Welcome To Redemption: Series Collection (Books 1-6)

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Welcome To Redemption: Series Collection (Books 1-6) Page 24

by Donna Marie Rogers


  He dropped his head back against the sofa and regarded her with thoughtful concern. Hard and aching, Matt wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and make love to her until neither of them could move. But he feared her sudden need for him had more to do with his forcing her to talk about her ex than being ready to take things to the next level.

  “Sweetheart, I want you, too. More than I can put into words. But—”

  She leaned in and kissed him silent. When she pulled back, she shook her head and whispered, “No ‘but’. I want you, and if the iron rod wedged between us is any indication, you want me, too. Don’t deny it.”

  Christ, she was going to be the death of him. “I’m not denying anything. It’s just…Look, I made you talk about things that brought up painful memories. Made you feel vulnerable and needy.”

  She arched a brow. “Needy?”

  Shit. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant….Ah, hell, I’m afraid to say anything else or I might cram my other foot in my mouth.”

  Carrie gave him a playful tap on the nose. “Good call. Just keep your sexy mouth shut until I say otherwise, and we’ll get along fine.”

  “Do I have to worry about you pulling out whips and chains?” he teased.

  She laughed, the sound beautiful music to his ears. “I may be adventurous, but I like to stay on this side of kinky, if that’s all right with you.”

  He winked. “You’re in charge here, Carrie. I’m merely your willing slave, eager to serve you in anyway you wish.”

  “I love a man who knows his place,” she purred before leaning in to nip at his bottom lip. And damn if his heart didn’t start thumping with anticipation.

  She pressed her lips to his again, this time opening up to him as she tugged his shirt free and started working it up his chest. She broke the kiss only long enough to pull his shirt over his head, their mouths meshing hungrily again as she tossed it on the floor. Matt plumbed her hot mouth, every inch of him hard with need. She tasted of wine, and Matt savored the heady flavor as she kissed him with more passion than any woman ever had.

  Desperate to feel her soft flesh, Matt slipped his hands beneath her shirt, her hot skin nearly scorching his palms. He cupped her breasts over her bra, and she arched into him with a sexy little gasp. He massaged the large globes, teasing her nipples through the lacey material, reveling in how perfect she was for him; how she epitomized every fantasy he’d ever had of the perfect woman. Carrie Lowell couldn’t be more ideal for him if she’d been custom made.

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she reached back to unclasp her bra. Matt wasted no time in slipping beneath it to palm the soft, supple flesh in his greedy palms. She peeled her own shirt off and tossed it aside, then her bra, as Matt paid loving homage to the most beautiful pair he’d ever seen. She braced her hands on the sofa behind him, her head falling back as Matt tongued first one pebbled peak; circling, flicking, lapping, sucking, before paying equal loving attention to her other breast. The thought of bringing her to orgasm with his mouth tightened his groin and nearly sent him over the edge. He wanted to pleasure her thoroughly, worship her, make damn sure she didn’t doubt his devotion for even a second.

  Putting his own needs on the backburner, Matt stood and switched their positions, settling Carrie on the sofa while he kneeled before her. With her cheeks flushed, her lips plump from his kisses, and those bountiful breasts with their pretty pink tips wet from his mouth, Carrie had never looked more desirable to him. He made quick work of stripping off the rest of her clothes, and within seconds she lay naked and open before him.

  “You’re incredible,” he whispered. “So damn beautiful.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, Matt gripped her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the cushion. Not sure what to expect, if she would be open to what he so badly wanted to do to her, or uncomfortable, he wasn’t surprised when she attempted to rise and switch places with him.

  “I want to be on top,” she whispered, clutching the waistband of his jeans and popping the button free.

  Matt’s pulse faltered as he grasped her hands and kissed them. The thought of her riding him, those magnificent breasts bouncing, her head thrown back, was just about more than he could take. Steeling his resolve, he coaxed her back into the position he wanted.

  “And I want that, too, sweetheart. There are so many things I want to do with you. Do to you.” He splayed his hands on the tender skin of her thighs and smiled at her slight quiver.

  “But I’m supposed to be in charge,” she pouted in a throaty purr.

  “Then tell me what you want me to do.” He punctuated his words with a gentle squeeze. “Tell me how to please you. Because Carrie, all I can think about right now is tasting you.”

  Another shiver told him exactly how his words had affected her. Carrie was a deeply sensual woman who’d been hiding behind fear and bitterness for far too long. As if reading his mind, she smiled her consent and grasped his hands. Matt held her heavy-lidded gaze as she guided him to her core.

  And Matt didn’t waste a second. He brushed his fingers through her tights curls, watching as she tugged that luscious bottom lip between her teeth—a gesture he found incredibly sexy. She clutched the sofa cushion with both hands and trembled as he slid one finger between her wet folds.

  Her head fell back again as he opened her, and a small cry escaped her when he circled her swollen bead. Her arousal was a beautiful thing to watch, her scent so seductive. Matt clenched his teeth, afraid he’d embarrass himself before he’d even had her on his tongue. He slid his other hand beneath her butt and squeezed, drawing another moan from her. She released the cushion and cupped her breasts, kneading them as she continued to hold his gaze.

  Damn, she was magnificent. He slid one finger into her tight channel and leaned in to lap at her tight bud. She arched into him with another soft purr. Sliding his other hand beneath her bottom, he lifted her off the sofa, powerless to hold back, pleasuring her with his tongue before covering her with his mouth and sucking hard.

  She cried out, her hips arching as she came, her fingers tunneling through his hair and gripping so hard it’d be a miracle if she didn’t yank a clump out. Matt didn’t care or ease up, his lips and tongue working to wring every last groan from her until she went limp with a lusty sigh of contentment. Matt smiled with satisfaction as he rose up to face her.

  “Pretty damn pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” she said, her contented smile in direct contrast with her teasing demand.

  “Yep.”

  She giggled as he stood up and unbuttoned his jeans, making quick work of stripping them off, along with his boxer briefs and socks. Carrie surprised him by grabbing his hand and pulling him down beside her on the sofa. She straddled his lap and pinned his shoulders to the sofa, making it quite clear she was taking over. Matt smiled with anticipation.

  Carrie held his gaze with more confidence than she felt. Though she’d never been shy, she was certainly no sex kitten either. But she wanted this man more than she wanted air; just the thought of him buried deep inside her was more stimulating than anything she’d ever experienced.

  She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, teasing him with the tip of her tongue as she wrapped her fingers around his hard length. She gave a gentle squeeze, amazed by the contrast of silky smooth over solid steel. He groaned, a drawn out, sexy male rumbling that heightened her excitement. She moved up and down his erection with sure strokes, eager to please him, eager to make him come apart as thoroughly as he had her.

  “Do you have protection?” she asked. “I do, but it’s upstairs.”

  He stopped her hand with a pained chuckle. “Another few seconds of that and we won’t even need any.” He leaned over and rustled around in his jeans pocket before pulling out his wallet. Extracting two condoms he admitted, “I picked these up in Green Bay.”

  “Feeling confident, were you?”

  “Hopeful,” he corrected, handing her the condoms. “With a l
ittle wishful thinking thrown in.”

  With a coquettish smile, Carrie accepted the condoms and set one on the end table. She slid off the sofa and crouched before him. He spread his thighs a bit as if in anticipation. Carrie grasped his stiff sex and leaned in to tease the head with the tip of her tongue. Matt watched her through half-mast eyes, a slow smile curving his lips, as she tasted him, running her tongue from tip to base, licking every inch of his impressive length before taking him into her mouth. She loved the taste of him, the sexy, musky scent that was purely Matt.

  He arched into her with a low groan, his voice thick as he whispered, “God, yes.”

  Feeling empowered, Carrie sat up and tore the condom wrapper open, then slowly, lovingly, sheathed him. Matt gripped her hip with one hand and held his thick sex with the other as she slowly sank down his hard length. Carrie could barely hold his gaze as they came together for the first time with a mutual groan of satisfaction. Nothing had ever felt so right to her, so perfect as he stretched her to the limit.

  Once she became more comfortable, Carrie moved with confidence, riding him with slow sure strokes, her hands braced on the back of the sofa. Matt caressed her breasts, her ribcage, her lower back. Their breathing grew labored as their pace quickened. Suddenly, he broke the kiss and clasped her bottom with both hands, thrusting inside her as their need grew to a fevered pitch.

  Carrie cried out, her release quick and earth-shattering. She continued to ride him until a hoarse shout tore from his own throat. Their bodies strained together as they crested each and every sweet wave. Carrie collapsed on top of him, the smile stretching her cheeks so huge she could hardly contain it. Had she ever been this happy, felt this comfortable with another living soul?

  Still inside her, Matt stood up and headed for the stairs. Laughing, Carrie grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and held on for dear life.

  They talked, kissed, and caressed each other as they finished the bottle of wine, making love twice more before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Carrie’s last thought before dozing off was that she’d finally found a man worthy of trust.

  * * *

  Sunlight streamed through the vertical blinds, washing Carrie’s face with warmth. Yawning, she stretched lazily before flipping onto her stomach. Memories of the night before flooded her mind, and her eyes popped open. She turned, expecting to find Matt slumbering beside her. Only the space next to her was empty. She lifted her head to glance around the room. Where the hell was he?

  A wave of nausea rolled through her as she sat up, and a slight pounding started in the back of her skull. Crap…they’d sucked down a whole bottle of wine, plus she’d polished off the last bottle while cooking supper. Carrie plopped back down on the pillow and gingerly massaged her temples. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hungover, and as needles of agony stabbed her brain, she swore off booze for good.

  When the intense brightness of the sun finally registered on her foggy consciousness, she sat up again with a start. Holy shit, she’d overslept!

  She tossed back the covers and raced into the bathroom. After a quick shower, she called the shop, praying Matt was there and that everything was all right. Not once since the day she’d opened Coffee To Chai For had she overslept, and she silently cursed herself as she waited for him to pick up. When he didn’t answer by the eighth ring, she tried his cell phone. No answer on his cell either.

  Starting to panic, she grabbed her purse and keys and ran out the door, casting a quick glance at a small beige car she’d never seen before parked across the street, its occupants openly staring at her. Huh. She resisted the urge to flip them off, jumped in her car, and drove away.

  A quick glance in her rearview mirror told her they were following right behind. Her anger dissipated somewhat as uneasiness took its place. Who the hell were they and what did they want with her? Doing her best to ignore them, she turned onto Salvation Avenue…and got the shock of her life. Her parking lot was filled with a construction team!

  No. Matt wouldn’t have made such a monumental decision without consulting her, and she’d already made it clear she needed to think on it. But as she approached her shop there was no denying what her lying eyes were seeing. The west friggin’ wall was missing!

  Carrie squealed to a stop in front of the shop, bound from her car, and stormed to the front door. She nearly had a coronary when she read the sign taped to the glass: Closed One Week For Remodeling. Her blood pressure spiked. That sneaky rat bastard, she was going to kill him! Did he honestly think he could make such a huge decision without her? Well, of course he did—he had.

  But wait, she’d only given him the key Friday night. How could he have had a crew here that fast? Could he have met with them on Saturday when he was in Green Bay with his sister? Or maybe they hadn’t gone to Green Bay at all. Cursing, she yanked open the door and stormed inside. Matt stood talking to one of the workers, and Lindy sat on the counter sipping from a Coffee To Chai For cup. Carrie stalked toward Matt, yanking Lindy off the counter as she passed.

  “Hey, what the hell! You made me spill my cappuccino!”

  Carrie didn’t so much as spare her a glance. When she reached Matt’s side—who still hadn’t noticed her thanks to the noisy machinery—she grabbed his arm. “I need to speak with you. Now.”

  Matt spoke a few words to the guy, thumped him on the back, and then turned to face her. He frowned, as if he had no clue what her problem was. “You don’t look as well-rested as I’d imagined. Which isn’t helping my ego right now.” He winked, then glanced around them. “I guess it’s a little late to yell ‘surprise.’”

  And then he grinned. The jackass actually grinned.

  “What the hell is going on here? How dare you make such an enormous decision without my okay!”

  “Just calm down and let me explain,” he said, trying to take her in his arms.

  Carrie stiff-armed him and took a step back. “Don’t you dare touch me. You knew I wasn’t ready for this, so you waited until I was weak and vulnerable—you slept with me—and then did whatever the hell you wanted. And I played right into your hands when I gave you that key!”

  He propped his hands on his hips and frowned. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little? I mean, yeah, maybe I should’ve gotten your okay before having them start the job, but sweetheart, I’m doing this for you. I want this place to become the hottest lunch spot in Redemption so you never have to worry about money again.”

  Carrie gazed up at him, her anger slowly dissipating even though she tried to hang onto it for dear life. Without it, she was putty in his hands, and she swore a long time ago she’d never give another man that kind of power over her.

  Matt reached out again, and this time she let him take her in his arms. “Look, I know I deserve your anger, but I swear, by the time this place is done, you’re going to love it. The drive-thru alone is going to double your business, and with a larger dining room you’ll be able to accommodate a pretty decent lunch and early supper crowd.”

  He was right and she knew it. Change was always scary, but since the change was already in motion, somehow it seemed a little less daunting. “I don’t want Lindy’s ass on my counter,” she mumbled against his chest.

  Matt laughed. “Sweetheart, there’s not another woman in the world like you.”

  Carrie headed behind the counter and made herself a cappuccino with a double shot of espresso. Lindy had parked herself back on the counter, and as Carrie and Matt strode past, Matt picked his sister up and settled her on a chair. Carrie laughed as they walked outside into the morning sunshine, Lindy on their heels.

  “What’s your problem, both of you? I was simply minding my own business, watching the guys work. Not much else to do here in Mayberry.”

  Before Matt or Carrie could respond, a couple of car doors slammed, and she looked up to see those same two men rushing toward them brandishing cameras. Carrie blinked in surprise. Reporters coming to do a piece about th
e coffee shop? Already? But why had they been parked in front of her house?

  Lindy grasped Carrie’s arm and tried to pull her back into the shop while Matt hurried forward and met the reporters in the street.

  “Let go,” Carrie snapped, yanking free of Lindy’s hold. “What the hell are you doing? Do you know those guys?”

  “I know their type,” Lindy muttered. “Believe me, for your own sake, get inside your shop and lock the door.”

  A bad feeling mushroomed in Carrie’s gut. She stood and watched as the reporters skirted past Matt and beelined straight for her. Matt grabbed one of them by the arm and yanked him around. “I’m warning you, get back in your car and get the hell outta here!”

  “Matt? What in the world—”

  “Ms. Lowell,” the second reporter shouted as a flashbulb popped in her face. “How does it feel to be dating an accused murderer?”

  “An accused murderer? Are you high? Get that thing out of my face.”

  Matt shoved the other reporter to the ground and his camera crashed beneath him.

  “You’re gonna pay for that, Spalding! I’m just doing my job—”

  Spalding?

  “You’re a leech who makes his living off other people’s misery.” Matt pulled some cash from his pocket and threw it on the ground. “Now get the hell out of my sight.”

  The second reporter continued to snap pictures. Matt started toward him, but he dashed around, keeping out of Matt’s reach. “Ms. Lowell, are you aware that you’re dating one of the richest men in the country?”

  Chapter Eight

  Carrie’s gaze went from the reporter, to Matt and Lindy—who both sported a deer-in-the-headlights looks—then back to the reporter. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Matt took a step toward her, his expression grave, scaring the hell out of her. “Carrie, can we just head to your place and talk? I think—”

 

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