Page 102 of Dashing for Love

He stands up and pulls me to him. “I love you.” He lifts me off the ground and swings me around, whoops and cheers sounding in the distance.

“Do we have an audience?”

“Do you think Ox and Reid would have it any other way?” he counters, winking beneath the brim of his hat.

“Good point.” I look up at him, reveling in his adoring smile. “Take me home, cowboy.”

Chapter 38

Goldie

MATTY’S LIPS CRASH into mine the second we’re in his house, his hands pulling me to him roughly. I go willingly, melting against him like always and eager to see more of what that thirst-trap video promised.

One button is undone on Matty’s shirt before Kitty and Killer make themselves known, the big dog’s head nudging against my leg while Killer yips excitedly at our feet.

“Fucking dogs,” Matty mutters against my mouth.

I laugh. “Says the soft-hearted veterinarian.”

Groaning, he pulls away and looks at them. “Outside.”

But outside isn’t what they want. They circle me, a tangle of legs and lolling tongues as I pet them and coo at them about the days I’ve not seen them. Matty pulls his boots off and hangs his hat, then leans against the door with his arms folded and a look of adoration on his face.

I raise my eyebrows. “See? You’re a softie.”

“Only for you.” He pauses, then smirks. “And not in certain places.”

Heat streaks through me at the way his eyes darken, and I leave the dogs where they are to make my way to him.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling me flush against his body and slanting his mouth over mine.

Together, we move to his bedroom, where he presses me to the bedroom door and sinks to his knees. He looks up, his hands on my calves. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever have you in my arms again.”

My heart squeezes. I run my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, resting his forehead against my stomach. “I think we were inevitable, Matty.”

He takes my shoes off. “Those days without you were torture. You’ve infiltrated me body and soul, Goldie. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

“I’m yours.” Then I leer at him. “Especially if you can promise me more of those videos.”

He blushes. “Reid could moonlight as a photographer and videographer, I’m telling you.”

“It was Reid?”

“Of course it was.”

“Of course it was,” I repeat, amused.

Matty tugs my skirt down, then laughs. “Are you wearing pajama bottoms under your skirt?”

“I flew out of my house to get to you, Matty. I barely brushed my teeth.”

Growling appreciatively, he pulls the pajama bottoms off and brings his mouth to me, licking slowly up my center.

I gasp, immediately wanting more. But when I try to move us to the bed, Matty holds me in place, spreading me and licking deep, his eyes meeting mine as his lips close around my clit and he sucks.

My knees weaken as he continues, his tongue working wonders on my pussy like always, and my body heats, rushing to the brink faster than ever. “Matthew,” I gasp.

He pushes two fingers inside me in answer, curling them as his mouth, his unbelievable mouth, continues to work me over. His fingers thrust, his tongue swirls, and waves of pleasure wrench their way through me as my hips buck. He takes me through the orgasm, humming against my clit, and when I finally take a breath, he eases back and stands up.

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