Last Light

Finally, he glanced at me. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”


“Matt…” I crept over to him and nuzzled his shoulder. “You’re crazy.”

“Mm.” He blew smoke out the open window.

“And you’re adorable.”

“Handsome,” he mumbled. His stubborn expression faltered.

“Okay, handsome.” I laughed. I plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. Matt blinked at me.

“Are you smoking now?”

“Nope.” I smiled and crushed out the cigarette. “And neither are you.”

*

I left the cabin around the same time I’d arrived on Friday, when the day’s last light stained the snow orange. Matt loved that time of day. He loved the sadness of it.

I knew he wouldn’t want to say good-bye, so after we got my stuff and Laurence’s cage into the car, we sat up front and talked about nothing. I wore my new owl earrings. Matt smiled and batted one with a finger.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll ride to the end of the road with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll walk back. It’s not far.”

I pulled out of the driveway and onto the darkening road. Flurries swirled through the air.

Matt was silent, staring ahead and running a hand over my thigh. Through the denim of my jeans, his fingertips set my leg on fire.

I stopped at the bottom of the hill. To our right and left, the country lane was barren.

I turned off my high beams and the car idled in the cold.

A lump of emotion formed in my throat.

“Hey, come here.” Matt pulled me over the console and kissed me. I sighed against his mouth. God, I already missed him so much.

I stroked his handsome face as we kissed and I kneaded the back of his neck. Our kiss grew hungry, and Matt tugged at my ribs to bring my body closer to his. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils. His strong back shifted under my palms.

“Hannah…” He squeezed my breast through my coat.

I gasped and dug my fingers into his shoulders.

He stilled, breathing raggedly against my cheek.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” I touched his wrist and then his fingers. I fitted his hand around my breast and he groaned.

“Let me—” Matt’s hand slid down my body. He rubbed the denim seam covering my sex. “Let me just … touch it, Hannah … let me put my mouth on it. Please…”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. Together we fumbled with my zipper. I jerked my jeans and thong down my legs, worming around on the seat. I kicked off my boots. I spread my bare legs and gazed over at Matt, my chest heaving.

Damn … he looked so fucking good, serious as hell and hungry. And even if the roads were vacant for miles, sitting bottomless in my car felt deliciously illicit.

Matt pushed my legs open wider and leaned down to my sex, his beautiful body stretched over my lap. I curled my fingers in his hair. Oh, I loved this, and Matt loved it, too. He trembled like a starved animal every time he went down on me.

“I just … want to taste it,” he said, his breath washing over my skin.

Matt didn’t tease me like usual. He simply kissed my *, hard. His fingers gripped my thighs and his tongue slid into my sex. We moaned together, me into the silence of the car and Matt against my hot, wet skin.

“Matt, God … oh, God…”

His kiss was long and deep. His lips and tongue worked against my *; his smooth jaw caressed my thighs. Sometimes he bit down, pulling on my clit or the folds of my sex. “Good,” he whispered, licking me as I got wetter.

I tugged his hair.

With Matt, I never faked it. Matt knew what he was doing. He began to work on my clit, pushing up its soft hood and sucking at the pearl of nerves. He licked it rhythmically and my insides tightened. I pressed his mouth closer to my cunt. He moaned. Hmmm, he liked that …

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