Sweet baby Jesus. Am I out of my mind? I could excuse the first time—well, not quite, but I could argue that the man had pushed me to the edge, and the hand job was me pushing back. Self-preservation of sorts. Not sure that would make sense to anyone with a functioning brain, but it’s the darn truth. The fact that it aroused me was only an aftereffect.
But today…
I roll onto my side and press my face into the pillow.
Today, I crossed a line.
And I’m not sorry.
That’s the worst part. I lie here in the dark with my body still humming from what he did to me, with the taste of him stillon my tongue, with the memory of his weight pressing me into his couch, and I’m not sorry. I keep waiting for the regret to land, and it doesn’t. What lands instead is the way he watched me when I begged him to promise. The roughness in his voice when he said not from me. Not ever. The fact that for the first time in days I felt like someone had me.
I finally glance at the alarm clock, horrified to discover it’s not even midnight yet and won’t be for another hour. Looks like I’m not getting any sleep tonight.
Damn it. Damn him.
If I’m not sleeping, then neither is he. I sit up before I can talk myself out of it. I can’t lie here in the dark for seven more hours with my body remembering him and my head spinning circles. I need to look at him in the light and figure out what this is. Or I need to look at him and decide it’s nothing. Either way, I can’t do it from here.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor sending a shiver up my spine. I don’t change out of my nightshirt but simply grab a coat from my closet, snatch my phone and keys from the nightstand, and sneak out of the house, keeping the lights off so as not to wake my grandparents or alert Penny, who sleeps in their room. They both have trouble hearing anyway, so I’m not too worried about them hearing the car engine.
The roads are empty because only someone reckless would be caught driving in the middle of the night to talk to her patient about the sex they had, but reckless is what I am tonight.
His lights are off when I pull up to his house, but I notice one come on as I turn off the engine. I take a few breaths to calm my racing heart before stepping out. The front door opens before I can knock, and then Matt steps out. He’s wearing sweatpants again—he seems to have an endless supply of them—and he’sshirtless. I’ve seen the man shirtless before, but tonight, he looks different. I feel the saliva dry up in my mouth, and my mind goes blank as I stare at him.
I open my mouth to say something—anything—but what comes out isn’t what I expected.
“What is the second lesson?”
Hands circle my waist, and my mouth is on his before either of us can think. His hands drop to my hips and tighten—for half a second I feel him start to lift, the instinct of a man who’s used to relying on his strength. Then he catches himself, the muscle in his jaw tightening as his left shoulder warns him off. His grip stays, but he walks us backward through the door instead, his mouth never leaving mine, kicking the door shut behind us.
It barely registers where we’re going. His lips attack mine with need, and I manage to surface long enough to spot the bed before his mouth is back on mine and his hand is tugging open my coat.
“Take it off,” he growls, holding me close as I release him to shrug off the coat. Something flashes in his eyes when he sees what I wear underneath. The thin, white nightshirt doesn't leave much to the imagination, and the way those eyes run over my body sends a wave of heat warming my core.
Matt walks me to the foot of the bed, and his hands settle on my hips, holding me there. “I want you naked.”
Christ.
I grip the hem of my shirt and yank it over my head before letting it drop to the floor, leaving me completely naked in front of a man I have no business wanting. The desire I see in his eyes as he scales over my body sends wetness pooling between mythighs. “I…I want to see you naked too,” I manage, needing to feel the press of his body against mine. Without any barriers this time. If I’m going to cross the line again, then I’ll make it worth the consequences.
His eyes remain on mine as he steps out of his sweats, and I gasp as his cock bobs free. The sheer size of it, the length and the thickness of him, never fails to amaze me. It keeps getting bigger every time I see him, or maybe it’s just my imagination. How is that supposed to fit, I wonder. How much is it going to hurt?
He doesn’t let me overthink it as he cups my nape and pulls me back into a kiss, wiping all thought from my mind.
We tumble back onto the bed, and I sigh at the press of his naked skin against mine. My hands scale his shoulders and back greedily, seeking to feel his muscles shift under my fingertips. I moan into the kiss as my nipples harden against him, turning sensitive, so I move to rub the peaks against his chest.
“You’re wet,” he rasps against my lips, the hardness of his cock nudging against my folds.
I whimper when he slides his hand between us and dips his middle finger into my pussy. Pleasure shoots through me as he finds my aching clit, which has been sensitive since I left his house hours earlier. My body responds to his touch like it knows him, almost like I belong to him.
“Fuck, how are you so wet?” he rasps, bumping his nose against my jaw as he moves to kiss my throat, panting into my skin and sending pockets of goosebumps spreading all over my body. “I want to be inside of you. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you left.”
Since I panicked and ran out, he means. “Do it.”
“Not yet,” he rasps, pushing up to take my lips in another memory-erasing kiss. “I want you to be ready when I fuck your tight little pussy for the first time.” My heart jumps at his words, and when he pushes back to look at me, I realize that he knows.
“How?”
Humor finds room in those heated eyes. “How do I know you’re a virgin?” I whimper when his middle finger slides down to my entrance, tapping at the sensitive nerves. “It’s written all over you, Ashley. But the awkward hand job you gave me clued me in on it.”
