Page 36 of Gift of You
“What are you going to do while I’m working?” Matty trailed a thumb down my jawline. He’d told me he needed to spend a few hours in his studio this afternoon, but had hinted at coming over to my apartment when he was finished.
“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe a nap. Maybe a movie or a book. The beauty of taking a week off is that I can do whatever I want.”
“You don’t strike me as the type of guy who’s very good at keeping still.”
I could see why he might think that. I did like to be out and about. But I treasured my down time as well. “The older I get, the less I feel the need to be constantly in motion. I’ve gotten pretty good at entertaining myself.”
“Good.” He kissed my nose then pulled back. “I should probably get to it.” His body language said he wasn’t happy about it.
“I was thinking about steak soup for dinner. I’ve got plenty of that leftover prime rib to use up. Feel free to come over when you’re done.”
“Sounds perfect.” He kissed me again, then walked toward his apartment. I stood at my door, watching him go, then smiled when he looked at me one more time before stepping inside his own door.
As I’d told Natalie this morning, I was fucked.
Forty-five minutes later,a knock sounded at the door, startling me awake. I’d been reading one of the books I’d found in Matty’s shop and must have fallen asleep. Blinking blearily, I readjusted my glasses, picked the book up from the floor where it must have fallen while I slept, and set it on the coffee table. As I stood to answer the door, the knock sounded again, only this time it sounded a lot less like a knock and a lot more like someone was trying to bust down the door.
“I’m coming,” I called out as I crossed the room. I pulled open the door to find a disheveled looking Matthew, hand raised mid-knock with snowflakes clinging to his hair and eyelashes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping aside to let him in.
He strode past me then turned, and I had just enough time to catch the wild glint in his eye before I found myself pressed upagainst the door with Matty’s thigh pressed between mine and his mouth trailing kisses over every part of my skin that he could find.
What was with this guy and pressing me up against things?
Who was I kidding? I hoped he never stopped.
His cold hands found their way under my sweater, sending a shiver through me as he ran them up and down my chest. He kissed my neck, my jaw, my ear, then finally pounced on my mouth with a ferocious energy I was having difficulty keeping up with.
But I was nothing if not stubborn, and certainly not one to back down from a challenge, leaving me no choice but to rise to the occasion. If he wanted it hard and dirty, then he’d get it hard and dirty.
Untucking his shirt from his jeans, I began working the buttons as he nipped at my lower lip. My glasses fell to the floor with a clatter, but we soldiered on, too caught up in the wild heat of the moment to pay them any mind. Finally releasing the last button of his shirt, I jerked the fabric apart, exposing his chest so I could run my fingers through all that thick hair.
“God, I love the way you feel. So fucking masculine. Your hair. Your skin. It just fuckingdoessomething to me.”
He growled in my ear, then bent down, grasped me under both legs and hoisted me up. I gave the most undignified squeal of surprise, both my legs and arms wrapping around him in a desperate attempt to hold on.
“Don’t step on my glasses,” I said as he turned us away from the door.
“Do you need them?”
“For what we’re about to do? No.”
He carefully nudged them toward the corner and out of the way with his toe, then crossed the room with purposeful strides,as if he wasn’t carrying a one-hundred-and-eighty-pound man like he was a feather. It was the single hottest moment of my life.
“Bedroom?”
“To the right. No, the left. My right, your left.”
He turned in the direction I indicated, only pausing to flip on the light before dumping me on the bed. I didn’t even have a moment to react before he was climbing on top of me, shoving my sweater up and licking a stripe from my navel up to the center of my chest. He slid his way over to my nipple, licking and sucking at it while I wriggled beneath him. When his teeth got in on the act, I nearly bucked him off me. “Fuck, Matty. You’re going to make me come just like that.”
He nipped on the tight bud one more time, then pulled back and began attacking the fly of my jeans. “No coming. Not yet,” he growled, blue eyes piercing through me, demanding that I comply.
“Looking at me like that isn’t helping,” I quipped, unable to contain my sass. Though there was some truth to the statement. My cock was aching, begging to be touched, stroked, or sucked, the need to come burning through me like a wildfire, my orgasm imminent.
The sound of my zipper lowering rang out through the room like the crack of a gunshot, and then he was yanking my pants and briefs down in one fluid motion, not stopping until my lower half was completely bare. We both drew a breath and his eyes flicked to mine, then back down to my dick, standing proudly, begging for attention. His eyes flicked back to mine, and I saw the split second when hesitation flipped to resolve, and then he was diving forward.
It was a blur after that. Wet heat. Suction. The telltale tingling at the base of my spine. His grunt as my cock hit the back of his throat. The feel of his hair tangled in the fingers ofone hand while I gripped the duvet in the other. It was wet and sloppy... and the best goddamn blow job of my life.
