Page 41 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

With his dick pulsing between her legs and the promise of an orgasm coursing through her, she wanted to stay right there on the edge with him for as long as she could.

And she wanted to stay in his arms even longer.

The thought of them together collided with the way Matt was currently playing her body. “Oh, God. Matt,” she cried as her body went taut. The surge of energy exploded within her, a kaleidoscope of light flashing behind her eyes.

Matt thrust once, twice, so deep she could feel it as he released inside her. “Izabel.”

His gasps of breath fluttered against the skin on the side of her neck before he placed a single kiss behind her ear.

Her heart raced in her chest, faster than the beat of any song Matt had ever written. They’d just made love. And it had been everything she’d hoped and imagined it would be. She stroked her fingers over his back, feeling his damp skin, feeling the way he flinched when she ran them over his hip. Who knew rock star Matt Palmer was ticklish?

She did it again.

“Iz,” he warned in a growl, and she grinned.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “Think that’s funny, do you?”

Izabel bit back a laugh and shook her head. “Not at all.”

Matt grinned, and then lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss she felt all the way to her toes. The kiss shook her already fried nerves awake. It told her he’d enjoyed every minute of what they’d just done, but he wasn’t finished with her yet.

And she was so ready for more.

When he pulled back, the humour was gone from his eyes. “That was intense. In a really-can’t-wait-to-do-it-again kind of way.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Izabel smiled to hide the pain of his words. She knew he only meant tonight. She couldn’t wait to do it forever, but he hadn’t thought past the next twenty-four hours.

But if tonight was all she had, she’d build enough memories to take forward with her. The kind of memories she could take out and revisit when she thought of him.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” she said, shaking off her thoughts.

“I didn’t either. I think it’s you. You have a magical touch.”

Matt reached between them and withdrew from her before disappearing to deal with the condom. When he lay back down on the bed, he tugged her into his arms, pulling her close, holding her tight.

She felt safe, secure, even loved in his arms. Izabel buried her face against his chest.

“It was more than I imagined,” Matt said softly, his fingers teasing the ends of her hair.

“Same,” she murmured in agreement.

She ran her fingers over his tattoos. Three worker bees over his heart. Bees being the symbol of Manchester. Three of them to represent the three rivers that ran through the city. The Irk, the Irwell and the Medlock. An ornate clipper ship wrapped around his ribs, a tribute to his beloved Man City Football Club and the canals on which Manchester was built.

Izabel memorised the rise and fall of his abs, the gentle curve of his pecs.

Panic flooded her. Time was running out. “It’s not fair that this is all we get.”

Matt placed a finger beneath her chin and kissed her slowly. “No, it’s not. But I don’t want to waste a minute of it.”

He tugged Izabel so she lay over him, his firm body beneath hers, his arms caging her as his palms ran up and down her back. She could feel him growing hard beneath her again, and desire for him pooled between her legs.

“I fucking love your eyes,” he said, cupping her cheeks.

When he studied her like this, she could have sworn she saw their forever in his. “Kiss me, Matt.”

He did as she asked. He kissed her as though thiswasforever. And when he slid into her again, when he took her like she was the most precious thing in his world, when they came together as if they’d been making love with each other their whole lives, her heart broke, knowing that when the morning came, the fantasy would be over.

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