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My whole body was still shaking in the aftermath of a near orgasm, and having Matt raging in my face was just making it a whole lot worse.
“Who the fuck is Jackson?” He asked again, his voice filled with direness. I could see the flames swimming around in his gray eyes, making them darker than I remembered them being.
I had never felt fear around Matt until he looked at me like that. The thrill of danger turned me on more than I’d like to admit, and Matt wore wrath like a fine-tailored suit.
He held me in a tight grasp, his expression turning darker and heavier at the lack of a reply. I couldn’t help it. I was paralyzed in a trance, induced by his burning gaze. I felt like he was uncovering my deepest secrets with those eyes, trying to peel back layer after layer of my hidden truth. Was this jealousy? Possessiveness?
Fuck, I wanted it to be all that and more.
“WHO THE FUCK IS JACKSON, FRANCESCA?” He growled in an even more threatening tone, the harshness of his grasp intensifying tenfold, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“It’s none of your goddamn business,” I bit back between gritted teeth. I wasn’t about to give in. Almost, but not yet.
“The hell it isn’t. You are my wife.” He leaned in closer to my face, his jaw muscles clenching like a pulse while his warm pants seared my skin. “Don’t you forget that!”
“Oh, right. I had forgotten that I’m your property now, and that gives you the right to rule over my life, conscious or not.” I sarcastically replied.
“I think I have the right to know who my wife is calling for at the end of a fucking sex dream. Now, this is the last time I’m asking you. Who. The fuck. Is Jackson?” I could feel the anger-generated heat that radiated from his body drenching onto my skin.
Fuck. Now Matt was left thinking that it was all about Jackson. How was I going to tell him that it wasn’t? That it was about him?
I couldn’t. Not a damn chance. I couldn’t give him that power over me. Could I?
Matt was still looking deep into my eyes, waiting for me to reply. I saw his face change from anger to disappointment before plunging into something that resembled a feeling he had no right to feel. Hurt. The curve in his eyes shifted in seconds, together with the knot in my stomach.
Before he harshly released his grasp, his lips curled into what seemed like disgust. He turned away, darting to the end of the plane in heavy, wide steps. He’s leaving again.
For some reason, I felt another sharp sting in my chest watching him give up on it. For some odd reason, it seemed like he was giving up on me. On us.
I couldn’t hold the words from tumbling out of my mouth even if I tried. “He’s my ex-boyfriend,” I blurted as I followed behind him.
Matt stopped walking and just stood there for a few moments before he turned back towards me. My heart slammed in my chest, one powerful beat like thunder before I felt it drop to the pit of my stomach.
“I hope you enjoyed him.” He spat in disgust, his eyes raking over my body in a look I had never seen him wear towards me.
“The dream wasn’t about him.” I found myself confessing to his back in a loud, impulsed voice before whispering the embarrassing truth with my head hanging low. “It was about you.”
My admission was a forced reaction to that look of his. I didn’t care for the gloat I was sure would follow, but somehow, it weighed less than having Matt look at me as if I was an infectious disease.
But the mockery never came. Instead, I merely blinked, and Matt was standing just a breath away.
He was so close I could feel him standing there even with my eyes shut. I could taste the scent of his alluring cologne, feel his presence in my soul.
I turned to go back to my seat, but Matt’s hand gently grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him.
There was something about that confession that stripped me naked, rendering me completely vulnerable now that he knew that he ruled in my dreams, too. I wasn’t one to be shy or ashamed, but with him, it was like everything had an amplified effect. Damn I was a mess.
My heart was racing at an impatient and erratic speed, leaving me breathless, my chest rising and falling as if I had run a marathon.
Matt’s hand reached my chin, pulling my face up, making sure my eyes were locked onto his. He searched my soul for a few moments, looking for any hint of dishonesty but finding none.
His eyes changed again, a softer hue painting them with a different expression as a devilish grin spread those delicious lips. My hands clenched into fists, bracing myself for what was coming as he slowly leaned into my ear. “Tell me, Wife. What was the dream about?” His voice was a hushed whisper, tickling my ear.
Every word made my body shudder as all the very vivid images came flashing back together with the pulsating heat between my legs. This was all it took for Matt to get to me. My craving for him was so strong that his closeness was enough to cut my breath from my lungs.
I shook my head in denial. I couldn’t admit to what I had fantasized about. It was already bad enough that he knew that I was having a wet dream about him.
But Matt didn’t care about my sudden need for decorum. He was adamant to get the truth out.
