Meanwhile, Tennessee had never met a task he couldn’t make a daily chore or any kind of commitment he couldn’t turn into a lifetime of obsessive dedication.
The one girlfriend he’d had he had decided he wanted to marry before he really understood what that meant.
He was all about settling down, hard.Matilda was all about setting herself free.
There was no possible way that this could work out between them, and he knew that.He knew it even as she took him upstairs and led him down the hall to the room at the end.He knew it and he did nothing to stop it.
Hell, he participated.
She pulled him into the bedroom with her and he was not at all surprised to find that it was a riot of color.The bed was covered in brightly hued pillows and a patchwork sort of quilt in almost too many vivid shades to name.She had painted the walls a dark turquoise and almost every piece of furniture in it was a different, clashing color—except altogether, it felt happy.Joyful.And very much like Matilda.
It was also not remotely messy, which he couldn’t help thinking was an essential truth about this woman.Something she kept hidden, like the outbuilding that everyone assumed she kept in some kind of wild state when he’d seen for himself the care she had to put into it to keep it clean.Everyone assumed that everything she touched was as disheveled as she sometimes was, he hadn’t seen that here in the house.
Clutter wasn’t the same thing as dirty, and her bedroom wasn’t even cluttered.It was cozy and it faced east, so when the sun felt like rising in these dark months, it would make everything shine.Matilda most of all.
That image threatened to undo him.
She pushed him back so he sat down on the bed, and he let her.Right then he would have let her do anything.
And as he watched, she continued to smile so brightly and beautifully straight at him as she began to peel off her clothes.
Surely, he would say something at any moment to put the brakes on this, to contain it or redirect it, but he didn’t.
Because she was acting out the fantasy he’d had all those years ago.And as he watched, she stripped down until she was finally standing before him, gloriously naked.
Then she gazed at him, expectantly, and he felt something seem to clutch inside his chest.
Because he wanted, more than anything, to be the man she saw when she looked at him like this.He wanted, for the first time in his life, to be someone other than Tennessee Lisle.Not that he had anything against himself, but it turned out that he was tired of the persona he’d built up around his name.
He wanted to be the man he saw reflected in her gray eyes.Because he could see that she found him hot.Exciting.And maybe just a little bit dangerous.
He’d never been so hard.He’d never wanted a woman more.
She was like a fantasy come to life, and he refused to let himself ruin it.So he didn’t say a word.
He only stripped off his own clothes in reply, and stood up so he could swing her up into his arms at last.
At last, because it felt overdue.As if they’d been working toward this forever, because it felt as if they had, even while it also felt as if this had all happened so fast.It was a rush, a breathlessness, yet at the same time it felt inevitable.
Undeniable.As if there had never been any possibility that they would end up anywhere but here.
Matilda wrapped herself around him, pressing her perfect breasts to his chest.Tennessee tipped them both over, back down onto that bedspread, and then he lost track of time.
Because the only thing there was, the only thing that mattered, was Matilda.
The way their bodies fit together.Her curves against the wall of his chest.The prick of her nipples and their velvety texture against his skin.
He followed the urge he’d had so many years ago and put his mouth on her skin.He traced his way from her belly, down lower, tasting gold all the way.He kept going until he could find her sweet heat, where he settled in and demonstrated what a little bit of stern responsibility and daily discipline could do.
A few times, just to make sure he was imparting the right message.
Only when he had her bucking her hips and crying out his name for the third time did he move on.He flipped her over so he could finally admit to himself how deeply obsessed he was with that butt of hers that he was forever seeing around town and had wanted to get his hands on for what seemed like a lifetime.
He indulged himself there, too.
When she pushed against him, tipping him over so she could crawl on top of him, he let that happen.And she wasn’t any easier on him.
The way she touched him made his heart seem to crack hard against his ribs.She looked filled with wonder.Like he was a gift, and everywhere she touched him he felt like fire—and she shivered like she could feel the same heat in her.
