Читать книгу Expecting His Child - Tessa Radley - Страница 18
ОглавлениеMatt leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and reached for his third cup of coffee in two hours. Bright afternoon sun speared through the dark clouds outside and he winced, grabbing the remote to angle down the blinds.
As the shadows lengthened in his office, he relaxed a little. He’d been at GEM since eight and, amazingly, he’d managed to block out last night and focus on his schedule, completing his work in record time.
Until he paused and let his thoughts wander.
Lips...hair...soft sighs...
He swallowed his now-cold coffee, determinedly ignoring the way his body stirred. AJ was like a drug, seeping into his blood and arousing him to that point of almost painful ecstasy. Sure, they’d always been pretty explosive together but not like this. This was something more, something hotter, more intense.
Something deeper.
He shoved his cup across the desk. And now that he had the taste for her again, he wanted nothing more than to explore every new curve, kiss every inch of skin and bring her to climax over and over.
His phone rang, breaking off those dangerous thoughts, and he reached for it with a relieved sigh.
“Hello, darling.”
The familiar, oh-so-proper English voice washed over him. “Hi, Mum.” He stuck the phone in between his shoulder and ear and turned back to his computer. “What’s up?”
“Katrina tells me you’re off to Italy on Sunday.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.” Alicia Cooper ignored his irritation with practiced ease. “Could you call into Ferragamo and pick up a package for me?”
“More shoes?” He grinned, clicking on his computer screen then glancing over at his iPad as it synced.
“A woman can never have enough shoes,” she replied loftily.
As his chuckle petered out, she said, “Katrina also tells me she saw you last night.”
“Yeah.”
“With a redhead.”
His hand stilled on the mouse. “Yep,” he said cautiously.
“What happened to that other one...the dark-haired publishing assistant...Lilia, wasn’t it?”
“Nothing happened. We just went our separate ways.”
Matt ignored his mother’s silence, clicking the mouse and closing all the windows until only his schedule remained.
“What’s her name?” Alicia finally said.
Ah. There it was. “AJ.”
“Excuse me?”
“AJ. As in Angelina Jayne.” His computer trilled, indicating his office manager was updating his schedule. “Look, Mum, I’m a bit pushed for time, so...”
“What does she do?”
He swallowed a sigh. God spare him from his mother’s dogged determination to interfere in his life. Though Paige would tell him to give the woman a break. She’d lost one son already and Matt had chucked in a career she’d been heavily invested in since he was born. Maybe she just wanted to stay connected.
More like provide unwanted criticism.
“Well, Matthew?” she demanded now. “What does this woman do for a living?”
“She’s an artist.” The pause on the other end of the line told him so much, none of it good. “Look, Mum, I really have to go—”
“Fine,” she replied coolly. “Have a safe trip.” Yeah, she was pissed. Matt rubbed his forehead, smoothing out the frown lines.
“I will.”
He hung up, his good mood now laced with irritation. He glanced through his emails, forwarding a few, saving some, deleting the rest, before finally pushing away from the desk with a sigh.
This would not do. With a firm set to his jaw, he reached for his phone and dialed.
* * *
“Dinner again?” AJ glanced at the clock on the wall above the dining table—twelve-fifteen—then at a muted Dr. Phil on the massive TV screen. She stretched her legs, placing them carefully on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles, then leaned back into the couch. “You really don’t have to, you know.”
“Wear something for the water.”
“What, a bikini?”
“No.” She heard the amusement in his voice. “Something for an ocean breeze. I’ll send a car for you at five.”
She hung up and tossed her phone onto the couch cushion. Everything still pulsed from last night, a dull ache that had her staring at the ceiling with a goofy, self-satisfied grin.
He was wooing her. Why?
She rolled her neck, wincing as she felt the muscles pop and stretch. Because that’s what he did. Along with his passionate intensity, this attentive treatment was part of his charm. For all his faults, she had to admit being the sole focus of Matt’s attention when they were together was incredibly flattering, not to mention a massive ego boost.
Amazing he was still single, despite his breakneck work ethic.
She scrolled through her phone messages, answering Emily’s, deleting a couple of spam. “Maybe he likes being single,” she said aloud to the TV. Dr. Phil nodded sagely. “Maybe he’s just not interested in marriage.” No, that wasn’t right—what about Katrina? “Maybe she ruined it all for him.” Hmm. Yes, that sounded plausible. The woman looked as if she could give a guy ice burns in all sorts of awkward places.
“Or maybe...” She deleted a few more texts. “He’s just shut it all down.” Despite his declaration to the contrary, she’d seen his expression twist into a brief flash of grief and regret when he’d mentioned his brother. Her stomach clenched. Matthew Cooper with emotional baggage? That was a new one. He didn’t seem the type to regret anything; he simply plowed through life, single-minded in his focus. He was a man of science, of medicine. Of cold hard facts. The kind of driven, ambitious guy the movies and TV portrayed with eerie accuracy. Yet he was also a guy with hidden depths, who believed in something as ephemeral as fate.
Huh. So they did have one thing in common, besides the sex thing—past hurts equaled an avoidance of attachment.
She didn’t have a chance to think more on that because the very last text caught her attention.
Miss you. C U tonight?
Huh. Jesse had texted her at one-thirty last night. “Not a chance in hell,” she murmured as she typed in her reply.
No. I don’t date married guys.
She sent the text, then glanced back at the TV. Dr. Phil was talking to two teens and it was apparent they both had very different opinions about raising their child.
“Good ol’ Dr. Phil,” she said, swinging her legs to the carpet. “Where were you when my parental unit needed your sensible advice? Not that she would’ve taken it, mind you.”
Her phone pinged.
2morrow then?
Ass. She scowled at the Android smiley, but the little green face merely grinned back at her.
Only if Nirvana get back together.
Resisting the urge to hurl her phone to the table—not good, considering it was made of glass—she instead gently placed it on the edge and stood. Jesse James Danson. Oh, how he’d loved playing up his outlaw persona, charming her with his wit and boyish smile one afternoon at her stall. And she’d been sucked in all right, recklessly promising to hand deliver her painting to what turned out to be his single guy apartment in Mermaid Beach. Her delivery had turned into coffee, then a week or two of phone tag, then suggestive texts, then finally, a month later, he’d coaxed her into bed.
She grabbed her phone and turned off the ringer for good measure. She wouldn’t give that guy any more of her time. She had a date to get ready for.
* * *
The sleek white Commodore arrived dead on five, pulling up in front of the apartment as afternoon light bled into early evening. The uniformed driver got out and opened her door with a smile.
“How are you this evening, ma’am?”
“I’m good.” She smiled and slid into the soft bucket seat, her stomach somewhere in the region of her throat. Nerves again? After last night? How could that be? Yet the butterflies, the absent tapping of her toe, the familiar song under her breath all pointed to one thing.
She buckled up as the driver got in and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “To the Quay, is it?”
“I think so. Sorry, what’s your name?”
“It’s Kim, ma’am.”
“Hi, Kim. I’m AJ. And please, no ‘ma’am.’”
He smiled and nodded as he pulled away from the curb and switched on the stereo.
AJ watched the traffic as they made their way along Parramatta Road, the University of Sydney on her right, the former Grace Bros. building, which now housed the shiny Broadway shopping center, on the left. The last time she’d been in Sydney, she’d been working in a Pitt Street Mall coffee shop and house sharing with two surfers, a German backpacker and a sex phone worker. Yet as memorable as that time was, the music coming through the car speakers overshadowed it. The songs curled softly into her brain and took her further back, to the times when she’d been crazy, full of youthful recklessness and eager for seduction by a wicked smile and a pair of serious brown eyes.
When the third song came on she sucked in a breath and leaned forward. “Is this your CD?”
“No. Mister Cooper supplied it.”
“Oh.”
“You want me to turn it off?”
“No, it’s fine.” She tried to focus on the peak-hour traffic outside but it was no good. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered as “Sway” by Bic Runga finished and Collective Soul’s “Run” began. It was the same playlist her boss at Arabelle’s had piped through their system that summer ten years ago, playing it over and over until her coworker Maz had laughingly threatened to strike unless he played something— anything!—else. AJ ticked off the songs, drowning in the past as the car cruised down George Street: “How Will I Know” by Jessica Sanchez, “With or Without You” by U2, “Put Your Arms Around Me” by Texas and, yes, even Cliff Richard’s “Miss You Nights.”
Her sudden grin was reflected back at her in the car window. Her boss had been a huge Cliff Richard fan. And Matt had remembered.
He couldn’t have known that that CD had become her soundtrack of misery, every single song either speaking of lost love, unfulfilled desires or new passion—“Heart & Shoulder” by Heather Nova, “Here We Are” by Gloria Estefan, “Always the Last To Know” by Del Amitri.
She smoothed back her hair and put those thoughts from her mind. Instead, she tried to focus on how much she’d enjoyed working those twelve months at Arabelle’s, the casual camaraderie the staff had shared, the fun they’d had spending all their days off at the beach, then partying all night.
Melancholy rose. Hearing this music again made her miss them, a bittersweet emotion considering they’d all moved on with their lives and started their own families.
“In the Air Tonight” by Phil Collins came on and her smile returned.
God, she loved this song. The sexy, mournful guitar, the smooth, haunting lyrics. Then that heavy drum solo that seemed to come from nowhere. It was a hot, provocative song, designed for lovemaking.
Perfect for tonight.
She squeezed her thighs together and breathed deep, the music curling seductively in her belly until the car finally pulled to a stop.
When Matthew swung the door swung open, she couldn’t stop her heart from tripping over itself. Just like last night, he offered his hand and she took it, letting him help her from the car with a smile.
He swept his gaze over her, taking in her strappy silver heels, long wraparound red dress with the plunging neckline and soft black cardigan she’d topped it with. “You look great.” But when his eyes went to her hair, he frowned.
Her hand went to her careful coiffure. “What?”
“What’s with your hair?”
“What do you mean?”
He nodded. “Why do you tie it back like that? Doesn’t it give you a headache?”
“No.” She smoothed it back, tucking a nonexistent strand behind her ear. “It’s more efficient this way. Less annoying.”
“You should leave it loose.” And before she could reply, he had a hand in her hair and was digging out the hairclips she’d painstakingly positioned.
She twisted away. “Matt! No!” She patted the back, fiddling with the now-messy strands. “Damn it.” She scowled at him. “You’ve ruined it.”
“Then take it down.”
A soft growl of frustration rattled in her throat. “Fine.” She plucked out the pins, then undid the elastic. Her hair came tumbling down, the soft, freshly washed waves falling over her shoulders, making her shiver. With a scowl, she unclasped her clutch and dropped the pins inside. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” When he gently rearranged the strands, fingers brushing her cheek, her irritation faltered, then fizzled out. He linked his fingers through hers and led her across the sidewalk.
They were at the Man O’ War steps, a long jetty just around the corner from the Opera House. The sun had set behind them, leaving the Botanical Gardens in shadow. She nodded to a sleek cruiser tied to a berth as they walked down the wooden jetty. “Did you hire a boat?”
“No. It’s mine.”
“You own a boat?”
“Sure. It’s normally moored at my house but I got my captain to bring it on down.”
“Your captain.” Boy, this night was getting more surreal by the moment. “Nice music in the car, by the way. You have a good memory.”
“Comes from years of study. Good evening, Rex.” He nodded to the captain, impressive in his white uniform and brimmed cap. “This is Miss Reynolds.”
“Mr. Cooper. Miss Reynolds.” Rex inclined his head, smiling. “Are you ready to cast off, sir?”
“We are.”
AJ made her way tentatively across the drawbridge, Matt’s steadying hand at her back, before finally stepping onto the deck. It was like being on one of Sydney Ferries’ JetCats, but where the JetCat was equipped for public service efficiency, carrying hundreds of commuters per trip, this vessel was decked out purely for luxury.
She slowly walked into the cabin, marveling at the opulence. The huge interior was obviously for serious entertainment, from the wraparound glass windows displaying Sydney Harbour in all its glory to the polished wooden floors. A couple of inviting couches huddled around a huge plasma screen to her left, and to her right was an eating area with dining table and bar.
She turned back to Matt and nodded to the unset table. “I thought we were eating.”
He smiled. “We are. Aft. And—” he glanced at his watch “—it should be ready now. Come.”
He led her to the door at the rear of the cabin, one firm hand on the small of her back.
They emerged into the cold night as the rumbling engines overtook the gentle sound of waves slapping the hull. A glass partition extended along the aft rail, shielding them from the wind, and dead ahead a small table was decked out for two, complete with white plates, oversized wineglasses and candles flickering in huge glass lanterns. A long food warmer sat on one side, and on the other, a huge patio heater emanated a comforting glow.
Wow. The chauffeured car pickup, the music, the boat. And now this. He’d gone all out when she would have been satisfied with takeout on the sofa. Yet something inside her did a little dance at the effort he’d put in.
It was the little things, right?
The engines surged and the boat abruptly picked up pace, cleaving through the harbor with a whoosh of water and spray. The deck listed beneath her feet and he took her arm, steadying her.
“You like?” His smile was perfectly enigmatic.
She nodded. “I do.”
“Great. Let’s eat.”
If someone had asked her later what the meal was like, she’d be hard-pressed to remember it. Matt’s presence overshadowed every bite. She barely felt the cold wind whipping around the boat as he served their meal, all the while keeping up a comfortable commentary about the history of Botany Bay and Fort Dennison, Sydney’s first convict island.
When she finally emerged from her little bubble to glance down at her plate, everything had miraculously gone.
“Dessert?” He smiled, holding his wineglass gently by the stem.
“What do you have?”
His smile deepened. “Crème brûlée, strawberries and a decadent mocha mousse.”
“The way to a girl’s heart.” AJ sighed dramatically. “But you know,” she went on, tapping a finger on her chin, “I don’t remember you ever offering three choices before.”
“I was a struggling student.”
“Matthew Cooper, struggling? Rubbish.” Her grin took the sting out of her words and he answered it with one of his own. They sat like that for ages until her phone rang.
She dug it from her bag, glanced down at the screen, scowled, then switched it to mute.
Matt watched her but said nothing.
“No one important,” she supplied, dropping it back into her bag. “So. Italy, huh?”
He nodded. “My plane leaves at seven in the morning.”
“Your plane? As in your own personal plane?” At his nod, her eyes rounded. “Wow. I am so in the wrong job.”
He shrugged. “It’s a necessity. That way GEM isn’t bound by commercial airline schedules. I can leave within half an hour if I need to.”
“Must be nice to take off on a whim.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Says the Queen of Impulsiveness.”
“Yeah...” She sighed. “But not so much anymore. Tell me, Matt.” She leaned in, her elbows on the table. “After all the places you’ve been, having your own private boat and plane...is there something you haven’t yet achieved? Some particular goal that’s always eluded you?”
“Of course.”
“Name one.”
He paused, his expression giving nothing away. “I’ve never backed a winner in the Melbourne Cup.”
She snorted. “Winning a horse race is not a dream.”
“Speak for yourself!” He looked affronted. “It’s not just a horse race—it’s the horse race.”
AJ shrugged. “See, I never really got the whole racing thing. Just seems like you’re throwing away good money.”
“So you don’t drink or gamble,” he murmured, eyeing her over the rim of his glass. “I’m learning all sorts of things about you.”
Her eyebrows went up. “What’s there to learn? What you see is what you get, right here.”
“Angel, you are one of the most secretive women I know.”
“Oh, know a lot of women, do you?”
He made a moue of indifference. “Right now...? I can’t remember a single one.”
She felt her face flush again, and when he smoothly rose and offered his hand she didn’t hesitate. As she stood, her thigh inadvertently brushed across his groin and he sucked in a breath.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
He shook his head. “Don’t be.”
Damn it. Why him? Why this instant and intense lust?
She had absolutely no clue.
Then he kissed her and she stopped thinking.
They stood there, leisurely exploring each other’s mouths, tongue and skin, while the slow burn of desire steadily curled higher and the hint of cold night teased everywhere their bodies didn’t touch.
“Matt...” she got out, her breath racing across his mouth. “I need to—”
“I know.”
“—use the bathroom.”
His crestfallen look was so comical she had to bite back a grin. But when he nodded and stepped back, the keen sense of loss she felt chased away any amusement.
“Inside, to the left.”
She nodded. “I won’t be long.”
* * *
Come on. Get it together. Palms flat on the polished vanity, AJ stared at her reflection in the huge bathroom mirror. This gut-sucking passion, this breathless rush of being swept along by something bigger, was all familiar territory. He affected her with every single kiss, every single touch. He had magic hands—magic Matthew hands.
Surgeon’s hands, so familiar with the human body, so familiar with healing, with giving life.
So familiar with her.
She straightened the towel on the rack. This was a good thing. It meant she could relax and enjoy herself, which was highly conducive to baby making. Stressing about it would be counterproductive.
Okay, so go out there and have a good time.
With a nod at her reflection, she smoothed the ends of her hair, tweaked the edges of her bra to plump up her breasts, then rubbed her lips together, the smooth glide of lipstick a time-honored confidence booster.
She left the bathroom, her heels ringing boldly on the polished wood. But when she walked outside, her confidence dissolved under the weight of Matt’s loaded gaze.
“Your phone rang again,” Matthew said as she walked over to the table. “Someone called Jesse?”
“The married ex,” she supplied when she noticed his too-casual, I’m-not-going-to-ask look. “He’s—” Her phone vibrated and AJ glanced down. “Speak of the devil.” She grabbed it and pivoted, stalking to the railing for privacy. Unshielded by the partition, the cold night air blasted over her skin, whipping her hair. She flicked on the phone, then shoved a hand through the whirling mass, shoving it from her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Jay-jay! How are you doing, sexy legs?”
“Stop calling me that—it makes you sound like an idiot.” His deliberate twist on her initials and that little pet name had been mildly cute when they were dating. Now it just made her want to smack him.
“So, I thought we could grab a drink tonight.”
“Look, I told you we’re over. Stop calling me,” she hissed, shooting a glance back at Matt, who was leaning over the opposite railing, his attention seemingly absorbed by the dark water below. “Go back to your wife.”
“Aww, babe, if we really were over, why’re you still taking my calls?”
“Because you keep calling me, dumbass!”
His laugh rumbled down the line. “I miss that mouth! Especially when you did—”
She hung up. With a frustrated growl she stalked back to the table, then slowly, deliberately put her phone down when all she wanted to do was hurl it into the ocean.
She put a cold hand to her cheek and sighed. Her face was burning.
“Why do you still have your ex on your phone?”
Matt had turned back to her and she eyed him, cupping her other cheek. “So I know when to ignore his calls.”
“He calls often?”
She shrugged. “Once or twice a month.”
“Why don’t you tell him to piss off?”
She gave him a look. “I have. He keeps calling.”
“So get him blocked. There are laws against stalking, AJ.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “But then I’d have to visit the police, file an official report—” That was the biggie. Her parents had screwed with her psyche so well, drumming in that irrational fear of the cops so deep it had taken her years—and a good therapist—to overcome their conditioning.
Plus, there was the small matter of her criminal record....
Her phone rang again but this time, Matt beat her to it. “Jesse? Yeah, this is AJ’s phone. Listen, you need to stop calling her,” he said in that cool, clipped tone. He ignored her silently mouthed protest and turned his back on her. “She’s not interested in jerks who cheat on their wives. So get over it and move on.” He paused. “Me? Dr. Matthew Cooper, former head of neurosurgery at Saint Catherine’s.”
“Oooo, a doctor! And British, too!”
Oh, Lord, she could hear Jesse’s mocking comeback from here! And judging by the way Matthew’s expression turned carefully blank, he was not impressed, either. His eyes locked on hers as Jesse let fly with something she couldn’t quite make out.
Finally, Matt said softly, “Yeah, okay. I’d be careful who you’re threatening, if I were you.” Another pause, then a slow smile bloomed, his direct gaze still on her. “Because my best mate is ex-CIA and he really, really loves his guns. So be a good boy and lose AJ’s number.”
With that, he hung up and handed her phone back.
Honestly, she should be furious he’d butted in, but all that came to mind was... “Do you really know someone in the CIA?”
“He’s my head of security.”
“Right. But he wouldn’t really shoot him.”
“Who knows? Decker’s been in some tight situations where force was the only option. We both have.”
“So your job is dangerous then?”
“It can be.” He reached for her hand and drew her close. “Why? Are you worried?”
“No.”
She glanced away but Matt, damn him, had her measure. He pulled her flush against him, his heat searing into her, his laugh a soft breath against her cheek.
“You’d miss me, Angel. Admit it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t miss your huge ego, that’s for sure.”
“Ahh, but you’d miss this, I bet.” Then his lips swooped down to meet hers and she just about melted on the spot.
They kissed until they were both breathless, until she felt her legs go wobbly and Matt gently drew her toward the cabin doors. Then they were inside and after a few more agonizing kisses, AJ felt a soft pressure on the back of her legs.
The sofa.
Matt nudged her and she sank into the cushions, taking him with her. He sprawled across her lap, his thighs hard against hers, his arms against the backrest on either side of her head.
“The windows—”
“Tinted,” he got out, nipping her jaw.
“But the crew—”
“Topside. With instructions not to interrupt.”
“But—”
“Angel, do you want to keep talking or would you rather I do this?” And with one smooth movement, he swept aside her dress and brought his mouth down to her breast.
Her back arched as he tongued her nipple to painful erectness through the black satin bra. Then he dragged the cup down, exposing her fully to his careful ministrations. His teeth latched on to that swollen nub and her breath hissed out in glorious ecstasy.
Oh, yes. She’d miss this. He was so very, very good at arousing her, whipping her into a bundle of aching, raw nerves until she was begging him to take her. Like now. She squirmed, eager for more of his lips, his tongue, his hands. Pinned by his thighs, the bulge between them only frustrated her, fueling her desperation.
“Just so you know,” she began, “this...ah...is going to be...” Another small groan escaped her as he dragged her dress off one shoulder and flicked his tongue along the exposed flesh. “It’s just a simple matter of...”
“Want.” There was no triumph, only complete conviction in his reply. Then he lifted his head, grasped her face firmly in his hands and silenced her with a kiss.
It was the best kiss she’d had in her life, and it just went on and on.
Finally, when they were both breathless, he released her mouth and returned to her breasts, gently sucking one nipple as he slowly massaged her other breast with his hand.
She groaned. “Matt...I need to move.”
He shifted his weight, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist.
“Would you miss this, Angel?” he murmured against her breast.
She muttered her ascent, too consumed with sensation to form a coherent word.
“And this?” He squeezed her other breast, kneading, caressing.
“Mmm.” Her head lolled, eyes closing, and she heard his soft chuckle, full of male satisfaction.
“Or maybe this?” His hand went to her thigh, dragging her dress up. “You’re so warm.”
Their gazes locked. A wolfish smile gradually transformed his features, and AJ marveled at the sight. He was so beautiful. So totally and utterly seductive. So—
He pulled aside her knickers and dove into her folds, his thumb brushing over the hard nub.
Enough thinking. She let sensation take her. With every touch of his tongue on her nipple, every stroke of his fingers between her legs, her body jerked, pleasure sparking then fanning out, following the path of her blood as it chugged through her veins.
“Matt!” Ripples of desire sensitized her skin. “Please!”
“You seem to be doing a lot of begging lately, Angel.” His voice practically purred as his fingers continued their excruciating work. “What would you say if I did...this?”
One finger slid into her slick heat and she gasped. Oh, yes. She waited...waited...
He’d stopped.
What the hell...? She groaned, wriggled around, trying to get him to move. Yet he remained still, his other hand flat on her belly, firmly holding her in place. Her breath raced, blood throbbing as she snapped her head up to meet his glittering gaze.
“Or maybe...” he said, his mouth kinking up into a wicked smile. “This?”
And in one smooth movement he slid down her body, removing her underwear as he went. Then he replaced his fingers with his lips and she nearly bucked off the sofa. White-hot sensation exploded as his tongue began lavishing attention on the most intimate part of her, licking, sucking, loving.
Desire throbbed through every single vein, every muscle in Matthew’s body. AJ surrounded him—her skin, her scent, her soft moans of pleasure. It made him want to rip off his clothes and take her hard and fast on the floor. Yet instead of giving in to that desperate need, he took a jagged breath, gathered the threads of his shredded control and focused on loving her with his mouth.
He nibbled her inner thigh, dragging his chin across the sensitive skin. His fingers dug into her skin as he lifted her hips to him and feasted on her sweetness, running his tongue slowly up, then down, loving the way she tasted, loving that her scent and arousal were in his every breath. And when he felt her trembling slowly increase, felt her thighs tense around him, he knew she was heading to the edge.
He left her there, legs spread with her dress rucked around her waist, one breast exposed, head flung back in a familiar arch of ecstasy while he quickly pulled off his clothes.
It took too long, way too long.
When he was finally naked, he positioned himself between her legs, his hands splayed on her rib cage, feeling her deep panting breath, the ripples of passion across her skin.
“Angel,” he ground out. “Look at me.”
She did, slowly, languorously, and the arousal in her eyes blew him away. With a groan, he plunged deep inside her.
He made love to her that way, his hands gripping her waist, their eyes locked, as he slid deeply in, then slowly out.
His pounding heartbeat echoed in his head, his chest. Damn, it felt so good! Better than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. He groaned again as she tipped her hips, and when she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, he let her pull him down. She kissed him, deeply, passionately, using her tongue to tease, taste, toy. His breath galloped, matching hers, the throb of their hearts pounding in unison as he plunged into her. And gradually, everything built, sweeping closer and closer until he couldn’t stand the mix of agony and ecstasy any longer.
He thrust a hand between them, where their bodies were slick with passion and friction, his fingers seeking her tight bud. When he found it, she shuddered, eyes wide, as he flicked it over and over.
“Matt!” She gasped, her breath coming out in tight little puffs as her legs squeezed his waist. “I think...”
“C’mon, Angel,” he crooned in her ear, his lips against her damp hair. “Come with me.”
When she did, it was the most glorious thing he’d ever seen. It was so intense, so powerful, that his teeth clenched, jaw grinding as waves of pleasure rushed him, tossing him up then quickly dumping him down, down, so deeply down.
Everything screamed, every muscle, every vein, every inch of his skin. Hot. Too hot. I can’t... Then sensation took over and with a wrenching groan he spilled into her hot warmth.
“Angel,” he groaned, her slick heat surrounding him, accepting him, taking all of him.
Glorious.
Eventually, when he slowly began to return back to earth, his other senses kicked in. He took in her racing breath, her musky skin, the aftermath of her orgasm still pulsing around him. He’d done that, brought her to the peak of ecstasy, had made her beg for him, before taking them both over the edge. And man, he felt like leaping up and punching the air like some macho alpha, smug in the knowledge he’d thoroughly pleasured a woman.
Not just a woman. This woman. His arms tightened around her, skin still moist with sweat. Her chin was tilted up, her eyes shut, hands provocatively splayed across her neck, just above her breasts.
He dropped a gentle kiss on one peaking nipple and she started. He grinned as she glanced down to meet his eyes.
“You okay?”
Man, that smile undid him every time: languorous and thoroughly sated, full of warm pleasure. “Oh, yeah.”
He bathed in the satisfied glow and let the silence surround them, a silence punctuated by the faint hum of the engines and the gentle rocking of the boat as it cleaved through the choppy Sydney waters.
“What time is it?” she finally asked, then suppressed a shiver.
He glanced over to the entertainment unit at the glowing DVD clock. “One. Why?”
“Shouldn’t you be getting some rest before your early flight?”
“I can sleep on the plane.” He looped his arms around her waist to gather her close but stilled when he felt her gentle tug of resistance.
Okay. That was odd.
Smothering a frown, he eased back, then slowly, regretfully, slid from her.
Whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t good, given the prolonged silence while he gathered up his clothes.
When he’d dragged on his pants and turned back to her, she’d fixed her clothes and was now sitting demurely on the couch, knees pressed together, staring thoughtfully at her hands. Almost as if by meeting his scrutiny she’d inadvertently divulge something she’d rather keep private. And judging by her expression, she’d rather make a swim for the shore than tell him what she was thinking right now.
Steady on. This isn’t some kind of race. And this was AJ—a woman who heated up his bed, gave herself so completely to their lovemaking, yet managed to keep a part of herself untouched.
The desire to break down her walls had never been as intense as it was right at this moment.
“You know,” she finally said, meeting his eyes. “I never did get that dessert.”
His sudden bark of laughter made her lips curve in response, and the tension leeched out.
“Then we shall have to fix that.”
He offered his hand and she took it without hesitation.
