Читать книгу Untamed Bachelors - Susan Stephens - Страница 16

STAYING the night. In Matt’s house. Just her and him and…Ellie’s pulse leapt. And…? And if she wanted, she could let herself go for once and give in to this attraction.

One night with Matt McGregor.

She steeled herself to hold his gaze and that now-familiar current of energy arced across the space between them, sparking flashes of anticipation along every nerve ending. ‘I’ll need to collect a few things on the way.’

His eyes twinkled with something like amusement. ‘I have a spare toothbrush.’

Her jaw firmed at the timely reminder. She just bet he did. Probably a whole box for all those unexpected female guests who slept over. She refused to let the doubt demons get to her. Tonight Ellie was going to be that guest, and tonight was all that mattered.

‘And an efficient underfloor heating system,’ he went on smoothly. ‘So you don’t need a thing.’

No, she didn’t imagine she did. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. ‘I hope the view’s worth it.’

His gaze flicked briefly to the cleavage she’d unwittingly created, then just as quickly back to her face. ‘Oh, it will be, I assure you.’

Her nipples tingled and tightened as heat spurted up her neck, bled into her cheeks. Were they talking about the same thing? She’d not participated in this kind of sexual innuendo in more than two years. Not since Heath…

‘Grab your jacket and I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes.’

She grabbed her backpack from the couch in the lounge room, her problems shoved to the back of her mind and a sense of anticipation rocketing through her as she slipped a cardigan over her sweater and dragged on her jacket before hurrying downstairs.

He’d changed and wore a black leather bomber jacket over his white T-shirt and jeans and was holding two helmets. The evening breeze slid through his spiked hair, giving it a reckless windswept edge. He looked more than a little bit dangerous.

Her heart skidded to a halt, then resumed at twice its speed. Beneath the canopy of inky sky with a whiff of motor oil in her nostrils and the throaty sound of the black-and-silver monster warming up beside him…well, it felt like some sort of illicit fantasy.

He must have transferred that recklessness to her. The spine-tingling prospect of freedom and being with Matt on that metallic beast as he whisked her away from reality…Just for tonight she wanted to forget everything and enjoy the ride—and it wasn’t only the bike she was thinking of.

As he settled the helmet on her head, helped her adjust it, she admitted, ‘I’ve never been game enough to ride on a motorbike.’

He climbed on, turned the key, patted the seat behind him. ‘It’s easy,’ he said over the noise. ‘Just hang on and let me do the rest.’

Still, perching herself behind him—

‘Closer,’ he ordered, voice muffled through the helmet as she wiggled into place. ‘Don’t be shy.’

Easy for you to say, your private parts aren’t touching mine. She did as he requested, scooting close. His body heat warmed her inner thighs through the double layer of denim, her hands slid around his waist and over the soft leather.

At first the ride jerked and twisted as they crossed the suburbs, stopping for traffic lights and accelerating away at what felt like breathtaking speed but probably wasn’t. But once they hit open road she relaxed, leaning into his sheltering body, revelling in the way the chill wind snuck under her visor and skimmed over her knees.

The cold was exhilarating, invigorating and a stunning contrast to his warmth all down the front of her body. The monotonous hum of the powerful machine vibrated through her bones, soothing her into a soporific state of well-being.

They stopped briefly near Geelong for hot coffee and cruised down Lorne’s main street soon after midnight. A moment later Matt extended one arm to the view at the top of a crest in the road where she saw white foam curling and crashing over worn rocks along the shoreline.

A short distance from the township Matt turned off the main road and followed a track through tall skinny eucalypts, coming to a stop in front of a sprawling dwelling cleverly camouflaged to blend with its surroundings. He parked beneath a wide verandah, switched off the ignition.

Ellie climbed off, removed her helmet. Salty air heavy with the fragrance of eucalyptus swept through her hair and filled her nostrils. After the noisy journey the sudden silence rang with the sounds of the bush. An animal scuttled through the undergrowth, the soft clack of higher branches as the wind buffeted treetops, all against the background sound of distant surf. A gibbous moon spangled the leaves with silver.

‘Here we are. Home sweet home.’

He produced a key and unlocked the front door, flipped a switch, illuminating dozens of downlights, giving the room a mellow ambience as she followed him in.

It had to be the most unique home she’d ever seen, all odd angles and glass and slabs of colour that blended with the natural environment outside. A ceiling that soared and dipped, invoking a feeling of space and movement. ‘No walls.’

‘Don’t need them.’

Her brows rose in surprise. ‘Not even the bathroom?’

He grinned. ‘The exception. Through here.’

Huge. With a spa big enough to need its own lifeguard, double shower, double vanity. It was another fantasy of glass, but private at the same time, and looked out onto a roomy columned courtyard of lush native flora accessed only through the bathroom.

‘Cyathea australis.’

‘If you say so.’ Matt grinned. ‘I prefer to call them tree ferns. It’s easier to say.’

‘You designed all this?’ she said, following him to the living space.

He nodded, removing his jacket, tossing it over a wide leather couch. ‘It’s flexible in that I can add modules to extend living space as required. This suits me fine as it is for now.’

Ellie stared at the expensive fittings, the flow of honeyed wooden flooring. ‘Not bad for a weekender.’

‘Not a weekender,’ he said. ‘It’s my home. I want you to see the view of the bay from upstairs.’ He led her up a shallow flight of floating steps to the mezzanine level. Her feet made no sound as she crossed the thick carpet. The huge irregular hexagonal window framed a spectacular view of Louttit Bay filmed with moon glow. Lorne’s lights twinkled through the trees. Possums partied on the roof, their bush sounds the only noise in the room’s silence.

‘Now isn’t that a sight for inspiration?’ He was standing close behind her, his voice rumbling softly at her ear.

‘Oh, yeah.’ His warmth spread across her back like a blanket. She placed a hand against the glass. So many contrasts. Heat and cold, the dark rise of the land against the moon-drenched water. Man-made in harmony with nature. And the man who’d built it all slid his hands loosely around her waist. Strength and tenderness. She didn’t need protecting, but it was there in the way he shielded her with his body.

His hands now on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. ‘Ellie.’ Her name had never sounded as beautiful as it did coming from his lips. And the sight of this gorgeous man before her was more inspiring than any view behind.

And more terrifying.

She’d sworn never again to allow a man to seduce her and here she was. Yet staring up at him she sensed no intended seduction as such. Just a burning desire. One he’d carefully banked. One she shared.

She didn’t need a man, yet in this moment, with the starlight reflecting in his eyes and the cool night radiating through the glass at her back, she wanted this man.

Neither did she need his support—unless it was the kind of support which would keep her upright on legs that were weakening with every beat of her pulse.

His hands slid over her shoulders, her arms, then inside her jacket, palms brushing the sides of her breasts, every fingertip sending sparks of excitement shooting to her feminine places.

What she needed…She needed his hands on more of her. On all of her. Her own hands trembled as they followed the hard contours of his chest through the soft jersey of his T-shirt. Up…until she felt his heart thud fast and heavy beneath her palm.

The fragrance of the cold night’s ride clung to his clothes, his skin. Leaning up on tiptoe, she breathed him in, right in the little hollow at the base of his neck. Dizzy with his scent, his proximity, she dropped her head on his chest.

Her whole body throbbed with heavy anticipation, yet she felt as light as air, as if the slightest puff would blow her away. Had she ever felt this way? She might have thought so once, but she couldn’t have—she’d have remembered something this intense.

Cupping her face in both hands, he tilted it towards him, and what a view she was treated to. A strong jaw etched in the moon’s silver glow, hair backlit with gold from the light filtering up from downstairs, lips that no artist could do justice to, eyes as dark as midnight. Eyes that could make a girl forget how to breathe, let alone her well-rehearsed lessons in self-preservation.

He whisked a thumb over her lips, just once. ‘What do you want, Ellie?’

Be careful what you wish for. The little warning voice she’d learned to listen to and followed religiously dulled to a whisper, then faded completely.

One night. Her choice. Her decision.

Stepping out of his arms, she shrugged out of her jacket, let it fall to the floor. ‘You. Here. Now.’

If it were possible, his eyes darkened further, but he didn’t move except to let his arms drop to his sides. ‘Are you sure? Because I don’t know if I can stop if—’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she snapped out, unbuttoning her cardigan. She had no illusions about Matt where relationships were concerned, but now she’d made her decision she wanted to get on with it. ‘One night.’ She lifted her chin, every cell in her body jangling. ‘That’s the way you play the game, isn’t it? One night at a time?’

He hesitated, the acknowledgement written on his face as he rocked back on his heels. ‘But I’m not sure it’s the way you do.’

No, it wasn’t, but the other way hadn’t worked for her in the past so perhaps it was time she tried something different. Knowing it all up-front meant no expectations, no disappointments and, most important of all, no broken heart. Without breaking eye contact she slipped off her cardigan. ‘Wasn’t it you who suggested the other day that we do something about this…tension between us? Get it out of the way?’

‘Yes, but after what happened, you might—’

‘I’m calling you on it now. I want to forget this afternoon.’ Still watching him, she toed off her sneakers, peeled off her socks. Her toes curled into the warm carpet. ‘I feel like I’m about to explode. I still have all this pent-up angry energy I need to get rid—’

Matt cut her off with a hard-mouthed kiss that echoed the wildness he sensed within her, barely glimpsing her surprised eyes as he dragged her against him and answered her request.

She didn’t miss a beat, meeting him with the same force, the same heat, the same passion. Her hands shot upward, clutching fistfuls of his T-shirt, lush lips parting beneath his, tongues touching, tangling, thrusting in a tantalising prelude to what he wanted to do with her. To her. In her.

The hot potent flavour of her residual anger flowed over his tastebuds like dark chilli chocolate as he searched out all the hidden recesses in her mouth while his hands explored the firm flesh beneath her skinny T-shirt. Curves he’d not expected, dips he’d never seen, made all the more enticing by his long-endured anticipation—a neat little bellybutton, the indentation he discovered at the base of her spine when he slid a hand below the waistband of her jeans.

Breaking the kiss, he lifted his head, watched the same anticipation colour her eyes that deep dark amethyst he found so fascinating. Skimming his palms up her sides and taking her T-shirt along the way, he dragged it off, tossed it over his shoulder, leaving only her locket winking erotically above her cleavage.

A glimpse of white lace bra before he yanked it down to her waist so he could bury his face in the smooth fragrant valley between her luscious breasts, cupping their weight, then massaging them so that her nipples beaded tightly against the centre of his palms.

Her low keening moan triggered a thousand impatient needs, a thousand desperate desires. Dazed and driven by his own impatience to get naked right along with her, he dragged his T-shirt over his head. ‘Jeans off, now.’

He watched her shimmy out of her jeans and a pair of cute white knickers with hearts on while he discarded his boots, then shoved down his own.

Like a man dying of starvation, his eyes devoured her body, shimmering in the room’s soft glow. Shadows and light. Exquisite. Perfection.

Where have you been all my life?

The question hovered on the edge of his mind, unsettling him momentarily. He dragged his gaze back to her face, reminding himself she was here now, his to enjoy, his to pleasure. Reminding himself that he didn’t measure his relationships by time, but by mutual satisfaction and respect.

So why did he hesitate to touch? Why did his hand shake when he reached out to trace a line down her body, from cheek to collarbone and over her left breast where he stopped to feel her heart thud in time with his?

Her eyes were taking their own erotic journey—he could almost feel the caress—a hot silk glove stroking his erection to almost unbearable hardness.

‘Don’t stop now,’ she demanded.

He looked down at himself, choked out a half-laugh, then met her eyes once more. ‘Do I look like I want to stop?’

‘No…’ Her eyes sparked with arousal.

His eyes remained on hers as he reached for her hands, drew her against him. And in that first glorious instant when her body melted against his, warm and willing and all woman, his toes curled off the carpet and he shuddered to the soles of his feet. When she gasped and plucked at his shoulders, he answered with a groan that seemed to come from the depths of his being.

Desire clashed with passion, impatience with hunger. His mouth fused with hers. Bodies bumping, legs tangling, he manoeuvred them both backwards and collapsed onto the bed, Ellie sprawled over him.

He twisted so that she lay beneath him, plundering her mouth while his hands raced over her. She writhed against him, her small deft fingers scraping over his neck, his shoulders, the base of his spine. Her warm fragrance teased his nostrils; her breathing was fast and shallow.

Impatience tore at him. He couldn’t get enough. Enough of her scent, her moans, her taste. The room’s cool air mingled with the warm scent of arousal, muted light spilled over them like gold dust and her skin glowed like fire.

The primitive race to finish what they’d begun beat like a jungle drum through his blood, vanquishing any semblance of his customary urbane finesse.

No time to linger, less to think. Pushing her legs apart with his thigh, he plunged his fingers into her wet heat…Protection.

The world they’d created ground to a halt.

On a groan of frustration, he withdrew his hand. ‘Condom,’ he mumbled when she whimpered in protest. He reared up, yanking open his bedside drawer and pulling out the necessary item.

Ellie bit her lip at the unavoidable delay, momentarily appalled that she’d not given it a thought. But before she could chastise herself, his hard body was stretched over hers once more, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

He drove inside her, one long swift glide that had her bucking to meet him and gasping his name. She lifted her eyes and his all-dark, all-seeing, all-powerful gaze met hers. And in that stunning singular instant of mutual connection she surrendered freely.

He withdrew, then plunged again, deeper, harder. Closer.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she let him set a rhythm and take her where he would. From the dark erotic realms of her most secret fantasies to the giddy heights of mindless pleasure. She’d never wanted the way she wanted Matt McGregor, never needed anything or anyone the way she needed him at this moment.

He bewildered her. He captivated her.

He lifted her on wings of wonder and sent her soaring. Muttering her name like an oath, he thrust one final time before spinning over the edge and joining her.

Ellie’s body still throbbed with the aftermath of great sex. Her skin still tingled; her breathing was still shallow. In the dimness, with only the moon’s glow casting an oblique path across the carpet, they lay close, but not touching. Not speaking. Her mind was overflowing with jumbled thoughts.

The space Matt had put between them was subtle, but not lost on Ellie. A reminder that what they’d shared was simple lust, nothing more. A diversion. Ride till you come to the end of the road.

They’d reached that point. She’d prepared for that, been ready for it. She’d even initiated it. Yet somewhere along that journey she’d lost a part of herself. To him. Had he noticed? She listened to his breathing become slow and regular as he drifted towards sleep. She hoped not. Good Lord, the last thing she needed was for him to think she expected more than what they’d shared. Sex. Good sex. Very good sex.

That was all.

She sighed into the silence, resisting the urge to curl up against him and reconnect in a physical if not sexual way. To her, intimacy was as important as the sex. But not for Matt.

She reminded herself again that she didn’t expect more. Problem was, she’d never used sex as a diversion for her problems. She didn’t know the etiquette for the morning after. Or the day after. Belle was due back Monday. Then Matt would leave and that would be it. The end. Finito.

And if that hurt and left her feeling empty and alone, she’d have no-one to blame but herself.

Matt stared up at the low-beamed ceiling, resisting the urge to scoop Ellie closer. Already his sex stirred to life. He wanted to tuck her bottom against him and take her from behind—slowly this time, while he—No. Deep slow breaths. He needed to clear the confusion of thoughts and feelings from his mind before he did.

He’d thought once he’d had her, this attraction between them would settle. He’d get on with his life, she with hers. Instead, his response had been…unnerving.

Hell, this whole impulsive idea to bring her here had been a one-off. He’d never brought a woman to his place. Not for sex, not for any reason. His bush home was his private refuge. Belle was the only woman he allowed to get close.

His thoughts shifted to Angela. She’d seemed to be everything he wanted in a woman. Sophisticated, bright and intelligent. Until she’d told him she wanted more than a no-strings relationship. She’d wanted marriage, the house in the ’burbs, the kids and the dog.

She’d wanted the promise of everlasting love.

His fists tightened against the mattress but he forced himself to remain still. He’d been unable to give it to her and he’d had to let her go when she told him she wouldn’t accept less.

What did Ellie want?

She turned towards him in sleep, shifting nearer. Too near. One arm slid over his chest and a breast snugged up against his torso. Intimacy and trust. His body tightened further. He closed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge it. Despite her assertion to the contrary, he had an edgy feeling Ellie wasn’t the kind of woman who’d be satisfied with a fling either. He’d allowed himself to get too close on an emotional level. Dangerously close.

It was a long time before he slept.