by Aimee Carson
Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the heat or the sight of him in nothing but briefs, he wasn’t sure.
“You know,” she said dryly, “I wasn’t kidding before. There are gators in these waters. So you best keep all your dangly bits inside your underwear.”
He laughed, secretly pleased with the first words out of her mouth. “Thanks for the warning.”
Matt fought the urge to cup her neck and drag her close for another kiss. Memories of their time in the fitting room that first night flooded his mind. The taste of her mouth, the feel of her hip.
Good thing the water was fairly cool because spontaneous combustion felt like a possibility. Unfortunately, despite being a strong swimmer he couldn’t figure out how to follow through on the impulse to take that mouth in the way he wanted without drowning them both. Instead, he stretched out on his back to float, biding his time until she climbed out of the water and onto the dock. In wet clothes.
Just thinking about the sight made his groin grow tight.
Pushing the thought from his mind, he stared up at the canopy of cypress trees and the sunlight peeking through the leaves, letting the peaceful scene wash over him. For the ten years since his parents had died and he’d assumed responsibility of Tommy, he’d been living life on edge. The roller-coaster ride of Tommy’s addiction had worn him out, leaving him constantly braced for the next bad happening. Taking a moment to just relax was a revelation.
“This is nice,” he said.
He turned his head and met Callie’s face just a few feet from his, also floating.
“I love Louisiana.” Her smile wrinkled her nose in a way that could only be described as cute. “Never want to live anywhere else.”
What would that be like? To live where you wanted, instead of where you had to?
He’d been stuck with Manford as his home base for so long, looking after Tommy, that he couldn’t imagine a life anywhere else. But nothing about his hometown appealed to him. Never had. Never would. He’d grown up there dying to get out. But when his parents had died during his third year of college, he’d had no choice but to transfer back home before his senior year. To attend medical school and complete his E.R. residency in Detroit. Commuting as much as he could. Sleeping in the on-call room when too tired to make the drive back home.
Sometimes he wondered if his brother’s life would have turned out differently had Matt been around more during Tommy’s early years of college.
He hated those self-defeating thoughts.
“But as much as I love New Orleans—” Callie’s hand brushed his “—every once in a while I have to get out of town and come back here. It’s so...peaceful.”
They continued to float for a few more minutes, and every muscle in Matt’s body slowly relaxed, until he truly felt like a floater, washed up on the beach. No tension. No worries about what tomorrow would bring.
A distant rumble of thunder broke the peace and sent them swimming for shore. Matt reached the dock first, hauling himself up. He turned and leaned down to take Callie’s hand, pulling her up onto the dock...and straight into his arms.
He made no pretense that his actions were an accident. He dragged her dripping body up against his, until the wet T-shirt pressed so enticingly against her breasts was plastered against his chest. His body let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the dressing room,” he said.
She leaned back and eyed him. “I’m guessing your thoughts didn’t include a dock house and a battered deck.”
“The setting is irrelevant.”
Since their kisses in the costume-shop dressing room, Matt hadn’t been able to think of much else besides getting Callie back in his arms. And now that he had her here, he was going to take full advantage.
He swooped in for a kiss, gathering those soft lips against his, and a tiny moan escaped Callie. The sound shot straight to his groin.
Matt pressed his hand to the back of her head and molded himself more firmly against her. Water dripped from Callie’s hair, landing on his arms, and Matt was surprised the drops didn’t hit his overheated skin and fizzle into vapor. The taste and the feel of Callie in his arms were just as good as he remembered. He touched his tongue to her lower lip, and she opened her mouth wide, letting him inside. But, good God, this time it wasn’t enough.
Ignoring the warning voices in his head, he lifted Callie into his arms. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, her body just brushed the top of his hard shaft. This time the groan came from him.
“Callie—”
He eyed the scene and then, decision made, headed for the hammock. Callie pressed herself more firmly against Matt.
“Callie.”
She wasn’t helping his self-control here.
He tumbled her back onto the hammock, the action creating a gentle rocking motion, and caught his weight with his hand. He stared down into brown eyes framed with thick lashes, wet from their swim.
“I’m not prepared for this.” Even as he said the words, he stretched out beside her, covering that soft body with his own. The smell of shampoo—magnolia scented, maybe?—came from her hair.
Stupid, really, to torture himself this way. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I just want to enjoy holding you for a moment.” His lips tipped up at the edges. “Minus the audience on the other side of a dressing-room door.”
“I figured the perv finally wanted to cop a feel.”
The image of doing exactly that left Matt’s chuckle sounding strained. When Callie shifted slightly beneath him, pressing more of that soft body against his, the amusement died on his lips.
“Whatever we do,” he said, “we leave the clothes on. I don’t have a condom, but I know I’d have a devil of a time focusing on the technicalities if you were naked.”
Matt swiped his hand down her side, cupping her thigh, and she closed her eyes. “So the clothes stay on,” she said. “Got it.”
The verbal agreement spiked his pulse higher, and he pressed her mouth open again with his, finally realizing the honey-colored hair and the honey drawl matched her honey taste.
Jesus, he needed to touch her.
He unsnapped her cutoffs and flattened his palm low against her slender belly.
“Matt.” She arched her back in invitation, pressing closer, her eyes still closed. “I thought we’d agreed about the clothes—”
“We did. I’m not taking them off,” he said. “I just want to touch you.”
He fumbled briefly at the edge of her panties, cursing softly along the way. Why the hell was he so clumsy? But the need rushing through his veins made his fingers feel too hot and too eager and too greedy to go slow.
Matt shifted and tilted his head to take more of Callie’s mouth as he finally succeeded in slipping his hand beneath the elastic band, seeking out the sweet spot that would bring about the response he craved. If he couldn’t take exactly what he was dying for, then he wanted to hear Callie calling his name. He knew the flush staining her cheeks now had nothing to do with the heat wave. Goose bumps peppered her skin as he slid his palm lower with a purpose.
When he reached his goal, the soft folds beneath his fingers, Callie arched against him.
“Matt.” She reached for his arms, her eyes wide. “I need—”
“I know what you need.”
Callie gripped his forearm and he paused, refusing to give up his position, before stroking her between her legs.
With a groan, Callie closed her eyes. “That’s mighty presumptuous of you.”
“At this point,” he said dryly. “I don’t think either of us is thinking much beyond the big O.”
She sounded out of breath. “You’re too goal-oriented.”
“Isn’t that the point of all this?”
“The point is,” she
said, shifting a little lower down his chest, “to enjoy the journey en route.”
And then Callie’s hand landed on his hard-on, and Matt sucked in a breath and froze. The images ricocheting around his head included one of him shucking her pants and sliding between her thighs. But the one that wreaked the most havoc was of Callie’s face, eyes dreamy and jaw slack as he thrust hard and brought them both to a rousing finale.
“Callie. I’m not sure—”
She tunneled her hand beneath his underwear.
“You’re not sure of what?” she said, and she began to stroke him through the cotton briefs, sending a stab of pleasure down his groin and searing his skin.
The urge to roll over and pin Callie beneath him sent a small shudder down his spine.
Matt let out an undignified curse. “I’m not sure this is wise.”
She smiled against his mouth and then gave his lower lip a little nip. “If you get to touch me, then I get to touch you.”
Well, hell, who could argue with logic like that?
Matt had just about adjusted to the fingers stroking him through the cotton when she ran her finger across the sensitive head, pulling an embarrassing groan from his mouth.
“Hmm,” she murmured. “That was fun. Let’s see if I get the same response again.”
Matt left her lips and ran his mouth down the curve of her breast toward the center. The wet layer of cotton and the lace beneath were frustrating, but he continued to nip, placing sucking kisses along the path from one side to the other. He flicked his tongue across the tip, the partial bud growing fuller in response, and he grinned. Her fingers on his erection fumbled a little, and her free hand gripped the short hair at the back of his neck, pulling his head up until they were face-to-face.
The wide pupils and parted mouth were a beautiful sight, right before she dove in for a soul-searing kiss that almost had him losing his focus, his fingers briefly losing their rhythm beneath her pants.
“Here’s an idea,” he said, his voice throatier than he would have liked. “Let’s see who can stay the most focused.”
Eyelids wide, she said, “Clothes stay on?”
“Deal.”
Matt knew he was in trouble when Callie stopped kissing him and pulled back to look at his face. Her lips—ruddy from being consumed by his—curled into a grin and, before Matt could figure out what she had in mind, her hand slipped beneath his briefs and made contact, closing around his erection. Her soft palm encircled his hard length.
For a moment, his mind went blank and his heart flatlined.
“Callie.” This time her name came out more of a groan. “I can’t—”
Callie writhed against him, encouraging his fingers to get with the program again. Desperate, he used his free hand to ruck her shirt up to just beneath her breasts before he caught himself, remembering their deal.
Why’d he come up with this torture?
Matt bent forward and captured the tip of her breast with his mouth again, cursing the two layers of fabric between them. Callie’s hand stroked him faster, and the need building low in his back began to increase in intensity, his movements less about teasing and more about pushing them both over the edge. And the devouring of her with his lips and teeth and tongue became as much about satisfying his need as hers.
Callie’s lids went wide, her mouth partially open as she sucked in breath after breath, and her hand began to falter, the rhythm of her strokes stuttering. When she arched her back, her body giving one final shudder, she dragged her thumb directly over his sensitive tip. Matt’s spine went stiff, the orgasm shooting through him, stripping the strength from his limbs.
Matt had no idea how many minutes passed before his endorphin-soaked brain became aware of his surroundings again. A breeze gently rocked the hammock and cooled their sweat-slicked skin. The smell of sex hung in the air, and the feel of Callie’s soft body pressed against Matt’s lulled him into a sense of peace. In fact, he might have sworn never to move again.
“That was definitely the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on,” he said, his eyes still closed. “I haven’t done the third-base-only thing since high school.”
“Third base. Really? Do people still use the term?”
He looked down at Callie with a grin. “Only perverts like me.”
She tipped back her head and laughed, and the movement sent their slick torsos sliding against each other.
“Um...” Callie wiggled against the mess between them as a small smile crept up her face. “I think we’re going to need to go for another dip in the water.”
FIVE
The next morning, Callie leaned back in the chair in her office and stared blankly at her laptop, currently parked on her desk. She’d come to work early to get some planning done, but after the hot moment in the hammock yesterday, her mind hadn’t been the same. Her body hadn’t been the same. How could she concentrate on creating a medieval menu for a wedding reception when all she could think about was Matt?
Especially getting Matt...naked.
They’d driven back to the city, and the parting had been full of untapped potential. Unfortunately she’d had a meeting with a client last evening, so she couldn’t invite him up to her condo. And no matter how far things had gone between the two of them, she still felt awkward asking him to come to her place once she was free. A request synonymous with asking him over for a night of sex.
Not that there was anything wrong with that.
After all, they were two consenting adults.
However, if her current mind frame were any indication, having Matt Paulson around would surely slow down her progress at work.
Callie set her elbow on her sleek cherrywood desk and propped her chin in her hand. Perhaps Matt was right. Maybe she should stop avoiding the extended family. Maybe if she simply started showing up to the various family functions her relatives would stop continuing to file her away under the to-be-pitied category. Avoiding the family while waiting for time to take care of the issue hadn’t helped.
For God’s sake, ten years surely would have cured the problem by now.
But continuing to avoid the family amounted to everyone thinking she was hiding in shame, which couldn’t be further from the truth. She needed to show up, hold her head high and let everyone see that she was exactly where she wanted to be in her life, past mistakes be damned.
Callie sat up and fired off an email to her aunt, accepting the invitation to the family reunion. If she was lucky, maybe Matt would still be around and she could ask him to come with her. A little steadying presence by her side would be welcome for sure. Of course, having him around meant they could actually make it beyond the juvenile label of third base.
Unfortunately, the thought of Matt in her bed sidetracked her again.
“Callie.”
Startled, she looked up. Colin stood on the other side of her desk, looking down at her with a bemused expression on his face, dark hair curling a bit just above his ears. How had he entered her office without her even hearing him? After a quick check of her watch, she realized fifteen minutes had passed by without her knowledge. Good Lord, she’d never get anything done at this rate.
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer,” Colin said.
“Sorry.” Callie sat up and pretended to shuffle through a few files on her desk. “What have I done to warrant a visit from my favorite ex-boyfriend?”
Colin let out a huff of humor and dropped into the seat across from her. “I’d take that as a compliment if you had more exes running around.”
Callie lifted a brow dryly, determined to remain unaffected by the efficiently targeted, well-meaning jab. Unfortunately, when Colin went on, remaining unaffected became impossible.
Colin crossed his arms. “The Paulson thing is turning into a bigger deal than I thought.”
>
Oh, God.
Stunned, Callie stared at her ex, hoping to read exactly what he was talking about in his expression. But nothing in his blue eyes gave away his thoughts. Had he already guessed she was slipping quickly into a thing, for lack of a better word, with Matt? Callie racked her brain trying to figure out how she’d given everything away. Short of Matt leaving handprints on her body she was at a loss to explain the turn of events. Unless Colin had suddenly developed psychic powers she didn’t know about.
“Uh...bigger deal?” she said.
“Yes. Like nationally televised newsworthy deal.”
Television?
Matt would look good on a sex tape.
“Wait, what?” She shook her head and leaned back in her seat, trying to pry her mind out of the gutter. “I’m confused.”
Clearly Colin was talking about something other than her relationship with Matt. Their sexual exploits, while hot in a kind of innocent way, were hardly the stuff of tabloids.
“The Dungeons of Zhorg community caught wind of the Paulson wedding,” Colin said. “And there are people clamoring to come for some of the events.”
Callie stared at her ex, her heart working overtime to supply enough blood to her brain. She’d only been gone for a day. One day. She’d enjoyed lunch with Matt, taken a swim and indulged in an erotic, fully clothed moment with a handsome guy. When the heck had everything become so crazy?
Being caught up in a sex-tape scandal suddenly seemed appealing in comparison.
“The LARP event was to be for the wedding guests only,” Callie said.
“That was the original idea. But someone at Gamer’s World got wind of the plans and now they want in on the action, too. I called and spoke with Tommy Paulson myself, and he and his fiancée are in favor of making this as big as we want, as long as Rainstorm Games foots the bill for all the extras. Our publicist is contacting the local networks and several of them are interested in running a human interest piece about Tommy and Penny’s story.”
