Jeannie Watt Read online

  She glanced out the window, just in case. He hadn’t left. His truck was still parked next to hers, moonlight reflecting off its hood.

  “Looking for something?”

  Tara slowly turned, leaning back against the counter as she held his gaze from across the room.

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m looking for you.”

  “Any particular reason?” Matt asked, propping a shoulder against the doorframe. Behind his glasses, his eyes were hooded.

  Tara could feel the undercurrent swirling around her, engulfing her. Seducing her.

  A tingle traveled up her spine.

  Matt, studying her, loose-limbed, handsome…watchful.

  It was Matt who finally moved, pushing off from the doorframe and slowly crossing the room to Tara. He stopped in front of her and looked down at her for a heartbeat before settling his hands at her waist. Tara thought he’d pull her close, but instead he surprised her by boosting her up onto the counter and, once she was settled, nudging her knees open to move into the V of her thighs. His eyes never left hers.

  So that is how it’s going to be.

  She reached up to remove his glasses and found the act oddly intimate. She set the glasses aside and looked into those gorgeous hazel eyes. And what she saw there made her shiver in anticipation.

  With slow deliberation, she reached out to take his face between her hands, sliding her sensitive palms over the lightly stubbled planes of his cheeks. The corners of her mouth tilted up at the sensation and then she leaned forward until her lips just touched his in the lightest of kisses. A butterfly touch. Brief. Promising.

  She pulled back and his mouth followed hers. When the back of her head touched the cabinet behind her, his lips settled.

  His mouth was warm, wet and demanding. No teasing, no light caresses this time. Serious kisses, deep kisses, kisses meant to inflame. Kisses that were doing exactly what he intended them to do.

  She felt herself dampening and she pushed herself against the hardness in his jeans, growing wetter at the intimate contact. She hooked her legs around his hips pulling him even closer, savoring every nuance of the sensations traveling through her body.

  She let out a sigh when Matt’s hot mouth finally left hers and he leaned back.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I have to leave tomorrow. I go to work on Monday.”

  “I know.”

  “So, I guess what I’m asking is—”

  “I meant what I said last night.”

  Matt took a moment to consider her flat statement, and then asked, “What exactly did Somers do to you?”

  Tara’s gaze didn’t waver. “He was rough.”

  He gave her a long, searching look and apparently understood that that was all the answer he was going to get. “And if we do this, what about tomorrow? When I have to leave?”

  Tara still held his gaze. “You leave. I stay.” It sounded so simple…she hoped it was. She cared for him, trusted him, but realistically there was nothing to hold them together. They’d both survived without each other for a long time. They would no doubt continue to.

  “As long as we understand each other.”

  “We understand,” Tara murmured. “Totally. And now—” she tilted her head “—I really, really think you should kiss me again.”

  Matt didn’t have to be asked twice. He reached behind her to slide his hands under her seat and pull her even more tightly against him as his tongue pushed into her waiting mouth in a hot kiss so intense that Tara felt as if a fuse had been lit inside of her.

  He brought one hand up to pop the silver concho barrette and it rattled to the counter, not breaking for once. He buried his hands in the thick hair as he continued to lean into her, kissing her.

  “Are we going to do this…here?” Tara finally asked on a moan. Here would be okay. She was already working on the buttons of his shirt.

  Matt let her finish the job, even though her fingers were clumsier than usual. When she was done, she pushed the blue chambray off his shoulders. It slid down his arms and landed in a heap behind him. She immediately leaned forward to do something she had wanted to do for weeks. She tasted him, trailing her tongue over the faintly salty surface of his shoulder muscles, teasing her lips with the smattering of dark hair on his chest. She circled a nipple, first tentatively, then more boldly as his hands bunched in her hair. She nipped him and he groaned. She traveled on, up his chest, up his throat, over the stubble on his chin to his lips. And then she buried her tongue in his mouth, pressing herself against him.

  Matt never answered her question, but when he lifted her up off the counter and carried her down the short hall to her bedroom with her legs still hooked around his hips, she figured his answer was no. They wouldn’t do it in the kitchen. At least, not yet.

  It wasn’t until he gently set her back on her feet in her bedroom that she felt the quick and brutal stab of anxiety.

  What on earth was she doing? Had she not learned this lesson the hard way? That sex was not her friend? That it hurt? Badly?

  And then she looked at Matt and the anxiety ebbed.

  “I need you to…go slow.”

  He brought his head down to touch hers. “I will go very, very slow. And anytime you say stop, I’ll stop.”

  Tara nodded against his forehead and he briefly tasted her lips before he took her by the hand and led her to the bed. He sat and pulled her, still standing, between his knees, looking up at her.

  “Slowly,” he reiterated and then he punctuated his words by peeling the T-shirt she wore up and over her head. Tara pulled her hair free and shook it down her back. Matt watched the movement with fascination. His hands came up to span her bare waist as the heavy strands dropped into place, and he kept his eyes on her face as he slowly pressed a kiss to her abdomen. Tara pulled in a sharp breath. He slid his mouth over her smooth skin, making circles, tickling her navel with his tongue. Tara’s muscles seized and she unconsciously fisted her hands in his hair.

  She made a little noise and bit her lip to keep from making more as Matt’s slick mouth traveled up to the edge of her bra. He flicked his tongue under the lace and her nipples contracted, almost painfully.

  She glanced down, color rising in her cheeks as she saw that he was watching her, keeping his eyes on her as he teased her, waiting, no doubt, for some sign that she wanted to stop. But she didn’t want to stop. Not yet.

  Matt raised his hand to her bra, continuing to hold her gaze as he flicked a finger against the plastic clasp. It popped open. Tara’s breasts fell free and only then did Matt pull his eyes away from hers. He touched her, lightly at first, caressing the silk of her skin with his rough-edged fingers, cupping her fullness, filling his palms. Tara pressed herself forward into his hands and he took her up on the unspoken invitation, flicking his tongue over one nipple, causing Tara to suck in a sharp breath.

  And then he suckled.

  Tara thought she was going to lose control right there. She had never, ever felt anything quite so exquisite as Matt’s tongue, his lips, his teeth, on her sensitive nipples, first one, then the other and back again. By the time he was finished, her breath was shaky. Her entire body was shaky.

  “Are you all right?” Matt asked quietly.

  “Fine,” Tara responded breathlessly. Her voice was shaky, too.

  He continued to nuzzle her breast as his fingers trailed back down her abdomen, and the ends of his fingers hooked on the waistband of her jeans. She stilled as Matt worked on the snap closure, then froze as he started to drag the zipper down.

  Matt stopped instantly.

  Tara frowned, annoyed with herself and her reaction. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to be a victim of Ryan. She yanked her zipper down in one quick movement and quickly shucked out of both her panties and her jeans.

  And then she just stood there. In front of him. Naked and uncertain.

  Matt reached for her a
nd pulled her to his chest, rolling her over him and tumbling her onto the bed, coming to rest partially on top of her. And then he kissed her, wiping all uncertainty out of her mind. His mouth was demanding, but his hands were gentle, caressing, creating a dichotomy of sensation.

  The denim of his jeans was rough against her bare skin, creating another surprisingly erotic contrast, but it was his hands that Tara was most aware of, hands that were finally traveling down to where she wanted…something.

  He touched her then, rubbing his thumb over the most sensitive part of her body and she gasped. He kept kissing her, but it was his fingers she concentrated on as they moved over the slick dampness between her legs. She gasped again as one finger penetrated her, felt herself close in on it, move against it. He kept rubbing with his thumb, dipping into her with his fingers.

  Tara was losing control. She tried to stop. She really did, but his fingers would not stop, they gave her no reprieve, showed her no mercy. She cried out, biting her lips as the sensation built to an unbearable level and then, suddenly, the world exploded around her. Blood pounded in her temples. Colors flashed. It went on, an eternity of throbbing sensation, until finally she dropped her head against Matt’s chest and took a shaky breath. Only then did his fingers still.

  She couldn’t believe it. She raised her head to look at Matt in wonder. So this was sex? This was an orgasm? No wonder people were so enthusiastic.

  He smiled.

  Tara pushed her hair back and took another breath. She reached for Matt’s jeans, deliberately popping open the buttons on the classic 501s one after the other. She was glad he wasn’t wearing a zipper because she had a feeling she’d have had a difficult time getting it down. He raised his hips and she worked the jeans over his legs, while he kicked his shoes off, letting her fingers travel over the taut hair-covered muscles of his thighs and calves, loving the sensual contrast between his body and hers. She dumped the jeans on the floor and went back then to take his boxers on the same slow trail. But as soon as her hands touched the navy blue cotton she stopped.

  “Something wrong?” Tara heard the concern in his voice and she forced herself to shake her head. He propped himself up and reached for her chin, tilting it so he could see her face.

  “Scared?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  “We can stop,” he said. Her eyes flashed up to his.

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  A gentle hand came up to stroke her hair then, pushing it away from her face so he could see her.

  “Are you sure?” She gave him an ironic look and he smiled again. “I know…you’re too cautious to be sure. But you have to be this time.”

  She smiled a little. “I’m sure.” And then his expression sobered. He took her hand and guided it down, letting her run her palm over the hard length of him. His eyes went shut as her fingers closed around him through the cotton of his boxers, then he forced them open again.

  He gently worked his boxers free of her grip and slipped out of them, then rolled over and reached for his pants. A second later he held a condom packet. He reached down and rolled the latex sheath into place before guiding her hand back down to encircle him. “Like an Eagle Scout…”

  “I like the way you think,” Tara murmured, trying to hide her nerves as he moved gently on top of her, nudging her thighs apart with his knee. She felt her body go rigid. This was when the pain had started before, when, despite his promise to go slow her first time, Ryan had lost all patience, and roughly shoved his way home. And that had only been the beginning.

  “Shh,” Matt soothed, bringing her back to the here and now. He kissed the corner of her mouth, stroked her hair, traced his tongue lightly over her lips. She was starting to go liquid again, starting to relax, but then he shifted and she felt the blunt pressure of him against her and once again she felt the panic. Her eyes flashed up to his, seeking reassurance. He smiled down at her. Patient. Gentle.

  “Just say stop. Anytime.”

  The tender words were what she needed. She made a move against him and he in turn, pushed gently against her, causing one of the most incredible sensations she had ever felt. She reached down for him then, sliding her hand between their bodies, encircling him once again with her fingers, arching a little as he started to ease into her, slowly…oh, so slowly.

  Tara’s eyes drifted shut, focusing on the exquisite pressure she felt as he moved farther inside of her, filling her.

  He held himself still for a moment as she arched against him, and then he eased back out. Tara bit her lip as he pushed back in again. All the way in. In one smooth stroke this time. Then out. Oh. My. Goodness.

  She became aware that her breath was coming in pants as he moved in her. And then, at some hazy point, she noticed that his movements were no longer slow and sensually deliberate. He pushed into her harder and faster. Tara clutched at his back, then fisted her hands in his hair, drowning in sensation as he drove himself into her again and again.

  It didn’t seem possible. Couldn’t be possible…could not…but it was.

  Tara cried out as she exploded around him, arching against Matt’s body just seconds before she felt the muscles in his back go rigid. He gave one last thrust as his body emptied into hers. And then he carefully lowered himself down to rest on top of her.

  Matt lay still for a moment, his breathing rough and unsteady. Tara cradled his head to her breast, loving the feel of him sprawled possessively on top of her. Then he lifted himself up and reached out to tenderly brush the hair back from Tara’s face.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “If you did, I hope you do it again real soon,” she murmured. He rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him, holding her against his chest, her hair spilling over them.

  “Trust me. That can be arranged.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WEAK SUNLIGHT FILTERED in through the lace curtains covering Tara’s bedroom windows. It was probably close to four-thirty. She couldn’t see the clock because of Matt’s shoulder, and she was afraid to move, afraid of waking Matt, afraid of having to face the reality she had so blithely created without any thought of consequence. The night had been incredible…she’d never known passion before, had never felt so close to a person in her life—a person who’d be walking out of her life in just hours….

  To say she was confused was a massive understatement.

  She’d known for quite a while she trusted Matt, but last night she came to realize that the feelings she had for him went beyond trust. The depth of emotion he provoked in her both terrified and astonished her. She’d never felt anything like this before. She didn’t have any idea how to deal with it. Didn’t even know if it was real.

  She needed time to think, without being swayed by Matt’s nearness.

  She’d been lying awake for over an hour when Matt finally shifted and then got out of bed, crossing to the hall leading to the bathroom without looking back. She swallowed as she watched his impersonal exit. Already she missed his warmth. A very bad sign, no doubt.

  She forced herself out of bed, feeling numb as she started picking up her scattered clothing. It took some time. She found her missing sock under the dresser, her left shoe in the hallway.

  Matt came out of the bathroom as she was buttoning her blouse, which seemed to be missing a button. She gave him what she hoped was an acceptable morning-after smile. He smiled back, but she could see that he, too, was dealing with the reality brought on by daylight. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere except for where he was.

  Say something.

  She didn’t know what to say. She could face down bullies in parking lots, she could tell people off in public meetings…but she had never, not even with Nicky, discussed her deepest fears and feelings.

  How was she supposed to start now, when she didn’t even know what she was dealing with?

  TARA STOOD NEXT to the rumpled bed, her fingers working on the buttons of her blouse but not quite getting the job done. It was all Matt
could do not to brush her fingers away and finish up himself, but he was afraid he might start working in the wrong direction. He’d been afraid to kiss her good-morning for the same reason. He wanted to make love to her one more time, but he’d felt her lying tensely next to him, wide-awake, for a good hour. He might have worked his way around that, but she made no move to touch him, kept as much distance between them as her undersized bed would allow. The one time he had eased his body against hers, she’d moved away. Obviously, she intended to abide by their verbal contract and Matt knew that, for her sake and his, he needed to do the same.

  He had to face that he was heading back to his world today. Making love to Tara again would only prolong the inevitable.

  Her words of the night before echoed in his head as he shrugged into his shirt. You leave. I stay.

  It made sense and Tara appeared to be satisfied with the agreement. She even looked as if she wanted him to leave as soon as decorum allowed. He decided to give her a break and take off.

  “I need to get going,” he said, but he couldn’t help making one last shot at reviving the togetherness they had shared the night before. “I do have time to make breakfast before I go.” He tried a smile. “No oatmeal.”

  Tara shook her head. “No breakfast, but thanks.”

  Enough said.

  TARA WATCHED MATT drive away after a stilted goodbye that had been uncomfortable to both of them, a brief embrace, an impersonal brush of lips. And that was it. He was out of her life. She took a shaky breath.

  Think. She had to think about this.

  She was the one who’d laid down the rules, but he had agreed to them, had given no indication this morning that he regretted them. He seemed to cling to them in the same way a drowning man clutched a life preserver.

  He’d been clear about his no-relationship policy, as had she. It made sense. It was logical.