by Noelle Adams
A few of them were all right, but none of them were worth the money.
So they went to another store. This time, one dress in particular caught Carrie’s eye. It was cocktail length with an uneven, retro hemline. It was black, which she thought would be quite versatile, and it seemed to suit her style.
She grabbed one in her size and turned to Matt, but he had strolled to another rack of dresses.
“I found it,” she declared. “No need to look any further.”
Matt glanced over at the dress she held and shook his head. “No. This one will be better.”
He showed her a deep red dress.
She frowned. “Are you kidding? I’m not going to buy a dress that so Christmas-y.”
“Why not?”
“Because I could only wear it at Christmas.”
“You can wear red at other times.”
“It’s too Christmas-y.”
“Try it on,” he insisted. “You’ll see.”
She huffed but didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth the effort, since she knew the black dress would be perfect. She took both dresses into the otherwise empty dressing room.
When Matt acted like he was going to walk into the stall with her, she closed the door on his face.
She couldn’t help but giggle at his startled grunt.
She pulled off her jeans and top and pulled on the red dress first. It was a gorgeous color, but there was no way it wasn’t going to look Christmas-y.
As soon as the skirt slid down over her legs, she started to rethink her first impression. The fit was clingy, almost slinky, and it caressed her curves provocatively. And the red was perfect against her skin and dark hair and eyes.
But the stupid thing was supposed to look vintage and had buttons in the back. She growled as she reached behind to do them up. After a minute, she gritted out, “Matt.”
“Buttons?”
She opened the door with a narrowed-eyed glare, which made him chuckle as he came in and shut the door behind him.
“Told you,” he murmured, as his eyes skimmed over her figure.
“It’s impossible to tell whether or not the dress will look good,” she lied, “until I get these damned buttons done.”
“Well, I can take care of that.”
He buttoned them, his fingers grazing her skin with what she thought was unnecessary frequency.
He was smiling when he finished. When Carrie stared at herself in the mirror, she knew why.
The dress was absolutely perfect. She’d never looked more beautiful in any dress in her life.
She swallowed, hating to admit Matt was right when he was already so smug about it. “Not bad,” she said blandly. “Unbutton me so I can try on the black one.”
Still looking amused, Matt started on the buttons. The activity took far longer than it should have. This time, it was obvious that his fingers lingered, and then he started to press kisses against the bare skin on her back as he parted the fabric.
“Matt,” she gasped, as one of his hands slid forward to cup her breast. “What are you doing?”
“This,” he murmured thickly, fondling the nipple that had tightened visibly beneath the fabric, “is a very good dress.”
Desire washed over her so intensely that her knees felt weak, and she turned around, grabbing fistfuls of Matt’s shirt to support herself.
Matt brushed a light kiss against her lips. “Admit it. You want this dress.”
His challenge renewed Carrie’s willpower, and she pulled away. “I haven’t even tried on the other one yet.”
“Right.” He leaned against the wall with a superior smile and watched with interest as she carefully slipped out of the dress, stripping down to her bra and panties, and then pulled the second dress over her head.
The black dress had a zipper, and Carrie had no trouble fastening it. The dress was good—flattering and kind of quirky, which she liked.
But it wasn’t as good as the red dress.
“I don’t know,” she said, brazenly pretending to be torn about the decision. “They’re both good.”
“Uh-huh,” Matt murmured skeptically, turning her around and taking the zipper between his finger and thumb. “Shall I help you off with this one too?”
“Why not?” She tried to sound blasé but was almost shaking with excitement. Her body pulsed with heat, and an erotic pressure had built between her legs.
Matt slowly edged down the zipper, giving her sensual ministrations as he undressed her. Before the dress was halfway down, Carrie had flattened both of her hands against the wall, bending slightly at the waist to brace herself. She wasn’t sure her legs could hold out against the desire overwhelming her.
Matt’s lips were mouthing the back of her neck. One of his hands was fondling her breast, and the other had dipped under her skirt to explore between her legs.
Finally, when she felt an orgasm start to form, Carrie realized they’d better stop while they could. “Matt,” she gasped. “I’ll buy the dress and then we can go somewhere—” Her words were cut off as Matt started to massage her through the fabric of her panties.
“Damn it,” she choked, unconsciously grinding her groin against his hand. “How dare you get me all hot and bothered in a dressing room, when there’s nothing we can do about it?”
“What do you mean?” he murmured. “Why shouldn’t we?”
She gasped, from both surprise and pleasure. “What? What?”
“Turn around, Carrie.” The words were low, irresistible.
She turned around, flattening her back against the wall. Matt was so close she could feel the heat of his body pulsing between them. He kissed her hard and deep, and then he slid his hands down over the black dress, following the descent of his hands with the rest of his body as he knelt down onto the floor.
She gaped at him. “What?”
He gave her a predatory smile and ran his hands up her bare legs, pushing her skirt up as he did. She clutched at the fabric automatically when it was bunched up at her waist. And she widened her stance at Matt’s urging. He slid down her panties.
“Are you really—?” A sharp inhalation broke off her question.
Matt had just tongued her.
As she stared down at him, he nuzzled, opening her more so he could better please her.
Carrie pressed back against the wall hard as the stimulation sent waves of pleasure through her body. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Someone will hear.”
“There’s no one in here but us,” Matt murmured, the vibrations from his voice intensifying the sensations.
He worked her over with his mouth, sucking with his lips, twirling and thrusting with his tongue, and grazing with his teeth until she was shaking uncontrollably and mumbling out pleas for release.
She clutched at his head with one hand and the skirt of the dress with the other. She used the wall for balance as she writhed against his mouth.
A faint sound of a shopper from outside the dressing room drove home the reality of their public location. She gave a little sob and dug her fingernails into the back of Matt’s neck.
She could see them in the full-length mirror across from her. She was flushed, disheveled and half-dressed—with Matt kneeling on the floor with his head between her thighs.
It was such a shamelessly provocative image that Carrie bit her lip over a helpless sound.
She resisted her impending climax, self-conscious about losing control so completely in such a location. But Matt’s mouth was too skillful, and he knew her body too well. She stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle the sound of her climax as her hips jerked hard against Matt’s mouth.
When he finally pulled away, she nearly slid to the floor.
He stood up, using his body to brace hers against the wall. “How was that?” he asked. His mouth was wet with her moisture, and his body was so tight it nearly shook.
“Not bad,” she managed to say, her knees buckling again as occasional tremors from her climax ran through her.
He was obviously aroused, his hard arousal pressing insistently into her middle. She tore her mouth away, gasping for air and feeling beads of perspiration run in rivulets down her back and between her breasts.
“For once, you didn’t think ahead,” she said unevenly. “Now you’re all turned on with no means of satisfaction.” She pressed her hand against the bulge in his jeans for good measure.
He grunted at her caress. “Yeah. I didn’t think ahead very far. Unless—”
She never knew what alternative he would have offered because she kept massaging him until his body tightened palpably, and he stifled a groan of release.
Then she stepped back, feeling ridiculously proud of herself for making him lose it that way.
When he saw her expression, he narrowed his eyes—although his face was flushed and replete. “Don’t say it,” he warned.
She felt a swell of affection. Couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him in a hug.
He hugged her back, and her chest began to ache as his arms tightened. She half-expected the embrace to turn sexual again, but it didn’t.
She felt awkward and confused when she finally pulled away. She smoothed out the wrinkled black dress. “I think I’d better buy this one, after the uses we put it to.” She pushed past the strange feelings. “It’s on sale anyway, so it works better with my budget.”
He nodded toward the red dress, hanging neatly on a hook. “Then I’m going to buy you this one.” When she opened her mouth to object, he went on, “No arguments.”
She shrugged, figuring he could afford it and she could consider it a Christmas gift. “All right. I’ll get both.”
As Carrie got dressed into her street clothes, she said, “Now there’s no way you can argue that we’re having a sleazy affair.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s obviously a sleazy affair when we can’t even go shopping without having sex in the dressing room. With us, it’s always all about the sex.” She was saying the words mostly to remind herself, since she didn’t really like the sound of them.
Matt’s face looked strange for a moment, but a teasing smile appeared before she could identify the other expression. “If I’d known you would use it to define our entire relationship, I would have resisted the way you came on to me just now.”
She sputtered. “Hey! You came on to me!”
“Whatever you say.”
She glared but decided not to dignify his blatant lie with a response. She slipped out of the stall, feeling raunchy and rather embarrassed at having done what they’d done in a dressing room.
Matt, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed. He blithely presented the dresses to a cashier and handed the woman a credit card to pay for them.
Carrie was too distracted to even notice that he was paying for both of them. She felt like everyone who walked by must know what she’d been up to.
When she glanced over at Matt, she saw him smiling at her with an expression that now looked almost tender.
“What is it?” she asked self-consciously.
“I love it when you look like this,” he murmured, a possessive gleam in his eyes.
Carrie knew exactly what he was talking about. She raised her palm to one of her cheeks.
It was hot.
Four
Carrie twirled in front of her mirror, scanning over her body in the red dress. She looked fabulous, the slinky fabric skimming the contours of her figure and the elegant color making her skin and eyes look vibrant.
She’d twisted her hair up in a clip and slipped on her best pair of heels, so she was all ready to go.
But she didn’t really want to.
She felt sad and sick and lonely. A little part of her wanted Henry. But even more of her wanted Matt.
This truth made her confused and guilty and almost paralyzed with anxiety about what she’d gotten herself into, but she pushed the tangled feelings away.
She gave herself a pep talk, telling herself that Jenn and her boyfriend would be at the party, so she could at least talk to them. She didn’t have to stay long. She would make an appearance and make sure her family knew she was all right. Then she could leave.
So she blew out a breath and picked up her clutch before she headed down to the street to hail a taxi.
She’d just stepped out of the building when a chauffeured car pulled up to the curb.
Carrie stared, her mouth falling open.
She was still gaping when a window rolled down in the backseat and Matt’s familiar, scarred head appeared over the descending tinted glass. “Very nice,” he drawled, evidently hiding a smile as his eyes lingered on her body.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, when she finally found her voice.
“Do you want a ride?”
Carrie mindlessly got into the car when he opened the door, feeling flustered and bewildered. “What are you doing here?” she repeated, after she gave the driver the address.
Matt smiled, looking both amused and something she could only describe as fond. “I thought you might want an escort.” He was dressed, she noticed belatedly, in a black suit. She’d never seen him in a suit before.
“But—”
“If not, I can just drop you off.”
“But—”
“You look gorgeous, by the way. The dress was definitely a wise investment on my part.”
Carrie flushed a little more at the flare of heat in his eyes. “Thank you. But, Matt, are you serious? You want to come to the party with me?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Why not? I haven’t gone to a party in two years, and I could use some holiday spirit.”
“So you’re going to be my date tonight?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around the inexplicable idea.
“If you’ll have me.” There was something strange in his eyes—almost like vulnerability.
She swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’ll have you.”
Matt smiled, and Carrie smiled back. Then she looked around the expensive car. “So you couldn’t even spring for a limo?”
He laughed warmly, uninhibitedly, the way he hardly ever did. She loved the sound of it.
When they reached her aunt’s place, she was feeling ridiculously happy—the tangled confusion crammed tightly into a safe corner of her mind. As she was getting out of the car, however, she felt a clench of anxiety.
“Are you sure it’s all right?” she asked, grabbing his arm. “Someone might recognize you, and then there might be stories about Matthew Lynch—”
Matt shrugged with a half-smile. “So there might be stories. It’s no big deal.”
“And you know they’re all going to think… I mean, I haven’t dated anyone for a year, so they’re going to think that my bringing you here means—”
“I couldn’t care less what they think. If you want, tell them you dug me up just for someone to bring to the party.”
For some reason, his dry tone made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“Nothing. It’s just that you’re not exactly the kind of guy a girl would just dig up for an acceptable date to a family party.” Matt was more like dream-date material. She never would have had the courage to ask him out had she run into him in any normal way.
“What does that mean?” To her surprise, he actually sounded offended. “I can be an acceptable date.”
“What are you getting all grouchy about? I just meant you’re too good to be dug up from the bottom of the heap.”
“Oh.” His expression relaxed. “That’s all right then.”
She couldn’t help but giggle again at his quickly changing emotions. He was definitely an artist. “Now you’re all pleased with yourself again. I’ve never met a man with such pomposity.”
He slid his hand down her spine and kept it at the small of her back as he walked with her to the front door. �
��What did you say I have?”
“Pomposity.”
“I’m not sure that’s really a word.”
“Of course it is. It’s the state of being pompous. Look it up. The dictionary will cross-list the word with ‘Matthew Lynch’.”
He was still chuckling as they entered.
Carrie didn’t know what she expected, but their entrance wasn’t dramatic or remarkable. They were greeted by her aunt. When Matt introduced himself as “Matt,” her aunt didn’t even blink, although the look on her face made it clear that she would be calling Carrie’s mom with this news the first free moment she had.
Jenn and her boyfriend hadn’t yet arrived, so they mingled for a while with other guests. Most of them were a lot older than Carrie and Matt, so they didn’t have much in common. After about an hour, Carrie started to get bored and restless. They’d made the rounds, and her sister still hadn’t shown up.
Matt slipped an arm around her waist. “Ready to go?” he murmured into her ear. He smelled faintly of red wine, a top note to his characteristic warm scent.
“Yes, please.” She was grateful he’d read her mind. “Let’s slip out before we get trapped in another conversation about the stock market.”
They went to thank her aunt, and she let out a long breath as they left. It was cooler now than it had been a week ago, but it was still unseasonably warm for December. She could feel a little trail of perspiration start to bead between her shoulder blades.
“All right?” Matt asked, his eyes resting thoughtfully on her face.
She wasn’t sure what he was asking, but her answer was the same to any question. “Yeah. Just hungry.” The cocktail nibbles at the party had been tasty but not nearly enough.
“Then let’s get some dinner.” Matt stepped over to open the back door to the car the waiting driver had just pulled up to the curb.
Carrie had no objection to such a plan, and she didn’t even ask herself why he’d suggested it. They’d never gone out for dinner before, but it seemed a natural thing to do tonight.
And she wasn’t quite ready for the evening to end.