"I'm still wet!"
"I don't give a damn."
Goose bumps prickled her skin, and her nipples tightened in the cooler air. Matt made a low sound and his jaw clenched. He gave her a hard, quick kiss, then walked to the Wal-Mart bags on the floor. He quickly rummaged around until he grunted in triumph and returned with a box of condoms.
"This ought to last the night," he said. She stared at him, not sure what to say, and he suddenly grinned, eyes crinkling in that sweet, almost boyish way of his. "Just joking. I do have a sense of humor, you know."
Turning away, Matt took care of business with an efficiency that sobered her. She sucked in a long, shaky breath. This is it … no turning back now.
He faced her again, his gaze probing, as if checking to make sure she hadn't changed her mind – and his care for her swept aside her few remaining doubts. She opened her arms to him, smiling.
Matt moved over her, his heat blanketing her, stoking her desire until it was deliciously taut and sweetly sharp.
His kisses were still urgent, but not as rough as before. She expected him to move fast – a kiss here, a fondle there, and then push inside her – but Matt had other ideas. She already felt as if she were about to explode, and it amazed her that he could hold back like this.
He was on his knees, looming above her in the fading light of an October evening. He placed his palms on her hips, and slowly glided them upward until he covered her breasts.
She sighed, and he smiled. "You like that?"
"Oh, yes," she whispered.
His thumbs played with her, making her squirm and arch her hips. He bent, his mouth brushing hers, and he whispered, "Tonight, you're mine."
A sharp thrill shot through her at his husky words, and it stunned her that such a primitive male possessiveness could so arouse her. But an older, female awareness understood – and when his hot mouth closed over her breast, she stopped caring.
Nothing mattered beyond the feel of his mouth, the ache demanding to be eased. Now … right now.
"Matt, please," she whispered.
"I know," he murmured, moving to her other breast, kissing and teasing the nipple until she nearly came from the pleasure of that alone.
Sensing how close she was to the edge, he pulled back and kissed her mouth – a deep and devouring kiss. He put all of his need for her in that kiss, holding nothing back. All the intensity, all the tightly leashed passion, all that dark power.
His mouth still on hers, Matt slipped his hand lower, eased her legs farther apart, and touched her. Lightly, slowly at first, and when her breathing grew sharper, more ragged, and her hips rose urgently against him, he fanned her sensitized flesh until the orgasm rocked through her. She stiffened, rising against him, and cried out. Her nails dug into his arm as her other hand closed into a fist on the blankets.
The sweet aftershocks were still pulsing through her when his hands lifted her hips, and the hard flesh of his erection pushed against her. Her eyes flew open as he entered her on a fast, smooth stroke – and Matt went very still for a moment, jaw clenched, eyes locked on her.
"Oh, yeah," he whispered thickly, moving his hips, slowly forward, slowly back. "So good … so good."
His low, rough voice excited her, but he didn't say anything else, too intent on going slow for her sake. His eyes glazed over as he focused inward, the corded tendons of his neck standing out, his breathing rapid.
Lili wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing him hard against her – and pleasure shot through her. She gasped, and his attention snapped back to her face. She squeezed his shoulders in a wordless appeal.
At once his rhythm changed, from slow, teasing strokes to a fast, forceful pumping, and that liquid, inner tension wound tighter and tighter and tighter…
Resting his forearms on either side of her head, Matt dropped his head on the crook of her neck, and she felt his heated breath, heard his low groans. He kissed her ear, his tongue tracing its shape, and the pleasure snapped free. She came fast and hard, with a sharp, high gasp.
Matt made a sound almost like pain, his hips driving forward a final time, muscles going rigid. A moment later he slumped on top of her, all that tensed urgency transformed to deliciously heavy, warm male.
Lili lay still, eyes closed, soaking in sensations as languor seeped through her. His skin was faintly damp with perspiration, and his beard was rough and scratchy. He was still inside her, and she didn't move, wanting the moment of peace and completeness to last as long as possible.
Gradually, as she held him in her arms, she became aware of an unexpected feeling of protectiveness. Odd, considering that Matt, of all people, hardly needed protecting.
Yet it was there, strong and insistent, and she tightened her arms around him, kissing the bit of chin she could reach, and whispered, "No regrets at all."
Fifteen
Lili awoke to birdsong – trills and lilts and cheerful cheeps – and opened her eyes with a contented sigh. It was a much nicer way to wake up than the blaring taxi horns and wailing sirens back home.
Gradually she became aware of a chill breeze, the whisper of a lacy curtain billowing against the windowsill, and the warmth of a body pressed along her back. A warmth all the more welcome because of the room's coolness – they'd forgotten to close the window.
Not that she minded; it was the perfect excuse to cuddle. She turned, careful not to disturb him, and smiled. Waking up with Matt Hawkins in her bed wasn't a bad way to start her day, either.
He was sound asleep, sprawled on his stomach, his head turned toward her. Her gaze traveled along the angles of his face, softened in sleep, across the dark stubble on his jaw, and lingered on those long, thick lashes fanning across his cheekbones. Very carefully, she touched his lashes with her finger tip, both admiring and a little envious.
The curve of his mouth lured her finger downward, and she traced the shape of them, remembering the exquisite feel of his lips over her body during the night.
And here … that sexy, intriguing dimple in his chin. She loved how it looked, and how it gentled the hard lines of his face.
Her gaze fell on the plain wedding band on her finger, and she went still. So strange, the feel of it – heavy, almost. She couldn't help but be aware of this unfamiliar weight and all it symbolized. Her thumb played with the ring, twisting it on her finger.
She glanced at Matt's hand, loosely curled on the blanket, where his ring gleamed. She dropped her hand from his face, uncomfortable at how real their pretend "marriage" felt at the moment. Or maybe it was only that a part of her wished it were real, especially after those long, intimate hours that had passed between them.
And not all intense, either. At three in the morning Matt had gone prowling in the kitchen for food, returning with a bag of cheese curls, a bottle of champagne the resort stocked in the fridge for honeymooners, a smile, and a husky, smart-aleck remark: Am I a classy date or what?
She'd munched on cheese curls, getting neon-orange crumbs in his chest hair. He complained about that, so she'd tried brushing them away, but was a little tipsy after a couple of glasses of champagne, and the next thing she knew she was lapping champagne off his body, and one thing pretty much led to another.
He'd been gentle with her last night, and rough, too, in a playful way that she'd liked. He'd made love to her twice more after the first time, and despite his care, this morning she was feeling the effects of that last, lengthy bout of athletic lovemaking.
Her face and breasts were tender from beard burn – she'd have to remind him to shave today – and her bottom and leg muscles were a little sore. Her past boyfriends, while considerate and decent men, had mostly taken the steak-and-potatoes approach to sex. The sex had been satisfying and pleasant, but not nearly as vigorous and imaginative as her one night with Matt.
For a moment, she considered why that was – had it been because she'd held back for some reason, or because her other lovers had found basic sex satisfying enough?
Matt ce
rtainly hadn't.
Lili liked to think she was comfortable with her sexuality, but when Matt had asked to tie her wrists to the bed, she'd been surprised. Not so much by the suggestion – which greatly intrigued her – but that he'd even thought she might enjoy a little playful bondage sex.
Did he see something in her that past lovers hadn't? A rather provocative thought…
She propped her head on her palm, studying him, nearly overwhelmed by possessiveness, satisfaction – and other confusing feelings that left her a little panicky.
But even with her impulsiveness, falling in love with her bodyguard would be going too far, and she knew better than to make a mistake like that.
Lili sighed, and shivered a little in the cool air. Her stomach growled – loudly – and she eased out of bed, pulling the covers over Matt. He mumbled in his sleep, and rolled onto his back. She went still, but his eyes didn't open, and he began snoring softly.
It made her smile. She'd never seen him sleep this deeply before. Back at the Drake he'd always been awake when she went to bed, and awake when she rolled out of bed in the morning.
No wonder he looked exhausted. Holding back her hair so it wouldn't brush against him, she bent and kissed him softly on the forehead.
She shut the window, then tiptoed to the bathroom, closed the door quietly behind her, and took a long, hot shower; working out the soreness and daydreaming under the gentle spray of water.
After she combed out her hair, brushed her teeth, and applied a bit of makeup, she walked back into the bedroom, expecting to find Matt awake. What she found was an empty bed, with the covers pulled up.
"Matt?"
No answer. Frowning, Lili pulled on the nearest flannel shirt – one of the new ones, and apparently Matt's, since it hung nearly to her knees, and went out to the kitchen and living room.
Empty.
Trying to ignore her rising worry – he'd never before left her alone – Lili opened the front door and walked out onto the small porch. Sunlight assaulted her eyes, and she squinted, spotting him immediately.
He was walking from the car toward the cabin, whistling, and holding what looked like a shallow cardboard box with two cups of coffee inside.
Breakfast! God bless the man.
"Hey," she called. "Is that coffee?"
"And donuts," he answered. "There's a continental breakfast in the lobby, but everything's pretty picked over by now."
She bounced on her bare feet, arms wrapped around herself against the chill, as she waited for him to join her.
Matt wore a partially buttoned flannel shirt over a long-sleeved black T-shirt and jeans, and she noted that Wal-Mart's idea of a size large didn't match Matt's needs – especially in the shoulders.
"Good morning," she said, a blush heating her face.
"Morning," he murmured, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile, and then he kissed her. Not just a little peck on the lips, either, but a hearty kiss that tasted richly of chocolate frosting.
"You look cold. Better go back inside." He poked her toward the door with the box edge, his gaze briefly moving downward. "You wearing underwear?"
"Of course!" Panties, anyway. She hadn't put on a bra.
"Damn. I was getting excited, thinking you didn't have on anything under that shirt." He eyed the shirt. "Isn't that one mine?"
"Not while I'm wearing it." She peered inside the box. "Where's the chocolate donut? I tasted it when I kissed you."
The look he gave her was a mixture of exasperation and a guilty dismay. "There was only one chocolate donut, and I ate it. I thought you'd like the custard one better."
"Hmph. Shows what you know about women." Custard was all right, just not chocolate. Snatching up the donut, she said around a mouthful, "A pinecone would taste good now, I'm so hungry."
Oh, yes, the best way to handle morning-after jitters was to talk about food or the weather. Or, better yet, just stuff her mouth so she didn't have to talk at all.
Should she touch him? Kiss him?
Sex could be such a neurotic activity – how the species managed to survive, she didn't know.
"Want your coffee?" he asked when they were in the kitchen, standing at opposite ends. He was watching her, holding out the white Styrofoam cup, and it looked like he was trying to coax a skittish animal out of the corner with a tidbit of food.
Disgusted with herself – why on earth was she acting like she'd never slept with a man before? – Lili walked to him and took the coffee from his hand. After the cloying sweetness of the custard, the bitter coffee tasted good.
"Are you all right?" Matt asked.
Lili forced herself to meet his watchful gaze. "Yes. A little … unsure, maybe."
He didn't look away. "Unsure of what?"
Realizing how he might misunderstand her vagueness, she said hastily, "Oh, the usual stuff … wondering if you still respect me in the morning." She smiled hesitantly at her joke, then said with more seriousness, "Wondering if I lived up to your expectations."
Matt took a long, slow sip of his coffee, his gaze speculative. "And what did you think I was expecting?"
"That was supposed to be a yes or no answer, Matt."
He took another sip of coffee. "Answer my question."
She blew out a breath in exasperation. "I don't know! Somebody more adventurous, more sexy. More rough and tough—"
"What is it with you and being 'tough'?" he interrupted. "And why don't you think you're attractive and sexy? Christ, Lili, the first thought that popped into my head when I met you was 'sex.' In red capital letters."
"Really?"
He'd certainly done a good job of hiding it.
"Yes," he retorted, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I can tell you, I wasn't at all happy about it. I damn near turned around and walked right back out that door."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because you looked scared … I wanted to help, is all."
Suddenly guilty, she said, "And I was so mean to you that first day."
"I understood what was going on with you. I know it bothers you, being afraid of what's happening here, but … ah, hell," he muttered. "What I'm trying to say is that we're all afraid of something, Lili. It's nothing to be ashamed about."
She moved closer to him, drawn by his heat, and absurdly happy when he slipped his arms around her. "Even you?"
"Even me."
"What are you afraid of, Matt?"
He looked down at her for a long moment, and finally said, "Failing."
Lili met his gaze, not really surprised by his answer. "It's funny, the things we're afraid of," she murmured. "Failure's never bothered me. I fail a lot. Fall flat on my face, sometimes."
She tipped her head to one side, trying to read his reaction. "I've had designs that I've loved, that I put my heart and soul into, and they've just tanked. I had a string of flops a few years ago, and it was so bad that I seriously considered giving up and getting a job as a cattle herder or something."
He laughed, the chest beneath her cheek shaking.
"But then I'd eat some chocolate and cheesecake, spend a few hours feeling sorry for myself, and get right back to work the next day." She looked up, seeing the suddenly serious look on his face.
"Failing isn't that bad. Sometimes it's good for you. Keeps you humble." She tried a smile, but he didn't smile back. "It would be worse, I think, to not try, even if you know there's a chance you might fail."
"So," he said softly. "If I don't take a chance and kiss you now, I might not find out what it's like to make love to you in the morning."
"You're changing the subject," she said, as his fingers moved down the shirt, deftly unbuttoning it. "You do that a lot, whenever I get too personal."
It angered her a little, even though she knew he was guarded by nature, as well by the nature of his work.
"I'm getting personal right now." Matt kissed her, sliding his hands beneath the open shirt, and resting them lightly below her breasts. "I'd like to get even mor
e personal, if you'd let me."
Matt kissed her again, cupping her bare breasts, and all her misgivings, all her frustrations, fractured and scattered.
Somehow he ended up on one of the kitchen chairs, and she was sitting on his lap, her shirt unbuttoned, her panties on the floor. She managed to work his jeans and underwear down to his ankles, all while locked in a hot, wet kiss. There was an awkward moment – spiced by his curses and her low laugh – as he struggled to slide the condom on with her help. The moment he'd finished and she had warm, bare skin beneath her hands, Lili lowered herself, letting out a long, shaky breath as he pushed inside her.
She kissed him again, hungry for the taste of him. He held onto her hips tightly, urging her to move as he arched his hips against her. After several seconds she matched his rhythm, and the pleasure caught like the sudden striking of a match … a languorous glow, then a hot, sudden flare.
Her bare breasts rubbed against the soft flannel of his shirt, the pleasure almost painful, and he slanted his mouth against hers demandingly, his tongue stroking hers.
She moved against him, and the feel of him touching her deep inside drove her rapidly to climax. The chair bumped against the table, and she never broke the kiss – wanting to be body to body, skin to skin, sharing the same breath, when he came.
An instant later, Matt made a low moan deep in his throat. His fingers tightened on her hips and he rammed his hips upward, going rigid, tremors shaking his muscles.
It was all Lili needed to join him, and the orgasm, short and intense, left her clinging to him, panting and hot, the fading pleasure pulsing through her.
God … even plain vanilla sex with Matt was wonderful.
After a short silence, Matt tipped his head back over the chair and said, "We need to go to the store and buy food. Christ, I'm hungry."
"Woman doth not live on sex alone."
He laughed and kissed her quickly. "Or cheese curls and donuts. I need to call Monica, too."
"Ah, yes. Monica."
Matt eyed her with a hint of humor. "Considering what we just did, don't tell me you're jealous of her."
"I'm not jealous of her, precisely," Lili retorted. How awkward, discussing another woman, with her bare bottom resting on his lap. "Just her relationship with you. Did she tie you to the bed, Matt?"
HER BODYGUARD Page 21
