“And you’re uncommonly horny. Don’t forget that,” he said low.
That she could hardly deny, and blushed, tugged on his tie a little. “See what I mean? Charming, then full of yourself.”
“I’ll try and be less full,” he said, and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “But I should get extra credit for the fact that I can’t take my eyes off you when you’re around. Or when I go to bed, your image follows me into sleep.”
He made her feel sixteen all over again, alive and vibrant and worthy of a man’s dreams. But she wasn’t sixteen, she was in her thirties. “Sure you’re not just saying that . . . you know, because of the horny thing?”
Matt dipped his head a little to look directly into her eyes. “Did you see the pictures in the paper?”
She nodded; her blush sank deeper into her cheeks.
“Then you saw how I was looking at you. If you didn’t, you’re the only one in Austin.”
She risked a look at him. She had seen the way she’d looked at him, too.
“This is the point I’d usually make a joke, Rebecca. But it’s true—I can’t stop looking at you or thinking of you.”
Oh. Ooh . . . What was that she heard, the distant sound of a freight train headed right for her? His gray eyes seemed to darken; the way he was looking at her made her believe he could see inside her, could see the desire raging, could see how much she wanted him to look at her.
“I look at you and think of the Rebecca that’s beneath that gorgeous exterior, the one who accuses people of stealing quesadillas and takes in stray dogs and buys a vacuum cleaner for her son and befriends crazy senior citizens.”
Her blush was fire now, racing through her veins, licking at her heart.
“And I say to myself, dude, this isn’t you. You don’t fall all over yourself for a woman. But I have, Rebecca, and I want to know you, I want to be with you, and I am hoping like crazy that you want to know me, too.”
His admission startled her—she couldn’t think, couldn’t answer, and unthinkingly touched her face, felt the cool skin of her hand against the heat of her cheek. “I don’t know what to say,” she started, but Matt silenced her by touching his lips to hers.
It was enough to paralyze her. Desire raced through her as Matt kissed her, right there on the leather couch, with deep, thirsty passion, as if he was actually trying to reach the Rebecca beneath. He cradled her face; his finger stroked her brow, her temple, and fluttered to her neck. Shaky, Rebecca grabbed his wrist, was holding on so tightly that she could feel his pulse, pounding in rapid rhythm with her own dangerously explosive heart beat.
And then she was sliding, drifting down and down, Matt with her. His hand was on her knee, then her thigh, slowly sliding up, his tongue dipping between her lips as his fingers brushed against her panties.
A warm, liquid lust surged through her. Her hands were suddenly around his neck, her lips moving across his, urgently feeling and tasting them, then her tongue inside his mouth, feeling his teeth, the smooth skin of his mouth. When his finger slipped inside the silk of her panties, dipping into the damp cleft, she gasped into his mouth, and her hands fell to his shoulders, clinging to them, then his muscular arms, and his waist . . . and his erection.
Rebecca was heedless of anything but his body, his strong, hard body. Matt’s hand tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck; his other thrust inside her panties, stroking the wet heat between her legs. Purely sexual instincts took hold—she couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the longing for him to be deep inside her. And she was just moments away from feeling that very thing, because in the fog that shrouded her mind and all common sense, she felt Matt drawing her panties down her leg as he pressed his erection against her—
“Mommy!”
Rebecca jerked away, gasping for air. “Ah . . . just a minute, honey!” she called as she frantically clawed her way up and from underneath Matt. He fell away from her, melting into the couch, straightening his clothing and dragging a hand across the back of his mouth as Rebecca quickly pulled up her panties.
“I’ve got to go,” she whispered, fixing her blouse as she hurried back to the guest room.