“No, I suppose not. What have you been up to? Anything exciting happening around Twin Oaks?” I set my purse on her bed and took a seat.
I had her for almost thirty minutes before her disease pulled forward. And in that time, we talked about missing Pop and losing everything in the fire. It was almost as if the sadness of all she had lost sent her to her happy place. A place where she was young and had nothing to worry about. It crushed me.
“My friend stopped by today,” she said with a secret glint in her eyes.
“Your friend?” I asked, grinning along with her. “Since when do you have a friend in here?”
“Oh.” She waved her hand like it was nothing. “He stops by every now and again to flirt and chat. And the way he says my name, Iris Davis, just makes my heart sing.”
Iris Davis?
She hadn’t been Iris Davis in over sixty years. Not since she married Pop and took his last name … Daniels.
I knew then there was no friend. She was talking out of her head. Her sickness making her imagine a gentleman coming by and flirting. It was sad, but I let her continue without interrupting.
“He has the most gorgeous dark hair. And his eyes.” She sighed. “They are what dreams are made of.”
I sat and listened as she described the perfect man, knowing he didn’t exist. Knowing she was making herself happy with unreal thoughts. And when I crept from her room, I did so only after she had dozed off in her chair.
Defeat ran rapidly through my body as I took the long hallway toward the exit of Twin Oaks. In the end, things were no worse than they had been the week before, but for some reason, the load of everything going on around me felt heavier.
Going back to the apartment to sleep sounded ideal, but I was scheduled for a six-hour shift at Franklin’s, which meant I was going straight to work from the nursing home. Needing a mirror to check that I looked decent for work, I stopped off at the visitor’s bathroom.
My reflection was foggy in the large mirror on the side of the room, but I used it anyway to adjust my clothes and check my makeup. I was about to leave when one of the stall doors swung open and Matthew walked out.
He moved across the room and washed his hands in the sink with a disgusted look on his face.
Of course!
Of course, he would be in the restroom. He was every-freaking-where.
I wanted to bolt into the closest stall and disappear until he left, but he turned for a paper towel to dry his hands, and his eyes landed on me.
A tiny grin pulled at his lips, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he ran the towel across his damp fingers. He tossed the used paper towel in the trash can and stalked my way.
“Using the ladies’ room? Is that usually how you find your women?” I asked
He chuckled. “Whatever works, right?”
I couldn’t help it as my lips lifted into a smile, as well.
“Matthew?”
“Yes, Red?”
“Why are you in the women’s bathroom?”
He looked around, his eyes scanning the space.
“This isn’t the men’s room, is it?”
I snorted.
It was unattractive and embarrassing, but his grin grew.
“Was it the lack of urinals that gave it away or me standing here?”
He laughed.
“A little of both, I think.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He moved closer. “Maybe I am.”
“I’m starting to see you more than the person I’m here to visit,” I said.
“Maybe subconsciously you’re here for me.”
I chuckled. “Not likely.”
At that, he laughed. “God, Red, you’re so refreshing.”
His eyes moved from my face and down my body. I shifted on my feet and tugged my shirt down over my thighs, suddenly feeling very insecure with myself.
“Why are you always around? What is it you want from me?” I backed away closer to the door.
The way he was looking at me made me feel hunted. He moved closer, his brow lifting at my question and his dimple popping with his calculated smirk.
“You want me to be honest?” he asked.
“Honesty is usually best.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and sighed. Then he settled his gorgeous blue eyes on me, and his grin melted away as a serious expression took its place. His eyes moved over my face before landing on my mouth. As if he imagined the way I tasted, he licked his thick bottom lip before catching it with his teeth.
He moved closer, and I backed away until my shoulders were against the bathroom wall. He moved into me, and my body went stiff with the friction of his front against mine. He was in my space, and I wasn’t sure if I hated it or loved it.
Panic rushed through me, and my heart began to beat furiously between my thighs. He breathed me in, and when he exhaled, his breath rushed over my cheek and down the side of my neck.
“I want to climb inside you. Feel you all over me.” He pressed against me, the heat of his body sending chills down my front. “I want to make you come. Watch you come apart all over me. Look at your expression when you finally let go of the tension in your shoulders and melt for me. I want to give you pleasure, Red. I get hard just imagining it.”
He reached up, capturing a curl resting against my shoulder. Picking it up, he rubbed it between his fingers and stared down at it.
“This is me being honest. I want to fuck you. No strings. No extra bullshit. Just hard, fast sex until you’re screaming my name and giving in to me completely.”
I should have been appalled by his proposition. I should have been sickened by his explicit words and the way he was touching me and moving, pushing into me until I could feel his hard length. I should have been a lot of things, but all I felt was aroused.
He whispered his words, and his soft voice rustled the hair at the side of my face, making me tremble.
“You want that, too. Your body’s shivering just thinking about having me inside you. Stop depriving yourself of what you need and want. Give in to me.”
Dear God, he was good.
My body was moving on its own, pressing into him with a need my brain was slowly starting to understand. The temperature went up, and everything became humid and sultry like a small bathroom after a long, hot shower.
His lips brushed my cheek. “Give in to me, Shannon.”
His words rushed into my ear, sending a wave of shivers over my body before he captured my earlobe between his teeth and tugged a little.
I was done for.
A groan rushed from between my clenched teeth and slid over my lips.
A metaphorical white flag sprouted from my core, waving between us and flaming the fire he’d started. My body felt boneless, and I was seconds away from crumpling to the floor in a pool of warmth. My arms trembled. My legs shook, leaving me unsteady on my feet.
He was winning.
No.
He had won our little war.
The prickles on my arms intensified, jumping like waves of rhythm over my flesh, as I sighed. My thighs tightened, and a noticeable slide of warm wetness between my folds had me feeling extra sensitive. My body was ready to combust, and I was all for doing the things he wanted.
Breaking for him.
Coming apart for him.
Screaming his name.
I wanted it all.
“Okay,” I breathed.
The word rushed over my lips.