a deep breath. “Okay… here’s the thing about Cal—”

  My words are cut off by a moan as Matt’s hand slides over the top of my thigh, and he sinks a finger into me. Closing my eyes, I submit to the feeling, but then I realize he is just distracting me from my mission.

  Pushing back against him, I hop off his lap and glare at him. “You promised you’d listen to me.”

  He smirks at me and shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry. You can’t sit your bare ass on my lap and not expect that to happen.”

  I glare at him harder, which causes his smirk to deepen. He’s leaning back on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him so they rest just under the edge of the coffee table. Sighing, I step over his legs and sit my rump down on the edge of the table. Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands. This is my “I’m getting ready to have a serious talk” pose.

  Matt’s gaze holds mine. Good, he knows I’m serious.

  I start to open my mouth when I see Matt’s eyes travel downward.

  Down… down… down.


  Until they are focused right between my legs.

  “Sorry, babe… you can’t expect me to pay attention when you’re flashing that at me. You’ve got five seconds to get some underwear on, or I’m going to throw you on the floor and fuck the shit out of you.”

  My skin breaks out in tingles, and for a split second, I almost let him do it. But then I realize that I need to have this talk, and besides… I’m betting I can convince him to fuck the shit out of me when the conversation is over.

  I run into the bedroom and slip my panties on, then I run back out before Matt gets up and changes his mind. But he’s still there, waiting patiently, and I decide to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. I even tuck my legs up demurely under me, and I ensure all my goods are covered.

  With a sigh, he turns and angles his body toward me, throwing one arm casually over the back of the couch.

  “Okay… spill it,” he says with resignation.

  I take a deep breath. “Okay… I have the floor. Just listen. Cal feels horrible about what happened.”

  “Good,” Matt sneers. “He should.”

  “Hey! You said you’d listen, so shut it. Like I said… his guilt is crushing him. He’s hurting right now.”

  Matt rolls his eyes. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”

  I don’t answer his question, because the answer is obvious. Instead, I say, “He must have been a really great friend.”

  “Why do you say that?” Matt asks suspiciously.

  “Because… I know you wouldn’t be hurting this bad if he had not been so dear to you.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Matt doesn’t even hedge. “Save it, Freud. You think I don’t know this already?”

  “Matt, do you even know what happened between Cal and your ex-wife?” I don’t think he does, because if he did… if what Cal told me happened was the truth, then I’m not so sure Matt would be this unyielding.

  “I know all I need to. She was married to me… he fucked her. What more is there?”

  “You’re not interested in the details?”

 

‹ Prev