Maybe Matt's Miracle(59)

Her jaw falls open. “You’re worried about Seth?”

I nod and raise my knuckle to my mouth, biting down on it, trying to take some of the ache out of my nuts.

“I think Seth is old enough to understand.”

I shake my head. “I know. But he just said something that hit home with me. I don’t want him to think I’m with you because I want to score.” I do want to score, but that’s beside the point.

She motions from her to me and back. “I kind of hoped to score,” she whispers vehemently. She glances toward Seth’s closed door. “He’s in bed. He’ll never know.”

I point to my chest. “But I’ll know.”

She harrumphs, and her shoulders drop. “I put on perfume and everything,” she mumbles.

I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her, sniffing her neck. I can smell the sweet scent that’s her, but I can’t tell where she applied it. “Where?” I ask, hesitant when I hear my own voice quaver.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asks with a giggle. She steps onto her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck.

I walk her backward toward her room as I kiss her. Her lips are hungry against mine, and she takes greedy little nips at my mouth. I want to stay. I want to be inside her. But I can’t.

I grab the hem of her shirt and shove her gently through the doorway of her bedroom at the same time, yanking the shirt over her head.

“Change your mind?” she asks, breathless, as she covers her breasts with her hands. They plump around her fingertips, and I want to kiss her fingers away.

I lift her shirt to my nose and sniff it. “I’m taking this with me because it smells like you.”

“Matt,” she protests, but it’s more of a playful grunt. “Give me my shirt.”

“If you want the shirt, you have to give me your panties,” I say. I glance down.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” she says, taunting me.

I lean forward and kiss her forehead, lingering for just a moment, taking in the feel of her clutching my shirt in her fists. “God, you’re killing me,” I say. I let my hands drift up and down her naked back, and she purrs like a kitten, pressing her tits against my chest.

“Stay,” she says softly.

I shake my head, take her hands in mine, and unravel her fingers from my shirt, then set her back from me. “If it was just us, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”

“But it’s not.”

I shake my head. “Good night,” I say as I walk away.

“’Night,” she calls to my retreating back.

I go out the front door and groan loudly. I want to go back to her. But I also want to do this the right way.





Skylar



Matt’s barely out the front door when I call him. In fact, I can hear the ding of the elevator over the bad reception in the enclosed space when he answers me with nothing more than a groan.

“Matt,” I say quietly.

“What?” he bites out. But I can almost hear the lazy smile in his voice.

“Come back.”

He hisses out a breath. Then says quietly, “If you say the word come one more time…”

My breath catches, and my heart starts to trip. “Matt.” I’m grinning like a fool, and I don’t care. My door is shut, and no one can see me.

“Are you still topless?” Matt asks. His voice sounds like it’s been dragged down a gravel road and back.

I look down and cross my arms over my naked breasts. I guess I am. “Yeah,” I say.

He groans again. “Send me a picture.”

“I’m a lawyer. We don’t do stupid shit like that.” Not to mention that I’m a mom. And moms don’t do that. I look down at my chest and unfurl my arms. “My nipples are hard.”

“Sky!” he hisses, but he’s laughing, too. “Stop it.”

“What’s wrong, Matt?” I tease. I hear him give his address to a cab driver. “Why are you taking a cab?” He usually takes the subway.

“Because I want to get home quickly,” he says.

“Why?” I put one knee on my bed and crawl to the center. I should probably put a shirt on, but I kind of like the naughty feeling of being topless while talking to Matt.

“Because I want to talk you through an orgasm,” he says.

“What?” I ask. My heart skitters.

“You heard me.” He chuckles. “Unless you don’t want me to.” He waits for my answer.

“I want you to,” I whisper.

He hisses in a breath. “Talk to me about something else for a few minutes,” he says over a chuckle. I hear him groan and there’s silence, aside from street noises and a gentle sound when he starts to hum in my ear. I grin. I can’t help it.

After a short ride, I hear him thank the cab driver and slam the car door. Then he’s quiet as he takes the four flights of stairs up to his apartment. He’s breathing a little heavier when he gets to the top, but not much.

“Not now,” I hear him mutter to someone.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Paul.”

“Do you need to go talk to him?”

“All I need to do right now is make you come. He can wait.” I hear his keys clang as he drops them somewhere. Or maybe it’s change from his pocket. “Go lock your door,” he says.