upstairs in my room. I have the best duvet ever and I curl up beneath it and watch all my guilty pleasures.”
He took another drink of wine and then put his glass down on a nearby table. “I can think of a few other guilty pleasures that have nothing to do with the television,” he said. He went to her, took her glass from her fingers and put it beside his. “I think we’ve covered the polite hellos, don’t you?”
“Matt—”
“You know why I’m here.”
Her chest rose and fell as if labored. “You said booty call…”
She was right, but it sounded so crass to say he’d come for sex even if it was true. It was more than that. But how much more? He didn’t want to dig too deep for the answer to that question. “I came because I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting you. I can’t get you out of my system, Lindsay.”
“I don’t do flings,” she said weakly, and he saw panic widen her eyes as he moved closer to her.
“Ever?”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
“But you don’t do relationships either, do you?”
She shook her head again.
Oh boy. No wonder she went off like a rocket the other night. By process of elimination he saw a pretty clear picture of her social life. “So what do you do?”
His voice was deliberately smooth now and he was only a few inches away from her. His hands itched to reach out and grab but he kept his distance, teasing with his proximity. Her lashes fluttered and her pupils expanded as she met his gaze.
“I do a lot of talk lately and not much action,” she admitted. “It’s less messy that way.”
“But not nearly as fun,” he remarked, inching even closer so that their bodies were almost brushing. “You want this,” he murmured, low and seductive. “You know you do.”
She swallowed. He waited, then added, “Reach out and take it.”
There was a moment when he wasn’t sure she really would. Then slowly, with trembling fingers, she put her hands on the wall of his chest.
There’d been a frantic element to it their first night together. Tonight Matt wanted to savor, so he took his time, letting her hover close before he tilted his head and kissed her. Everything he did tonight would be slow and thorough—even this first kiss. He let it be soft, hot and full, a pleasure unto itself that set his blood on fire. There was an innocence to her that was as addictive as a drug. And once he’d explored every bit of her mouth, he let his fingers drift to the bow at her hip, pulled the string until the knot let go. The dress lost its shape and fell open.
Lindsay took a step back and Matt nearly had to roll his tongue back into his mouth.
Where the dress gaped he caught a glimpse of satin and lace. With her gaze locked on his, she caught the edges of the fabric and slid the dress off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. God, she was magnificent. Her creamy skin was flawless, and she’d taken his advice to heart. Red satin peeked through the black lace of possibly the tiniest panties he’d ever seen and a push-up bra that molded to her breasts like it was made for them.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, awed.
“You did put in a request,” she reminded him softly.
Yes, he had. And tonight he’d figured he’d taken her by surprise. He’d known from the start that Lindsay wasn’t a quick or easy lay. He would have been disappointed in her if she had been, he realized. She definitely wasn’t his usual forget-by-fucking kind of affair. She was too special for that.
But he was the one standing here surprised and feeling increasingly on the back foot.
“Are you going to stare all night?” she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I thought I was in a hurry,” he admitted. “And now I don’t want it to be over too soon.”
“You could start by touching me, Matt.” She took two steps closer so that all he had to do was reach out to feel her warm, soft skin or the smooth satin and lace.
He cupped his hand
He took another drink of wine and then put his glass down on a nearby table. “I can think of a few other guilty pleasures that have nothing to do with the television,” he said. He went to her, took her glass from her fingers and put it beside his. “I think we’ve covered the polite hellos, don’t you?”
“Matt—”
“You know why I’m here.”
Her chest rose and fell as if labored. “You said booty call…”
She was right, but it sounded so crass to say he’d come for sex even if it was true. It was more than that. But how much more? He didn’t want to dig too deep for the answer to that question. “I came because I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting you. I can’t get you out of my system, Lindsay.”
“I don’t do flings,” she said weakly, and he saw panic widen her eyes as he moved closer to her.
“Ever?”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
“But you don’t do relationships either, do you?”
She shook her head again.
Oh boy. No wonder she went off like a rocket the other night. By process of elimination he saw a pretty clear picture of her social life. “So what do you do?”
His voice was deliberately smooth now and he was only a few inches away from her. His hands itched to reach out and grab but he kept his distance, teasing with his proximity. Her lashes fluttered and her pupils expanded as she met his gaze.
“I do a lot of talk lately and not much action,” she admitted. “It’s less messy that way.”
“But not nearly as fun,” he remarked, inching even closer so that their bodies were almost brushing. “You want this,” he murmured, low and seductive. “You know you do.”
She swallowed. He waited, then added, “Reach out and take it.”
There was a moment when he wasn’t sure she really would. Then slowly, with trembling fingers, she put her hands on the wall of his chest.
There’d been a frantic element to it their first night together. Tonight Matt wanted to savor, so he took his time, letting her hover close before he tilted his head and kissed her. Everything he did tonight would be slow and thorough—even this first kiss. He let it be soft, hot and full, a pleasure unto itself that set his blood on fire. There was an innocence to her that was as addictive as a drug. And once he’d explored every bit of her mouth, he let his fingers drift to the bow at her hip, pulled the string until the knot let go. The dress lost its shape and fell open.
Lindsay took a step back and Matt nearly had to roll his tongue back into his mouth.
Where the dress gaped he caught a glimpse of satin and lace. With her gaze locked on his, she caught the edges of the fabric and slid the dress off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. God, she was magnificent. Her creamy skin was flawless, and she’d taken his advice to heart. Red satin peeked through the black lace of possibly the tiniest panties he’d ever seen and a push-up bra that molded to her breasts like it was made for them.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, awed.
“You did put in a request,” she reminded him softly.
Yes, he had. And tonight he’d figured he’d taken her by surprise. He’d known from the start that Lindsay wasn’t a quick or easy lay. He would have been disappointed in her if she had been, he realized. She definitely wasn’t his usual forget-by-fucking kind of affair. She was too special for that.
But he was the one standing here surprised and feeling increasingly on the back foot.
“Are you going to stare all night?” she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I thought I was in a hurry,” he admitted. “And now I don’t want it to be over too soon.”
“You could start by touching me, Matt.” She took two steps closer so that all he had to do was reach out to feel her warm, soft skin or the smooth satin and lace.
He cupped his hand
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