A Hot Winter (New Adult Romance) (The Attraction Series Book 2) (16 page)

Emma’s face broke into a smile as soon as she opened the door.  “Hey,” Matt said, wiping snow off before coming inside.  He pulled her to him right away and kissed her. 

“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly when their lips parted. 

“How did the swamp aliens go?” he asked.

“Good.  I finished early,” she said a bit self-consciously, feeling compelled to justify why she’d invited Matt over after she’d asked for a night apart.  The truth was: once she had finished her editorial notes, she’d wrapped presents, added some ornaments to the tree, and even cleaned her bathrooms.  Then realized that she was still wide-awake.  And alone…and facing a night of thinking about Matt.  From there, it was a short jump to the rationale that if she was going to spend her night dwelling on Matt, he might as well be here in person.

“Actually…”  She motioned for Matt to follow her as she crossed through the living room, toward her office, which was dark except for a dim desk lamp that was perched on the bookshelf.  “…let me just save my file real quick.” 

Once in her small office, she went around her desk and leaned over to hit some keys on her laptop, while Matt took off his coat.  “Done,” she said, then picked up a sheet of paper and said, “Oh, also, I saw something and I thought of you.”  Handing him the paper, Emma said, “I saw online that there’s going to be this huge tool and raw materials auction in Framingham next week.  I just thought that sounded like something you might be interested in, so I printed it for you.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, skimming the page.  “Cool, maybe I’ll check it out.”  Eying her, he folded the sheet of paper up and shoved it into his back pocket.  Then he stepped closer to her.  Her pulse immediately kicked up, and the air between them seemed to thicken.  Matt’s voice was low and intimate when he said, “So is that why you asked me over tonight?  To give me that?”

“No, but…”  Emma went for an innocent shrug as her voice trailed off. 

“Did you miss me?” Matt asked softly.  In that moment, and in the dark intimacy of her office, his deep voice felt like an embrace. 

Meeting his eyes, Emma nodded.  She could feel her heart expanding.  He was so close now; she ached to kiss him, touch him, wrap herself around him.  As though Matt read her mind, he hitched the corner of his mouth up, and ran his warm palm around her neck. 

In response, Emma’s fingers came up to rest on his chest, and to tug gently on the front of his shirt.  At first their kiss was slow and searching, as their arms wrapped around each other and they sank into their mutual attraction.  Then, Matt’s hands coasted lower--Emma’s roamed higher--and their mouths grew hungrier.

He backed her up against the edge of her desk while he kissed her deeply.  Eagerly, she snaked her tongue against his as she slid her fingers into his hair.  “
Emma
,” he groaned as he ran his hands over her breasts and kissed his way down her neck. 

“I missed you,” she whispered, only verbalizing what she’d already admitted.  Matt made a deep, approving sound in his throat as he hitched her up on her desk, spreading her legs so that they were straddling his waist.  She could feel his arousal, the hard bulge in his jeans pressing against her.  Anxiously, she tried to rub her lower body against it--which seemed to work him up, because he gripped her thighs and started grinding his erection into her.  Emma moaned, tightening her arms around him. 

Then Matt paused.  When he gazed at her, his eyes were hooded and his expression was one of raw need.  So why was he stopping?  “What’s wrong?” Emma murmured, trying to rub her lower body on his again.

“I want you so bad,” he rasped, digging his fingers into her waist.  “Let’s go upstairs.”

She felt a rush of relief.  Nothing was wrong; thank God.  “No,” Emma said, and pulled him closer.  When he seemed momentarily confused, she explained, “No one uses this room except for me.”  Then she leaned over and kissed his neck.  Sucked it.  Trailed her tongue up to his ear.  Matt groaned and then dug his fingers into her hair and gave a little tug. 

“Do you mean I can take you right here?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” she whispered back.  Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest as Matt nudged her backward, so she was lying on her desk and he was hovering over her--sliding off her pajama pants and panties in one fluid, seductive motion.  Then he was touching her.  Her eyes fell shut and she let out a little cry of pleasure as Matt drove two fingers inside her. 

Instinctively, Emma began rocking her hips slowly to meet his motions, savoring the feel of him--until he did something unexpected.  With both fingers deep inside her, he turned his whole hand around--and she nearly jolted off the desk.  Her back arched sharply as the shock and incredibly arousing sensation hit her at once.  Something in that move was explosive; she cried out and he did it again. 

“
Oh, my God
…” Emma whispered brokenly as Matt kept twisting his hand, creating powerful vibrations in her every time he did it. 

“Do you like that?” he asked raggedly, sounding as turned on as she was. 

Emma couldn’t even formulate a response.  The pleasure was almost too much to take.  With her neck and back arched, she struggled to find her voice as he twisted his hand again and again, and currents of heat washed through her, until--without warning--a burst of extreme ecstasy hit her body and sent her reeling. 

She practically screamed as she climaxed, while Matt uttered roughly, “You are so hot, you are so fucking hot…”

Both were still panting as Matt hurriedly stripped off her tee shirt and then his own.  Weakly, Emma climbed up into a sitting position on the desk, reached for his zipper.  Instead of nudging her onto her back again, Matt surprised her by scooping her off the desk and setting her on her feet.  Then, abruptly, he turned her in his arms. 

With his chest pressed against her back, and his fully aroused cock pressed against her ass, Emma let out a thready sigh of anticipation.  As his hands slid up her stomach to cover her bare breasts, Matt dipped his head down to kiss her neck.  Then he whispered in her ear, “Do you want it slow and gentle?”

“No,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.  But when Matt growled with excitement, she knew that he’d heard, and the next thing she knew he was slipping a condom on, pushing her forward, bending her over the desk, and sliding his cock inside her, stimulating the exact spot where his fingers had been, where her body was still humming and vulnerable. 

It was primal, mind-fogging bliss.  Raw and animalistic.  With a guttural sound of arousal, Matt held her as took Emma hard and fast, grunting and muttering to her about how good she felt.  Eagerly, hungrily, she fucked him back. 

When Matt finally climaxed, he clutched onto Emma, and they both cried out, gracelessly slamming their bodies against each other until the firestorm passed.

Feebly, Emma let herself drop down on top of her desk, and Matt followed, pressing his chest into her back, as they both lay there, catching their breath.  After several moments, he eased up his weight on her and let out an exhausted sigh.  Finding her voice, Emma said, “Oh, my God, where did you learn that thing with your hand?”  Before he could answer, she snapped her palm over his mouth and said, “Never mind!  I don’t want to know.”

Matt chuckled softly, as he took her hand and set it on his chest, casually.  “I read it in a magazine,” he told her.  Then, glancing over at her, he grinned and said, “I’m glad it worked out.”  Emma’s face broke into a smile and she snuggled in closer.  She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not about the magazine--but she was very happy he’d said it.

When Pellican returned later that night, Tragan and Bardo were on their way out.  They explained about Matt’s abrupt departure.  “Said he had to help his parents with something,” Tragan said while he shoved on his jacket.

“Really?” Pellican said doubtfully.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Bardo asked.

“Nothing, but…hey, does Winter have a new girl?” Pellican said, now looking directly at Tragan. 

Pausing, Tragan made sure to keep a poker face.  As far as he knew, Matt didn’t have a girl; he hadn’t mentioned anything.  But Matt was a quiet guy.  Who clearly had a thing for Andy’s sister.  Plus, Tragan knew Matt’s parents and it was hard to picture them texting Matt at night instead of calling.

“Not that I know of,” Tragan answered.  “Why?”

“Because he hasn’t been home the past two nights.”

Sounding touched, Bardo said, “Oh, and you’ve been up waiting for him?  Pacing the floors?  That’s sweet, bro,” he added, clapping a hand on Pellican’s shoulder.

“Get off of me,” Pellican grumbled impatiently, shaking off Bardo, who only chuckled  “Look, it’s not that big of an apartment.  I happened to notice he wasn’t home last night or the night before.  And now this fake excuse tonight?”

Tragan shrugged.  He couldn’t deny it sounded fake.  “I don’t know, man.  He hasn’t said a word about a girl.”

Suddenly, Bardo’s eyes widened and he yelped, “Oh, my God, I know what’s going on!”

“What?” Pellican said curiously.

“He’s been seeing Keri!  That has to be it.  Here, she’s been sniffing around again-- sending messages through Neeta and me--she even showed up at the Lamplighter.  She must have finally worn the guy down.”

“Damn, I hope not,” Tragan said honestly.

Meanwhile Pellican challenged Bardo’s theory.  “But why wouldn’t he tell us?  Come on, obviously we’d understand.”

“Speak for yourself, man.  Keri’s no good.”

“I agree with Tray,” Bardo said. 

“Yeah, but she’s smoking hot!” Pellican proclaimed.

Ignoring him, Bardo looked to Tragan for some kind of guidance.  “So what can we do to save someone from himself?”

With reluctant cynicism, Tragan answered, “As a general rule?  Absolutely nothing.”

“Right.  That’s what I was afraid of.”

~

Matt didn’t have to work the next day so he and Emma slept in.  Though, when he eventually awoke, he was alone.  In only his boxer-briefs he left the bedroom, and followed the strong, sweet scent of something baking.  He found Emma in the kitchen with a frilly yellow apron wrapped around her pajama pants and Tinkerbell tee shirt, now measuring out the coffee. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, hearing the raspiness in his voice since it was the first time he’d spoken that day. 

“Oh, hi,” she said brightly, smiling at him.  Both crossed the kitchen and met in the middle for a kiss. 

“What are you doing?” Matt asked.

“Making French toast.  Do you like that?”

“Of
course
,” he assured her then kissed her again.

When their mouths broke, she said, “Let me just finish the coffee.  Go sit.”

“Okay, boss,” he said with a smile and took his usual seat at her table.  Today it was already set for two; each plate already had sliced fruit on it.

Once the coffee was brewing, Emma reached for potholders.  “I hope you like this.  I always bake it in the oven,” she mentioned conversationally, “because it’s so much easier.” 

“It’s gonna be awesome.  Do you need help?” Matt asked, as he started to leave his chair so he could grab the pan for her.

“No, sit.  It’s not heavy,” she insisted, just as the phone on her wall began to ring.  “Oh--enh--I’ll just let the machine get it,” she remarked and reached inside the oven to grab the tray of French toast.  Then, to Matt’s annoyance, an increasingly familiar voice intruded on their intimate little brunch. 

“Hi, Emma.  Phil Parker here.  I hope you’ve been doing well.  I was actually just driving through your neighborhood--on my way back from an appointment--and I thought I’d try you, see if you’re around.  I was thinking I could take you to an early lunch.  But you’re not answering, so I probably missed you.  In any case, it was just a thought.  Give me a call sometime when you’re free.  I really enjoyed our dinner.  Take care.”

By the time Parker was done rambling, Matt was curling his lip up, somewhat glaring at the answering machine.  Obviously Emma caught his expression, because she said, “Don’t even start,” as she set the tray of French toast down on the counter.

He shrugged.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“Good.”

While Emma was filling up a large plate, Matt watched her.  Damn, she was so adorable.  So sweet and soft and hot and special--so set apart from everyone else.  His chest tightened a little at the thought that she might not be his.  He wasn’t really threatened by Phil Parker; if Emma wanted to be with him, then she’d be here making
him
French toast.  No, what bothered him was her whole insistence that everything between Matt and her had to end as soon as she moved.  He still didn’t agree with that, and the more time he spent with her…well, somehow he’d get her to change her mind.

“Hey, I don’t blame Parker for being hung up on you,” Matt remarked now.

“I’d hardly call him ‘hung up.’”

“Well, he’s doing drive-bys,” Matt pointed out. 

“Don’t say that; you’ll freak me out.  Phil’s a nice guy.  I’m sure he was just in the neighborhood, like he said.” 

Probably Emma was right about him being a nice guy--but she was definitely wrong if she believed the dude wasn’t sweating her.  The thought suddenly gave Matt pause.  Jesus, was there any chance that Phil Parker could have thrown the brick threw Matt’s window the other night--the very night that Matt had kissed Emma for the first time?

Nah
, he thought, dismissing the notion as he dug into his French toast.  The Parker theory was probably a stretch.

“By the way, did you tell him about us?”

Whipping her head at him, she scoffed and said, “Of course not!  I haven’t even told my sister, much less Phil Parker--whom I haven’t even talked to since our one dinner!”

“Hey, I’m just saying, you’re off the market now and maybe Parker needs to be told that.  In person--by me.”

With a dismissive laugh, Emma rolled her eyes.  “You’re so helpful like that.”

Matt grinned despite himself.  “It would be more humane for the guy.”

“Right, I forgot about your soft spot for Phil Parker and his overall well-being,” she said sarcastically, then set the plate of French toast on the table and took a seat.  “Now enough of this macho ridiculousness.  I cooked for you.  And I don’t even like to cook.”

Matt’s mouth broke into a smile at that and he reached across the table and took her hand.  “Thank you, beautiful,” he said sincerely.   

“So…do you like it?” Emma asked now, blinking hopefully at him as he put a forkful in his mouth.

“Love it,” Matt told her.  She beamed a smile at him, and something swelled in his chest.  “Hey, listen.  How about we go out tonight?” Matt said. 

“Where?”

“I’ll decide that.”

She tilted her head at him.  “Oh, will you?” she said dryly.

“Yes.  I’m taking you on a date,” Matt explained simply.  “So I’ll decide.”  When Emma hesitated a moment, he added, “Why should Phil Parker be the only guy who gets to put on his A game for you?”