Matthew dragged his teeth over my bottom lip, and I groaned when the cab stopped. “Of course we found the one cabbie in Boston who knows every shortcut between Beacon Hill and the Waterfront,” he said.
“Burroughs Wharf,” the driver yelled.
Matthew plucked me from the cab and lifted me over the curb as if I were a small sack of potatoes. I looked up after cinching my raincoat’s belt, and stared at the building. This was a super swanky condo building, not a cozy tavern or thumping club. This was where helived. “Where are we going?”
“My place,” he said. “We can have a drink and talk and stare at the ocean and…whatever. Whatever you want.”
I stopped walking, my fingers slipping out of his grip. This wasn’t what I anticipated when I turned the decision-making over to my instincts.
Shameless bar flirting? No big deal. Street corner kissing followed by cab kissing? Slightly bigger deal. Going to a guy’s home little more than twenty-four hours after meeting him? Huge deal.
At least for me.
When did I give him the impression I was ready to go home with him? Was there a switch I flipped between talk of seesaws and soul mates? And he was evidently a manwhore. Only a manwhore would toss me in a cab and assume I wanted to go to his apartment for sex.
Sex. I did not want that at all. Lots of sex. Good sex. Dirty sex. Hot sex.
Matthew looked likeverygood sex.
Gulp. Okay, so that didn’t sound terrible.
“What’s wrong, Lauren?”
“I should go.” I nodded to myself and hitched my tote bag higher on my shoulder. Too much, too fast. I was already feeling tomorrow’s pangs of regret. Oh, but when Matthew aimed that stare at me, that drop-your-panties-right-now look, I sensed myself drowning in his desire.
“This thing you’re doing,” the manwhore smirked, gesturing up and down my body. “It’s insanely sexy.”
I looked over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes. I didn’t do this sort of thing for a reason. “Mr. Walsh. Thank you for everything. I’m going to go.”
Never make eye contact with the manwhore. He’ll turn you into an irrational swoon-puddle concerned only with getting your hands on his rear end.
As I turned away, my narrow heel wedged between the cobblestones and this sack of potatoes hit the ground.
I couldn’t even walk away from the hottest, manwhoriest body I’d ever touched and stand behind my principles without going splat. Apparently the universe wasn’t granting me any graceful exits this evening.
I heard the manwhore swearing under his breath before his arm circled my waist and he lifted me from the ground. “Easy there,” he said.
He ignored thin rivulets of blood trickling down my bare legs and staining his dark gray trousers while I brushed the pebbles from my palms. “This seems to happen a lot, sweetness. Let’s get you upstairs and take care of those scrapes.”
“I’m fine. Just a skinned knee, no big deal. I’m going to get a cab,” I insisted, staring at his shirt’s buttons.
He dipped to meet my eyes, his brows furrowed. The pads of his thumbs brushed across my cheeks, my lips, and down my neck. “What is your deal? Are you with someone?”
“No!” I laughed at the definitive tone in my voice. I didn’t mean to sound so emphatic, and any minute Matthew was going to realize I wasn’t the kind of girl he wanted to take home. I didn’t do this—I didn’t knowhow—and this entire exchange was stepping far beyond my sphere of expertise. He’d feel it or sense it or taste it, and he’d send me on my way with a pat on my naïve little head. “I mean…no, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
“Good. Good.” Matthew framed my face with his hands and brought his lips a breath from mine. “I’m going to kiss you again,” he murmured, sliding his fingers along the base of my neck. “And I’d rather you not run away this time.”
I dodged his mouth. “Is this some kind of thorough, manwhorish customer service?”
“Hell no.” He bent his head to my level and found my lips, and it wasn’t a kiss—it was an experience. Kissing involved lips and tongues, but this was teeth and growls, fingers carving notches into my ass and impatient hips bumping against mine for more friction. This was my heart crawling all the way up my throat and pounding there, suffocating me in these breathless seconds.
He groaned when my nails scraped under his collar and over his scalp, and that sound unfurled something tight, something desperate inside me.
“Do you do this a lot?”
Matthew’s hands moved to my shoulders and he edged us apart. “Ineverdo this. My sisters are the only women who have seen the inside of my place. Okay? This is about you. You’re hot as fuck, all sexy and bossy. That strict teacher voice? I’ve been hard as a fucking stone since yesterday because of it, plus the fact you’re so insanely fucking hot. I don’t like the implication that this is happening for any reason other than you.”
Lifting my chin, I glimpsed the rise in Matthew’s trousers. It was amazing, really, how everything changed in a blink of an eye. Perhaps it wasn’t that quickly, but it didn’t take long and I was watching from a distance again, willing myself to be brave, be bold.
