Unwrapped
Page 8
“What’s going on with you?” he asked softly, tightening his hold when her shaking intensified.
She shifted her face away. “I asked you to let me go.”
“You really do want him,” Matt murmured, pressing his fingers into her sensitive skin. But he couldn’t let go. Her scent wrapped around him, fresh like peaches but warmer, sweeter.
Drugging him into forgetting he was supposed to be making her understand.
She set the teapot aside on the small refinished hardwood table. If Tris were there, he’d grab an oven mitt and slide it underneath to protect the wood.
Since he wasn’t, the pot remained.
“I bet you loved it when you realized I’d be out for a while tonight. Plenty of time to rip the rug out from underneath me and use it to whack each other off.”
Since that phrase made him think of a mobster show and not sex, he had to fight back a smile. “Why should you care? You’re not sleeping with either of us.”
“Why should I care? Did you really just ask me that?”
“Yes.” He stepped a fraction closer. “I did. So?”
“How long have you been fucking each other right under my nose?”
Matt swallowed, hard. “Almost a year.”
Her eyes widened, and she whirled out of his grip. “A year? You’re kidding me. There’s no way, just no way you could be—” She clutched her midsection. “There were girls. You’ve been with women since then. I know you have.”
Now he was the one to shrug. “Yeah. We’re still into women too. It’s not an either/or with us.”
“No, it’s screw whatever’s available, right? If it’s some pussy, fine. Or a cock in the ass. What difference does it make?”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” he said, his tone easy. “Have you?”
“God. Only you would turn this into an excuse to talk about sex.” She picked up the teapot and sloshed tea into her favorite cartoon coyote mug.
“Isn’t everything?” He stepped closer and rested his hands lightly on the table on either side of her, effectively boxing her in. She wouldn’t be running from this like she’d run away upstairs.
She drank her tea, swallowing audibly, and didn’t reply.
“So,” he said, moving his face closer. Almost immediately she bristled from the feeling of his breath hot on the back of her neck. Or maybe it was the erection he’d be damned if he would try to hide. “Anal sex. Ever tried it? Ever let a guy slide his dick inside your ass? Stretch you wide open and make you burn from the inside out, until it feels like your whole body’s throbbing, aching for relief. Until you’re begging him to make you come.”
“Have I ever mentioned that to you?” Her voice caught and gave on an impatient breath. “You know I tell you everything. If I’d done…that, you’d know.”
“Obviously we don’t tell each other everything.”
“You don’t. I do.”
“Really.” He reached up to undo the ponytail gathered at the base of her neck. She stiffened, but she didn’t stop him. Interesting. “Except that little thing about you wanting Tristan.” Her gaze bounced to the stairway leading upstairs. “He won’t bother us,” Matt added, tossing aside the band and running his fingers through the silken gold strands.
“How do you know that? And what are you doing? Is leftover lust addling your brain? Christ.” She elbowed him in the gut—without checking her strength—and turned to face him. “I get what you’re doing, you know.” She banged the mug on the table. “You’re trying to get me to forget what I saw. I know your games, Matt. I’ve seen you use your tricks on other chicks. Do you really think I’d fall for them?”
“My games. My tricks. So is that why Tris got in bed with me, you think?” Idly, he twirled a lock of her hair. “You think I coerced him the way you obviously believe I do with women?”
“You got him into bed. Not the other way around. Right. That’s why he was inside you, ramming away.”
“You’ll learn, sweetness, that sometimes the one on the bottom isn’t any less powerful than the one on top.”
Something hot and primal flashed in her eyes, and she firmed her trembling lips. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Huh?”