“That’s too bad. I’d love to see you on your knees,” he said, and licked his lips. “It isn’t what I want, though.”
“What do you want, then?”
Matt leaned in, and warm breath tickled her ear. “To earn the privilege to worship you at yours.”
She felt his words. Right where he meant for her to.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” His hands on her arms, Matt pulled her to his chest and smiled. “I like you, and all I want is the chance to get to know you better, so can we start over?”
Gina shrugged, because how could she say no to that smile of his?
She couldn’t.
“What are you doing tonight, Gina Rossi?”
“Going to the movies with my sister-in-law.”
“Change of plans, bunny.” His palms ran down her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, to squeeze her forearms. “I’ve got a delicious pizza waiting in the kitchen. We’re gonna talk and you’re gonna watch a movie with me right here.”
“Think so, do you?” She found it difficult to breathe when he was this close. Gina put a modicum of space between them.
“I know so.” He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her toward the door. “C’mon.”
“Fine,” she said, and crossing the threshold, Gina looked at him. “But I won’t be having sex with you.”
“Why not?”
Good question.
She should want to, right? There were probably a million other girls who’d sell their souls to be in her shoes right now, but something told her to tread carefully with Matthew McCready.
“I’m kidding.” He chuckled, fingers gripping into her hip. “No fucking, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I won’t take what hasn’t been offered. But once you give it to me, fully, and with intention…”
Pausing at the threshold, she glanced at him.
Dark eyes gleaming in the lamplight, his mouth curved into a smirk so subtle she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.
“… you won’t need to think at all.”
Gina looked around his fancy house as Matt led her down the hall. To her right was a formal living room, judging by the look of it. She spied an oriental rug on the polished wood floors. Leather furniture draped with throws of fur. Avant-Garde artwork on dark-painted walls. An antique record player. A mirrored disco ball? It worked, though. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. His tastes were an eclectic mix.
After passing a couple of closed doors, the hallway opened into a great room with a chef’s dream of a kitchen on one end and a more comfortable-looking TV room on the other. A row of glass doors opened up to an outdoor terrace and a tree-laden back garden beyond.
The pizza sat on a slab of quartz with cobalt and copper veining. “It’s probably cold by now.”
“That’s all right. I can eat pizza right out of the fridge.”
“Three seventy-five.” Gina set the temperature on his high-end, pro-style gas oven. “Five minutes should do the trick.”
“Wine?” Matt offered, glancing at her from over his shoulder after he popped the pizza in.
“Sure.”
