Runaway (Wolfes of Manhattan 3)

Matt stood there, his blue eyes burning two holes in my flesh.

“Come in—”

He grabbed me and slammed his mouth onto mine.

I opened.

I wanted to kiss him, remembered how amazing it had been.

But kissing might lead to—

No. Let it go. Surrender to his kiss. He won’t force you into anything.

Just. Let. It. Go.

I heeded the advice of my subconscious.

I couldn’t let Derek Wolfe color my whole life, let him keep me from something that could be beautiful. So beautiful.

I parted my lips, and Matt probed his tongue between them.

We’d kissed before, but this seemed different in a way I couldn’t quite understand.

And I knew…

I knew at that moment that I’d let him make love to me.

I was leaving tomorrow, so I could be Riley Mansfield tonight. Just Riley Mansfield, who didn’t have any of Riley Wolfe’s problems.

I could suppress all my troubles—all my demons—just for this night.

I cupped his blond stubbled cheeks, letting my fingers scrape along the roughness. I wanted to pull him closer to me, so close that we were one being with this kiss.

I let my hands wander down, over his broad shoulders, down his upper arms. So big and muscled. I drew in my courage and then touched his butt—his amazing butt—and squeezed. He groaned into my mouth, pushing his clothed erection against my belly.

And I didn’t back away.

Because I was Riley Mansfield tonight, not Riley Wolfe.

He broke the kiss, inhaled, and then trailed wet kisses over my cheek to my ear, where he softly nipped the lobe. I shuddered, his breath against the wetness an icy cold yet comfortably warm delight.

“I want you,” he said softly, pushing his erection against me once more.

I want you too.

The words hovered on my tongue, begging to be released.

“I…want you too.”

He growled into my ear and then pushed his tongue inside. Tingles shot through me, and my body couldn’t decide if it wanted to be warm or cold.

And I throbbed between my legs. That secret place that I never thought could feel anything again.

“I want to make love to you in the hot tub,” he rasped.

God. The hot tub. Naked. With Matt. In the hot tub.

“Then,” he continued, “I want to come inside and make love to you in bed. All. Night. Long.”

My nipples hardened, extending and yearning for his lips, teeth, tongue. Fingers, anything.

My body had never responded this way. Many times, I’d wondered if it actually could.

He moved from my ear, then, and met my gaze as he licked his swollen lips. “What do you want, Riley?”

A soft sigh escaped my throat. “I want all of that. All of it, Matt.”

“Thank God,” he rasped. “I couldn’t think of anything else while I was finishing dinner. Then, you left, and you didn’t look at me—”

I placed two fingers against his lips. “I didn’t want to interfere with your dinner. I was afraid if I looked at you…”

“Afraid of what?”

“I don’t know, exactly. I almost felt like I couldn’t control myself.”

He smiled. “Would that have been such a bad thing?”

“In the middle of a restaurant? Yeah.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now. I’m here, and you’re here, and I’m going to explore every inch of you by morning.”

I closed my eyes and moaned. My body was responding in weird fluttery ways—ways I’d read about but never imagined.

Matt kissed my neck and then my bare shoulder. “Your skin is so beautiful. Like a pinkish-yellow rose.” He dropped a kiss between my breasts and then he slid the strap of my tank off one shoulder and then the other. Kisses and more kisses, all over my chest and the tops of my breasts.

My breath caught and wouldn’t let go. I wanted… Needed…

“Matt…”

“Hmm?” He nipped my shoulder.

“Undress me. Please.”

“My pleasure.” He pushed my tank down to my waist and over my hips. Then he unhooked my bra and I shimmied out of it. My breasts fell gently against my chest.

“Fuck. Beautiful,” he breathed.

I flipped off my sandals while he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans.

A slice of fear—or was it apprehension?—threatened me, but I waved it away. I wanted this more than the fear that wanted to control me.

Derek Wolfe was dead.

He had no more control over me.

And damn it, that would be the last time I thought of Derek Wolfe while Matt undressed me.

He eased the denim over my hips and down my thighs until I stepped out of the jeans and they lay like a blue puddle at my feet.

Only my pink lace boy shorts lay between Matt and me.

He stared, looked me up and down as if I were a side of beef hanging in a butcher shop.

And I liked it.

My God, I liked it a lot.

“You look so sexy, Riley, in those panties,” he said. “I almost don’t want to take them off you.”

Good. I wanted them on. He could take them off when we got into a dark bedroom. But here? In the light? He’d see… He’d see my secret. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Please…”