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"I'll fuck you when I want to fuck you. Until then." He trailed his tongue from her clit all the way down to her opening. "You'll have to be patient."
She reached for his shoulder and pulled. "I don't want to be patient. I want you. I want to."
He grabbed each of her wrists and pinned them to her side, and he fucked her with his mouth, harder and faster. "You're going to be patient," he said again, and this time he was met with no protest.
He couldn't control her forever, though. In fact, he was having a hard enough time controlling himself, so after another moment of writhing and squirming, he pulled back, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down alongside his boxers. When he did, she gasped.
"You..." she said, but that was the whole of it. She stared transfixed to the place where his cock jutted out, hard and swollen and waiting for her.
"I want to fuck you now. Spread your legs for me," he rasped, and she lay back obediently, waiting for him. He crawled between her legs and then grabbed each of her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand.
"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asked.
She nodded.
That was all he needed.
Gripping himself with his free hand, he pushed inside of her inch by inch and let out a slow, steady groan of, "Fuuuuuuuck."
If he'd thought he was hard before, it was nothing compared to the pounding, insistent need he felt as soon as he buried himself to the hilt.
Then? He was lost.
* * *
When Shay woke up the next morning, her heart plunged into her stomach and she tossed in bed, hoping to find an empty space beside her. That maybe, just maybe, it had all been a dream and she hadn't really spent the evening moaning in Matt Archer's embrace.
His strong, warm embrace...
She shook her head, blinked her eyes open, and stared at the exact empty space she'd hoped to see. She blinked again.
There was a tiny note on the pillow beside her, and she picked it up cautiously before scanning the sloppily penned words.
Shay—
Thought it might not be a good idea to come out of the same bedroom in the morning. Hope you understand.
Matt
She leaned back against the pillows and crumpled the note in her fist.
Okay, there was no way of changing the past. Even if she didn't understand the lunacy of why the hell she'd given in. Why the hell she'd melted under his touch like she'd never been with a man before. Like he was water and she had been dying of thirst.
The image of his sculpted, naked chest drifted through her mind, and she caught herself smiling.
Shit. No. This was Matt Archer. He was a client. Andy's brother. Her sworn nemesis.
She needed to get back to that. Needed to focus on their professional relationship. She needed to... needed to...
She needed to get the hell out of her own head was what she needed.
Quickly, she swung her legs over the side of the
bed and jumped to her feet. After dressing in yoga shorts and a tank top, she slipped quietly from the room and then out the sliding door off the living room, out onto the beach.
She'd go for a run, let the cool ocean air fill her lungs, and clear her head. That was just the ticket.
Humming "Eye of the Tiger" to herself, she started jogging along the coast, letting the water lap at her naked feet. She closed her eyes, let herself focus on the grit of the sand between her toes, the arch of her feet, as her weight swung from one leg to the other.
