So Jake was there. Why didn’t he give his son his bath? Probably didn’t want to get all wet. Sissy. He knew Sierra had said she and Jake were friends, but in his opinion Jake had to be a jerk. No sane man would divorce Sierra. The guy had to have more than a couple screws loose, but Matt was eternally grateful to him for setting Sierra free.
“Hi, Jake. So how’s Austin behaving? Having any problems?” Sierra flashed Matt a killer smile. “Of course he wanted two slices of cake—he’s four, Jake.
“I know it’s hard to say no, but if you would have given in, he would have been up all night with a tummy ache.” She chuckled. “Meaning you would have been up all night too.”
Sierra’s smile grew. “Yes, I have plans for the next several days.”
His foot pressed the accelerator a little harder. By the tone of her voice, there was no doubt what those plans were.
“Of course I’m behaving. When have you known me not to?” Sierra laughed. “That didn’t count.”
Okay, he was not going to ask, no matter how much it bugged him. Sierra had been married, and she was a mother, for goodness’ sake. Austin hadn’t appeared under a cabbage leaf.
“Yes, you can reach me anytime, day or night. I always have my phone on. Bye.”
Sierra clicked the phone closed. “Austin’s fine.”
“So I heard.” Jake sounded fine too. Where was this streak of jealousy coming from? He shook his head as he turned onto his street. “You won’t mind waiting for me while I clean up?”
“I won’t mind.” Sierra looked off into the night. “It’s so peaceful here. I like that.”
“I wouldn’t live anywhere else.” He turned in to his parking lot. “If you think it’s quiet now, you should see the winter months. There’s nothing quite like it.”
“I can imagine.” Sierra unfastened her seat belt and opened the door.
Matt met her at the front of the truck and took her hand. “Be careful on the steps. I forgot to leave the light on.”
Sierra’s hand felt small and soft within his. “Well, if I fall”—her hand squeezed his—“I’m taking you with me.”
He held tighter. “There’s no way I’m letting you go.” He wasn’t just talking about climbing the stairs either. He wanted Sierra in Misty Harbor. Somehow. Some way.
He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “You’ll have to excuse the mess. I usually don’t have company.”
Sierra glanced around the kitchen. “Is that what I am, company?”
Matt closed the door and backed her up against it. The tip of his finger traced a smudge of white paint on her cheek. “You’re more than company. Much more.”
Sierra’s eyes darkened to a deep gray with a touch of green. They were the same color as the sea during a storm. “I’m glad.” Sierra turned her head and captured his fingertip with her lips.
He groaned as he watched her lips close around his finger. He’d never seen a more erotic sight. The tip of her tongue lightly stroked his skin before she released him.
Sierra’s eyes reminded him of the sea, but there was a fire burning in them. A fire that matched his own. “Matt, I want you.”
A shudder racked his body. If he kissed her now, they would never make it out of his kitchen. He didn’t want to make love to Sierra smelling of paint and sawdust. He wanted it perfect. She deserved for it to be perfect. With a step back he gained his control. “Can you keep that thought for five minutes?”
A small chuckle escaped her tempting lips as Sierra glanced down at herself. “I think we might have to wait more than five minutes.”
Matt took another few steps back and dug deep for some more control. “I’ll hurry.” He could do this. He was thirty years old. He sprinted for the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he ran.
Sierra watched as Matt disappeared into his bedroom. The tempting display of his bare back was enough to make her drool. Saints have mercy! All those muscles she had been thinking about were real. Here she stood with her tongue hanging out of her mouth while the man whose bones she wanted to pounce on was getting naked in the next room.
A refined lady would sit her butt in a kitchen chair, demurely cross her legs, and wait until Matt was ready to do the ravaging. She glanced at the paint smear on her forearm and decided she wasn’t a refined lady tonight. She didn’t want to wait. And whoever said that men had to do all the ravaging?
She heard the shower start as she locked the front door and headed for his bedroom. Matt had a thing for the color brown. The living room had beige carpeting, a brown leather couch and chair, and wood tables. The huge television was the main focus of the room, but there were crowded bookshelves on either side of it.
His bedroom was just as colorless. The room had beige carpeting and a dark rustic bedroom set that would have been more at home in a cabin in the woods than an apartment on the coast. A huge framed photo of a moose was above the bed. She frowned at the picture and wondered who had been crazy enough to get that close to the animal. The moose wasn’t smiling.
She dropped her tote on the unmade bed. The tan sheets were rumpled, the brown plaid comforter was kicked to the bottom of the bed, and a pillow was on the floor. Either Matt was a slob, or he had spent the same restless time in bed last night as she had. Before she lost her nerve, she kicked off her sneakers and started to undress.
Two minutes later she pulled back the shower curtain and joined Matt in the shower. By Matt’s startled expression she wasn’t sure if she’d just committed a major faux pas. “Need any help washing your back?”
His wicked smile eliminated her fear. Shampoo was running down the side of Matt’s face and he was semi-aroused. His gaze was skimming every inch of her body. “Only if I can return the favor.”
Matt’s voice was deep, unsteady, and threaded with a roughness that caused her nipples to harden. Or maybe that was the heat of his gaze. “It’s been awhile since anyone has washed my back.” She hoped Matt would get her meaning and know she didn’t make a habit of joining men in the shower. They hadn’t known each other for three weeks, and here she was standing before him naked and willing.
Matt’s gaze softened as he pulled her under the warm water with him. “I figured that one out a long time ago.” He ducked his head back under the spray and rinsed the rest of the shampoo out of his hair.
When he was done, she went under the water and soaked her hair. She hadn’t bothered to look into a mirror, but she knew there was paint in it. “Could I use your shampoo?”
“Sure.” Matt put a bottle into her hand and started to wash himself. “I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to, but it will get the paint out.”
She closed her eyes and lathered it up. “Thanks.” A moment later she was rinsing the suds from her hair when she felt Matt’s work-roughened hands start to rub her back. She leaned into his hands.
When she thought all the suds were rinsed from her hair she turned to face him. There was nothing “semi” about his arousal now. It was strong and thick, and nudging her stomach. She smiled as Matt’s hands never missed a stroke.
“You wear an awfully small bathing suit.” Matt’s voice was a low growl as his hands cupped her breasts.
She swiped at some bubbles that were on her belly and smeared them onto his chest. Dark hair teased her fingertips. “You work outside without your shirt a lot.” His chest was as tan as his arms and face.
“Sierra,” Matt’s voice broke, “you’re killing me here.”
“No, I’m not.” She backed up under the spray and smiled as the bubbles slid down her body and into the drain. She tugged him closer. “I still have paint on my arms.” The areas Matt had been soaping had never had paint on to begin with. She took the soap out of Matt’s hands and started to scrub her face and arms. Hopefully she would get most if not all of the white paint off. Making love to Matt while looking like a reject from the Ringling Bros. circus wasn’t what she had in mind.
She had just finished rinsing the suds from her arms whe
n Matt grabbed the bar of soap and put it in the dish. “That’s it. You’re clean enough.” He turned off the water and pushed open the shower curtain and grabbed for a towel.
She chuckled as she reached for the other towel. “Is ‘you’re clean enough’ considered foreplay?” She bent over and wrapped the towel around her soaking-wet hair.
A shrill yell escaped her as Matt lightly smacked her on the bottom and then threw her over his damp shoulder. “I’ll show you foreplay.”
Her hair was still wrapped in the towel, but the rest of her was still wet. “Matthew Porter, if you throw me onto that bed wet, I’m not sleeping in it.” She tried to sound stern and not giggle. There was no way in hell she would be spending an entire night in a damp bed.
Matt grabbed another towel off a shelf on his way out of the bathroom. He lowered her to her feet next to the bed and started to slowly, and quite thoroughly, dry every inch of her skin.
She grabbed his shoulder with her hand as the soft towel caressed her inner thigh for the third time. “I think you dried that part”—her voice hitched when the towel disappeared and warm fingers took its place—“already.”
Matt’s mouth replaced his fingers. “You still seem to be wet there.”
Her eyes crossed and her knees buckled as his towel stroked higher. “Okay, enough of the foreplay, Matt.” She fell back onto the bed. She was about to climax, and they hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet.
Matt chuckled as he stood up and slowly unwrapped the towel around his waist. “Lord, you are beautiful.”
Her gaze skimmed his chest and rested on his penis. His desire for her was obvious. It was at full attention and quivering with need. “You’re, ummm . . .” handsome wasn’t the word she was looking for.
“I’m what?” Matt looked down and rolled his eyes. “Desperate? Horny?”
She shook her head. “Those aren’t the adjectives going through my mind.”
“Aroused? Easy?”
Sierra scooted back farther onto the bed, kicking the comforter and her tote bag onto the floor. “I was thinking more along the lines of, big.”
Matt burst out laughing as he joined her on the bed. “Is it any wonder that I’m falling in love with you?”
She gazed into his eyes. Matt was serious. No candlelight dinners, no champagne, and no red roses. Straight-up and honest, he meant every word he was saying. She reached up and cupped his jaw. “Oh, Matt.” There was so much she needed to tell him, but this wasn’t the time or the place. She needed answers first.
“You don’t have to say anything, Sierra.” Matt turned his head and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “This is enough”—his lips slid to her wrist—“for now.”
“You’re special, Matt.” She pulled her hand away from his mouth and placed it around his neck. “What we have here, right now, right here, is very special. I don’t want to lose that, Matt.”
“We won’t.” Matt’s thumb grazed her lower lip.
“It’s complicated, Matt. Oh, so very complicated. There are things you don’t know about.” She didn’t want to lie, but if she spoke the truth they wouldn’t have these few days together.
Matt’s gaze burned into hers. “Is there someone else?”
“No.” She gave him a slow smile. “Unless you mean Austin.”
Matt shook his head and relaxed. “Then we have time to work it out, Sierra.” He leaned down and kissed her.
The heat of his mouth burned away the concerns plaguing her mind. There was only here and now. There was only Matt.
Chapter Thirteen
Sierra woke to the sensation of Matt’s mouth trailing its way down her spine. The man was insatiable. She smiled into the pillow.
“I know you’re awake.” Matt blew on a spot his tongue had just caressed.
She shivered. “How do you know?” she muttered into the cotton pillowcase. As far as she knew she hadn’t moved a muscle or made a sound. She wasn’t too sure her body could move after last night. Matt Porter was a thorough lover. He had not only found her G-spot, but her H-spot, I-spot, J-spot, and every other letter of the alphabet.
“You groaned when I did this.” Matt’s fingers traced the tan line her very tiny bathing suit bottom had left behind.
She felt her groan vibrate in her throat and tried to suppress it. She wiggled her bottom in an attempt to get his hands off it. “Stop that.” She didn’t have the energy to swat him. Matt had awakened her in the middle of the night for round two.
Or maybe it had been she who had awakened him. Either way, instead of falling asleep after spending nearly an hour making slow, sweet love, Matt had been energized and hungry. For the first time in her life she’d had milk and cookies in bed. There were now chocolate chip cookie crumbs everywhere.
Matt’s hands held her hips still. “Wiggling that sweet ass of yours is not the way to get me to stop.” Matt chuckled as his tongue swept up a crumb from the back of her thigh. “How many calories are there in a serving of Sierra?” Matt playfully teased the sensitive area on the back of her knee with his mouth.
“Are you always this cheerful in the morning?” Without raising her head, she grabbed the pillow he had used last night and threw it at him.
He chuckled as he dodged the pillow. “I was going to wake you up to go see the sunrise out at the lighthouse with me, but you looked like an angel sleeping in my bed.” One of Matt’s hands was spread across the small of her back, holding her in place while his warm, searching lips traveled up the back of her thigh.
“Matt, what are you doing?” Her eyes crossed when his tongue outlined the curve of her bottom.
“Searching for more crumbs.” Matt took a teasing nip of flesh.
“Matt!” She tried to roll over, but Matt’s hand kept her in place. At five feet ten inches, she wasn’t a little woman to hold down so easily.
Matt laughed. “If I have to tell you what I’m doing, Sierra, I’m doing it all wrong.” He removed his hand from the small of her back.
Sierra rolled onto her back and smiled at him. Matt’s hair was all rumpled from sleep, but there was nothing sleepy about his light blue eyes. They burned with a fire all their own. The light sprinkling of hair scattered across his chest made her want to sink her fingers into it once again. She ran the sole of her foot up the back of his thigh. With Matt’s height, he was almost halfway off the bed. “You weren’t doing it wrong. You’re just too far away.”
Matt scooted up onto the bed, directly on top of her. His elbows took most of his weight. “Better?” Matt’s mouth skimmed her chin and teased her lower lip.
She wiggled her hips as Matt nestled deeper between her thighs. She could feel the head of his erection against her opening. “Tell me you have a condom on.”
Matt’s lips nibbled their way down her throat and across her collarbone. “It’s been on for the last ten minutes.” With one hand he cupped a breast and gently sucked her hardened nipple into his mouth.
Sierra wrapped her legs around his thighs and urged him deeper.
Matt’s tongue bathed her nipple as he slowly entered her about an inch.
She arched her hips and tried to take more of him. Matt wasn’t cooperating. “More, Matt.” She was so close to the edge. Her hands stroked down his back until they cupped his hard, tight ass. She tugged him closer as her stomach clenched and her breath hitched in anticipation. The edge was falling away.
Matt gently bit her nipple.
She screamed as Matt plunged and the orgasm that had been building erupted.
Matt shouted something against her breast as he joined her in a release that had him shaking.
Sierra stood in the late afternoon sun and tuned the real estate agent’s voice out. Mr. Biggs was full not only of himself, but hot air too. She had christened him Mr. Bigshot two properties ago. As any good Realtor would do, he had saved the best for last.
Over one hundred acres of prime real estate right on the coast of Maine. The view was fantastic, even though it wasn’t
of the Atlantic Ocean. It was Frenchman’s Bay, and way off in the distance, on the other side of the bay, was the town of Bar Harbor. The property was situated along Route 186 between West Gouldsboro and South Gouldsboro.
“As you can see, there’s easy access to the bay,” Mr. Bigshot went on. And on. And on about the stupid, plain-as-the-nose-on-his-face characteristics of the land.
Yes, she’d figured they were mature pine trees by their sheer size. Oh, there were fish and other wildlife in the bay—amazing. Seals too—imagine that. If Mr. Bigshot pointed at the setting sun and told her that way was west, she was giving him a mighty shove and watching him roll down the hill into the bay.
He probably would tell her it was wet.
“If you continue down Route 186, there is the town of Winter Harbor. It has a Navy base, but I understand that it will be closing soon.”
Cliffside Manor, the restaurant Matt had taken her to, had been right outside of Winter Harbor. “Where are the nearest golf courses?” Her father and Jake both loved golf. With this amount of land, they could build an eighteen-hole course right on the coast of Maine. Talk about a perk.
“Oh, you play? There’s one in Winter Harbor, but it’s only a nine-hole course.”
“Occasionally.” She’d learned and perfected her game at an early age because she’d figured out if she wanted to spend time with Daddy, she had to do it on his schedule. She had eaten more meals at clubhouses than at home. “Any others?”
“There’s a couple of really fancy ones on Mount Desert Island. There’s Kebo Valley Golf Club, right outside of Bar Harbor. I think there’s also one in Northeast Harbor and another in Southwest Harbor.”
“That’s nice.” It was always nice to size up possible competition. She had her homework cut out for her if she was going to impress her father and Jake. She looked out over the bay and saw a couple boats. Not much water traffic at all. “What about boats?”
“What about them?”
“Would I be allowed to put in a dock?”
“I don’t see why not. What size boat do you own?”
A Misty Harbor Wedding Page 20
