“I want to be deep inside you, Matty,” he begged, uncaring that he sounded desperate. He was exactly that desperate. “Please get the—”
“Yes,” she murmured. She took the condom from the drawer.
He was shaking like a leaf, and she didn’t seem a whole lot steadier, but she took a deep breath and settled herself back on his thighs, as if she would handle the task. The way he was quivering, he was willing to let her.
She ripped open the package and took the condom out. Then she paused and wrapped her fingers around his erection. He gasped.
“You’re so beautiful. I hate to cover you up.” She lowered her head.
“Matty…no….” He clenched his whole body against the urge to climax when she slid her tongue just under the tip of his penis. Then she licked upward, catching the bead of moisture trembling there.
Lifting her head, she gazed at him as she ran her tongue over her lips. “You said you wanted everything.”
He’d thought he couldn’t be more aroused, but he’d been wrong. He watched her through a red haze of desire as she lowered her head and repeated the motion. Oh. Yes.
All feeling became focused at the point where her tongue made contact. And flicked and made contact again. He jerked in reaction and wondered how much more he could take. More. She gathered glistening drops like a hummingbird sipping nectar. Again her head dipped. Oh, how he ached. His restraint was going…going…
“Now,” he whispered when she raised her head once again.
Her blue eyes glowed. “Yes. Now.”
He closed his eyes and battled for control as she put the condom on. Then the mattress shifted, and she rested her hands on his shoulders. He opened his eyes and looked up into hers. Bracketing her waist with both hands, he held her gaze as he guided her down. Her eyes were luminous. He knew he’d never forget the way they looked at this moment.
Easy. Slow. There. He drew in a sharp breath. So good. So very good. He couldn’t imagine it could get any better than this.
Then she began to move, and he found out it definitely could get better. What she’d demonstrated on the dance floor she carried into the bedroom. Matty had rhythm.
The last scrap of restraint slipped away. He wanted it all, and he wasn’t afraid to ask for it. “Ride me, lady,” he whispered urgently. “Put the spurs to me, Matty.”
Lips parted, eyes bright, she did exactly that, giving him the trip of his life. His climax rushed at him like a stampeding herd, relentlessly bearing down on him. There was no holding back—not his release or his cries of pleasure. Both erupted from him unbidden as he was swept away.
Stunned by the impact, he didn’t realize for many long seconds that the fretting sound he was hearing came from the baby. Perhaps his baby. His baby.
“Oh no, Matty,” he moaned. “What have I done?”
NO AFTERGLOW for this girl, Matty thought. Sebastian had ruined the mood. Her body might still hum with pleasure, but only because her body hadn’t yet gotten the word that the party was over.
Matty figured Sebastian would have an attack of conscience eventually. She just didn’t expect it to come on him the minute Elizabeth cried. She’d hoped that with the top-shelf brand of lovemaking they’d enjoyed, he’d think twice about his noble intentions to save himself for the mother of his baby. If Elizabeth even was his baby.
With a sigh of regret she rolled away from him and began struggling back into her clothes while he headed for the bathroom. Unfortunately she could only cover the bottom half of her. Her shirt, minus some buttons, and her bra were lying somewhere in the kitchen.
She shoved her foot into her boot and stood. “I’ll be right back to help you with Elizabeth,” she called. Then she went into her room, found the sweatshirt she’d thrown in the overnight bag that morning, and pulled it over her head. Her hair was still braided—barely—and her mouth felt chapped and swollen from all that unaccustomed kissing. She probably looked like a mess.
But how she looked didn’t matter. Sebastian might have let himself get carried away one time—after all, he was overdue for a roll in the hay—but now that Matty had allowed him to release that tension, he’d be strong enough to resist her. And from the deep regret in his single question, she was sure he believed that resisting her was the right thing to do.
She couldn’t blame him for making love to her, which his virile body had demanded, or giving her up, which his conscience apparently required. Both decisions were totally Sebastian.
Oh, but the lovemaking had been glorious. Better than she’d imagined, and she’d imagined it would be spectacular. She finally knew how potent the combination of lust and respect could be. They had a word for that combination, she realized, and she’d never quite understood the concept until today.
The word was love.
By the time she returned to the bedroom he had clothes on and was reaching for Elizabeth.
“Wait.” Matty tried not to think of their lovemaking as she looked at him, but everything came rushing back, and her body tingled, wanting more. Dammit.
He glanced up at her, his gaze guarded. “She’s crying.”
She remembered the open, needy look in his eyes moments ago, and swallowed a lump of despair. “I know, but she’s not crying hard. She might go back to sleep if we give her the pacifier.”
“Where is it?”
She suddenly felt very tired. “I think I put it in the kitchen. I’ll go look.”
The fire had burned down and the living room was chilly as she hurried through. The snow had stopped gusting and now fell in thick, fat flakes. A quick glance out the window revealed a hefty accumulation on the ground.
Both dogs lifted their heads and smacked their tails on the floor as she passed the dining room. “Hang on,” she said. “I’ll take you both out for a run in a while.”
She hadn’t realized until then how much she longed to get out of the house and away from Sebastian. He might have taken the edge off his desire with their lovemaking, but she’d only stoked her fire. The more she was closed in with him, the worse the longing would become. She’d struggled with her desire before, but after knowing what loving him was like, keeping her needs hidden would be torture.
The scene in the kitchen only reinforced that belief. The scattered dishes, the uneaten lunch, her blouse and bra on the floor and buttons lying on the counter made her want to scream in frustration. Why did he have to be so damned principled?
If Jessica had wanted him, she would have set out to get him, wouldn’t she? Instead she’d left the baby and taken off. Even if the baby was his, Jessica didn’t love him. And Matty did. He would be a fool to force a relationship with Jessica just to create the nuclear family he held such store by. Maybe she’d tell him that, and at least put up a fight.
She located the pacifier on the drainboard, gave it one more rinse for good measure, and took it back into the bedroom.
Sebastian was crouched next to the drawer gently rubbing Elizabeth’s tummy, his brow furrowed with concern.
The fight went right out of Matty. Sebastian was bonding with this baby, and marrying her mother would be the only way he could see his child every day. Originally he might have wanted the arrangement for Elizabeth’s sake, but now he might have another reason. Matty couldn’t argue with him if he really wanted to be a full-time father.
She approached him and held out the pacifier. “Here.”
He started to get up. “Maybe you’d better—”
“No. You try it.” She shoved it toward him again. “Tease her mouth with it and see if she doesn’t start sucking.” Matty’s pulse quickened at the flash of awareness in his eyes, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same thing she was. Everything between them could have double meanings now. As she’d imagined, it would be torture.
Without commenting, he turned back to Elizabeth and stroked the pacifier over her mouth. “She’s not taking it.”
“Keep trying.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay, Elizabeth
,” he crooned as he rubbed the nipple over her rosebud mouth. “You need a little more sleep, sweetheart. Latch onto this and close those pretty eyes.”
Gradually the baby stopped fussing and stared up at Sebastian. She waved her fists and gurgled before finally taking the pacifier.
“I don’t really like that thing,” Sebastian said as he gazed down at her.
“I know, but like Nellie said, if she’s bottle-fed instead of breast-fed, she might not be getting enough sucking action to satisfy her.”
“Then why didn’t Jessica leave one?”
“She might have been breast-feeding until recently, when she got spooked and decided to leave Elizabeth here. She might not have needed a pacifier and didn’t think to add one.”
“Or she doesn’t like them, either.”
Irritation flashed through Matty. “Well, that’s too bad if she doesn’t, because she’s not here to supervise. So I guess we’ll have to make some decisions without her.”
Sebastian shook his head. “I sure don’t feel good about that.”
“You’re doing fine. And the sooner you assume total care of her, the better, so I can get back to the Leaning L.”
He glanced up sharply, but he didn’t have to ask what she meant. His understanding was plain from his sorrowful expression as he looked at her. “I’m sorry, Matty. More sorry than I can say.”
Summoning what little pride she had left, she managed a smile. “Don’t be sorry, cowboy. I had a great time.”
“I don’t want this to come between us.”
She couldn’t imagine how they’d ever resume their old relationship, but she wasn’t about to say that now. “We’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen, won’t we?”
He nodded.
“But right now I could use some air. So while you make sure she goes back to sleep I’m going to take the dogs out for a run.”
“In the snow?”
“I was born in this country, Sebastian. I can take the weather.” She headed out of the bedroom and whistled for the dogs.
With growing despair Sebastian observed the saucy rhythm of her walk as she left the room. Only the baby lying in the drawer kept him from bellowing out his frustration as he thought of all he would miss if he couldn’t make love to Matty again. Ever. And he wanted to make love to her again. Forever.
He still couldn’t believe that the one he’d been born to hold had been living right down the road for the past ten years. His sense of loyalty had blinded him to her while he was married to Barbara, and for some reason he hadn’t taken those blinders off, even after Barbara was gone. The divorce must have deadened his emotions more than he’d realized.
But his emotions weren’t dead now. Matty had opened him up like a surprise package, and he ached to take her back in his arms, back in his bed. As luck would have it, the minute he found out what he wanted, who he wanted, the right to make that choice was taken from him by this little pink bundle gazing up at him with gray-blue eyes.
Damn, but that face was starting to look more familiar with every passing hour. The sweet baby scent of her filled him with a kind of satisfaction, and he’d become more used to the notion of picking her up. And now, each time he held her, he felt a tug in the general vicinity of his heart. Maybe that was what happened with a baby who was flesh of your flesh. Maybe nature had a way of creating that biological link.
He met Elizabeth’s unblinking gaze. “Are you mine, little girl?” he murmured.
12
SEBASTIAN DIDN’T LIKE being the guilty party, and he seemed to have it stenciled on his forehead lately. First he’d been hit with a baby he might have created in a drunken stupor, and now he had to face the responsibility for losing control with Matty.
Once Elizabeth drifted off to sleep, he cleaned up the kitchen. But taking care of the mess he’d made seducing Matty made him feel even more guilty. And since guilt made him grouchy, he decided to have a beer instead of eating lunch. The bite of the amber liquid suited his mood. Then he decided the least he could do was sew Matty’s buttons back on for her, and that demanded a second beer.
He wasn’t good with a needle and thread under the best of circumstances, and these were not the best of circumstances. He pricked his fingers so many times that he got blood on her shirt, tiny spots of red sprinkled on the pink gingham. By the time Matty came through the back door he was sewing and swearing, but there was a cheerful lilt to his swearing. He was glad to be completing at least one job successfully, and a little blood never hurt anything.
Standing on the mat by the back door, Matty stomped the snow from her boots while holding the collars of both very wet dogs, who wiggled with excitement from their run. “Maybe we should have a couple of old towels,” she said, concentrating on the dogs. “Easy, Sadie. That’s a good girl, Fleafarm.”
He sat gazing at her, too caught up in her wholesome beauty to think about towels for the dogs. His chest tightened with longing as he imagined what it would be like to have her coming in that back door every day, eager for his arms, his kisses, his loving. And all along she’d lived right down the road. What an idiot he’d been.
“It’s cold out there, but gorgeous,” she said. “There’s something so refreshing about a fresh snowfall, right, girls? We saw a snowshoe bunny, didn’t we? Almost caught it, too! Whoops!” She lost her grip on Fleafarm, who pranced into the middle of the kitchen and shook, spraying Sebastian.
He winced, but didn’t complain. After all, he probably deserved whatever came his way.
Matty glanced at him. “Hey, I’m sorry. If you’ll find me those towels, I’ll—” She paused and stared at the blood-spotted shirt in his hands. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
“Sewing buttons,” he said. He wasn’t drunk by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d had enough to blunt the pain of discovering that his life sucked. And he was to blame. “And I’ll have you know I’m damn near finished with the frigging things,” he said with a trace of pride.
“Oh, Sebastian.” She released Sadie, who also walked into the middle of the kitchen and shook, although her short coat didn’t fling water nearly as far as Fleafarm’s had done. Then both dogs lapped water from their bowls and flopped to the kitchen floor, each of them giving off the musty aroma of wet dogs.
Silently Matty wound her way through the prone dogs and headed to the round oak table where he sat. She pulled out a chair close to him and sat down. As she shrugged out of her coat and hitched it over the back of the chair, the scent of cold, pine, and that special scent that was Matty drifted his way. He took a deep breath and kept sewing, although it was tougher than usual to push the needle through the tiny holes when his hands trembled.
He wanted her. He wanted to toss aside the bloodstained shirt, stand and pull her into his arms. He wanted to kiss her until she molded herself against him the way she had before.
“You’ve pricked the hell out of your fingers,” she said gently.
“Doesn’t matter.” He glanced at her briefly. Damn, she looked good, with her cheeks rubbed pink by the cold and her hair curling in damp wisps around her face. Her lips would be cool from the chilly air, but the inside of her mouth would be hot. He swallowed. “You hungry?”
“Not particularly.”
“Want a beer?”
“Sure.”
He pushed back his chair. “I’ll get—”
“Never mind. I’ll share yours.” She picked up the bottle and tilted it to her full lips, her lashes drifting down as she took a sip. Then she put the bottle down and gazed at him, her eyes filled with a soft, vulnerable light. “Thanks.”
He wanted her so much his throat ached. “You’re welcome.”
“I had some time to think, out there playing with the dogs.”
“Matty, if you want to go home, then go. I’ll figure this out. And if I can’t, I’ll hire somebody. I can’t forgive myself for bringing you into this and then…” He couldn’t find the right words. “And then…”
�
�And then loving me better than I’ve ever been loved.”
He glanced down, not wanting to hear that. “You probably overrated it because it’s been awhile for you.”
“It’s been awhile, but my memory is excellent. With Butch, I always wondered if that was as good as it got. Then I’d blame myself for not being responsive enough, especially after I found out—” She stopped abruptly, clearing her throat.
His head came up. “Found out what?”
“Never mind.” She avoided his gaze. “No point in discussing old history.”
She knew about the affair. He was dead sure about it. And she’d never mentioned it to him because she was trying to protect him, just as he’d tried to protect her. His heart twisted. “Matty, I know about it.”
Her gaze swung back to his, and the pain of that old hurt was still there. “When did you find out?”
His short laugh was directed at himself. “I would never have found out. My mind doesn’t work that way. Barbara told me after she asked for a divorce.”
“Oh, Sebastian.” Her hand covered his. “How cruel for her to tell you then. No wonder you retreated into your shell.”
He turned his hand over and held hers. He stared at those linked hands and knew that in a sane world, that would be the way he and Matty would go through life. “You found out long before that, didn’t you?”
“About a week before Butch was killed.” Matty kept her attention on their joined hands, too, as if drawing strength from the contact. “We had a big argument about it the day he died. He shouldn’t have been flying that day, considering the bad weather and his mental state. But hopping in that plane was an escape for him. He always said that while he was up there, his problems seemed to go away.”
Sebastian lifted his head and rubbed his thumb over hers as he studied her. “You know, I’ve forgiven him for what he did to me, but I may never forgive him for what he did to you.”
She met his gaze. “He was weak and insecure, like Barbara. But I can forgive him, especially now, thanks to you.”
The Colorado Kid Page 13
