She turned her face up to his, her lips reaching for him. He cupped her face gently with his hands and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly, deeply, until neither of them had the desire to speak. The emotions she evoked in him were like nothing he’d ever experienced. The first night he’d met her at the bar he’d wanted to go to bed with her. He’d had an insane attraction to her, found her gorgeous and drop-dead sexy, and now he wanted her even more, was even more
attracted. Except now he also wanted to wake up with her, wanted to know every part of her.
Matt kissed her until she couldn’t stand on her own. Her knees wobbled. He picked her up, sat her on the counter, and stood between her legs. Everything became hotter, fast.
Their hands bumped into each other, competing for access, and he let her win as she pulled his shirt off. He lifted her and walked with her legs wrapped around his waist into his bedroom.
“You’re not carrying me.” He didn’t feel like pointing out that she made no attempt to disengage herself.
“I am, because I don’t want you to let go.”
“Well, it’s not very smart, because of your leg injury.”
“Sex rule number one? Don’t remind a guy about any inadequacies.”
She laughed softly and leaned forward to kiss his neck. “We both know your ego isn’t that fragile. Maybe you should use a cane.”
He dropped her on the bed, both of them laughing. He followed her down only to have her wrestle him underneath her. She straddled him, out of breath. When he made eye contact with her, the humor was gone, something changing in her expression. His room was dark, but the faint glow of light from the hallway streamed through, enough that he could make out every expression, every flicker in her eyes. She leaned down, took his hands off her waist, and placed them beside his head. She didn’t break his stare.
There was a look in her eyes, something other than desire. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing. He waited, knowing she needed to make the next move, knowing this wasn’t going to be like anything he’d ever experienced. God, he’d wait forever, even if it killed him. She sat there, on top of him, and he sensed he was being evaluated, tried for some crime he had or hadn’t committed.
He tried to figure her out, as he’d done countless times before, studying her unreadable expression. After another minute he slowly lowered his hands to grasp her thighs, feeling the heat through the soft denim. He didn’t say a word as he grasped the edge of her sweater and she lowered her head as he lifted it off and tossed it to the floor. His gaze roamed over her bared torso appreciatively, taking in the full breasts, the black lace bra.
With self-control he hadn’t known he possessed, he kept his hands on her waist, her soft, pale skin a contrast to his. Her eyes were still on him, like she was expecting something. He knew her guard hadn’t come down yet. He didn’t have her trust yet. And he knew she wasn’t waiting for words. Whatever darkness Kate had, whatever wounds, he knew they wouldn’t be healed by some compliments. He knew that what she needed from him wasn’t words.
In high school she fell in love with historical romance and then contemporary romance. After graduating University with an English Literature degree, Victoria pursued a degree in Interior Design and then opened her own business.
After her first child, Victoria knew it was time to fulfill her dream of writing romantic fiction.
Victoria is a hopeless romantic who is living her dream, penning happily-ever-after’s for her characters in between managing kids and the familybusiness. Writing on a laptop in the middle of the country in a rambling old Victorian house would be ideal, but she’s quite content living in suburbia with her husband, their two young children, and very bad cat.
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