She began to move in a more rapid pace, her breath coming in short pants. Matt held her tight. “That’s it. Come for me."
At his words, she let out a small shriek and began to shake over her entire body. He felt her fingernails dig into his shoulders as her every extremity convulsed in a spasm. He moved his thumb more rapidly, more urgently, as she lowered her head and pressed her forehead against his. Their breath intermingled and their eyes were laser locked on each other as Matt felt the orgasm shaking Amy's entire being. Her slick walls pulsed and trembled all down his hard length and it made him grow even harder, a phenomenon he would not have thought possible. He would not have thought that the laws of physics would have allowed such a thing.
"Oh, Matt," Amy whimpered. “I am, I'm coming.”
Matt groaned at her words. He felt an impulse to close his eyes, but he resisted. He did not want to miss even one instant of this. "I feel it, baby,” he whispered back to her. “I feel it and it's amazing.”
Just as he was able to feel the orgasm building inside of her and then crashing through her, he was also able to feel and sense when it was subsiding. Her muscles quieted, as did her whimpers and cries, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, panting and holding him with her arms and legs, which were still wrapped around him.
While she was still rubbery-limbed and pliable, he quickly flipped her over on her back, planting his knees between her spread legs, still inside her the entire time. Her eyes widened at his quick and decisive maneuver and she laughed with delight. This sound sent a devilishly shivery sensation through the length of his body. He did not think he had ever in his life heard a sound that was as musical and playful as Amy's laugh was. It never failed to excite him. But more than that, it never failed to make him feel warm and comforted, like home.
Lowering his head to hers, Matt captured her lips again, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth, absorbing her essence into his very cells. What started out as slow and exploratory turned fevered with a rapidly increasing fiery intensity. As the kiss deepened, he began to move his hips so that he was pumping in and out of her, slowly and gently at first, and then with a ferocity that actually surprised him. Apparently, it surprised her as well because her eyes widened and she gasped as his pace increased.
He was just about to slow his thrusting and ask her if she was okay, if he was hurting her, when he got his answer without having to even ask the question. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled herself up closer to his ear and whispered softly, "Yes, Matt! Oh, yes...harder...faster... It's so good!”
He smiled, feeling instantly relieved that he hadn’t hurt her. She wanted harder and faster, well… He could do that.
Shutting his eyes to further concentrate on all of the things he was feeling within his own body, he found that the escalation of sensation went very quickly after that. All of the sensory input he was receiving from all over his body—the rough scratching of her fingernails on his back, the hot cushioning of her inner walls as he drove into her, the sound of her calling out his name hitting his ear—all conspired to melt into one giant sensation that sent him crashing over the edge of orgasm. He came in a frantic rush, grunting out her name as he convulsed uncontrollably in a jarring, pulsing climax. He wasn't aware of anything in the world besides her scent, her feel, her sounds.
His head still spinning, he collapsed atop her, completely spent and utterly satisfied. It was not until he had been lying that way for several minutes that it occurred to him, all in a rush, that he was probably crushing her.
He rolled off of her quickly, slipping his arm underneath her and pulling her with him as he went. When she was once again atop him, she snuggled into him, draping her leg across his torso and nestling her head into the crook of his neck where it met his shoulder.
Matt felt completely and totally happy and content at that moment, and he could not imagine that he would ever need or want anything else besides this—what they were sharing here together, in this room, in this bed.
He couldn't imagine it, that is, until he slowly became aware of another scent permeating the air.
Baked chicken.
He smiled. He had been so hungry for something besides food after seeing her in that low-cut sweater and those high boots—so hot it should be illegal—that he had swooped her right back here to the bedroom, bypassing dinner.
Just then, the sound of a growling stomach filled the room, and they both laughed.
“Was that you or me?” Amy giggled.
“I don't know, but can I take the fact that you asked me that as evidence that you are just as hungry as I am?” He grinned.
“Starved,” she agreed.
“Then let's eat,” Matt enthused, swatting her backside playfully.
Amy jumped up out of bed, unselfconsciously naked in a way that he found incredibly appealing, and said mischievously, “Race you!”
She took off out of the bedroom and down the hall, and as Matt chased her, marveling at how beautiful her naked body looked in motion, he suddenly realized that maybe, yet again, the chicken could wait.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Matt walked through the door at JT's Roadhouse about a mile outside of town. The teachers were all meeting for their annual ‘night out on the town.’ Matt was looking forward to seeing his colleagues out of their natural habitat, i.e., school. He’d heard that things could get pretty wild when this group cut loose. Matt needed to see it to believe it. He paused at the door and scanned the room to find his group.
It wasn't hard.
In a bar full of outdoorsy, blue-collar locals, the group of teachers sitting at two tables pushed together in the corner was extremely noticeable.
There was Art Gardine, in one of his patented Birkenstocks, corduroys, plaid-flannel-shirt ensembles, his wispy grey hair making him look like what Einstein might have if Einstein were an aging flower child.
Next to him, their heads bent in furious conversation, was Autumn Canela, the flamboyantly attired art teacher. Today, along with her flowing peasant skirt and blouse, she had chosen to wear a complex arrangement of scarves. The brightly colored scarves were tied on anywhere Matt would imagine a scarf could be tied on a person—her head, her neck, her wrists, her waist. As usual, she was a sheer visual wonder to behold.
Sitting awkwardly next to Autumn was Andy Sternhagen, the nerdy science teacher who was obviously supremely uncomfortable in the middle of such a crowd. He glanced up every once in a while, but the majority of his attention was focused on the screen of his tablet computer.
Then...wow. Then there was Amy. Matt couldn't even find the words to describe her in his mind. Radiant. Beautiful. Visibly intelligent. Hilarious. Quick-witted. Kind. Sensitive. Giving. Perfect.
Matt shook his head. This had gone far beyond just taking a little mental stock of the people sitting at the table before heading over there. He was entering dangerous territory. Time to go sit down.
Matt slid smoothly into the open chair next to Amy, and she looked over at him delightedly.
“Saved ya a seat,” she whispered, and he recognized that she was parroting back to him the comment he had tossed at her at the beginning of their first staff meeting together. He felt a rush of heat wash over him, moving from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet.
He leaned down to give her a small, affectionate peck on the cheek, but she stopped him with a discreet but intense shake of her head, accompanied with a widening of her eyes. He got the message immediately. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. He hadn’t been—that was the problem. When Amy was around, it was like his brain short-circuited.
Matt turned to Andy, thinking that involving a third person in their conversation would be the perfect distraction. "Hey, Andy. What are you looking at there?”
Andy looked up and shook his head as if what he were about to say was so old-hat that he couldn't believe he was even going to have to articulate it. "Oh, the same old argument. It's always the same old argument. Who is the
best Doctor.”
Amy looked puzzled. “Well, we only have the one doctor here in Hope Falls...”
Andy looked taken aback and then suspicious, as if he couldn't tell if he was being put on or not. "No…" he said slowly before changing tactics. "I mean...Doctor Who.”
Amy smiled, clearly happy to be of help. “Dr. Bracknell,” she exclaimed happily, “He's been my doctor since I was born. If you need a referral, I can give him a call for you.”
Andy looked at her as if he was pretty sure she was making fun of him now and then went back to his tablet.
Amy looked up at Matt in consternation. “What did I say wrong?” she asked, concern in her voice.
Matt couldn't believe how great she was. Rather than meeting Andy's abrupt and socially awkward conversational overtures with irritation, she was actually concerned that the gaff had been her fault!
“Nothing,” Matt chuckled. “Doctor Who is a long-running science fiction TV show. The main character is The Doctor. He’s been played by a lot of different actors over the years, and there is ongoing debate in the fan community about which of them was the best. Kind of like how people debate who the best Bond is.”
“Yeah. Right,” Andy said distractedly without looking up, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if he had just agreed with Matt explaining to a child that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
Amy looked at Andy and then back at Matt, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I don't know whether to be impressed that you know that or terrified,” she confessed.
Matt smiled. He couldn’t help himself when Amy was around. “If those are the choices, let's just go with impressed,” he suggested.
“Done,” she agreed.
“So, I can see you're not into science fiction. Tell me what you do like. Well…” He lowered his voice and said silkily, “I know some of the things you like...”
“Stop,” she whispered in a low voice, although there was a small smile playing at her lips and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure. “Not here. You're so bad.” She shook her head.
“I can be,” he grinned and winked.
She straightened up and, clearly trying to get the conversation back on less dangerous ground, raised her voice back to normal levels. “I like mysteries and thrillers, for both books and movies. And comedies. I love comedies. I'm not such a big horror fan. What about you? What are you a fan of?”
He gave her a small sideways smile and said sincerely, “You. I'm a huge fan of you.”
--- ~ ----
Amy felt her face flushing and her throat becoming tight. She didn't know what to do with the rush of feelings that Matt's flirting was bringing up in her. She had to get him to back off of the whole thing or she was going to —wow, she didn't even know what—in front of all of her colleagues. Explode? Melt?
Sure, those might sound hyperbolic, she thought, but they felt like they might really come true. They felt like they could be serious, realistic possibilities right now.
Taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth to calm herself, Amy knew she needed to take control of the conversation here before things got out of hand. She was not planning on letting her hormones get the better of her, especially not in front of all of the other teachers, and Matt's innuendos were certainly not helping that cause.
The only problem with her plan to regain control of the situation was, well...she had no idea how to do that.
As luck would have it, though, fate intervened at that moment in the form of Levi, the new owner-slash-bartender of JT's, bringing over a pitcher of beer and mugs, which he deftly distributed to the table.
God, thought Amy, I wish I was only half as adept with my words as he is with those glasses. Then I would have no trouble at all.
As it stood, she was still the middle of her dilemma, but at least the service had given her a few seconds to catch her breath and think.
As beer was poured into the mugs and the mugs were passed around the table, Andy Sternhagen said, “An interesting fact about beer is that the use of hops in the brewing process is a relatively recent phenomenon, relative to the overall history of beer. In fact, before the popularity of hops, brewers used all kinds of things to preserve the flavor of beer—herbs, spices...even flowers and pine needles. I think that drinking pine-needle flavored beer here in Hope Falls would be quite appropriate, actually.”
Art Gardine said, “I think what is more interesting is the plight of all of the workers who harvested the barley needed to make this beer and all of the workers who were no doubt exploited during its production.”
Amy did notice that his convictions did not in any way keep him from taking a healthy swig of the brew immediately after his mini-speech, however.
Suddenly, she felt Matt's hot breath on her ear. She heard him whisper in a low voice that only she could hear, “I think the most interesting thing about it is how relaxed it's going to make me feel. Which may be a problem with me sitting next to you. Want to get together later? If I have that to focus on, maybe I can control myself.”
Amy smiled weakly at him. Of course she wanted to get together with him later. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that she didn't know how much longer she could keep up this charade in front of everyone they knew, this pretense of just being friends.
Well, to be more accurate, she admitted to herself, I don't know whether it's that I don't know how long I can keep it up or I don't know how much longer I want to.
Amy was not the sort of person who thrived on having some sort of secret life. When she had envisioned having this private relationship with Matt, she had initially imagined a scenario where it would not affect anyone else—this was purely a project to improve herself.
And to be completely fair, that was exactly how it had been in the beginning. However, that had quickly changed. The two experiences she had now had where she had had to lie to her sister's face had begun the souring process, and now this experience tonight was continuing it. She didn't like having to act like Matt was some secret to her, or that she was somehow a secret to him.
Nikki’s words echoed in her mind, replaying over and over, reminding her that she deserved someone who would make her his number one priority, who would be proud to be in a relationship with her, who would be not only willing but actually eager to commit to her one hundred percent and—this was the most important factor right here—who loved her more than anyone else.
Amy saw it now. She saw everything clearly. She had agreed to a casual, discrete, no-strings-attached situation because of the simple fact that she hadn’t understood the depth of her own feelings. She'd not had enough experience or perspective to understand how strong her feelings had been before they'd even slept with each other, and she definitely had not had enough experience or perspective to understand how significantly they would deepen once she and Matt had made love.
A more worldly person would probably have seen exactly where this had been headed, but Amy was not that person. She was completely caught off guard and blindsided by what she now realized—and what she now had to take action on.
She didn’t just have a crush on Matt. She was in love with Matt.
That fact was as obvious to her now as the color of the sky or the nose on her face. She didn't know how she hadn't seen it before, but now she could see nothing else.
If the point of this experiment was to get to know herself better and begin to expand her horizons by having new experiences she’d never had before, then she could certainly consider this mission accomplished. What she now knew about herself was that she was in love with Matt Kellan. What she also knew was that she couldn’t bear this relationship-not-a-relationship limbo anymore. Not with someone she was in love with. Amy knew now that she just wasn’t built that way.
As for brand new experiences? Well, being in love—that was one. That was certainly a first. But there was another one that she was just about to find out about, and she wasn't looking forward to it, not on
e little bit. Still, she knew what she had to do, and she knew she didn't have a choice. She had to break things off with Matt. She just couldn't go on like this.
Amy smiled up at him and sighed, “I’m actually not feeling that well. I’m going to head home.”
Concern immediately clouded his handsome face. He began to stand. “Okay I’ll drive you,”
“No.” She placed her hand on his forearm and he sat back down. Oh boy, his forearms. She was going to miss those forearms. She took in a shaky breath, whispering, “I’m fine. It would look bad if we left together.”
Matt searched her eyes, confusion still written all over his face.
“Please,” she pleaded as emotion welled inside of her. This was so much harder than she’d ever dreamed of. She tried desperately to put on a brave face. “I’m fine, really.”
With that, she stood and strode purposefully across the floor. She could feel Matt’s worried gaze fixed on her back as tears began to stream down her face. Amy Maguire began to feel the ragged beginnings of her very first broken heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sitting outside Matt’s house at six thirty in the morning, the heater blasting on her face, Amy tried to blow the tears forming in her eyes dry. When that didn’t work, she brought her sleeve to face and wiped them as she shook her head and took a deep breath. This was not the way she wanted Matt to see her, so she needed to pull herself together.
The bright morning sun shone through the trees in his front yard, causing the newly fallen snow to shimmer. There was so much beauty surrounding her, yet she couldn’t stop her heart from hurting. Amy knew that what she was about to do was the right thing. She couldn’t risk falling deeper in love with Matt than she already was.
After last night, she was convinced that she had not guarded her heart like she had planned. She loved Matt Kellan. And logically, if she was just following her original plan, then this phase would be over. She’d experienced passion that she didn’t even know was possible and so much more. Time to move on.
Snow Days (The Hope Falls Series) Page 22