by Bella Andre
Finally, he swooped in, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth, and her body arched involuntarily with a pure shaft of pleasure. Then he nipped her…and everything that had coiled so tightly inside her burst wide open.
“Matt,” she cried out. He laid his hand between her legs, barely stroking her at all, making her come simply from the heat of his touch.
She was still floating, hazy and deep in pleasure, when the bed moved, and he padded softly across the carpet, then back again. He scuffed the side table, and the mattress dipped beside her once more.
Cupping her head, he tilted her until a glass touched her lips. “Drink.”
The champagne was cool, fizzy, delicious, and she swallowed thirstily.
“Now this. Open your mouth.” He touched something to her lips, and she tasted chocolate. “Bite.”
Sweet, succulent fruit spiked with dark chocolate detonated on her taste buds. Chocolate-covered strawberries. She ate greedily, then Matt licked her lips clean, setting her insides completely ablaze. It was almost more than she could bear when he caressed her nipples with the cool fruit, trailing from one to the other.
“Look at that sticky mess I made.” His deep, sexy voice rumbled over her. Through her. “I have to clean you up.”
Oh God, she could come again from nothing but the raw need in his voice. And as his tongue followed the path of the berry, licking, sucking, tantalizing, she twisted her hands, grabbing hold of the silky scarves binding her wrists, stretching them as taut as her body felt.
Tapping another strawberry against her lips, she took another bite, and then he smeared the other half over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Straddling her body, he licked her clean. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear, especially when he drizzled champagne onto the mix and licked that too.
When he’d used his tongue over every inch of the strawberry’s path, he kissed her. He tasted like champagne and chocolate and the salt of her skin. He sizzled in her mouth, taking her luxuriously, sucking her lips, her tongue, then going deep.
Finally, he peeled himself off her. But he wasn’t done. The bed shifted again, followed by a pop, more sounds, rustles. With a pfft of air, something cool and creamy shocked her skin.
“This is why I suggested we skip dessert at the restaurant.” He dragged the smooth, chocolatey flesh of another strawberry through all the creaminess on her body and fed it to her. “I wanted to eat it off you instead.”
Everything was erogenous when he was doing this to her. She moaned and arched her body to meet his mouth. Without sight, she was reduced to sensation. A slave to his lips, his tongue, his hands, her body an instrument he was expert at playing. Until he picked up the can again and she almost bucked off the bed as the cold cream covered her sex.
The sweet treat melted beneath his tongue, and so did she, crying out. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it was almost painful. So good it was exactly the right kind of bad. So close and yet so far.
Because she needed more. She was about to beg, but he knew what she needed even before she opened her mouth. He entered her with two fingers, and she went mindless, out of control. She rode the edge of climax as if it were a tsunami on the horizon, ready to roll in, consume her, and drag her under until she was drowning in pleasure.
Then Matt put his hand under her hips, lifted her against his mouth, and the tsunami crashed over her, a huge wave of bliss—and of wonderful, amazing Matt—tumbling through her.
* * *
Ari was still tied down, her moans and cries of pleasure a symphony in his ears. Beyond control, beyond mere need and desire, Matt reared up, grabbed her hips, and slammed home deep inside her. He’d put protection on when he retrieved the whipped cream, knowing he’d need to be ready, anticipating the total collapse of his willpower.
She was covered in streaks of cream and chocolate, her skin deliciously sticky as they slipped and slid together, her body clenching him hard, amplifying the heat between them to dangerous levels.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She tasted sweet and was so damned hot as she came again like rockets going off, the explosion far greater than the excitement of having scarves around her wrists and a blindfold covering her eyes. More vast than the taste of her on his lips and tongue, even as delectable as she was.
It was how she felt around him—like he was meant to be here with her.
Only her. Only him.
He lost himself in the connection, loving how she kept pace with him, crying out as she rolled from one peak to another without stopping, both of them wild. Crazy with need. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
Long after they both finally drifted down, she was still blindfolded and tied, their bodies fused, his sprawled across hers. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I believe you said that last time.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, her lips, her neck. She tasted like whipped cream, chocolate strawberries, and all woman.
“But after what just happened in this bed,” she said, a smile in her voice, “it needs to be repeated.”
How could he have thought of her as too young, too innocent? She was so unabashed, unashamed. No restrictions, no mind games, just honesty.
“I love that you let me tie you up.”
“You’d never hurt me,” she said so simply that his heart turned in his chest, beating hard against his rib cage. “I trust you.”
He was floored all over again that she believed in him not only to find her brother, but to treat her right. Beneath the weight of her trust, he crumbled. Slipping off her mask, he said, “But you don’t know me very well.”
She tipped her head up and looked him in the eye, her gaze fierce. “Yes, I do. You’re a great father. A great friend. A great son.” She smiled a soft, sensual smile. “And a wicked lover.”
She might not understand just how deep his scars ran from his childhood, but she was right that he’d already let her in more deeply than he’d ever intended. How could he not when she was so kind, so sweet, so caring, so loyal? Her trust was monumental, and he wanted to earn every ounce of it. He just wasn’t sure he could in the long run—not when behind his mask of success and wealth, his darkness still lingered. The fact that he could even be this close to her now was such a gift. One he would appreciate forever, no matter what happened between them in the future. And since tonight was about taking her beyond her pain, he ruthlessly shoved away his fears as he slipped the scarves from her wrists and ankles.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down her body. “I’m a mess.”
He licked her breast, her abdomen, her thigh, then headed down to the ties at her ankles. “You’re gorgeous.” She blushed, as she always did at his compliments, her skin heating against his, her cheeks turning pink. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you how perfect you are?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bathroom for a shower. “My friends think I’m great.”
“I mean men, boyfriends, admirers.” In the bathroom, he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor and their bodies were flush.
She was quiet for a long moment before she finally said, “It was always better to downplay myself. So I wouldn’t be noticed.”
Knowing she had to be talking about some of the foster fathers she’d lived with—and the ways they must have tried to hurt her—he barely bit back a curse.
“You don’t have to worry about anything now, Ari.” He kissed her with everything in him, deeply, sweetly. For now he refused to think about tomorrow or the next day. Too soon, they’d have to return to life as it had been before this trip, when she would become his son’s nanny again and he would worry about the consequences of touching her, of wanting her, of hurting her.
But as long as they were on the road together, away from real life, she was his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt hit the End Call button on the steering wheel the following morning. “Mrs. Esterhausen still isn’t answering.”
; “Maybe we should postpone,” Ari suggested.
“We’re almost there. If she’s not home, we’ll have lunch and try again. If she is, we’ll be polite and go away if she doesn’t want to talk.” Determination was clear on his face. “You need to know if she’s seen Gideon.”
Feeling as though he knew her inside and out, she said, “You’re right, I do need to know.” They’d brought joy to Mrs. Sanchez. She’d welcomed the chance to go through her daughter’s things, to remember her all over again. Ari prayed they could do the same for Mrs. Esterhausen.
“Have I mentioned today how brave you are?” Matt kissed her fingers. “Brave and beautiful.”
Her heart swelled at his sweet words. How could she have been so lucky as to find him?
Last night, he’d made love to her a second time in the shower with the water beating down on them, washing every inch of her the way he’d kissed every inch earlier in the bed. In the middle of the night, he’d woken her again, pleasuring her until she was a puddle of need. And again, with the morning sun falling across them, his hands on her hips guiding her as she’d ridden them both into oblivion.
I love you.
The words inside her screamed to get out. But though her heart felt close to bursting, the time wasn’t right. She didn’t want him to think she’d blurted it out simply because she was grateful for his help in finding her brother—or that it was all the hot sex. When she finally told him how deep her feelings ran, she wanted him to know the words came straight from her heart to his.
So she kept the emotion close, savoring it the way she did the feel of his skin on hers and his body inside her.
The miles rushed by until they were on the street where Mrs. Esterhausen lived. There were no boarded-up windows, no trash blowing in the breeze, yet the neighborhood looked exhausted. Most of the houses were in need of paint and new roofs, and the sidewalks were cracked by overgrown tree roots. In front of the Esterhausen place, the lawn had given way to scrubby tufts of grass and weeds. The white picket fence had grayed and was missing some of its pickets, like an old woman who’d lost her teeth. A rusting Chevy sat on blocks on the far side of the driveway. The shades were pulled, and there was no other car in sight.
He leaned over for a quick kiss meant to bolster her bravery before they both got out of the car. The gate to the front path hung open on a broken hinge, and her chest felt tight knowing that it was probably due to the loss of husband and father. Just as Ari’s life had changed when her dad died.
Matt’s fingers closed around hers as they walked up the path. The doorbell didn’t ring when they pressed the button, so she knocked. For the count of ten, they heard nothing. Then a thump of a door closing came from inside the house, and she knocked one more time.
At long last, the door opened to reveal a dark-haired woman, her face as drawn and exhausted as the neighborhood. “Yeah?” she asked, holding the door with one hand. Her gaze flicked between Ari and Matt. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling.”
“We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Esterhausen,” Ari told her.
The woman narrowed her eyes warily. “How do you know my name?” She might have been pretty a long time ago, but now her body was too thin, her face cut with deep lines that aged her by ten years.
“My brother, Gideon, served with your husband and—”
“What could you possibly want now?” Her voice turned hard and harsh, almost like a slap across Ari’s face. “After all this goddamned time?”
“Ma’am—” Matt began.
Mrs. Esterhausen stabbed a finger at him. “I’m asking her, so you just shut up.”
Matt’s fingers tightened around hers, and Ari knew he was about to jump in to protect her. But she couldn’t let him go off on this poor woman.
Squeezing his hand to show him she was okay, she said, “Please, I’m sorry if we’re bothering you. But I’ve been looking for my brother, and I came here today to ask you if you’ve ever seen him.”
“I saw him. He let my husband die out there. Then he came here expecting me to forgive him.”
Ari felt her body tingle, like a foot that had gone to sleep. First there was numbness, then pins and needles, then knives as the woman said, “My husband is dead and your brother still gets to live? No.” She glared at Ari. “No.”
“Ari,” Matt said softly, never taking his eyes off Mrs. Esterhausen.
She knew he was trying to warn her that they should leave before things got any worse. But though her heart was beating so hard it felt as if it might pound right out of her chest, Ari couldn’t leave.
The widow had to get it out. Ari knew what grief did, the terrible things people were capable of, the awful words they said. This woman’s children would be in their teens now. She’d had to raise them alone.
“The Army giveth and the Army taketh away,” the woman spat. “They left me with nothing. And what does your brother do? He brings me goddamned pictures.” She cursed in disgust. “I threw them back at him. I don’t forgive him. I don’t forgive the Army.”
“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I won’t bother you again.”
“You better not. Now get off my property. And if you do find your brother, tell him to go to hell.”
Ari backed away, pulling Matt with her. She almost tripped off the concrete porch, and once they were outside the broken gate, Matt bundled her into the car, then quickly climbed in behind the wheel and drove them away.
After a few blocks, he pulled to the curb, shut off the engine, then gathered her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t right. It doesn’t matter what happened, she didn’t have the right to do that to you.” He stroked the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“They’re not for me.” Some were, but mostly, “I’m crying for Gideon.” For the things the woman must have said to him, the rage she must have taken out on him. “No wonder he disappeared. It would have been horrible.” She buried her face against Matt’s chest. The ache of Gideon’s trauma was almost too much to bear.
“I should never have brought you here. I’m so sorry I insisted.”
He held her tightly, his warmth flowing into her. And God, she needed him, his arms around her, his breath in her hair, his heart beating against her ear. “It’s not your fault. I needed to come here today so that I’d know why Gideon disappeared.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I bet he never made it to the families of the other soldiers. Not after she ripped him apart.”
Matt gently wiped away another trickle of tears, first with his fingertips, then with his lips. Soft kisses meant to heal. “I’ve never met your brother, but something tells me he did make it. Because if he’s anything like you, he wouldn’t have stopped until his mission was complete.”
Matt was right about both her and her brother. Gideon wasn’t a quitter, which meant there were two more families she needed to talk to. But she was suddenly tired of fighting the fear she’d always worked so hard to hold at bay where her brother was concerned. She sighed as heavily as if a plank of rocks were squeezing out all her breath. She’d never felt this close to hopelessness before.
“I know we should keep going, but I’m not ready to look for the rest of them yet.”
“Taking a break can help you see everything more clearly. You’ve more than earned it, Ari. It’s a long drive home, and there’s a place in the mountains between here and the Grapevine where we can stay before we get home to my rambunctious five-year-old.”
And then he closed his arms around her again and held her close to his beating heart.
* * *
Ari was so emotionally wrung out that as soon as they checked in to the hotel, Matt tucked her into bed for a nap and wouldn’t let himself join her so she would actually get the sleep she needed.
Out on the grounds, his hands balled into fists as he thought of Esterhausen’s widow. The woman’s grief had leaked from her pores, permeating the air, making everything tense and achy. Her
anger had been agonizing, and allowing her to take it out on Ari had gone against every one of his protective instincts.
But he hadn’t stepped up to protect her, because Ari clearly hadn’t wanted him to. Controlling himself from ripping into the widow the same way she’d ripped into Ari had taken a monumental effort. Despite his fury, he couldn’t slam someone who’d already been beaten by life and loss.
Knowing that Esterhausen had left behind two boys who would now be fourteen and seventeen, he’d already set the wheels in motion to make an anonymous donation to their college funds.
But that still left Gideon Jones, who was as lost to Ari now as he’d been before their road trip.
Matt looked up at the blue sky above, knowing better than to think a silent wish could come true. He made it anyway, praying he could give Ari her heart’s desire and hand over her brother.
The depth of his emotion left him shell-shocked. The last two nights with Ari in his arms had been just this side of heaven. But watching her allow the widow to abuse her today…
He cursed low and long, outside, where only the trees and the wind could hear. He’d wanted so badly to help her, protect her, comfort her. But he’d been helpless in the face of her anguish.
Once upon a time, he’d thought he needed to make it through alone. But the Mavericks had proved they’d be there for him dozens of times over the past decades, just as he was there for them if they ever needed his help.
Plunking down on a bench beside a gorgeous cluster of blue hydrangeas, he pulled out his phone and made a call to Will. Not to check on Noah this time—but because he needed to talk to one of his closest friends. Needed to lay out the whole debacle, from the moment the widow had opened the door, to Ari’s tears, to once again not being able to step up to find her brother.
“Man, that’s tough,” Will sympathized a few minutes later when Matt finally fell silent.
“I wanted to strangle the woman for her cruelty, but I had to remember what she’s been through and that I couldn’t lash out to keep Ari safe.”