To have closure.
All of these reasons sound so damn good. I know that my heart is going to hurt worse tomorrow because I’ll start my grieving all over again, but wouldn’t that be worth one more night in Matt’s arms?
“One last time?” I ask, just to make sure of what he’s offering.
“Just tonight,” he says softly. “But it will be all night.”
Shivers race up and down my spine from the seduction in his voice, and any tiny thought of declining his offer completely evaporates.
“Okay,” I whisper, almost afraid if I say it too loud that Matt and I will snap out of this stupidity we’ve talked ourselves in to.
“Let me pay the cab,” he says as he releases his hold on me. I watch as he walks around to the driver’s door and pays the fare. Then the trunk pops open again, and he pulls his suitcase out.
Now that he’s not touching me anymore, I have a small kernel of doubt.
Okay, a huge kernel of doubt. This is dumb, dumb, dumb.
I’m giving in to Matt’s desire for sex, and what do I get in return? I don’t get a relationship, true love, or hell, I won’t even get breakfast in the morning. I’m scratching his itch, and I’m telling him that I admit I was never good enough to be more than a good fuck for him.
Those thoughts alone almost have me telling Matt to get in the cab but, as he looks at me, with fire burning in his eyes… it’s game over. My body is telling me that I have an itch to scratch just as much as Matt does. It’s true that what I really want is the relationship. I want to be with the man I can tell all my secrets to, and who will love me through thick and thin. But the one thing Matt has taught me over the last few months is that I also need more than just the emotional bond. I need the physical as well. I crave the touch and the sounds. I relish gasps, moans, and grunts. I have to have the wild excitement that comes from dirty words and rough fingers.
While Matt can’t give me all of what I want, he can give me part of what I need.
So, yeah… I’m going to have one more night with him before I close that door.
And I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it.
Turning away from Matt, I walk into my building with him following. We ride the elevator up in total silence, but there is a buzzing energy around us. I sneak a glance at him and he’s staring down at his shoes, seemingly lost in thought. I sure hope he’s giving serious analysis to all the ways he’s going to make me come.
When I open the apartment door, Matt follows me in. Macy is sitting on the couch and, when she sees Matt, her eyebrows go through the roof. I shoot her a smile that says, I’ll fill you in tomorrow but don’t you dare say a word right now, because I’m getting ready to get fucked like a queen and I don’t want you to ruin it.
She gives me a slight nod, and I march right past her. Matt follows along, and I’m sure we make quite the sight as we head down the hallway with our suitcases rolling along behind us. I can’t even imagine what’s going through Macy’s head right now, but I have a feeling things are going to get loud before too long, so she’ll be able to piece it together.
Entering my room, I push my suitcase up against my closet door. I turn on my bedside lamp, and the room is filled with a soft glow. Matt closes the door behind him and pushes his suitcase next to mine. Then he turns to look at me, and my breath catches as I watch his lazy perusal. He has run his hungry eyes over me more times than I can remember, but he’s never done it with such exquisite care. He takes his time, checking out every part of me, now that he has the time and the permission to do so.