Page 58 of Worth the Chase

“I want you so bad, baby, but not like this,” Matthew breathed against my neck as he nipped at my skin and sucked.

“I want you too,” I said, needing him to know that I was right there with him.

He stopped kissing and lowered my body from his. “But not like this, right?”

My heart rate started to slow, and the emotional distraction started to wane. “Not when I’m this full, no.”

He reached for my hand and placed a kiss on top before leaning down and kissing my lips once more. “Go inside. I’ll see you soon, baby.”

Baby.

“Text me when you get home,” I said.

He nodded before hopping into his truck and rolling down the passenger window.

“Get inside.” He pointed at my apartment door.

I pulled off my heels, held them in my hand, and ran up the stairs.

Only once I was inside with the door closed did I hear his truck pull away. The thing growled and probably woke up my entire building.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come home or not.” Anna’s voice reached me, and I spun around to see her sprawled out on the couch with what looked like five blankets on top of her, the television playing a rerun ofFriends. “Oh, you’ve been kissed.”

I ran my fingers across my lips and started smiling. “How do you know that?”

“Well, for one, you have no lipstick on anymore, but that could have come off while you were eating. But two, your lips are swollen. Likeyou’ve been kissing for hoursswollen.”

We had not been kissing for hours, but my lips did feel bruised from all the sucking and playing around our mouths did.

“So”—she sat up and patted the spot next to her—“how was it?”

“Amazing.” I plopped down next to her, grabbed a blanket, and held it against my stomach. “Except that I’m so full that I feel like I might throw up.”

“Ew. Gross. That is not sexy, Isabella,” she said, using my full name so I knew she was serious.

“I know it’s not, but the chef kept bringing us food, and it would have been rude to not at least try everything. But now, I feel awful.”

“And that’s why you’re here instead of at home with him, am I right?” She wagged her eyebrows at me.

“You are correct,” I agreed.

“This is a very unfortunate turn of events, Isabella. I expected better from you tonight,” she lectured, but in a teasing way.

“You wanted me to sleep with him on the first date?” I pretended to sound shocked and downright appalled, but she only giggled.

“Damn straight. It’s a first date, like, ten years in the making.”

“Honestly, I would have. I would have gone home with him and let him have his way with me and not felt bad about it at all,” I said. The realization didn’t so much as hit me as gave me a gentle nudge.

Matthew was going to be my first. And I was totally okay with that. A few weeks ago, I’d been nervous, concerned that I might fumble or feel like a fool somehow in the bedroom. But when he was kissing me, I didn’t care about any of those things. I only wanted more.

“Sex is nothing to feel bad about.”

“I know that,” I said because I didn’t feel bad about wanting to have it. At least not anymore.

My phone pinged, and I reached for it, noticing a text from Matthew, telling me he was home safe and sound. I responded and focused back on my best friend with an all-telling smile plastered on my face.

She adjusted a little and the blankets fell from around her shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re going to marry Matthew O’Grady!”

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