by S. E. Law
“I’m sorry. I’m okay.” She sniffles and looks embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” I take a solid step away from her. “Now tell me what the hell happened here and why the hell you’re walking around in your underwear.” She takes a deep breath and begins.
9
Cora
Matt’s usually friendly tone is menacing. What is he doing here? How did he know I was in trouble? I wonder as I stare up at his face. Even wearing a furious expression, the man is downright gorgeous, and I feel a twinge of longing down there.
I drop my gaze in embarrassment only to look back up into his sharp blue eyes.
I’m practically naked, I realize hysterically.
My alarm and embarrassment must be evident all over my face because Matt’s own expression seems to relax ever so slightly as his eyes shift and roam freely over my barely-clothed form. His gaze goes from my blushing face to my heaving breasts and then moves a little lower to my nearly see-through panties.
But to my surprise, I’m not self-conscious from his scrutiny but instead kind of turned on by it. And for just one second, I wonder what it would be like if his hands were to follow the same trail his eyes just made down my body. And then his lips.
Oh my god, Cora, stop fantasizing! I scold myself. This is such a ridiculous time and place to be fantasizing about your ex-father-in-law!
In some ways, though, maybe my little fantasy isn’t so out of line. After all, he did just burst into my house and rescue me, I acknowledge. Plus, it doesn’t help that even after fighting an actual fire, Matt looks like a towering god, with those sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes and…
“Cora.” The sharp sound of my name coming from Matt’s lips jolts me from my reverie.
“Sorry. I – I need to, let me go find something to put on.” Suddenly mortified by my dirty thoughts and almost naked body, I scoot around Matt and run to the couch to grab a blanket.
Quickly I unfold the quilt and start to drape it around me only to realize it’s sopping wet from the water hose. The water drips onto my skin and immediately seeps into my bra, making my nipples go taut from the chill. From the kitchen, Matt watches me with an unreadable look in his eyes, as if he wants to say or do something. But instead, he merely stands back and observes my struggle with the soggy cloth.
I drop the offending blanket and scurry to the entryway closet, hoping to find something less absurd in there. I dig around for a minute and finally emerge with a large coat. I struggle into it, and thankfully, it’s still dry. But the coat only covers my torso – the damn thing barely reaches down to my panties!
Well, at least it’s better than nothing, I decide ruefully and raise my chin as I walk back to the kitchen and the lecture I know is coming.
Matt looks at me, raising his eyebrows in amusement.
I tug the coat down discreetly, but it’s no use. The movement only draws Matt’s eyes to my barely-covered pussy, and I blush all over again. Resigned, I cross my arms in front of my chest and ask Matt my own questions before he can start scolding me.
“What are you doing here? How did you even know where I was?” I demand, indignation rising in my voice.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Matt’s deep voice is even lower than before. “That’s some thanks, Cora.”
Chastened, I lower my head.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you, really. The fire was out of control and if you hadn’t shown up when you did – ” I stop, my voice catching as the fear of the previous moments comes rushing back in.
But Matt doesn’t comfort me. Rather, he turns away and walks further into the kitchen, his brooding form huge and ominous in the small space. I follow him timidly, unsure what to do or say. I don’t have to wait long because Matt spins around and grabs my arms, anger flashing across his handsome face.
“What the hell were you thinking, starting a fire like that? Were you trying to get yourself killed?” Matt’s voice is sharp.
“What?” I ask indignantly. “Are you crazy? No!” I shove his hands off of my shoulders and give Matt my most outraged glare. “No, I was cold, the power went out, and I just started a fire in the fireplace. I mean that is what a fireplace is for, right?” A hint of sarcasm sneaks into my own voice, but I don’t care. How dare he just show up and assume the worst?
Matt takes a deep breath and sighs. It’s obvious to me that he’s trying to control some underlying emotion.
“Cora, I didn’t mean that. It’s just when I walked in, you were practically standing in the middle of a burning blaze.”
“I was trying to put it out,” I counter sassily.
Matt sighs again, a man at the end of his rope.
“Just explain what happened. How did the fire get out of control like that?” He shakes his head, likely thinking about the unruly blaze. “What happened is not normal. The fire shouldn’t have escaped the fireplace.”
“It just got too big.” I frown, unsure myself what happened.
“Tell me exactly what you did, and how you started the fire. Step by step,” Matt commands, his voice grim.
It’s my turn to shake my head, trying to remember the events of the night, before the mishap.
“Well, I checked the fireplace as best I could in the dark. It didn’t seem too dusty and there was already some wood in it.”
“Okay, that seems fine,” Matt crosses his arms as he listens to me.
“And then I had some matches from earlier, when I’d lit the lamp. So I used matches. And I poured the lighter fluid directly on the logs, and I’m pretty sure – ” Matt holds up his hand, bafflement sneaking across his face.
He takes a deep, steadying breath and then says to me in a low, quiet voice, “Continue.”
Somewhat nervously, I finish explaining.
“And after the fire caught a little bit, I grabbed some old newspapers from the front closet and crumpled those up and added them to the pile. Then I don’t know – suddenly the whole fire was blazing and before I knew it, sparks started jumping everywhere. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest pot I could. I thought I’d be able to control it but it was so hot and sparks were just flying.” I shrug, my whole story now complete. I know I was babbling, but that’s more or less what happened.
“You used lighter fluid?” Matt’s voice is eerily quiet.
“Yes,” I answer.
“And newspapers?” His tone is harder now, a tinge of anger in his question.
“Um, yes?” I answer meekly.
“Are you kidding me? What the hell were you thinking? Lighter fluid and newspapers in a fireplace?” He’s yelling at this point, and I shrink back from him ever so slightly. “Fucking hell, Cora. You could have burned the whole place down! Or worse, killed yourself with the toxins!”
Matt’s face is etched with fury, and I shrink back even further as he continues his rant.
“Lighter fluid is an accelerant – you’re only supposed to use it in airy, open spaces, and it needs to be monitored. The fumes are toxic.” Matt rages. “And as you now obviously know, it causes fires to grow rapidly. Too rapidly. You’re never supposed to use it in a fireplace because that’s the surest way to burn a house down.”
Embarrassed by my mistake, I snap at Matt.
“Then what the hell are you supposed to use it for? Why would it be in the cabin?” I put my hands on my hips but immediately drop them, feeling like a petulant child.
“Barbecue grills.” Matt tells me grimly, his eyes expressionless.
“You’re kidding me.” Wanting more than anything to prove my almost father-in-law wrong, I brush past him and grab the bottle of lighter fluid from where I’d put it on the counter earlier. Coming closer to the lantern – and by default, Matt – I hold the bottle up so I can read the instructions in the dim light.
Muttering, I read halfway out loud, “‘Never add to hot coals or fire…’ Shit.” He’s right, I realize as I process the information. I go back to reading the offending bottle. “‘Use
in a well-ventilated area.’”
I blush hotly, mortified by my horrible mistake.
“I didn’t know,” I stammer. “I swear.”
He looks at me skeptically.
“And newspapers, really? Come on Cora.”
I don’t know what’s worse – Matt being angry with me or the feeling that I’ve disappointed him with my lack of knowledge when it comes to starting fires. Either way, I’m irritated with myself and with Matt.
“What’s wrong with newspapers?” I demand, riled up by this conversation for some reason.
“Okay, sure newspapers are flammable. But most people advise against burning them, especially inside a house.”
“It’s paper!” I snap at him. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Toxic paper!” Matt snaps back. “It’s toxic from the inks, and from the paper-making process. And inside, with every window closed and combined with lighter fluid, it’s amazing to me you didn’t just pass out on the spot.”
I can tell Matt is fuming, but my own rage seems to finally be winding down. I suddenly feel exhausted, whether from my battle with the fire, the events of the past several days, or the fumes floating around. I lean hard against the counter, feeling dizzy.
Matt notices immediately and stops chastising me.
“Hey Cora, are you okay?” I look up into his blue eyes, brilliant even in the darkness, and nod slowly.
“I feel a little lightheaded, actually,” I admit with some embarrassment. “Maybe the fumes got me,” I joke weakly.
His expression darkens and he looks at me carefully.
“You look pale, and I think you need to go lie down. Now,” he adds with authority.
I nod slowly, too weak to disagree. Sluggishly while still holding the counter for support, I turn around and start making my way out of the kitchen.
“Here, let me help you,” he growls. Before I can protest, Matt is pulling me toward him, his brawny arm winding its way around my waist. I try to pull away from his strong hold, but I feel weak and find myself needing to lean against his hard frame.
But even more than feeling weak, I like the feel of Matt Harrison’s arm around my waist, how his hand rests on my hip, and how I have to lean on him.
He smells like fire and cedar and man, I think headily.
I cringe and Matt tightens his grip. God the toxins really are getting to me.
I try not to think too much more about how I’m pressed up against his muscled mass as we carefully begin to snake our way through the dark house. In his other hand, Matt holds the kerosene lantern, and while it provides some light, it still makes for slow going.
We both hesitate at the bottom of the stairs. Matt, probably because he’s unfamiliar with the house, and me because I’m a little too familiar.
We can both fit on the narrow staircase side by side, but I know it’s going to be a tight walk up them. Our bodies will be pressed close together, and that thought alone secretly thrills me.
But my excitement is just as quickly followed by an internal reprimand. He’s Marky’s dad, I hiss to myself. You know, the guy you were supposed to marry up until three days ago?
With that humbling realization, I pull away from Matt. He drops his arm and in the dark I think I see what almost appears to be regret cross over his face.
“I think I can get upstairs on my own,” is my mutter.
Warily, I grip the bannister and climb the first step.
Big mistake. Without Matt’s steady support, I feel even dizzier than I had just moments ago. Before I can fall, however, Matt is gripping me tightly.
“Just let me help you get to bed, Cora.” He sounds exasperated so I give in.
What are a few stairs? It’s not like he’s thinking the same taboo thoughts. Determined to control my forbidden feelings for this man, I hold onto Matt tightly as we slowly ascend the staircase.
As he did before, Matt’s thick arm is wound around my waist and his hand rests against my hip. Even as I try to press into the bannister to provide a little distance between our bodies, it’s pointless. And with Matt holding my waist so tightly, the jacket, which was already comically short to begin with, is now hiked up well above my panties, revealing my soft shadow.
Thank god it’s too dark for him to really see.
Finally, we reach the top of the stairs and I lead us into the master bedroom. Once in the room, Matt lets go of me and I don’t know whether to feel relieved or sad by the action.
He goes to the bed and pulls back the covers.
“Get in.” His words are harsh, but strangely, I find them comforting. Part of me wants to know what he’ll do if I refuse, but I’m honestly too tired to even attempt to disobey.
Sluggishly, as if in a dream, I unzip the bulky jacket and drop it onto the floor next to the bed. Just as slowly, I finally make my way onto the bed and under the covers. Almost immediately I start shivering against their frigid stiffness.
Fortunately, Matt tucks the covers around me tightly, like a cozy cocoon. But I’m still trembling from cold, and as seems to always be the case with Matt, he notices immediately.
“Are there more blankets in the cabin?”
“Linen closet,” I tell him through my chattering teeth. “Right across the hall.” I gesture vaguely to the doorway.
“Be right back.”
I watch Matt go to the little closet and retrieve a large comforter from the shelf, along with another quilt. He returns and puts first the comforter and then the quilt on top of me.
“I’m so cold,” I chatter, unable to control my wavering voice.
Matt sits down next to me on the bed and starts rubbing my body vigorously over the many blankets. His efforts seem to help because I can feel my shaking start to ease.
“You’re not just shivering because it’s cold in here, Cora,” he tells me gently. “You’re in shock. The fire was a threat and adrenaline started pumping through your body in response.” Matt continues his rubbing down the length of my body and it’s strangely soothing despite his vigorous touch. “But now that the danger is over, your body should return to normal. Just relax, sweetheart.”
But looking at Matt’s hooded eyes, deeply sexy smile, and sharp jaw, I’m not so sure that the danger is over.
10
Matt
Looking down into Cora’s deep brown eyes while gently stroking my hands over and across her ample body, I can’t help but feel relief and tension all mixed together.
On the one hand, I’m relieved that I arrived when I did and prevented a major disaster. On the other, sitting on the edge of Cora’s bed with just a few flimsy sheets between us, my whole body feels like a coil wound too tightly.
I want her, I think, my own voice gruff in my mind. But it’s wrong. She’s your son’s former fiancée, for crying out loud.
As I continue to try and warm up the poor, frightened girl by stroking her full figure, I watch as her worn out body slowly relaxes. Cora’s eyes are closed now, and I can tell she’s close to falling asleep. I move my hands from her legs up toward her shoulders, and she sighs deeply. I rub her arms briskly over the covers and as I do so, Cora curls into me. I stop rubbing and just hold her like that for a moment, wanting to bring as much comfort as I can to her.
God, that must have been terrifying.
I’m disappointed in myself, and that I let my anger get away from me.
But the truth is, I’m not so much angry with Cora for her ignorance about fire safety as I am pissed that something horrible could have happened to her.
A soft sigh escapes Cora’s lips, followed by a light snore, signaling that the beautiful brunette is finally sleeping. She’s a tempting sight. Her lips are a rosy red, and slightly pouted from relaxation. Her long lashes form dark semi-circles on her cheeks, and one bare, lovely shoulder protrudes from the blanket.
Don’t do it, the voice in my head warns. This is not the time.
But I can’t help it. I know this lush, lovely girl is wearing next-to-nothing
below the blanket, and slowly, I lift the coverlet to reveal her curves. Her lush assets come into view: first one big breast, and then the other. They’re enormous and as she shifts a bit in her sleep, the lacy strap on her right arm falls down.
Don’t do it, the voice comes again, but I ignore my better self. Instead, I reach out with one hand, and gently stroke the strap off until the lacy cup falls away, revealing a rosy pink bud.
Oh shit, she’s beautiful. Her breasts must be Double Ds and the tight crest at the top beckons for my mouth. Like a man in a trance, I lean forward and latch onto her nipple for just a second. She moans softly as I suckle, turning over onto her back as if to give me better access.
Now, I’m completely done for. I pull the blanket lower, and let out a silent groan of desire. Her pink panties are practically see-through from our furious efforts to douse the fire. The thin material reveals a shadow between her thighs, and as I watch, she stirs again, her knees raising into a tempting, open vee. Slowly, I run a finger over her tight bud and Cora lets out a tiny moan, her legs falling open even wider.
Good, she likes it, I think feverishly to myself. Slowly, I pull the material of her crotch to the side, revealing those steamy pink lips and practically lose it right there. She’s lush and lovely, and so very tight. Her little hole winks at me even as her bud stands up at attention, waving with arousal. Gently, I stroke circles around it, murmuring with approval as she moistens onto my hand.
Any other man would leave now, but I can’t. I’ve been fantasizing about this woman for so long, and now she’s here, like a Sleeping Beauty who has yet to be touched by a man. Slowly, I drag one giant finger up her lips, stopping at her tiny hole. Cora moans again, shifting her hips a bit, as if begging for it, and I oblige.
Oh so gently, I ease a finger into her tightness. She whimpers a bit, a shadow coming over her beautiful features for a moment, and I stop. But then Cora relaxes once more, and I push even deeper into that sweet wetness. Oh shit, she’s so tight and she gets even tighter the further inside I go. Finally, my middle finger is embedded fully into her sweet pussy, and I pause for a moment as Cora twists slightly under my touch. But then her legs widen involuntarily again, and there’s a hot gush of wetness on my palm. Good. Her body has given its signal.