“Yeah, well.” God, I could use a drink. I’d feel a little self-conscious drinking in front of Matt, though, with his sober holiness and everything. “What about you? Why do you keep a guard up?”
“My dad. All of that shame I feel. But I want to change. I want to be comfortable sharing the real me, and being loved for the real me. That’s what I deserve.” He meets my eye, even if it’s a little shyly. “That’s what you deserve, too.”
I want to believe him. I really do.
He bites his lip. “Can I ask you something?” I nod. “How do you—” He stops himself and laughs a little. “This is a weird question, but how do you not give a fuck?”
I snort, and his grin grows. “Not give a fuck?”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I mean—shit, I think the first step is realizing that people are going to think what they want to think, no matter what you do. I had to learn that the hard way, I guess. No matter what I do or say, people will always treat me the way they want to treat me.”
Matt nods. “What’s that saying? What people think of you are reflections of themselves, right?”
“So, fuck it. I would rather be myself, free, than caged and treated like shit anyway.”
Something shifts in his gaze. “I want to join you there,” he tells me. “Feeling free. Sometimes I think it’s about taking the jump and just doing it, not being scared about what happens next.”
Is he flirting with me again? I think he might be. There’s some heat in his eyes, and I have to admit, it’s hard to get the expressions and sounds he was making on set out of my head. “Maybe I didn’t invite you over just to talk.”
He hesitates, then stands up. Mattie seems so shy and innocent, but he has more of a take-charge attitude than I would’ve expected. Even those scenes earlier…I mean, fuck. It was like a different version of him came out.
Matt takes his time as he straddles me, one leg on either side, and sits in my lap. “This okay?” he asks.
“We made out for the cast and crew. Why wouldn’t it be?” He blushes, but he waits, watching. Forcing me to speak. “Yeah. This is okay.”
He kisses me. The scenes we did earlier were torture. I think most people would assume I’d get off on it, but working on set in front of everyone, only for my body to take over? Not fun. I can’t force my body not to be turned on. It’s easier when I’m not attracted to the person I’m working with. It’s better for concentration. But Matt—the way he surprised me every time he grabbed me…
His voice is low, hoarse. “How do you like to be touched?”
“What?”
“Do you like to be touched soft? Hard?”
Never would’ve expected words like that out of golden boy’s mouth. “Rougher.”
Fingers yank my hair, pulling my head back. My groan is embarrassing, only because it’s for innocent little Mattie. Not so innocent after all, I guess.
“Like that?” he asks, but the smile in his voice lets me know exactly what he’s doing.
“Yeah. Like that.”
He grinds into me and kisses my neck. “I really wanted to do this earlier,” he says, voice heavier.
My hands slip into his waistband, but he pulls back. I stare up at him. Watch as the heat in his gaze cools with hesitation. He bites his lip. Something I’d like to be doing, too. “Are we—I just want to make sure we…”
I tilt my head to the side, waiting.
He sighs. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. What if it gets too confusing, like you said?”
“Actors hook up all the time, Matt.”
“Right, but not all actors are in relationships as a publicity stunt.”
“You think we’re going to start to believe we’re really in a relationship if we fuck?”
“Maybe?”
I’m not about to force him into something he doesn’t want. I’m disappointed, sure, but I shrug. “All right. Let’s stop.”
He’s still on my lap. Watching me with a gaze that lets me know how much he wants to keep going. My smirk grows.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he says.
A small laugh escapes. “I’m not.”
He kisses me again. Slowly, pulling me closer by the chin. His hand runs into my hair and pulls my head back again so that he has access to bite my neck. I hiss, and he kisses me apologetically.
“I didn’t realize you were this aggressive.”
“I’m not aggressive.”
“Sure. If that’s what you want to think.”
He might still be trying to decide if he wants to go through with this or not. My hands are on his waist, fingers pressing into his skin beneath his shirt. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s go to your bedroom.”
I lead him up into the loft and we sit on the edge of the bed together, taking off our shoes and unbuttoning our shirts. Shyness is still there, but it’s easy to forget about that when you’re horny as fuck. We kiss slowly as we lean back onto the bed, pressing our bodies together. Just doing what feels good. What feels right. We’re freer without the stage directions and coordination. We don’t have to worry about whether we’re too loud for the camera or if we’re making the right expressions. Don’t have to worry about our characters. Our shirts are off and our hands are everywhere. I love losing myself like this. No more thinking necessary.
Matt’s more thoughtful. His gaze is always on me, watching for my reaction. He straddles me again—he must love that position—as he reaches for my zipper. “This okay?”
“You ask that a lot.”
“Yeah. I want to make sure you’re all right. Consent and all.”
“I’m fine.”
He yanks off my pants and boxers. He isn’t as shy as he’s been when he looks at me lying beneath him, naked. It doesn’t feel fair that he still has clothes on. He lets a hand trace over my chest and down my stomach and between my legs. He grips me—fingers tightening with just the right amount of pressure. He smiles when I gasp.
“You’re more experienced than I thought you’d be.”
He leans down to kiss the inside of my thigh. My breath is hitchy. Usually I’m the one on my knees, making people gasp for me. “There was this one guy, a couple of years ago…”
He licks the tip of my dick. Fuck. I try to thrust up into his mouth, but he pushes me back down by my waist. Why is it always the innocent-looking ones who’re secretly power whores? He grins at me. “Be patient.”
“Come on, Matt. I hate teasing.”
“Maybe I should just stop, then.”
“Wait. Okay.”
“Say please, if you really want it.”
I snort.
He sits up, staring down at me with a playful grin, but his eyes—damn, his eyes are hooded. He’s serious. He’ll wait as long as it takes. I’m getting harder, breath rougher. I’m usually a total bottom for guys like Briggs. Didn’t think I’m such a sub that I’d even end up begging to be controlled by someone like Mattie Cole. God. That’s a new low.
“Fine.” I’m a little pissed that I give in so easily. “Please.”
He rubs a hand over my hair and kisses me again, before he gets back to work—head between my legs, taking his time with every lick, never taking me into his mouth the way I need it. It’s been too long since I’ve come with anything but my right hand, and the pressure is building. I’m desperate for more contact.