She gripped his lapels, her fists tugging tighter, pulling him closer as she pressed herself to him. Her lips parted, her tongue meeting his every bit as aggressively as he sought hers. She tasted of citrus from her lime water earlier, more potent than any alcohol.
Her soft br**sts molded temptingly against his chest and his hands itched to stroke her without the barrier of clothes or possible interruption.
As much as he ached to have her here, out in the open with the sky and waves all around them, he knew that wasn’t practical. “We should take this inside before we lose control.”
“And before someone with a telephoto lens gets an up-close and personal of the total you.”
“Not an image I want recorded for posterity.”
Laughing, she clasped his hand and dashed toward his white clapboard carriage house. She kept the hem of her dress hitched in one fist, a mesmerizing dichotomy in her formal gown and bare feet.
Matthew tugged at her hand. “Our shoes.”
She smiled back at him, her eyes full of total desire. “To hell with our shoes.”
Staring back at her, he knew he wouldn’t say no to Ashley in full tilt temptress mode. He just wished he could be sure his conscience would fare better against the harsh morning light than their shoes would against the elements.
Eight
A shley gripped Matthew’s hand as he led her past sprawling oak trees to his two-story carriage house. The quaint white home with gray-blue shutters gleamed like a beacon with the security lights strategically placed. Sand clung to her skin, rasping along her hyper-revved nerves as she raced by fragrant azaleas up the stone steps after him.
He swung the gray door wide and hauled her into the pitch dark hallway. Before she could blink, he’d slammed the door closed and pressed her against the wood panel for a kiss that sent her blood crashing through her veins like out-of-control waves during a hurricane. His hands were planted on either side of her head as he seduced her with nothing more than his mouth on hers. The taste of lingering ocean spray mingled with the lemon from his water earlier. Her shawl shimmered down her arms to pool around her feet.
Her foot stroked along the back of his calf, her sandy feet rasping against the fine fabric of his trousers. She grasped at his back, stroking and gripping and stroking more, lower, urging him closer until his body sealed flush against hers. And oh yes, she could feel how much he wanted her, too. She rocked against the hard length of him, searching, aching for release.
Matthew tore his mouth from hers and nipped along her jaw until he reached her ear where he buried his face in her hair, his five-o’clock shadow gently abrading her skin. Her eyes adjusting to the dark, she could see the straining tendons in his neck. His breath flamed over her in hot bursts.
“Ashley, we need to slow this down a notch if I’m going to make it to the bedroom, or at least to the sofa.”
She didn’t want to stop, even for the short stretch of hardwood it would take to reach the leather couch a few feet away in the moonlit living room. “Why move then? As long as you’ve got protection in your pocket, I’m more than happy with right here, right now.”
His low growl of approval sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.
He tugged his wallet free. “I’ve been carrying protection since that first night with you. I knew full well the chemistry between us could combust again without warning.”
Matthew plucked out a condom and pitched his wallet over his shoulder. The thud of leather against wood snapped what little restraint she had left.
In a flurry of motion she barely registered since he’d started kissing her again, she grappled with his belt while he bunched the hem of her clingy cream dress in his fists, higher, higher still until he reached her waist. With one impatient hand he gripped the thin scrap of her satin panties—and how she delighted in the fact that when she’d shopped for underwear, she hadn’t selected so much as a single piece of practical cotton.
She managed to open his fly and encircle him with a languorous glide of her fingers along his hot hard arousal. His jaw flexed. His grip twisted on her panties until they…snapped.
Cool air swooshed along her overheated flesh in an excruciating contrast. “Now,” she gasped against his mouth. “To hell with foreplay.”
“If you insist,” he groaned between gritted teeth.
She couldn’t resist watching every intimate detail as he rolled the sheathe into place. Matthew hitched an arm under her bottom and lifted her against the door until the heat of him nudged perfectly between her legs. Inch by delicious inch, he lowered her as he filled her. She hooked her legs around his waist and pressed him the rest of the way home.
Tremors began quaking through her before he even moved and she realized their every touch in the days prior had been foreplay leading to this. He eased away. Then thrust into her with a thick abandon that sent her over the edge without warning.
Her head flung back against the door as she cried out with each wave cresting through her. Her heels dug deeper into his buttocks. Matthew moved faster, taking the waves higher. His shout of completion spurred a final wash of pleasure, and her body went limp.
They stood locked together silently for…well, she wasn’t sure how long. Then he released her and her feet slid to the floor.
She started to sag, her muscles too weak with satisfaction to hold her, and he scooped her into his arms.
“I’ve got you, Ashley. Just relax.”
She hummed her approval against his chest. She would figure out how to talk again later.
On his way through the small foyer, he paused for her to flick one of the light switches, bathing the room in a low glow. As he strode into the living room, she lounged sated against his chest and took a moment to learn more about Matthew from his surroundings. Deep burgundy leather chairs and a sofa filled the airy room, angled for a perfect view of both the ocean and the widescreened television. Striped wool hooked rugs scattered along tile into an open-area dining room and high-tech kitchen.
And dead center across the room—a narrow hallway that undoubtedly led to the bedrooms.
He stopped beside the sofa. “Do you want to stay here or head back there?”
“There, please.” She wanted to learn more about him beyond his political standings, affinity for leather furniture and childhood love of cop costumes.
“Lucky for me, that’s exactly where I want to be, too. Actually, anywhere you are without your clothes sounds perfect to me.”
Even as she told herself to savor the sensations of the here and now, she couldn’t help fearing the out-of-control waves of emotion Matthew stirred could drown her in the end. If so, tonight would be all she could afford to risk.
This could all be simpler than he’d predicted.
Matthew carried Ashley back toward his bedroom, wondering if he’d overthought this whole situation. They got along well and the chemistry hadn’t been a one-time fluke. Why not ride the wave? Friendship with rocking hot sex could be an awesome, uncomplicated alternative to spending the rest of their lives alone or locked in some relationship where emotions ruled their lives to the exclusion of all else.
He grazed a quick kiss along her passion-swollen lips before easing her onto his bed. Yeah, he liked the look of her there.
And he would enjoy it even more once he peeled her clothes from her sweet body.
Apparently Ashley had the same idea, because she arched up from the bed to kiss him with an ardent intent that made it clear she was ready for round two. He draped his jacket over the chair without ever breaking contact with her mouth. She tugged his tie with frantic fingers, loosening until finally the length slid free from his collar. She flicked the silk over her shoulder and set to work on the buttons down the front of his shirt until she glided her cool finger inside along his bare skin.
Matthew kissed aside one shoulder strap of her dress. With the dress’s built in bra and her panties out on the foyer floor, she was perilously close to total exposure.
He smiled in anticipation against her flowery scented skin. “At least we’re going to make it to a bed this time.”
She shoved his pants down and away. He kicked them to the side. “I liked the hall.”
“Me, too.” He liked her anywhere. “But this time we’re going to take it slower.”
Matthew brushed away and down both straps of her gown, guiding it over her br**sts, teasing along her h*ps until it slithered to her feet. He couldn’t resist stilling for a moment to take her in. It seemed like longer than a handful of days since he’d had the pleasure of seeing her nak*d.
He remembered her being hot. He dreamed of her sexiness. But he’d forgotten or hadn’t taken the time to notice some of the more intimate details of her body—such as the enticing mole on her hip that he now traced with his thumb to better imprint it in his memory. Countless other nuances of Ashley burned themselves into his brain.
Then she flattened her hand to his chest and brought a close to his ability to think. Time to feel. To touch. He traced her collarbone with his tongue, working kisses and nips lower to her tempting curves until his mouth closed over the peak of one breast, drawing it tighter, then shifting his attention to the other equally sweet swell, in need of more, more of her, sooner than he’d expected after their mind-blowing encounter in the hall. She arched against him and then they were both tumbling onto the bed.
She slid her hands down his back and cupped his taut buttocks, digging in her fingers, urging him closer. “Now, Matthew.”
He clasped her wrists and gently eased them to the side. “Slower this time, remember?”
“Forget about slower. We have all flipping night for slower.” She wriggled temptingly under him.
He trailed kisses between her br**sts, shifting his hold on her wrists to link fingers with her. He nipped along her rib cage, working his way south.
He blew air against her stomach, lower, lower still until she gasped.
“Matthew?”
“FTW,” he mumbled against her.
“What?”
He glanced up the length of her creamy white body and grinned. “FTW. For the win, lady. I’m going for the win.”
Ashley swept her hand through the frothy hot tub waters, reclining back into the warmth of Matthew’s nak*d strength serving as the perfect “arm chair.” His Jacuzzi was built into the bathroom with a skylight overhead, which offered the aura of being outside without the loss of privacy.
After making love again in his bedroom, he’d shown her the oversize bathroom that had been an add-on to the carriage house. Just as she’d sunk into the full tub, he’d returned with champagne and strawberries—and joined her. The added bulk of his body eased the water just over the tips of her br**sts, the gentle swoosh a warm temptation.
As much as she wanted to relax into the moment, sipping her drink, enjoying the burst of fruit on her taste buds as Matthew fed her, her stomach kept tightening with nerves. Things with Matthew were getting more complicated by the second.
Damn it, she should be happy. She’d fantasized over what it would be like with this man. He wasn’t hotfooting toward the door like after their first night together. So why did his ring suddenly feel so utterly heavy on her finger?