He looked up at her, his grin positively sinful. “I have an ulterior motive.” Tamryn crooked a curious brow. “As much as I’m enjoying rubbing your feet, there are other parts of your body that I’ve been dying to touch all day.”
She set her champagne glass on the side table and reached for him, pulling him on top of her. “You do not have to butter me up with foot rubs in order to get that,” she said.
Matt leaned in and captured her lips. He then made quick work of relieving her of her clothes, getting them both naked in record time. He switched their positions, sliding underneath her and fitting her on top of him so that she straddled his lap. Tamryn braced her hands on his chest as with one hand he held her waist while he used the other to guide his rigid erection inside her.
Their twin groans of pleasure rent the air. She moved up and down his length, her head pitched back in ecstasy as she relished the feel of the silky, rock-hard flesh invading her body. She pumped her hips, increasing the pace until she was driving up and down in rapid succession.
Tamryn erupted, her world shattering as her orgasm hit swift and hard. She fell forward, resting her head against Matt’s chest.
He ran a damp palm down her back before cradling the back of her head in his hand. He used his other hand to lift her chin. His eyes filled with hot promise, he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”
A shudder coursed through her bloodstream at the seductive tone she heard in his voice.
Matt slipped from underneath her and carried her to the bed. Tamryn’s limbs were still so weak from the aftershocks of her first orgasm that moving was practically impossible.
With Matt, that wasn’t an issue.
He climbed on the bed and spread her legs wide. He gave no warning at all before he dove for her center, his tongue lashing at her heated flesh. He flattened his palms against her inner thighs and pushed her legs wider, giving him unencumbered access to the very heart of her.
Tamryn pitched her head back, thrusting her hips forward to meet his skillful mouth. Sensation shimmered along her skin as he drove his tongue inside her, over and over and over again.
The familiar quake started low in her belly, but the build-up wasn’t slow this time. This time she came hard and fast, her legs shaking with the force of her release.
Tamryn collapsed back on the bed. She couldn’t move, could barely think.
The only thought that managed to make it past the sensual haze surrounding her was the difficulty she would face when it was time to leave this man. Of all the things she’d ever done in her life, saying goodbye to Matt would be the hardest.
Chapter 11
Matt pulled upto the two-story home on Camp Street in New Orleans’s historic Garden District. Grabbing his laptop from the front passenger seat, he jumped out of his car and slammed the door shut. As he marched up the walkway, he realized that he could count on one hand how many times he’d been here in the five years since his father bought this home. It was five times more than he’d wanted to darken this doorstep.
The front door opened before Matt had a chance to knock on it.
“Hello, Matthew,” Marion Samuels answered. Matt stared at his family’s former housekeeper, not surprised to see her standing here.
“Where is he?” Matt bit out.
“He’s in his office,” she said, moving out of the way so that Matt could pass.
He refused to allow her being there to affect him. He no longer cared what his father did with his own life. It was when he stuck his nose into Matt’s business that they had a problem.
He bounded up the stairs and headed straight for the rear of the house, toward his father’s home office. He didn’t even give him the courtesy of knocking; it wasn’t as if his father would understand courtesy anyway. Matt walked into the large office and spotted his father through the French doors, sitting out on the balcony with his legs crossed and a newspaper opened in his lap.
Matt went to him and set the laptop on the small, round iron table next to his father’s chair. The only other thing on the table was an ashtray that held a smoldering cigarette.
Matt braced his feet apart and folded his hands over his chest. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Don’t start this with me, Matthew.”
Leroy picked up the cigarette and took a long drag on it. Matt had to fight the urge to slap it out of his hands. The only reason he didn’t was out of regard for his mother, who had demanded Matt show this bastard some respect, despite the fact that he hadn’t earned a damn bit of it.
His father gestured to the laptop. “If you brought that to show me the commercial, it’s not necessary. I already saw it and approved it.”
“Ididn’t,” Matt said. “Even though there’s a voice that sounds remarkably like mine at the end of the commercial saying that I do. Whose voice is it anyway?”
“A voice actor. He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”
“I could have you arrested,” Matt spat.
