I can’t begin to understand what that means, but I know I want him to kiss me again…more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.
Our breaths become one when he nears, my skin bristling with anticipation, and I close my eyes and wet my lips, my mind reeling from his scent. “Fran, open your eyes,” he whispers, and I oblige, lost in a sea of blue as he drags my bottom lip between his teeth and gently sucks on it. A breathy moan slips out, spurring him to slide his tongue inside and seek out mine.
Our kiss isn’t hurried or frenzied, but slow and tender. He’s exploring my mouth and I find myself wanting him to take his time, to taste me, to savor me. Our tongues wrap around one another and then our arms follow, his chest brushing mine causes my nipples to instantly harden, and I whimper.
He smiles against my lips as he ends the kiss all too soon. “You make a lot of noises,” he says, licking at my bottom lip. “I like them…I’d like to hear more of them.”
Fucking hell. And I’d like to not have an orgasm in the hallway.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I wink, before he swats me playfully on the ass and takes off down the hall.
“Goodnight, sunshine.”
The door closes behind me and I sprint to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m hot, I’m horny, and it’s all Matt’s fault. He drives me absolutely insane. First I had to watch water dribble all over his flawless body and then he tells me he wants to hear me moan, well, those weren’t his exact words, but yeah.
“GAH!” I let out a loud, frustrated howl that thankfully only I can hear, and throw my shoes against the wall with a thud, before ripping off my dress and plunging into the drawer for Matt’s shirt. I’m probably making matters worse but I don’t care. If I can’t have him wrapped around me, his t-shirt is the next best thing.
I stumble over to the chair and dump my purse, unfazed by all the crap that comes flying out until I see my cell phone. Scooping it up, I type in my password to unlock the screen and send Peyton a text.
Come to my room when you can.
Within less than five minutes, there’s a light rapping on the door and in she walks, the words spilling out of my mouth before she can even sit down.
“All right.” I begin pacing around the room, my hands on my hips. “So, I like him, okay. I like him a lot…and yeah, I thought he was a tight-ass, but he’s not, and…I…I don’t know what to do. And…and you’re not saying anything!”
Peyton stands there, letting me ramble, a wide grin stretching across her face. “That’s because you’re talking and you’re really funny.”
I scrunch up my face at her, throwing my hands up in the air. “I’m not trying to be funny!” I shout. “I need help and you’re not helping!”
“Okay, okay.” She bites back a laugh. “Why do you have to do anything? Why not just go with it? Like you told me to do.”
“Because I’m afraid. Because….” I fling myself onto the bed. “I like him. Because…I want to have sex with him and I’m terrified.” Tears pour from my eyes and I’m helpless to even try to stop them, so I let them fall.
“Oh, sweetie.” She lies on her side next to me and props herself up on her elbow. “I know it’s scary but it’s obvious that Matt likes you, too, and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that’s going to take away from that. But you know what, Fran? You’re never gonna know unless you take a risk and if it doesn’t pan out, then at least you’ll know one way or the other.” She pushes away some of the hair that’s stuck to my face. “Personally, I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. He’s not a dick, Fran. However—” she belts out a laugh “—I’m sure he’s got a big one.”
I lift my face up, my mouth falling open before I giggle so hard my stomach starts to hurt. When my laughter subsides and I get a hold of myself, I tell her, “I’m sure he does, too. Those swim trunks were a dead giveaway.” I sit up and wipe my face with the sleeve of Matt’s shirt, covertly inhaling when it reaches my nose. “What about you?”
“I’m good. Just like we talked about before. I’m not thinking. I don’t have time for attachments right now, anyway. No matter how kick ass he is. So…I’m just gonna have fun, that’s all Caleb wants, anyway.”
“Fun. Right. That’s my theory, too.”
Peyton goes back to her room and the rest of my night is a total disaster. I toss and turn the entire time because not only is Matt invading my dreams, but now he’s on my mind when I’m awake, too. Finally at three in the morning, I throw off the covers and head into the bathroom, sprinkle some bubbles and take a nice, warm bath. After an hour in the tub and sleep still evading me, I take out my Kindle and become so entrenched in a story that before I know it, streaks of orange and pink are blanketing the sky just around the time I’m starting to feel sleepy. Setting the alarm for 7:30 a.m., I pull the covers over my head to block out the morning light when I hear what sounds like rustling outside my door. I slip off the bed and tug on a pair of shorts before traipsing over and clicking the handle, only to find an empty hallway. Something on the floor catches my eye and when I look down there’s a single powder pink rose with a hand-written note card that reads:
And there goes my theory, straight to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Four – Matt – Daydreams
I had to get myself off again last night. There was no way around it. After kissing Fran and then seeing her in that hot swimsuit, her nipples on display, the thought of her skin under my lips, I had no choice. Well, I had a choice, but my first option wasn’t available, so I had to use my second one.
She’s driving me crazy. That smile, that spirit, those little moans. Jesus. And then, I bought her a flower and left her a note at six this morning after not sleeping for shit. I stood in that hallway for ten minutes debating whether or not I should leave it for her, but I really wanted to, so I did. What the fuck is happening to me? At the rate I’m going, I’ll be rearranging my cabinets pretty soon and jerking off on a regular basis.
There’s something going on with her and I can’t figure out what it is because she won’t let me in. I’ve seen glimpses of her vulnerability though, on the beach, last night on the terrace. She’s happy one minute, sad the next, or apprehensive—I can’t put my finger on it. I’m trying to piece together the puzzle that is Fran. Problem solving is usually a strength of mine, but not this time. I’m completely stumped.
I stop and grab two coffees for Caleb and me before meeting him in the lobby. He’s dangling an arm over one of the leather couches flirting with a cute, leggy blonde. I shake my head and smile. “Hey, Romeo, you ready?” I ask, nodding toward the door.
Caleb puts an end to his flirting and walks my way, taking a coffee from my hand. “Thanks for the coffee, man.”
“Sure. You know, even after all these years I’ll never understand how you can drink it black, it’s like sludge.” I take a sip of my coffee, grateful for the fact that it doesn’t taste like sludge.
“And I’ll never understand how you can be afraid of clowns,” he mocks.
I nearly choke on a laugh, spitting some coffee onto the sidewalk. When I finally compose myself, I look over at Caleb. “I told Fran.”
“What?” Surprise muddles the gray in his eyes. “I thought I was the only one who knew your darkest secrets.” He presses a hand to his chest. “I’m deeply wounded.”