Love on the Outskirts of Town Page 22

  “I think technically you seduced me ages ago. This is just the…culmination of a lot of foreplay.”

  Matt dragged his lower lip between his teeth as the last of the leftover paint rolled slowly out of the tray and back into the can. “I want you to know, this wasn’t exactly my plan when I came over. I really did want to cheer you up and help you paint.”

  “Mmm.” She waited until he’d tapped the lid back onto the can and everything was neatly stowed away before she began unbuttoning her shirt. “And how many condoms did you bring with you?”

  “The standard three-strip that I’ve been carrying around with me since Thanksgiving.” He reached for the loose flap of her work shirt, but she dodged out of the way. He gave her an easy grin. Oh, those sexy smiles. They melted her every time, even when he was being cheeky. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  She took another step away from him as her shirt fluttered to the floor.

  It felt good to have his gaze on her. Hot, heavy inspection of her simple bra, her bare flesh. She reached for the button on her jeans. “It’s a good thing I bought a big pack the other day, then.”

  His gaze jerked from where her fingers were teasing up to her face. “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tasha…”

  She started moving again, walking backwards, until she bumped into the stairs. “I have a confession to make,” she whispered. “I can’t really warm up the shower. It’s a shoddily rigged-up temporary thing over a bathtub that I think might be a hundred years old.”

  “I’ve never had a better invitation than that,” Matt growled as he closed the gap between them.

  “It could fall down on us if we’re not careful.”

  “Careful is my middle name.”

  “You have a lot of middle names,” she breathed as he cupped her cheek.

  “As many as it takes to promise you I’m whatever you need me to be.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted him to be careful tonight. But instead of saying that, she kissed him.

  His hands covered her body. Big, wide, hot. He touched her all over, and then under, nudging her jeans down her hips until he had her ass in his palms.

  When he lifted her up, she gasped and flung her arms around his neck.

  “Hang on,” he growled as he wiggled her out of her pants, one arm holding her up the whole time.

  As soon as her legs were bare, she squeezed them tight around his waist and buried her face in his neck. Her heart pounded a mile a minute as he climbed the stairs, carrying her toward the barely functional shower set-up and her empty bedroom after that.

  There was nothing impressive about her house right now. Little impressive about her, really. She clung to him as doubt tried to invade this moment. Whispered thoughts of not being worthy, not being enough.

  She pushed them away and kissed his skin instead of giving in to worry. He tasted warm and masculine, faint remnants of an earlier shower still clinging to his skin.

  They could make this quick. Just a rinse off, then they could crawl under her covers and get to the good stuff.

  But Matt wouldn’t be rushed. When he set her down in the bathroom, and she started the shower, he took his time stripping off his clothes, then peeling her out of her underwear.

  “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured as he traced his fingertips down her arms, then up the middle of her torso. He grazed her breasts, her collarbone, then back to her face. By the time he’d finished kissing her, the bathroom was nice and steamy after all.

  “See? We warmed up the shower together.”

  “I don’t think I’ve had a shower as long as that kiss in the entire time we’ve been here,” she admitted. “And never with the door closed. I didn’t know it could get all warm and cozy like this.”

  “We had one of these tubs growing up. My dad didn’t bother to renovate the bathroom until after his hooligan sons all moved out.”

  “It’s more about not wanting to leave Emily alone,” she admitted, which was the least sexy thing to say in this particular moment.

  Matt just laughed and leaned in to kiss her again. “We don’t have that particular problem right now, so that door can stay closed and we can be steamy together for as long as you want.”

  Carefully, they climbed into the tub, taking turns standing under the spray. Once they were both wet, Matt reached for her body wash and squeezed a good dollop into his hand.

  “Turn around,” he said, tugging her close.

  She pivoted slowly, rubbing her hip and then bottom against him, but he didn’t take the hint. He took his role as back washer seriously, soaping her up everywhere before shifting her back under the water so she could rinse off.

  He used her soap on himself, too, which she liked. She wanted to watch him take himself in hand later. Her brain flashed sharp, hot ideas. Show me what you like, she’d whisper. And he’d show her, because he’d give her anything she wanted.

  He filled his hands again with soap, and gently smoothed his palms over and around her breasts, against her nipples, until her flesh was heavy and hot and so ready to be dried off.

  “Lower,” she breathed.

  He trailed his fingers over her belly.

  Over her mound, just grazing her clit. She rocked into his touch, helping him wash her and turn her on and drive her crazy.

  “Show me,” he murmured, and the echo of her own thought—how right it was, how right he was—ratcheted up her arousal.

  “Slow,” she told him. “Mmm, yeah. Long, slow, hard. You can squeeze me there.”

  He cupped her entire sex and tightened his grip, kissing her at the same time.

  Her head started to spin in the best way. “Bed,” she gasped.

  Somehow he figured out how to turn off the water while still licking his way through all of her erogenous zones, and then it was her turn to blindly grab two towels.

  Drying each other off was another excuse to get tangled up and practice more show and tell with what each other liked. She stroked his chest, the hard planes of his abdomen, and then wrapped her hand around his cock the way he had in the shower.

  That first feel of him, heavy and pulsing against her palm, was electric.

  She breathed his name. “Matt…”

  The next breath was a gasp as he flattened them both against the bathroom door, his thigh insistent between her legs. “Bed,” he growled.

  Right, she’d already said that, too. They were both reduced to single syllables of need. Names, nouns, pleas.

  More, yes, there. Hard. No, slow, yes—again and again, because there were a lot of whispered confirmations back and forth.

  Lick.

  “Oh,” she sighed as he traced his tongue down her neck and over her collarbone. “Definitely bed.”

  They both went for the door at the same time, which made her laugh and him growl again. He stepped back and gestured for her to lead the way, which meant she could feel his gaze on her back, on the bare curve of her skin, her ass, as she led him to her bed.

  A man, in her bed, for the first time in years.

  But she’d wanted this for weeks, and the heat between them had zoomed straight to combustible in the shower.

  This was going to be good.

  “Hey,” he murmured as he caught her around the waist just shy of her bed. He sucked in a breath as their naked bodies collided, his muscles hard against her softer, rounder parts. “God, it’s hard to think when you’re against me like this.”

  She twisted in his arms, and this felt even more incendiary. Her nipples brushed his chest, and heat slicked between her legs.

  Every part of her was eager, wet, greedy.

  “Let’s not think, then,” she said in a rush as their lips connected.

  “Deal.” He lifted her up and onto the bed.

  Her legs fell open and he crawled on top of her, resuming the licking that had driven her to distraction against the bathroom door. His breath brushed the top of her chest and over her breasts, his tongue ci
rcling her nipples one at a time before sucking the left peak into his mouth. His hand found the right, following the same principles she’d whispered to him in the shower. Slow, hard.

  She arched into his firm touch, into the perfect tug of his mouth against her skin.

  They needed a condom and they needed it now.

  “I want to taste you,” he growled as she shoved him toward the bedside table.

  “Later.”

  He laughed and rolled protection over his cock. She reached for that beautiful length and tugged him back between her legs.

  “I need you,” she said softly as she rubbed the crown against her clit, then lower, easing him into her slickness.

  He braced his hands on either side of her and used his entire body to push them together, filling her with three careful, increasingly deep thrusts. On the last one, as her body made way for the last bit of him and he stretched her from the inside out, he caught her gaze and groaned.

  They held a shared, raw connection as he throbbed inside her.

  This was so much more than just having sex again for the first time in ages.

  This was so much more, period.

  “I need you, too.” His voice was thick, the words heavy, and she reached for him. He lowered onto her as he started to move. Fluid, skilled, but with an edge that echoed the raw expression she’d seen in his face.

  Like he barely had a hold on his control here.

  She wanted to make him lose that last bit of it. She wanted to feel all his emotions, all of his need tonight.

  Hooking her arms around his body, she moved with him. Rose to meet each thrust, squeezed around him as he pulled away. She listened to each of his groans and growls and doubled down on all the things that ripped those beautiful noises from his body.

  But she wasn’t the only one with an agenda for pushing the limit. He used his hands and mouth to do the exact same back to her, and before long she was losing her ability to track what he liked and wanted.

  He’d reduced her to the circling, curling, climbing desire deep inside her, a primal sensation of ascension that felt nothing like the functional orgasms she could give herself.

  She burst apart as he closed his mouth once again over her breast and pulled her nipple hard against his fluttering tongue.

  Oh, that tongue.

  Those hands.

  She wrapped herself hard around his body as her climax ripped through her body. With a few shuddering, broken thrusts, he followed her into his own orgasm, and then he collapsed hard on top of her.

  “Fuck,” she finally whispered.

  “Yep. We did—and how,” he said in a strained voice, holding back a laugh.

  She pressed her face against his sweaty shoulder. “Oh, God.”

  “Mmm.” He lifted off just enough to grab the condom, then rolled away.

  She followed and licked his back, giggling the whole time. “That was…perfect. And not even perfectly imperfect. I mean, that was—”

  He rolled her onto her back and settled on top of her, heavy and thick and…actually perfect. “I know what you mean,” he murmured as he traced her jaw with his fingertips. “I think I’m actually speechless.”

  “We’ve already said some nice things,” she whispered.

  “Maybe we should try not talking again.”

  “Again?”

  He grinned.

  Even perfect had an upgrade option with Matt. Yes, again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Matt woke Natasha up the next morning with an erection, an orgasm, and then pancakes.

  It was glorious.

  Then he let her put him to work again.

  They painted both studio apartments. The trim and baseboards still needed to be replaced, and the bathrooms gutted, but at first blush, the apartments looked halfway decent now.

  She double-checked her measurements for the baseboards, then grabbed her power drill and put the last few cover plates on the electrical outlets.

  “I like watching you work with tools,” Matt said as he handed her the last screw.

  She buzzed the drill at him. “Yeah?”

  “You’re fascinating to me.”

  “I like whiskey, cookies, and power tools, Matt. I’m a complicated girl.”

  “Competent girl, too,” he murmured, leaning in for a kiss.

  “With very competent help.” She sucked on his lower lip. “How can I thank you?” She meant it in a dirty way, but Matt’s next kiss was soft and gentle.

  “Let me come back,” he murmured. “Let me get my hands dirty and be helpful. It feels good.” His eyes lit up. “And you feel good, too.”

  “I’ll feel even better in the shower.”

  They tumbled naked into her bed after the shower, and somewhere between orgasms, she lost track of time. So when her phone vibrated late in the afternoon with a text message from Sable, saying they were fifteen minutes away, she was not prepared.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaping into the air.

  “What?”

  “They’re dropping Emily off in fifteen minutes. How much does my hair look like I just had amazing sex?”

  “Yeah, total give away.” He grinned at her as he pulled on his pants. “It’s fine. Ponytail that delightful mane, give me a kiss goodbye, and don’t worry about what they think. Where’s my shirt?”

  She couldn’t find his t-shirt, so she tossed him his buttoned-down, then chased it to give him the world’s fastest kiss before she darted into the bathroom to find a hair elastic.

  When she was done de-sexing her hair and face—god, that flush was both amazing and borderline obscene—she found him downstairs, shoving his feet into his boots.

  “You could stay,” she said weakly. It was dinner time, and then Emily would be off to bed.

  He shook his head. “This isn’t how I want to meet Emily’s dad. And I don’t want to make this more stressful than it needs to be for you.” He cupped her face and gave her one last kiss. The hundredth, maybe, over the last twenty-four hours.

  And definitely the sweetest.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said. She meant it. “Drive safely, and text me when you get home.”

  “Give Emily a secret kiss for me.”

  “Will do.”

  She sagged against the door after he left and waited for the next emotional wave with Emily’s arrival.

  It didn’t take long. Less than a minute after Matt’s heavy, rumbling truck engine sounds disappeared, the quiet purr of David’s import SUV signalled their arrival in her driveway.

  She took a quick glance around the entranceway. It looked old, but the bright orange paint was gorgeous. Her house was going to be stunning when she was done with it. She had every reason to be proud, so she squared her shoulders and opened the door.

  David wasn’t getting further than the entrance, anyway. Her house, her rules. He could say goodbye to Emily right here.

  Her chest seized tight as her ex got out of the car. Sable didn’t, but she waved from behind the passenger side window.

  Tasha waved back as David opened the back door, and then Emily was sliding past his legs and racing toward her.

  She dropped to her knees and let her tiny cannonball power right into her.

  “Mommy!” Emily cried as Natasha buried her face in her daughter’s hair.

  “Missed you, baby.”

  “Me too.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  “Yes. We set up a Christmas tree!”

  God, that hurt. Tasha pasted on a smile and glanced up at David, handsome and urban and so supremely good at faking interest in everything—from her to Christmas and, God forbid, maybe even their daughter. “A tree, eh? Fun!”

  David shrugged. “My parents have an artificial one in the storage space. Sable thought it would be a good way to explain that we’ll go back there over the holidays.”

  Ah. Tasha breathed again and flashed a quick smile toward the car. Good. Sable had the right idea, and it wasn’t just David playin
g at being Daddy Awesome.

  “That’s smart.” She stood up and turned Emily around. “Say goodbye, baby. You’ll see your dad in just a couple of weeks, right?”

  Emily gave David’s legs a tight squeeze, then disappeared inside and upstairs.

  David handed over her bag. A favourite stuffie hung loosely out of the open zipper, and Tasha white-knuckled the doll and the backpack.

  “So that was good?” she asked brightly.

  “We think so.”

  Good lord, learn to think for yourself. “Great. Okay, well, I’ll see you at Christmas. You’ll email an exact date and time? We’re not picky. Meredith is heading to Ottawa before the holidays, so it’ll just be the two of us.” In fact, she probably wouldn’t decorate for the holidays. Maybe it was good that Emily would get that at her dad’s. “Are you thinking of coming up for Christmas Eve? I…” She took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t want to make this an annual thing, but if you wanted to have her for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day this year, I wouldn’t mind. And next year we could split the days?”

  “Sure.” He frowned, like there must be a catch.

  “You’ve got the tree set up,” she said softly. “And I’m not going to have one this year.”

  He gave her an uncomfortable look. “Did you want…to join us?”

  Ha. No. She laughed out loud. “I’m fine. Really. No. Thanks.” She cut herself off. “But I appreciate the invitation.”

  “Since you invited us for Thanksgiving…”

  She’d only invited him, but sure, whatever. Inclusivity. “I’ll have other plans for the time that you have Emily.” She hoped Matt could get away. Now that she’d re-ignited her long-dormant libido, she already missed him.

  David glanced past her. “How’s the house?”

  “Great.”

  “Emily says you don’t have much furniture.”

  “Not yet. We’re going shopping this week.”

  “She has— Does she have everything she needs?”

  Tasha tried and failed not to scowl. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  He reached out and stopped her from closing the door. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “Are you okay?”