Читать книгу Valentine's Fantasy: When Valentines Collide / To Love Again - Adrianne Byrd, Pamela Yaye - Страница 14

Chapter 7

After a half bottle of Jack Daniels, Matthew dreamed of his wife’s creamy thighs, firm breasts and perfect apple bottom. He tossed and turned and even smacked his lips while remembering her distinctive taste. The wanting, aching and longing had stripped him of his sanity.

No matter how many times he tried to think or concentrate on something else, Chanté’s teasing body would crystallize in his mind. If he thought about work, Chanté would materialize as a naked cue-card girl. When writing material for his next book, Chanté would be the naked girl on his Internet pop-up, asking him if he wanted to see her in action.

It was maddening...and a complete turn-on.

In need of relief, Matthew grabbed hold of his erection and tried to assuage the ache. Even at this desperate hour, his hand was a lousy substitute.

You could always go back and knock on the door again.

Matthew’s hand stilled. The thought had possibilities. But then he remembered how Chanté had turned him down the other night and how she closed the door in his face tonight. How many times could he face her rejection?

Knock. Knock.

Matthew remained frozen in the bed with his erection still throbbing in his hand.

Knock. Knock.

Buddy barked from his crate.

“Yes?” he asked sluggishly.

Instead of an answer, he listened as the doorknob turned and the heavy door creaked open. Pushing himself up, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect—an intruder, his wife, or an intruder impersonating his wife.

He waited until the curvaceous figure illuminated under the silvery moonlight. Even then he wasn’t sure he believed what he was seeing or if his old buddy Jack now had him hallucinating.

“Chanté?”

She glided toward the bed and pressed a slender finger against his lips. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to catch her meaning—and he was only too willing to oblige.

Damn it, it’s been five months.

Wait, his brain screamed. Something wasn’t right. Matt eyed her suspiciously. “Is this a trick?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Just gave him a slight shake of her head.

Matthew weighed whether to believe her. Then again, if this was a hallucination, what harm was there in having a little fun?

A bright smile bloomed across Matthew’s face and glowed in the moonlight. “Hey, baby. You finally decided to come pay Big Daddy a visit?”

Chanté frowned. “Have you been drinking?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. There’s no law against a man drinking in the privacy of his own home, is there?”

“Never mind. This was a mistake.” She turned.

Matthew hopped out of bed and clutched her arm. “Don’t go, baby. You know we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time,” he slurred.

She hesitated, giving Matthew all the confirmation he needed.

“Why don’t you give me a big, fat juicy kiss to seal the deal?”

Eager, both Chanté and Matthew leaned forward, only to bang their foreheads together.

“Ouch.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” Matt fluttered a nervous smile before trying again. This time, their lips connected and their bodies sagged with relief.

However, when Matt leaned her back onto the bed, he’d forgotten about his laptop and piles of paper occupying the other side.

“Ow, ouch.” Chanté shoved him off.

“Oh, just a minute.” Matt pitched everything, including the laptop, over the side of the bed. “See? All gone.” He flashed another toothy smile and clumsily reached for her again.

Buddy barked.

“Shh. Buddy, be quiet,” Matthew warned. “You’ll scare my dream girl away.”

Chanté hesitated.

“Don’t worry, no more surprises,” he assured, patting the empty bed for emphasis.

After another beat of hesitation, Chanté decided to give it another try. She glided effortlessly into his arms and imagined herself cast into her own romance novel. But everything didn’t play out quite the way she’d hope.

Matthew grabbed for her like a starved man before an all-you-can-eat buffet. He fumbled and cursed while he tried to pry her out of her lingerie.

“Here, let me do it,” she offered before he had a chance to destroy one more thing of hers. Three snaps later, she chiseled on another smile and then lay back on the bed in all her naked glory.

That was when the real pawing began.

Matt’s once tender and caressing hands were now rough and forceful. Lips that once gave loving worship to her sensitive nipples now seemed determined to chew the damn things off.

“Easy. Easy,” she coached, wanting him to slow down and enjoy the ride. Instead, her husband skipped foreplay and went straight for the main attraction.

He entered with one mighty thrust and nearly split her in two.

What the hell?

Chanté gripped his bulging biceps and tried to hold on during the ride. However, she was nearly rendered senseless several times as her head was rammed into the headboard. Meanwhile, Buddy continued to bark his head off. This was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

“Shh, Buddy. Shh, Buddy,” Matthew hissed in between his “Oh, Gods.” His hips hammered away while his eyes damn near rolled to the back of his head.

Chanté watched in resolute boredom until Matthew stiffened with one last thrust, and then collapsed in a sweaty heap.

Is that it?

“Oh, baby. I missed you so much.” Matthew panted and peppered sloppy kisses across her face and eyes.

“Uhm.” She searched for the right words. “Matt?”

“Hmm?”

“I, uh, didn’t...well, you know.”

Matt lifted his head and stared down at her. “You didn’t?”

Chanté shook her head. Not even close.

“I, uh, I’m so—well, I guess, I did get a little carried away. It being a while and all.” He absently wiped the sweat from his brow.

She nodded in feigned understanding. “That’s all right. You can try again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiled and wiggled his hips.

To Chanté’s dismay, she noted Matt Jr. wasn’t exactly standing at full salute.

“Just give me a minute to...catch my breath,” Matthew panted.

Chanté’s brows furrowed, but she had no choice but to bob her head in agreement and wait for her husband to catch his second wind.

Two minutes later, Matthew was fast asleep.

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Seth decided it was time he dusted off his culinary skills to make his wife breakfast in bed. Unfortunately, his specialty was cold cereal.

“Oh, honey.” Edie smiled brightly when he appeared at their bedroom doorway with her breakfast tray in hand. “You shouldn’t have.”

Seth beamed proudly as if he’d prepared a five-course meal. “My baby deserves the best.”

“Special K, huh?”

“Special K with strawberries.”

“Then bring it on!” Edie set aside the pamphlets in her lap and punched up her pillows before her husband delivered her meal.

“What are these?” he asked, picking up one of the pamphlets.

“Some brochures I picked up yesterday before my talk with Chanté.”

Seth frowned as he opened one and then another. “Sex therapy? I thought the idea was to get them to see a real counselor?”

“They’re real.” Edie snatched one of the brochures back. “I’ve heard some great things about these places.”

“Where? On one of those women’s talk shows?”

Edie poked out her bottom lip as she shrugged her shoulders. “What if I did? A reference is a reference.”

“Okay, this job just went from difficult to impossible.” Seth laughed. “Sex isn’t the problem. Their ability to stay away from sharp objects is.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, scooping out her first spoonful of cereal.

“No,” he acquiesced. “It’s not the sort of thing we talk about.”

“Well, what do you talk about?”

“His lack of sex. Five months and counting.” Seth shook his head with great sympathy. “I don’t care what anyone says, that’s cruel and unusual punishment. No wonder he’s demolishing cars.”

“I hear you.” She chomped away for a moment while her gaze returned to the pamphlets.

“Actually, I really think I’m on to something here. Last week when Chanté stormed over here about the Letterman incident, she said that Matthew used to be great in bed.”

“What the hell? Do you two give each other blow-by-blow recaps?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still a ten in my book.”

Seth straightened his shoulders as his chest swelled from the compliment. “Ten is easy when I have an eleven in my arms.”

For that, he was rewarded with a kiss.

“So you think this sex therapy will work?”

“It certainly can’t hurt.”

“Not unless there’s a chainsaw on the premises.”

Edie chuckled.

“Any idea how we’re going to get them to one of these places?” Seth asked.

“Yes. We lie.”