His rhythm is impeccable, and the scent of him fills my nostrils over and over again as we spin away and then back into each other’s arms. The song changes again, and he settles me against his pelvis, our bodies grinding together. My nipples pebble against his chest, and I can barely breathe, I want him so badly.
One hand cups my chin and his lips press against my temple. I slide my hands up into his hair and let out a shuddering breath before tugging his lips to mine.
He groans into my mouth, his whole body going rigid.
“You’re killing me, Ani,” he murmurs against my lips, and then he’s kissing me for real, his hands gripping my waist, his tongue teasing my lips apart.
It’s so easy to lose myself in him, in this new him, this Matt who is confident and successful and everything he always swore he was going to grow up to be. In the dark of the club, with our bodies grinding together and our breathing heavy, it’s easy to pretend the last ten years had gone differently, that there wasn’t history or hurt between us. Instead there’s the hunger in his lips, the silk of his tongue teasing mine, the ache of desire in the core of my body, all tension and yearning and softening for a man I still want to hate.
“Take me back to the hotel.” I nip at his ear.
“Say goodbye to your friends. I’ll get an Uber.”
We sit apart in the car home, though I can see his hands twitch as if to grab me. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he practically growls.
“Neither did I,” I gasp as he finally reaches for me. His hand caresses along my collarbone, his thumb resting in the hollow of my throat. I arch into that touch and it tightens. It’s as good as foregone now. We’re definitely fucking tonight.
“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to unlock the connecting door.” He bites at my temple, then kisses the sting away. “If you want anything to happen between us, you’ll know it’s open to you.”
“And if I don’t?” I demand as he kisses my throat, just underneath his thumb.
He lets go.
I’m vibrating with need, and he lets go, settles back against his seat and glances at me across the way as though we’re strangers sharing a car.
“Then don’t open the door, Ani. Because if you open that door, do you know what I’m going to do?”
Oh, please tell me.
“What?” I practically squeak.
His voice drops low and husky, so I have to lean close to hear him. “I’m going to peel that dress off you, and I’m going to look my fill. I’m going to see you like I haven’t seen you in ten years. I’m going to kiss every new freckle and scar. I’m going to taste the salt of your skin where you get wet and hungry. I’m going to watch you open up for me, and I’m going to make you shake like a pine tree in a storm. I’m going to see you satisfied, Ani.”
I’m already shaking, reaching out a trembling hand for him and pulling him close. “I want that.”
“It means something to me,” he says vehemently. “Everything we do means something to me. And it always did. So you need to know that. It’s not a game, it’s not just bodies making each other feel good. Do you understand?”
And I do. He’s trusting me with something more than his body, more than his pleasure.
“I can hurt you,” I whisper, and he nods.
“And I don’t blame you at all if you want to.” His eyes squeeze closed like he’s in pain. “If you want to use me and satisfy yourself, and never see me again, I can accept that. I can understand that.”
Is that what I want? I don’t know.
“I can’t promise not to hurt you,” I say it slowly. “But I can promise when I come through that door, I’m not coming to you for revenge.”
He opens his eyes and traces a finger over my cheekbone. “It’s more than I deserve.”
Before he can say more, the car lurches to a stop in front of our hotel. We say a hurried goodbye to the driver, and he speeds away. My face flushes as I think about what he may have overheard, but it’s not like we’ll ever see him again.
My stomach flutters with nerves and anticipation all the way up the elevator to our floor, and every step we take feels closer to a precipice I’m not sure we’re ready to jump off.
“Give me a few minutes, okay?” I say in the hallway outside our rooms.
He leans in and kisses me gently. “As long as you need.”
Matt
I open the connecting door with shaking hands, resting my palm against the cold metal of the matching door on the other side.
I’ve never been able to hide from Ani, and I’ve never wanted to. Every raw, shaky first we shared was shared in fumbling honesty. My betrayal was too. And though I don’t want to burden her with feelings she may not share, I can’t lie to her, and I can’t hold back, and so in that stranger’s car, I gave her my truth, like I always have, to do with as she will.
I’m standing there, my heart in my throat and my hand on the door, when it opens.
Her feet are bare, and she’s holding a hairbrush. I raise my eyebrows, and she smiles at me and hands it over. I stare down at it, then back up at her.
“Nothing kinky, I swear. Just, will you brush my hair for me?”
That hair. That glorious, silky hair. Does she know how many fantasies it’s fueled? Does she know how much it means to be asked to touch her like this? That this is intimate in a way that sex isn’t?
“Of course I will. Come here.”
I lead her into the room and set the brush down on the desk, then turn back to face her. “But first...” I lean down and slowly lift the hem of her dress. Her breath catches in her throat, and she holds it as I draw the dress up, exposing the creamy skin of her thighs, then the softness of her belly, and the gentle swell of her breasts. I lift it over her head, then drape it over the chair by the desk. She folds her arms across her chest. Self-conscious?
“Okay?” I ask, and she nods, dropping her arms to her sides and watching me. I slip her bra straps from her shoulders, unhook it, and slide it from her arms. Her nipples pebble in the cool air, and she shivers.
“Lie down.” I guide her to the bed, and she stretches out on her belly, her head pillowed on her arms. I pick up the brush and sit next to her, running my hand from the top of her head down her back to her buttocks. Her hair is almost that long.
“Are you going to take your clothes off too?” she asks.
“Do you want me to?”
She nods, wide-eyed, so I shuck off my jeans and yank my T-shirt over my head, dropping them to the floor and picking up the brush again. As I start to draw it through a length of her hair, her fingertips trace a circle over my knee. I brush out the tangles in silence, waiting for her to say something, anything, to clue me in to how she’s feeling, what she wants.
She lets out a heavy sigh and closes her eyes. “I missed this.”
I pause, then resume working the brush carefully through a tangle. “Missed what?”
“Being touched like this.”
“How long has it been?” I don’t want to know, but I need to know.
“Since I let a lover brush my hair? Or since I had a lover?”
Danger. I swallow thickly, choosing my words carefully. “Since you’ve been touched in the way that you miss.”
“Ten years.” She says it without rancor, but it feels like a knife in my heart.
“Ani—”
“Don’t.” Her hand squeezes my knee. “I chose not to get close to anyone. I didn’t want anyone to hurt me the way you did. I thought it was better. But I missed this.”
My nose stings, and I blink back the threatening tears. “Was it better?”
She shrugs.
Her hair is free of tangles now, but I don’t stop brushing. I pull the hairbrush from the crown of her head to the ends, marveling at the softness.
“It was easier, I think. But
not better.”
“Why now?” I ask, meaning why me?
“Because you’ve already done your worst. And I survived.”
“Ani—”
“Don’t,” she says again, harsher this time. “You’ve never lied to me. You’ve hurt me, but you’ve never lied. I loved the way you smiled at me, and I loved the way we made each other happy. I loved you.”
“I loved you too.” I draw the brush through her hair again.
When she speaks again, her voice is so small I have to lean in to hear it. “In spite of how much you hurt me, I still like you.”
I don’t say anything back, because her words cut and heal at the same time. It doesn’t sound like forgiveness, which is something I never wanted anyway. But it feels like an olive branch.
I run the brush through her hair one more time, then down over the curve of her ass and the length of her leg, and I stand up. My cock is hard, and I want her as much as I ever have in my life, but if I could freeze this moment in time, I would.
She looks at me over her shoulder, her hair spilling around her in waves. “Come to bed, Matt. See me satisfied.”
We tumble.
We tangle.
Somehow, in the mess, she gains the upper hand. Her lips close over the head of my cock, and she peers up at me through dark lashes. For a long moment, I let her steal my breath, because there is nothing in this world like the feeling of her tongue curling against the sensitive skin of my glans. But my fantasy has never been about her serving me.
I pull out from between her lips, shuddering at the juicy pop when she lets me go. Then I push her down to the pillows, and I make my way down her body, keeping my promise to kiss every new freckle and scar. I bite at the ring in her navel—no, it’s probably not new, but it’s new to me, and the way she arches into my mouth makes me feel a thousand feet tall. And when I spread her legs wide and breathe in the sweet scent of her? She takes fistfuls of my hair and pulls me to where she wants me most.
I lick, I nibble, I twist inside her, teasing her clit with my tongue and the ruched flesh of her cunt with fingers while she sighs and writhes against me. My cock lays heavy between my thighs, and in a moment of weakness, I thrust against the bed, as if that would offer any reprieve.
“Matt.” Her voice, reedy and breathless, draws me up short.
“Ani?”
“Come here.” She tugs at my body until I’m looming over her, biting my lip at how fucking beautiful she is. She touches my face and smiles like the sun breaking across the horizon, and then she very deliberately leans forward and bites my shoulder.
I arch up and sink down onto her at the same time, the slickness of her body so warm and welcoming, I almost let it happen, I almost just dive in. Reckless.
“Hey—” I push back away from her. “I need a condom.”
She arches up against me. “You better have your own, because my baby brother’s gym bag is 400 miles away.”
I laugh against the side of her neck. “I do.”
It takes just a moment to grab it, to roll it down over myself, then I push the hair away from her face and I press a kiss to her forehead. “You good?”
She smiles and drags my hips down to her. “Yes. Finally, yes.”
I try to push in slowly, the tight heat of her body overwhelming, but she’s not having any of it. She wraps her legs around me, arching up and taking me deep. Her body is heaven and hell together. The urge to push forward, to fuck, to bend her body to my desires is nearly overwhelming, but then she touches my face, strokes her thumb across my eyebrow, and I know I’m exactly where I belong: at her beck, her call, her mercy.
I reach between us, stroking her clit with unsteady fingers, watching her breath catch, her rib cage seize up. Her skin flushes pink and her voice breaks.
“I—oh—” She seizes up around me, her fingernails digging into my shoulders, and I feel the first floodgates burst. My hips piston forward as she tenses up, her orgasm a gorgeous tightening from her face all the way down to her pretty toes.
I surge forward, mindless now to anything but my own pleasure, and she arches into me, crying and breathless.
Slumping against her body, I press my lips to her forehead, trying not to say words she’ll hate me for.
“Ani—” I cling to her, dragging her close.
“Matt.” She breathes into my chest, then bites at my chin. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. But it does.”
“It does.” I whisper the words into her hair, and I feel her smiling against my chin.
She gets up and disappears into the bathroom. Water runs and splashing sounds. I dispose of the condom and join her in the shower, sliding my hands down her athletic body. Her hair is tucked up under the plastic shower cap and mascara runs down her face, but I’ve never seen anything sexier.
She laughs when I tell her so, and hands me a washcloth. “Scrub my back, nerd.”
Could she be any more perfect?
Tiffani
I wake up in Matt’s bed, the lavender light of dawn peeking from beneath the blackout curtains. The doors between the two hotel rooms stand open, and my first thought is what a waste. We should have booked a single room. This—this was inevitable.
But my second thought is that I wouldn’t have slept with him if he had assumed it was inevitable. Trust is a fickle thing between us, but I’m starting to understand that he isn’t taking it for granted.
I watch him sleep in the low light, a half a smile dancing on his lips. Some people look younger in sleep, without the weight of their world on them. But Matt? He looks amused, and it makes me smile. His lips look as soft as I know they feel, and I think about kissing him awake, but a glance at the clock by the bed says it’s only five a.m., so instead I snuggle closer and let myself drift in and out of sleep.
When I wake again for real, the sunlight is warm on my skin, and he’s sitting up in bed with his glasses perched on his nose, scrolling through Twitter.
“Good morning.” He grins down at me. “You look really good.”
I can’t help laughing, and a snort comes out with it. “I feel really good.”
“Yeah?” His eyes widen. “You do?”
I nod. “Like ten years fell off me.”
The smile fades, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, then reaches out and cradles my face with one hand. His phone falls to the bed, and then so does he, resting over me. “Ani—I don’t want to assume anything, but I’d really like to kiss you right now.”
I lift myself up on my elbows and take the kiss from his lips. His pelvis sinks down onto mine, and he groans into my mouth. Just like that, I’m as hungry for him as I ever was. Our tongues slide together, lush and intimate.
Kissing him last night had been all about urgency, but this morning, we take our time. I discover he still likes it when I touch his face while we kiss; he remembers how ticklish my ears are. We laugh into each other’s mouths while our bodies roll together and heat builds languorously.
He slides his hands over my body with something close to reverence, parting my legs and moving slowly down to kiss me there too.
I lie back, arms above my head, eyes closed, and I bask in the feeling of being adored. Because no matter what our complicated past means to us both, in this moment, he turns adoration into an art form.
He strokes me slowly, letting me warm to his touches, then he slides his tongue over my clit in easy circles, his fingertips teasing at my opening. When I can’t hold my hips still, he slips two fingers inside me to ease the ache.
And he talks to me.
Oh lord, the things that come out of his filthy, beautiful lips.
“This is the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, stretching me with two fingers. “I love how hungry you are for me. You can’t lie still, you can’t keep quiet—even the way you breathe tells me you
want this.”
Warmth pools low in my core at his words, and I want to roll around in the feeling. My breasts tighten and ache, so I reach up and cup them, twisting at my nipples. They feel like they’re connected by an electrical current to my cunt. A whimper slips from between where I bite my lower lip.
“That’s right, Ani, let’s make you feel really good.”
And oh, he does. Or we do, now that he’s recruited me into my own pleasure.
“Show me what you like.” He pushes one of my hands down to my pussy, then watches with fascinated eyes as I strum my clit. When I’m close, he pulls my hand away and licks my juices off my fingers. Holy hell, how does he not realize how sexy he is?
“How do you want to get off?” he asks. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“I want to ride you.”
His eyes fall closed, and he nods. “Okay.”
Then he rolls us over, grabs a condom, and gets us down to business. When the condom is secured over his cock, he strokes my pussy until I squirm, and then he helps me onto him.
I sink down slowly, gasping at the sensation of being full, and I look down, into his face. His eyes are scrunched shut, but his mouth hangs open, as if the pleasure is too much to bear. I know the feeling. I lean forward so my clit rubs right where his cock and his body join, and I draw my legs up to get closer.
He groans and his hands clutch at my hips. “God, Ani.”
When his eyes open, we both smile.
“You feel amazing,” I whisper.
“You feel better than amazing.”
His hand wraps around my upper thigh, then forward so his thumb can reach my clit. I roll against him, and he rubs back, and the pleasure builds steady and true. When I’m close, I pause for a moment to savor the sensation, wishing it could last forever, just like this. And then I come, shaking with pleasure.
As I gasp for breath, he rolls us over again, thrusting into me hard, and it brings my orgasm roaring back in a shuddering coda.
I get to watch his face as he comes, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Eyes closed, mouth open on a throaty roar of pleasure. His chest heaves as he eases out of me, and then he smiles at me, and I feel like the sun has come up all over again.
Flying Gold Page 12