Page 60 of Twisted Beauty

He couldn’t even remember if he’d shut off the burner before carrying her back to bed. At least the house didn’t burn down overnight.

Matt untangled his limbs from Liv’s and slipped out from between the sheets. She rolled over onto her back, still asleep, and he watched her for a moment. Hair splayed across the pillow, plump lips parted as she breathed rhythmically, slender arms stretched above her head. He had to stop himself from tearing the covers off her hips and legs so he could take in the entire length of her.

God, he wanted to run his tongue down her body again.

He’d had the most incredible sex of his life last night, with very little time left over for sleep. At least part of him didn’t want that to end.

He pulled a pair of boxers up over his erection and headed for the kitchen.

Yep, just a disgusting vat of fettuccine noodles that were fat and mushy after soaking overnight. Well, he’d deal with that later. First, coffee. His houseguest would want that.

Houseguest. Was that what she was?

Neither of them wanted more. He sure as hell hoped so anyway. He didn’t need an instant replay of the fiasco with Elle. She’d chased him all over town trying to interfere with anyone else he wanted to date. Trying to stake some kind of claim on him when they’d talked about it over and over, agreeing that what they both wanted was a casual fling.

As he waited for the water to boil, he thought about what he’d say to Liv when she woke up. He didn’t know enough about her to know how she’d handle this. And, worse, she was best friends with Zach’s girlfriend. Katie would make everyone’s life miserable if he hurt Liv.

Matt had just finished adding the water and coffee to his French press when he heard the shower turn on. His vision was suddenly filled with the image of a naked Liv, with water streaming over her breasts and down her body, rivulets running down between her legs where his tongue needed to be.

Unable to stop himself, he headed toward the bedroom. But he didn’t make it even halfway down the hall before he heard his phone ding.

Shit. He’d forgotten about the real world. About Tito. He rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed it off the counter where he’d left it sitting all night.

There were at least a dozen texts. All from people who lived and worked on his grandfather’s block. He flipped through the texts. Most were group messages, asking for help with mopping up and drying out several of the shops that had flooded.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He hadn't called Tito since yesterday after breakfast, damn it. He’d been so caught up in Liv, and finally getting his hands on that delectable little body of hers, he hadn’t even thought about checking in again. If something happened to his grandfather last night, Matt would never forgive himself.

Tito had been alone in caring for Lita, and then alone in his suffering after. Well, not completely alone. Cousins and relatives came and went, helping the best they could. Not Matt. He didn’t even know Lita was sick until it was too late. His mother never told him. The very least he could do was be there for his grandfather now.

He dialed Tito’s number and it went straight to voicemail. He dialed again. After the third time, he gave up without bothering to leave a message. No one would ever hear it. Tito didn’t believe in voicemail. Magic, yes. Technology, not so much.

Matt rushed back toward the bedroom just as the shower water shut off. He knocked.

“Liv, we need to go,” he said through the door. How was it that he could want to throw it open so badly just to get a look at her naked and wet when he had no idea what was really going on at Tito’s? “There’s been flooding on Basilio Badillo.”

“Where?”

He sighed, and realized he could just leave her here and get going immediately. Or would she follow him by herself and he’d have two people to worry about? “Tito’s street. Some of the shops are flooded. Why don’t you stay here and relax, and I’ll be back when I can?”

“Not a chance. I’m ready to go.” She swung open the door. “Thanks for drying my clothes, by the way.”

She was already dressed, he realized with a flash of disappointment. In her own clothes. The ones he’d washed and dried after they’d been soaked in the storm. Cutoff shorts and a yellow tank top, wet hair dripping down her back. He couldn’t pull his eyes from those long legs of hers.

By the time he forced his gaze up to her eyes, her head was tilted and she had a knowing little smile on her face. “Tito,” she said as she reached for her cell phone and shoved it in her back pocket.

“Right, let’s go.” He started for the door, because if he didn’t leave now, Tito would be fending for himself for at least another hour.

“Hang on,” she said behind him.

Matt felt the prickle of frustration crawling up the back of his neck. There was no time for primping or makeup. “What?”

Was she really trying to keep him here when his grandfather might be in trouble? She was already starting to act like Sadie, and after one night. Did he never fucking learn?

Matt whipped around to look at her, and saw her standing next to an open drawer and holding one of his own t-shirts out toward him.

Right. He was only wearing boxers.