Nicole didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want the night to end.
Mat pulled away, his breathing shallow and harsh as he rested his forehead against hers. Even this close, in the dark interior of his car, she could see light flaring in his eyes. Passion. Desire. Need. She wanted it all. She wanted to give him it all.
Her hand curled around his neck, her fingers teasing the dark strands of hair that brushed his collar. So soft, softer than she remembered. She wanted to rip his shirt off, to run her hands along his sculpted chest, to feel the springy curl of the hair on his chest under her palm. To follow that thin line of hair down his hard abs, lower to where it disappeared below the waistband of his shorts.
She wanted all of that and more. So much more. And she was pretty sure Mat wanted the same.
Just like she was pretty sure that he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t push her. If she wanted it, she’d have to initiate it. At least, initiate it more. Because there was no doubt in her mind that the next move would have to be hers, that Mat was somehow waiting for her to decide how much further to go.
But he was leaving the decision up to her. All she had to do was tell him what she wanted, that she wanted more than just making out in the front seat of his sports car after one of the best days—the best nights—she’d ever had.
She had been hesitant at first, not sure what to expect on their date. Uncertain of herself, especially when she learned they wouldn’t be alone. Tension had vibrated through her, leftover tension from her encounter with Donnie, tension from being so hesitant and unsure. But Mat had put her at ease. So had Derek and Bridget after they arrived. It didn’t take her long to relax, to loosen up, to finally enjoy herself.
To experience something new and wonderful with people who were truly happy. With people who knew how to laugh and have fun, whether it was tossing a Frisbee back and forth or just sitting there, talking.
Just sitting there with Mat’s arms wrapped around her from behind as she leaned against him, listening to music from a real symphony orchestra as fireworks danced overhead. She’d never experienced anything like that before.
And she didn’t want it to end.
Mat reached up and gently cupped her face, the heat from his callused palm warming her. So gentle. Reassuring. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb and a thousand different sensations ripped through her, leaving her tingling and aching and hungry and feverish. Then he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his once more, sweeping his tongue inside. Slow, so slow. Nicole moaned, the tiny sound lost in their breathing, and she tried to get closer, to press her body against his, to lose herself in his touch.
But he pulled away again, much too soon, and exhaled. One corner of his mouth lifted in a small grin and he shifted in the leather seat. “I should probably get you inside.”
She should say yes. She should let him walk her to the door and say goodnight. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Not even close. She wanted him. Wanted another night like they had in New Orleans. Wanted to feel his body pressed against her, inside her, filling her.
God, she wanted that more than anything. To fall asleep in his arms, safe and secure. Protected. But she couldn’t invite him in. Not to her mother’s house—and not just because it was her mother’s, not just because of what her mother had said, of what she might say.
She didn’t want him to see where she lived. How she lived. The peeling paint and dented walls of aging plaster, the worn and tattered furnishings with their underlying odor of stale cigarette smoke. Her small room, hot and stifling, barely large enough for the single bed and makeshift desk.
No, she couldn’t invite him in. Wouldn’t invite him. But maybe, just maybe, she could suggest he take her home—to his place.
“I—” All her doubts and insecurities bubbled to the surface and she snapped her mouth shut before anything else could come out. Maybe he didn’t want to take her home. Maybe he just wanted the night to end. Maybe he—
“You what?”
“I—” She took a deep breath, willing the words to come. “I had fun tonight.”
No, that wasn’t what she wanted to say. Why couldn’t she get the words out? Why couldn’t she tell him what she wanted, like she had the other night? This wasn’t like her, not really. Hesitant, uncertain, doubting herself. Questioning herself. She thought she’d gotten over that, had finally gotten rid of that last influence from her disastrous marriage, her disastrous past. Hadn’t that been part of the reason for the trip to New Orleans? Not just to celebrate her new life, but to prove to herself that she had moved on. That her old self—her strong, self-assured self—was finally coming back.
But it wasn’t. Not if she couldn’t even get the words she wanted to speak to come out.
Mat was watching her, the corners of his eyes crinkling just the tiniest bit as he smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose. “I had fun, too. But I should probably get you inside now.”
He kissed her once more then shifted in the seat, his hand grabbing the door handle. It would only be another second, maybe two, before he opened the door. Before he got out and walked around to open hers.
Before their night would truly end.
“No!” The word came out so loud, so rushed, that even she jumped. Mat stopped, startled, then turned back to her. His brows were lowered in confusion, the same confusion that was reflected in his deep green eyes. Nicole took a deep breath to steady her nerves, searching for courage. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, wishing her fingers weren’t trembling quite so much.
“I—I don’t want to go inside. Not yet.” She licked her lips, saw Mat’s gaze follow the swipe of her tongue. The muscles of his arm tightened, flexed for just a second, and that gave her hope.
She glanced over her shoulder, at the dark shadows of the buildings lining the street. Even at night, without the harsh glare of the sun, the buildings looked tired, worn. Like they had given up on life, the same way their occupants had given up.
Nicole didn’t want that. She’d never wanted that. But that’s what she was doing. If she couldn’t find the courage to fight, couldn’t find the courage to go for what she wanted, she’d be no different than everyone else.
No different than her mother.
She’d thought it had been enough, getting away from Donnie, breaking free from the toxic hold he had on her, but she’d only been fooling herself. The only thing she was doing was coasting along, waiting for life to happen to her, watching it unfold from a distance as life happened for everyone else. She could try to convince herself she was doing something about it but that would be nothing but a lie. Tonight had taught her that. Just a few hours in the sunshine, in the open air surrounded by sprawling countryside. A few hours surrounded by people who were genuinely nice. Who laughed and smiled and actually listened when someone spoke. People who enjoyed each other’s company with no strings attached. People who talked to her, smiled at her, and expected nothing in return.
She turned back to Mat, not quite able to meet his eyes. What if she was making a mistake? What if he was only being nice and didn’t really want her?
How would she ever know if she kept making excuses instead of taking chances?
“I want to invite you in but I can’t. But I don’t—” She swallowed, the sound a small gulp that seemed too loud to her own ears. “I don’t want the night to end, though.”
Mat stilled, his arm tensing under her hand again. Was it her imagination or did something flare in his eyes? He settled back in the seat and rested his hand on the steering wheel, like he wasn’t sure what he should do with it. But he wasn’t reaching for the door handle. Nicole hoped that was a good sign.
He looked away, his jaw clenching for a brief second, then looked back at her. His chest rose on a deep breath then fell, slowly, like he was forcing himself not to breathe too fast. When he spoke, the words were quiet, almost a whisper in a husky voice that sent shivers racing across her skin, pebbling it.
&nbs
p; “Was there somewhere else you wanted to go?”
This was it, now or never. Nicole took a deep breath of her own and forced herself to meet his penetrating gaze. “We could go back to your place. If you want to.”
Chapter Thirteen
If you want to.
The shy words still rang in Mat’s head. Yeah, he wanted to. Christ, he wanted to more than he wanted to admit. He’d waited a few long minutes, just to be sure Nicole meant what he thought she meant, that she wouldn’t change her mind. The searing kiss she’d given him removed any doubt he might have had left. As soon as she pulled away, he turned the engine on and sped away from the curb, breaking the speed limit in his rush to get her home.
Now he was standing in front of his door, trying to get the damn key in the lock. Nicole was right behind him, the scorching heat from her body bathing him, driving him crazy.
And shit. Was the place clean? Yeah. The cleaning service had just been in two days ago and it wasn’t like he was a slob to begin with. Good, that meant he wouldn’t have to worry—not about the condition of his house, anyway.
The key finally turned and Mat pushed the door open, palming the light switch for the entranceway then standing aside so Nicole could enter. She offered him a small smile, almost shy, then looked around. Her eyes widened and she blinked but he didn’t understand why. Maybe the light was too bright?
He closed the door and locked it, his gaze sliding around as he tried to see the house from her eyes. It wasn’t sprawling, not like JP’s cedar house on the water, but it was comfortable. Four bedrooms and two bathrooms up the stairs to their left, another full bathroom on the first level, just off the formal sitting room. And okay, maybe that was a bit overboard because he sure as hell didn’t need a formal anything, but that’s what the realtor had called it.
The living room opened up on their right, decorated in blues and greens and creams. Past that was the kitchen and dining room, an open air concept that ran along the entire back length of the house. French doors opened off the dining room onto the large deck leading to the pool and hot tub.
He glanced around again, making sure nothing was out of place, that everything was presentable. Yeah, just as he left it. So now what? They couldn’t stand in the entranceway all night but Mat didn’t want to go all caveman on her and carry her upstairs, either. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that, not with the way her hands were tightening around the strap of the backpack held by her side.
“You live here by yourself?”
He tossed his keys onto the small table next to the door. “Uh, yeah. Would you like the grand tour? It’ll only take about two minutes.”
He’d meant the words as a joke but saw something flare in Nicole’s eyes. A shadow of…something. He couldn’t tell, only knew that whatever it was struck him as something sad. He thought to ask, wondered if maybe she was having second thoughts, but before he could say anything, Nicole was in his arms. Her body pressed tight against his, her mouth seeking his as her arms wound around his neck. The backpack was still in her hand and it hit him in the side but he didn’t care. She could hit him with the thing all night as long as she didn’t stop kissing him.
But it was more than a kiss. So much more. Mat tightened his arms around her, the palm of one hand curving around the firm flesh of her ass. He pulled her closer, pressed the hard length of his erection against her, and groaned.
Christ, he wanted her. He hadn’t stopped wanting her, not since that night in New Orleans. He wanted her with a hunger that was ferocious, frightening, intense. He wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman before.
And fuck, if he didn’t stop, if he didn’t get control of himself, he’d take her right here. Just pull the hem of her skirt up, back her against the wall, and bury himself in her sweet heat.
Mat broke the kiss, his breathing coming in harsh gasps as he pulled away. Disappointment flashed in her amber eyes, only to be replaced by surprise when he bent down and wrapped one arm behind her legs. Her hands dug into his shoulders, the backpack hitting him in the side again when he lifted her.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was just above a whisper, all husky and smoky, spilling over him like a smooth whiskey. He grinned down at her, glad to see that their kisses had the same effect on her as they did on him.
“I’m carrying you upstairs.”
Her hands tightened their grip on his shoulders and her mouth opened into a small O of surprise. She shouldn’t be surprised, though, not when he was already halfway up the stairs, not when it should be obvious what he was doing.
His eyes never left hers as he carried her into the bedroom, over to the large bed. Gently, carefully, he lowered her to the mattress, his fingers sliding along the backs of her legs, caressing.
Then he kneeled next to her on the bed and leaned forward, pressed his lips against hers, hesitant and slow. He wanted to devour her in every way imaginable. But not yet. No, he wanted to seduce her first. Tease her, taste her. Make her weak with desire, mindless with need. Except she deepened the kiss, her hands drifting down along his chest to the hem of his shirt. His skin burned everywhere she touched, causing the breath to hitch in his chest, causing his lungs to burn.
She eased his shirt up, breaking the hungry kiss long enough to pull it over his head and toss it on the floor. She pushed to her knees, facing him, her chest pressed against his, her hips searching. She moaned and pressed herself more tightly against him, against the rock hard length of his cock. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to throw her on her back and drive into her, to lose himself in her warm body.
He dragged his hands along her back, down to her ass, lower, until he touched bare skin. Christ, her skin was so soft, like silk. Mat ached to touch every inch of her, taste every inch of her.
His hands drifted up, under her skirt to skim her ass, bare except for a tiny wisp of lace that barely covered her. He groaned, the sound loss in the melding of their mouths, their tongues.
He wanted her. Needed her. Now.
No, not yet. He wanted this to be more than just a hurried romp, more than a stolen moment. He broke the kiss and dragged his lips across her cheek, to her ear, nibbling. Along the graceful lines of her neck, to that spot where it met her shoulder. Nicole gasped and her head fell back, her hair coming undone and falling across his arm, the soft strands teasing his skin.
“Mat—”
He silenced her plea with a kiss, swallowing her soft cry as he tilted his hips, letting her know exactly how much he wanted her. She rested her hands on his bare shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh as he kissed and licked. Too many clothes, too many boundaries.
He moved his hand up her side, up and around so he could ease her jacket off, careful to not hit her arm where she hurt it. The shirt came next as he slowly eased it up, his thumbs grazing her skin, teasing her nipples through the lacy material of her bra before pulling the shirt over her head.
Mat leaned back, his eyes studying her, drinking her in. From the fall of hair around her shoulders to the graceful lines and curves of her beautiful breasts. From the shadows of the tattoos on her arm, barely visible in the light coming from the hall, to the indentation of her waist and the flare of her hips. He wanted it all. He wanted her.
He licked his lips and met her gaze, saw the passion glazing them and knew his own eyes would look the same. “You’re so beautiful.”
She shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, but Mat pressed a finger against her lips, silencing her. “Yes, you are. You’re beautiful.”
Then he kissed her. Not a gentle, hesitant kiss meant to reassure but a deep kiss, meant to seduce. Possessing, claiming. Showing her without words what he wanted, what he thought. He eased back on the bed, pulling her down on top of him, his hand splayed along her back. His elbow knocked into something and there was a sudden bounce followed by a thud. He ignored it, not caring what it was, caring only about the woman in his arms.
But Nicole stiffened and pulled
away, scrambled over him to lean over the edge of the bed. And Christ, she was straddling him, her hips pressed against his rock hard cock. If he had been fully naked, if he didn’t still have his shorts on, all he’d have to do—
Nicole straightened, the backpack in her hands and a frown on her face as she unzipped it and dug through it. Fuck. The thud had been her backpack hitting the floor. He wanted to tell her to leave it, wanted to tell her that it wasn’t important. But the expression on her face—worry, anxiety—told him that it was important. To her.
He propped himself on his elbows and watched as she dug through the bag. “Everything okay?”
“My camera.” She pulled the camera out then placed the bag on the bed next to them. Mat could feel her anxiety now, pulsing through her as she held it up to her face, trying to examine it in the near-darkness.
He shifted, one hand on her hip, holding her in place as he leaned over and hit the switch on the bedside lamp. Soft light fell over them, not enough to illuminate the entire room but enough that she would be able to see.
Nicole sat back, her firm and mostly bare ass now pressed tight against his erection. But she didn’t seem to notice, not when she was studying the camera, turning it this way and that. She turned it on and looked through the view finder then made some adjustments. He heard her sigh, felt some of the tension leave her body.
“Everything okay?”
She finally looked at him, a relieved smile on her face. “Yeah, I think so.”
He sat up and wrapped his hands around her hips, holding her in place. He tried to tell himself it was so she wouldn’t tumble off the bed when he moved. “Are you sure? Did you need to take a few pictures to check?”
A playful glint lit her eyes and tugged at the corners of her full mouth. Before Mat realized what she was doing, she lifted the camera and snapped a series of pictures. His mouth dropped open and he leaned back.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Taking a few pictures like you said.” She lowered the camera, her gaze fixed on whatever was showing on the small review screen.
Shoot Out (The Baltimore Banners Book 7) Page 13