by Sarina Bowen
“G’night, Hailey,” they both chime.
“Night, girls. It was fun scaring your daddy earlier.”
They giggle, but Matt gives me the side-eye for that. Apparently it’s fine for a bossy, alpha male to admit his fear of heights, but only once a day. Matt herds them into their room and reappears a few minutes later.
“I should go,” I say reluctantly, rising off the couch.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Like hell you should. This is the perfect evening—all my favorite females under one roof.” He kisses my forehead and I feel the warmth trickle through me. “Besides. You just survived seven hours at the Eriksson circus. Now you win a glass of wine and a snuggle on the couch.”
I fold like a bad hand of poker. Five minutes later I’m sipping cabernet and watching the highlight reel of the Pittsburgh/Montreal game.
Five minutes after that, we’re making out like a pair of teenagers right before curfew. Matt’s hand is up my shirt, his thumb circling my nipple through the lace of my bra. His muscular thigh parts my legs, and my body practically bursts into flames. I swear I hear the same whoosh sound as when the heat kicks on in my apartment. I’m stroking his pecs and rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
He catches both my wrists in one of his big hands and lifts them over my head, pinning my hands to the arm of the couch. Then his mouth lands, hot and determined, on my neck. Whoosh, again. Firm, generous lips begin to suck at my skin. Whooshity-whoosh. I’m turning to a liquid right here on the sofa.
In front of all of Toronto.
While his daughters fall asleep a few feet away.
“Matt,” I pant, lifting my chin. “We have to stop.”
His hand releases immediately, and I lose his hot mouth on my neck. “Sorry,” he gasps. “Thought you were into it.”
“Mmmm,” I agree, trying to get a grip on myself. “But…your girls.”
His thumb circles my nipple again. I knew there was a reason I’d spent my life lusting after hockey players. Matt is really good with his hands. “Hottie,” he says, his breath ghosting over my jaw. He pauses to kiss that spot, and I shiver. “My bedroom door has a lock. Let’s go use it.”
“You sure?”
Instead of answering me, he stands up and shuts off the TV. Then he tugs me off the couch. Leaning in, he murmurs in my ear. “We’ll be very quiet, okay?”
I nod to show him I understand the need for silence.
“Walk slowly into my bedroom.” His whisper is a hot hiss in my ear. “Then take off your top and your jeans. Wait for me beside the bed.”
A shiver runs through me as I nod again. He pinches my butt and tips his head toward the bedroom, getting me moving in that direction in a big hurry.
His bedroom looks different in the dark with the lights of Toronto shining in, bathing the white comforter in silvery light. There’s no chance that anyone could spy on us in the darkened bedroom. But it still feels risqué to strip out of my top in front of his windows. There are other apartments lit up throughout the neighborhood. Other Saturday nights in play.
None of them is as great as mine.
The door clicks shut as my jeans drop to the floor. Hands land on my shoulders and turn me around to face his sexy smile in the dark. He lifts his eyebrows and then points at the buttons of his shirt.
It takes me only a split second to understand that I’m the one who’s supposed to undo them. My hands rush to do this task. He’s warm and solid under my hands as I quickly flick the buttons apart. As soon as I’ve revealed a portion of his chest, I have to lean in and kiss it. The only sound is his sharp intake of breath when my tongue finds his smooth skin. Two hands give my ass a squeeze that’s full of expectation.
There are so many whooshes now I lose count.
Somehow I strip him out of that shirt, my eager fingers moving to his fly. “That’s it,” he breathes into my ear as his pants fall away. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my panties and drops them to the floor. Then he does the same to his briefs. “Now turn around.”
I expect him to nudge me onto the bed, but he doesn’t do it. He just clasps me there, my back to his front, his erection pressed possessively against my lower back. His hand flicks my bra clasp open, and now I’m completely naked. A gasp escapes my lips as his hands slide across my skin, waking every nerve ending and making it sing. One arm clamps across my body, his roughened palm holding my breast. The other palm skates down to my core, cupping me.
His shameless fingers dip between my legs and I bite my lip, eyes squeezed shut, as he discovers how wet I already am for him. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, and I sink down against his hand, my head falling back against his shoulder. I can’t help myself. In this room, I’m a different Hailey, the kind whose hips move in time with his strokes. Modesty be damned.
“Look,” he orders so silently that the “k” is almost the only sound I hear.
My eyes flip open to see our reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. The light is dim, but there’s no mistaking my pale, bare skin. His strong arms stripe across my body. I can’t decide which one is sexier—the one that’s gripping me possessively across the chest, or the big hand working me over below, the tendons flexing in his wrist.
My gasp is loud. Too loud. And his upper hand has to give up my breast to clamp across my mouth. My moan is dampened by his hand, thank God.
This man is going to ruin me.
Matt
Damn she’s amazing.
Getting Hottie hotter is my favorite thing in the world. I’ve blasted the doors off her comfort zone, and the reward is the panting, sexy woman in my arms. It’s beautiful to watch her throw away her inhibitions and relax against me, her body supple and willing.
She has no idea how much this means to me. I’ve spent the last year and change believing myself unfit to be anyone’s partner. And maybe it’s true. But by spending her day with me—and her night—Hailey lets me believe I’m not a lost cause, that my messy life is worth sharing, at least when I can manage it.
Now it’s my turn to show her how sexy she really is. Helping her feel that is the best thing ever.
My dick is as hard as the CN Tower statuettes we saw in the gift shop a few hours ago, but I let this moment linger, teasing her pussy with my fingers, kissing her neck. When I can’t take the anticipation anymore, I guide her to the side of the bed, but not onto it. Instead, I nudge her onto her knees on the rug beside the bed. I place each of her arms onto the mattress, palms down. “Don’t move,” I whisper.
She lays a cheek on the cotton comforter and takes a deep, steadying breath as I grab a condom out of the nightstand. I roll it on in a big fat hurry. But then I take an extra second to adjust the closet door a few inches, leaving it ajar, the mirror aimed at the place where Hailey leans over my bed.
When I sink down behind her, I run my hands over her silky back, cupping her ass cheeks. I nudge her knees further apart. “You ready for me?” I ask. But I know she is.
Hailey nods eagerly, eyeing me over her shoulder.
I lift her hips gently, tucking my cock beneath her body. When I rub the head against her slickness, she sucks in a breath. I position myself at her entrance, then pause.
Her body is tense with expectation. But I’m waiting for something important. She shifts a fraction of an inch, offering me her body.
I wait, throbbing with want.
Finally it happens. Her eyes flick over to the mirror. She’s trying to figure out why I’m not fucking her yet. But as soon as our eyes meet in the mirror I push inside.
Her chin lifts, her mouth falling open with desire. It’s fucking gorgeous. I take her tits in both hands and pinch the nipples. “Watch,” I growl. “See how beautiful you are?” In the mirror I see the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, her small body bouncing as I thrust. She’s tight and hot and I feel a wave of lust roll through me, until I have to close my eyes before things get out of hand.
She’s magnificent, and I do my best to
make it last. I give it to her nice and steady while her heart beats wildly in my hands. Then I slip one hand down between her legs and finger our connection, which makes her whimper.
“Shhh,” I whisper, and her breathing becomes even hotter.
When I don’t think I can last much longer, I pull out and climb up on the bed, settling on my back. She follows eagerly, seating herself on my cock. I’ve made her forget her inhibitions entirely now. We’re face to face, her eager body riding me like a champion. “That’s it,” I urge. “Take what you need.”
Her big blue eyes are heavy with lust, the pupils blown. I pull her down onto my chest, taking her mouth in a rough kiss. With a moan, she strains against me, desperate to find her release. I suck on her tongue as she reaches the finish line, her body quaking over mine. My hips pump on their own volition and I’m spilling and moaning and holding her tightly.
“Shhh!” she chides when I give one last, loud grunt of satisfaction. Her small hand slips over my lips.
I kiss it, then nudge it aside with a clumsy hand. “S’okay,” I say, then suck down the oxygen that I need. “They sleep like the dead, Hottie.”
“Then why were we silent?”
“Because hot,” I mumble, my eyelids heavy.
“Seriously?” she says at a normal volume, and I just grin up at her with my eyes shut. “You’re so…”
“Sexy?” I offer.
She smacks my shoulder and then collapses onto it. “Yeah. Fine. You win.”
I squeeze her body to mine, just feeling lucky.
Seventeen
Crumbs
Hailey
Waking up in Matt’s bed is startling.
It’s not his naked body beside me that’s a surprise. I felt his heat all night long. Best thing ever.
The startling part is the light knock on the door. “Daddy! Time for waffles.”
“Grrmf,” he says into the pillow.
There’s a moment of silence before the knocking begins again. “I’ll make ’em if you don’t!”
That gets him moving. I get a quick kiss and an apology. “I’ll start the coffee. Take your time,” he insists. “Take whatever you want from the medicine cabinet.”
“’Kay,” I manage.
After he disappears, closing the door behind him, I get up and hurry into his bathroom. I decide he won’t mind if I borrow his fabulous walk-in shower, with three jets and a heated towel bar.
I shower and braid my hair so it doesn’t resemble a sex do. His medicine cabinet has a few of those airline toothbrushes, and I help myself.
When I’m nearly presentable, I put on my jeans. But my top is crumpled like a tissue on the floor. I should have hung it up last night. It looks ridiculous so I peek into his closet (the mirror causing me to blush) and borrow a flannel shirt.
And it smells like him. Gah! I’m such a goner.
“Nice shirt,” he says quietly when he hands me a cup of black coffee a few minutes later.
“Mine looked like hell.”
He smirks at me. “That looks better on you than it ever looked on me.” He kisses my neck surreptitiously, and it reminds me of last night, when we were…
“Hailey?” Libby asks me. “Can you braid my hair like yours? Daddy can’t do girl stuff.”
“Oh. Sure,” I say, stepping away from her daddy before I maul him. “Do you have a hair tie and a comb?”
She runs off to find them.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says, breaking an egg into a mixing bowl.
“I don’t mind at all. Easiest thing in the world.” I clear my throat. “They don’t seem to mind that I’m here.”
“Of course not,” he assures me.
When Libby comes back, I sit down on the couch with her on the floor in front of me. Rufus comes bounding over, his leash in his mouth. “Do you need me to take him out?” I ask Matt, who’s whisking waffle mix. There is nothing sexier than a shirtless man cooking. Yowza.
“I owe him a walk,” he says. “But it will wait until after breakfast.”
It takes me two tries to braid Libby’s hair because she can’t hold still. But I manage a decent braid in her silky hair. Then June asks, so I do hers, too. Then everyone eats waffles and sausage at Matt’s table.
The waffles are…awful. When I give up on mine, I glance at Matt to see that he’s abandoned his, too. “Gluten free,” he mouths at me over his coffee cup, then scowls.
His daughters don’t seem to mind, though. They scarf theirs down. When they’re done, Matt’s ready with a wet washcloth to get the syrup off their sticky fingers. Then they beg him to read him a chapter of Ramona the Brave. “Before Mommy comes to get us,” June adds, looking sad.
He checks his watch. “After I finish my coffee,” he promises, parking his feet under the table beside mine.
Surreptitiously, I offer a bite of waffle to Rufus.
After a single sniff, he turns his nose away. But then, since he has my attention, he picks up his leash again and eyes me pityingly. “Can’t you see me?” his eyes say. “I’m right here!”
“I’m going to take Rufus out for a little walk,” I announce.
“You don’t have to…”
“I know!” I say, snapping the leash onto his collar. “Read to your girls.”
“Thank you, honey,” he says, his gray gaze warming me.
“You’re welcome. Go.”
I put on my jacket and take out the dog. When we pass the coffee shop, I have an idea. A barista I know is behind the counter, and I wave frantically until he spots me. “Can I get two chocolate croissants to go? Sorry for making you come over here.”
“No prob, Hailey. One sec.” He takes my money and brings back my pastries in a bag, and change. “That your dog? He’s cute.”
“He’s a friend’s,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”
We’re not gone for very long, because I plan to leave the croissant for Matt and get gone before his ex comes to fetch the girls at ten. I re-enter the lobby at 9:30 and scamper for the elevator doors, which are closing.
“Thanks,” I gasp when a hand holds them open.
But when I step inside the elevator, I realize my mistake. It’s Kara, Matt’s ex. And now she’s eyeing me as if I were the carrier of a nasty disease.
“Good morning,” I say, wishing I’d taken Rufus out for a very long walk.
“Morning,” she says tightly.
Rufus tries to greet her, too, but she pushes his feet off her camel-colored coat. So I tug him back, clicking my tongue.
Neither one of us pleases her, apparently.
It’s the longest elevator ride ever. I try to think of something nice to say, but the doors part before I’ve worked out what that might be.
I let her get off first, and she walks ahead of me to Matt’s door with a posture so regal the queen could take lessons. When she knocks, he opens right away. “Hail— You’re early, Kara,” he says quickly. Then his eyes lift to find me bringing up the rear.
I make an apologetic face, but his only looks amused.
“Are those waffles?” she asks by way of a greeting.
“Gluten free,” he assures her.
She sniffs anyway. “Let’s go, girls.”
“We were going to read another chapter!” Libby whines.
“Go get your clothes on,” she barks. The girls are still in their PJs.
“Isn’t my braid pretty?” Libby asks, twirling around in front of her mother. “Hailey did it.”
Kara’s lip curls, and I don’t really blame her. She doesn’t know me, and it looks as if I’ve tried to remake her daughters into my two little clones. “Please put on your clothes. Leave your PJ’s on the bed. They stay here. Matt,” she snaps. “Help them.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it again, trying to decide what to do. I lift my chin slightly. Go on. It’s okay. He trots off toward the girls’ room while I drop to a knee and unclip Rufus. Then I rub his belly. Last time Kara showed up, I ran away like a frightened
bunny. I could do that now, but why? The damage is already done. And I’m not afraid of her anymore.
It is what it is.
Matt reappears, holding a little pink duffel bag. “All set,” he says, handing the bag to Kara. When I stand up, he steps closer and rubs my back.
Kara actually rolls her eyes. “We didn’t discuss the girls spending time with your hookups.”
Matt practically growls. “Hailey is not a hookup,” he spits. “We’re dating.”
“Uh-huh.” Her irritated gaze swivels to me. “It won’t last, you know. He’s never around. The women hurl themselves at him on the road.”
“Which doesn’t matter,” he says through clenched teeth. “And never did.”
Whoa. Nothing like a little post-marital spat on Sunday morning.
Luckily, June and Libby have made it back into the room, calming everyone down. I drift out of sight, taking myself into Matt’s bathroom to wash my hands while he says goodbye to his children and sees his ex out the door.
A couple of minutes later I hear him enter the bedroom. “What’s in the bag?” he asks.
“Chocolate croissants,” I say, handing them over. “One for each of us.”
“Fuck yeah.” He sets the bag on his dresser. “I’m topping up our coffees. Let’s eat ’em in bed.”
My first impulse is to worry about crumbs. Then I check myself. “Yeah, let’s.”
Matt
“You look hot in my shirt,” I tell Hailey. I’ve just fucked her in the middle of my bed. I’m naked and she’s wearing only the shirt.
“Mmh,” is all she can manage, since she’s still breathing hard.
We cuddle for a few lovely minutes. “Thanks for not freaking out when my ex-wife was a bitch.”
She chuckles. “I get it. I really do.”
“I’m always the bad guy,” I tell her. Telling Hailey my troubles isn’t my MO, but sex has loosened my tongue. “She has a boyfriend. I’m sure he spends the night more often than not.”