He hadn’t mentioned what he’d ordered for dinner, so she pulled out a couple plates then poured herself a glass of juice, crawled onto the couch and tucked herself in with one of the quilts draped within easy reach.
No music. No television as white noise.
Just silence.
There was a faint rumble of sound from the street, but nothing too jarring. She took in the peace and attempted to spread it through every bit of herself.
Calmness.
Quiet.
The heat of the quilt slowly soaking in.
Her plan worked so well that by the time Matt knocked and she rose to let him in, she felt far looser and relaxed than she thought possible.
His gaze darted over her outfit as he held forward a case of beer. “You look comfy. Should have told me we were having a pyjama party.”
“You’re always welcome to wear whatever you want in my place. There was no way I was going to dress up tonight. Sorry.”
“Trust me, I’m not complaining.” He tilted his head toward the door. “The delivery car pulled in just behind me. Let me grab the food and we’ll get cozy.”
“You want a drink?”
He nodded then slipped outside. Hope wandered into the kitchen and found room in the fridge for his beer, opening one and setting it on the table. The scent of Chinese food wafted in with him, the door clicking tight at his back, and she hurried to grab the paper bags from him.
“Holy cow, who else is joining us?” There was enough to feed far more than two people, even hungry ones.
Matt squirmed but kept unpacking the silver-lidded containers onto the tabletop. “I didn’t want to bother you and check what you wanted. But then I realized I had no idea what you liked or disliked, so I got a whole bunch of stuff. I figured anything you hate I can take home. Everything else? Dig in.”
Hope caught him by the arm. “Thank you, but before we load our plates, you forgot one thing.”
His confused expression made her smile. She’d been waiting all day for this. Actually, she’d been waiting all night as well. A light tug brought their bodies into contact and his eyes lit up.
The kiss was better than any appetizer she remembered. Matt held her an extra moment after their lips parted, his strong fingers caressing her neck. “You okay?”
The soft-spoken question carried a ton of meaning. If anyone understood the frustrations she’d experienced over the past day? He did.
She nodded. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. And sending over Jaxi this morning? Brilliant. I should have thought of it.”
“That’s why being friends is a good thing. You don’t have to think of everything on your own.” He tweaked her nose then grabbed a plate and passed it to her. Matt glanced around. “You want to eat at the table?”
“You don’t mind us being terribly antisocial and watching some television while we eat?”
He shook his head. “As long as I get to sit next to you, I’m good.”
They got settled on the couch, plates loaded with food. Matt handed her the control and she laughed.
“The ultimate example of self-sacrifice.”
“I will steal it back if you turn to one of those ‘what not to wear’ shows.”
Hope found some CSI reruns and snuggled tight against him, their legs stretched side by side, feet on the coffee table, with quilts draped over their laps and around their shoulders. Matt got up and refilled his plate, and her juice glass, but for the next couple of hours all they did was eat and watch TV. When the food was gone, they just cuddled and vegetated.
Her head rested on his chest, her eyes almost closed. Their plates were pushed to the side, and Matt was as good as holding her up, his strong arm cradling her.
The sigh of contentment that slipped out wasn’t anything but heartfelt.
“That sounds as if you’re feeling better.”
Hope groaned as she rearranged her limbs to sit more vertically. “Better, but stuffed. Man, you outdid yourself with the food.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll go pop the leftovers in the fridge. You stay and relax.”
She was going to protest, but the determined expression on his face changed her mind. “There are plastic containers in the middle drawer if you need any.”
He moved easily in the small space, loading cartons into the fridge and even wiping the table off before coming back to grab their dirty plates.
Hope pulled herself to her feet to work beside him. “There’s room in the dishwasher.”
The situation was comfortable. Easy. Another sensation rose as they bumped hips and shared the dishtowel. The third time he cornered her by the fridge she realized it was deliberate, the press of his hips against hers. The graze of their bodies together.
“You looking for a bigger kitchen, Matt?”
“Hmm, nope. This one is the perfect size.”
She was in the middle of rinsing her glass when he moved behind her, muscular forearms framed in her peripheral vision as his arms surrounded her. Matt leaned forward and breathed deep from beside her neck, his whiskers tickling her bare skin, and she shivered.
His dark chuckle made it clear he knew why.
“You spending the night?” She barely got the words out. He’d pressed his lips to the sensitive spot he’d scraped and was sucking lightly, causing all kinds of interesting reactions inside her.
His tongue rasped over the same spot. A line of tiny bites followed all the way to her earlobe. She wasn’t sure what he would do next, but one thing was certain, watching television had lost all its charm.
“I planned on staying. So if you want me, you need to put down the glass before you drop it.”
Hope lowered the goblet with shaky fingers, the base rattling on the counter for a second before she steadied it. Did she want him? Here? Now?
Oh yes. Oh hell, yes.
She twisted in his arms, and his plan of going slow and being gentle vanished like the bubbles disappearing from the dishwater. Hope stared into his eyes, lashes fluttering for a moment before she lowered her chin and melted against him.
He caught her up, one arm scooped under her knees, cradling her against his chest as he took them straight back to her room. All the frustrations, all the aching tension between them—there would be time for a slow seduction later. Right now he felt the urge to distract them both, and the hotter and dirtier, the better.
Mat lowered her to the bed then closed the door.
Hope laughed. “You worried about someone dropping in?”
“Nope.” He stared at the full-length mirror on the back of the door, mind racing through the possibilities it presented, before turning toward her. “Strip.”
No hesitation. She reached for her top and peeled it upward. Her naked breasts appeared, the firm rounds bouncing at him as she arched her back and shuffled off her flannel bottoms.
Less than ten seconds. Long enough for his cock to go from hard to an iron spike. He stripped, his clothes discarded in a pile on top of the dark blue fabric of her pyjamas.
Nothing between them. Nothing but too damn much air.
“Kneel for me. Right in the center of the bed.”
Hope tore her gaze off his body, the lust on her face switching to curiosity. Was she wondering what he’d do next? He wouldn’t keep her guessing for very long. She obeyed his command, her knees spread wide as she found a balanced position. He stared, impressed that heat radiating off her could be felt where he stood two feet away.
“Turn around.”
A whimper of need escaped her lips, the bed rocking as her knees dipped into the mattress. He waited until she faced the headboard, then spoke again, the words rasping out.