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Because if it felt right, if I knew being with Matthew was how it was supposed to be, it couldn’t be wrong, right?
9
Matthew
I heard her come in, the sound of her setting her book bag on the ground seeming overly loud.
I stood by the kitchen sink, my hands wrapped around the edge, staring out the window at the half-constructed gazebo Stephan had started but hadn’t yet finished. My body was tense, the need to go to her strong. But I held my ground, stayed away.
It had been days since Stephan had left for his temp job, and I had made myself scarce, working extra hours, but ensuring sure I was home every night so Ivy wasn’t alone. She might be an adult, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make sure she was safe, make sure she wasn’t alone.
There was a moment where I heard her walking toward the kitchen, but then she stopped. I wondered if she was coming in. It wasn’t like I’d been very friendly the past few days, not since the kiss, not since I told myself I needed to try and keep my distance.
I looked over my shoulder, expecting her to be standing in the doorway, but it was empty. And then I heard the stairs creaking as she went up. My stomach clenched, the need to go to her so fucking strong.
Fuck.
I closed my eyes and faced forward again, knowing I needed to figure out what the fuck I was going to do because this wasn’t working. Living under the same roof as Ivy was torture. Not being able to touch her was painful. And lying about how I felt was driving me crazy.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at that gazebo, thinking about what the hell I was going to do. But it was the sound of the pipes rattling, and then Ivy screaming that had me propelling myself for the stairs. I took them two at a time, heard her down the hall, and raced into the bathroom and saw what had caused the issue.
Water sprayed from the faucet, drenching Ivy. Her mouth was open and her arms were out, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening, that she was soaking wet.
The front of her was drenched, the white material of her shirt sticking to her body. I lost my breath as I stared at her, as I saw the way the fabric formed to her breasts, sticking to them like a second skin. Her nipples were hard, the water no doubt ice cold. I could easily see the dark circles of her areolas.
Motherfucker.
I felt my entire body tighten painfully, my cock hardening. I reached out and curled my hand around the door frame, hearing it creak from the force. And all I could do was stand there and stare at her as water sprayed everywhere, our focus on each other.
“Matthew?” she asked in this small voice, as if she were torn between the situation with the faucet and with me standing there transfixed by the sight of her.
But then I snapped to attention and forced myself to leave her, to go to the basement and shut off the water. I took a moment to just stand there, bracing my hands on my thighs as I bent over and just breathed out, my eyes closed and trying to rein in my control.
I only stood there for a few moments, telling myself that I could control this lust. I could control myself. I headed back upstairs, grabbing the toolbox on my way, and gripped the banister of the stairs as I stepped onto the upper landing. I looked down the hallway but couldn’t see Ivy. That was probably best. As I walked toward the bathroom, I passed her bedroom, the door slightly open. I don’t know why I glanced inside, maybe hoping to see her, maybe being filled with some sick, masochistic desire to see what I couldn’t have.
But then I froze, my body hardening as I saw her through the slightly ajar door. She had her shirt off, her smooth, perfect back in view, her skin this peachy color, the slight indentation of her spine running down the center having my mouth watering.
I saw the image of me on my knees behind her, my hands gripping her hips, my forehead resting on the center of her back. I could practically smell the soap on her skin, this sweet fragrance that came from her. I could picture myself running the tip of my nose up the length of her spine before following that trail with my tongue.
This deep groan left me before I could stop it, and she looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening as she saw me standing there.
Fuck.
I shut my eyes, placing that wall between us again, feeling my face harden, my expression go cold. Her eyes widened even further and I knew it wasn’t because of the surprise of me standing there, but because of the change in my demeanor. I turned before I could make things worse, or I could ruin anything. Once in the bathroom I shut the door, locking myself in there, and putting an extra barricade between Ivy and me.
