Page 74 of Twisted Beauty

“Not so fast,” Menendez said, dropping a plate off in the center of the table. A flourless chocolate cake with salted caramel and fresh crème drizzled on top. One of Carlos’s specialties. “My orders are to make you eat dessert, even if I have to force-feed you.”

Liv grabbed a fork. “This looks decadent.” She dug her fork in and scooped out a small piece, holding it out for Matt to taste. He waited for Menendez to walk away before he took the fork from her and shook his head.

“You’re doing it all wrong. Give me your hand.” When she complied, he took her finger in his hand, swept it through the caramel pooled on the plate, and brought it to his lips. When he pulled it into his mouth and sucked, he could swear he heard her whimper.

“Matt,” she whispered.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at his lips. Her eyes were hooded and her breathing ragged.

Matt didn’t remember paying the bill—hell, he barely remembered driving home before he found himself standing in his own kitchen, holding a to-go box of flourless chocolate cake. So he’d probably paid. He threw the cake in the fridge and turned around to see Liv leaning against the kitchen island watching him. Her tongue jutted out of her mouth and she licked her bottom lip, just like she had at the restaurant.

He took two large strides to get to her, twisted her hair around his fist and pulled her head back until she was looking up at him. He brought his mouth to hers in a kiss so frantic their teeth clashed. His tongue tangled with hers, and she clawed at his shoulders, pressing herself closer. Pulling his mouth from hers, he slid her underwear down her legs and tossed them aside.

He lifted her up to set her on the edge of the countertop, bunching her skirt up above her hips. Stepping between her legs, he ran a finger up her slit and felt just how wet she was. Her hips bucked toward his hand, and he slipped a finger inside her, then two. She reached for his zipper and fumbled with his pants until she freed him. Her warm hand wrapped around his shaft and his mind blanked.

“Fuck. You’re dripping wet for me,” he whispered.

He tucked his hands under her knees and brought her legs up around him, sliding her to the very edge of the counter.

“Matt,” she sobbed his name against his lips and snaked her arms around his neck. He stilled her writhing hips with his hands and drove into her, thrusting so deeply his vision blurred.

She was perfection. Tight, wet, and warm. He tried to slow things down, make this last, but he couldn’t do it. He’d never felt this raw, this out of control. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her hips shifted as she met him thrust for thrust, pulling him closer with her heels digging into his ass. He withdrew and drove into her again and again, surrendering to the wildness of it until he felt her tighten around him. She repeated his name over and over again as her body clenched down on his shaft, drawing out his own response.

Only after she unwrapped her legs from his waist and let them drape limply over the edge of the counter did he realize he was still dressed.

Jesus Christ. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sex fully clothed. How the hell did this woman make him so damned crazy?

Liv dropped her head onto his chest, with her hands resting lifeless on his arms. He wrapped an arm around her, supporting her weight against him as she struggled for air.

Finally she lifted her face to look at him. Her lips were pink and slightly swollen from his kisses and her eyes seemed unfocused. “You’re right,” she said. “That was way better than the meal tonight.”

“Not exactly what I meant when I said I’d do better.” Matt barely got the words out through his ragged breath. “And we didn’t use a condom.”

“I know. Like I mentioned before, I’m on the pill, so that part’s not a problem. And I ran out and got tested after I found my ex cheating. So I’m pretty sure I’m clean.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Then it’s okay.” She rested her head back on his chest. “Better than okay if you ask me.”

Matt rubbed a hand along the hem of her dress, still scrunched up around her waist, brushing the bare skin of her hips with his fingertips. “Hell, Liv. I can’t believe we’re still dressed. Like a couple of idiot teenagers.”

“Mmmm, now that is a problem.” She grazed her teeth across his earlobe and ran her tongue over his throat.

Christ. He was already getting hard again.

She reached down and traced a line along the waistline of his unzipped pants, then pushed them down toward his hips. “What do you think we should do about it?”

18

Liv

Liv stepped out of Matt’s car at Mexipup the next morning, after way too little sleep. She slung her camera gear over her arm, wondering why she’d agreed to start so early. She’d had plenty of coffee. A cup Matt made in his French press, and two lattes she’d fixed in that fancy machine of his. But still, she felt worn out.

Maybe it was the all night sex-a-thon. Liv smiled at the thought, and waved goodbye as Matt drove off.

Her mood soured the second she stepped inside the rescue building. It was clean but dark and depressing, with cement floors and only a few small windows. Crates were stacked on top of each other, and it smelled like wet dog.