Tempted and Taken, page 11
Withdrawing several inches, Matt shoved back in, resuming the relentless, glorious pace he’d set before. Liza never moved her hands from where he’d placed them on the pillow, even though he wasn’t holding them there.
She didn’t need her hands anyway.
Her orgasm fluttered back to life and Matt, the clever bastard, put his money where his mouth was. His fingers stroked her clit with the perfect amount of pressure and speed, and all Liza could do was hold on for the ride as she splintered into a million sparkling pieces.
Her vision went white, which felt wrong because she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t blacked out for a few seconds.
When she recovered enough to notice her surroundings, she discovered Matt was still fucking her, still taking her like a man possessed.
“Fuck!” she cried as a harder, more piercing climax struck, this one taking Matt down with it.
He fell to his elbows, his labored breathing hot on her face. He remained inside her, neither of them in a hurry to part. His dick, even soft, made her feel full.
After what felt like ages, he lifted his head, his face inches from hers. He hadn’t kissed her through the entire thing, and suddenly it occurred to her that she wanted that, she missed it.
Matt’s eyes were locked with hers. “Stay with me in Hawaii.”
His invitation took her by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. He’d expressed an interest in a sexual relationship with her, and she’d obviously given him the all systems go when she wiggled her ass.
“Is that a request or a command?” she asked with a grin.
“Yes.”
She laughed at his succinct reply. “Okay. But just so you know, it’s not very professional.”
Matt smiled widely, the happy expression rare enough that it took Liza’s breath away. Because Matt’s hotness factor increased a thousand percent when he smiled.
Her agreement acquired, Matt pulled away, climbing out of bed and walking to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
Liza considered washing up, but her bones had been liquified, and she wasn’t sure she could walk if she tried.
She lay there in the quiet of the room, the hum of the plane engines’ white noise in the background. She had no idea if they’d had any more turbulence, the two of them shaking the bed enough to overshadow everything happening around them.
Liza stared at the ceiling, letting what she’d just done sink in.
She’d slept with Matt again. More than that, she’d agreed to an affair with him. An affair neither of them had put any timeline on. She supposed that took them out of the enemies category and put them in the—hmm—fuck buddies one?
She waited for the regret to show up, but so far, nothing.
Given her expansive backlog of disappointing, lukewarm sexual encounters, she suspected it would take some time before regret reared its head because she wasn’t a bit sorry about anything that happened in this bed, too overwhelmed by the desire to do it all again.
Of course, Matt had fucked her to within an inch of her life, so she should probably give herself a bye on thinking too deeply about anything tonight.
The bathroom door opened and Matt returned, naked as the day he was born.
God, he was gorgeous. His smirk proved he knew she was appreciating the view, but she didn’t bother playing innocent. Just gave him a smirk of her own, shamelessly winking as he climbed back into bed with her.
Matt drew the duvet they’d kicked off over them, twisting her away from him and spooning her the way he had earlier.
“Good night, Matt,” she whispered, her eyelids suddenly very heavy.
“Good night, Ms. Moretti.”
Liza fell asleep quickly, and with a smile on her face.
Chapter Nine
Matt glanced over at the sound of Liza’s happy sigh and cursed himself for being a fool. She’d had his dick twisted in a knot since the night of the gala, which was a huge problem since that was the body part he was thinking with these days.
He’d had his head turned by Liza from the first moment he’d seen her, and if he’d been able to keep it in his pants, remembering she was the forbidden fruit, he would have been fine. But he’d taken that taste after the gala, then another on New Year’s, and he’d foolishly convinced himself he could go back for more without any serious repercussions.
Now, as he looked at her profile, her lips slightly upturned as she soaked up the sun, there was no pretending this wasn’t going to end badly. For both of them.
Liza was someone he could easily fall in love with if he allowed it to happen.
In the past, he always drew a line in the sand when it came to lovers, and he’d never stepped a toe over it. Sex was sex and emotion played no part in it.
Last night, he’d attempted to draw that line with Liza, offering her sex without strings. And then…he’d immediately crossed it by inviting her to share his hotel suite with him.
Even now, he couldn’t figure what the hell had provoked him to do such an utterly stupid thing. He’d been laying on top of her, his cock still tucked inside her body, and all he could think was that he needed to grab as much of her as he could, as quickly as he could, because this was going to implode too soon.
“I swear it’s going to take an entire week of this gorgeous sunshine to thaw me out from everything Philadelphia has thrown at us the last few months,” she said, her eyes closed beneath her sunglasses. She was laying on the lounger next to him, the ocean waves rolling along the white sand beach about twenty feet away. A light breeze blew in from the sea, so even though the sun was bright, it wasn’t hot or humid. It was perfect weather.
“It has been a brutal winter.” He reached for the drink the cabana boy had delivered earlier. They’d both ordered mai tais. He typically didn’t go for fruity drinks, but when in Rome…
It had been nearly four a.m. Hawaii time before they’d checked into their suite, and while they’d caught several hours of sleep on the plane, they agreed it would be smart to get a few hours more in order to avoid jet lag.
They woke up around eight, neither of them in a hurry to get out of bed.
Now that they’d opened the floodgates on sex without strings, Matt hadn’t been able to resist caging her beneath him and fucking her like his life depended on it. It had been shortly before ten when they’d managed to drag themselves away from each other. Showering separately—because they agreed a joint shower would ensure they missed lunch as well as breakfast—they’d gone in search of brunch after working up one hell of a hunger.
While eating, they discussed the day’s plan like they were travel companions. That was when Matt should have said “catch you later in bed” and spent the day fortifying his walls. Instead, his dick made the call, so here he was, lying next to her on a lounge chair so they could—as Liza suggested—recuperate from their day of travel by taking it easy.
In addition to attending the wedding, which was taking place in three days, Liza shared the list of touristy things she planned to do over the course of the week, since she’d never been to Hawaii. Matt had traveled to the islands a few times, and he’d even done several of the things on her list. Regardless of that, he’d agreed to accompany her to all of it. He was a sucker, drunk on sex. It was the only explanation he could come up with.
For the first hour on the beach, they both read as they sunbathed, but then Liza had put her book down and started a conversation. For the past three hours, the two of them had talked about every subject under the sun, including politics, movies, music tastes, and favorite Philly haunts. Liza was interesting and a witty storyteller, who spoke not just in words but with her expressions and Italian hand gestures. His father had broken Matt’s habit of speaking with his hands long ago, calling the gestures common, but as he watched Liza animatedly waving her hands around, she was nothing short of adorable.
Matt preferred to play his cards close to his chest, but Liza had a way of asking him simple questions, then drawing out more and more, until he found himself telling her things he’d never told anyone. Not that he’d revealed any big secrets.
Instead, he’d talked about his childhood with Gage and Conor, the games they’d played, how he’d had a stellar tenth birthday party complete with pony rides, and how he’d apparently been quite the little liar in kindergarten, telling his teacher that his grandfather had been run over by a fire truck—he hadn’t—and how his dad had broken both legs after falling off a ladder—also untrue. Matt’s mother used to bring the story up quite often to him, laughing about her confusion when his teacher had called to offer her sympathy over their family’s tragedies.
Liza had roared with laughter, teasing him that she wasn’t surprised in the slightest he’d been a “little shit” when he was young.
That was when it occurred to Matt that he’d done such a good job repressing past memories, that he’d lost the happy ones along with the bad.
Then Liza regaled him for the better part of an hour about her girlfriends’ “bad habit” of falling for her cousins and brothers. Matt always tried to give her family a wide berth, thanks to bad blood and past sins, so most of what she shared was news to him. Gage probably knew all these stories, but by tacit agreement, his brother didn’t share a lot of details about his newfound Moretti friends, and Matt didn’t ask.
While Liza joked about her friends’ new romances, it was clear she was enthralled by the love matches and thrilled that her best friends were either now family or on their way there.
Her brother Elio had married Gianna Duncan, the two becoming parents last September. That was the relationship that felt normal to him.
Because her brother Aldo and cousin Tony were both currently in committed threesomes, something Matt struggled to wrap his head around. Of course, that was probably because he’d spent the better part of his life resisting the idea of shacking up with one person. Spending the rest of his life with two partners? No thanks.
Liza pulled off her sunglasses and rolled to her stomach.
“Did you put sunscreen on your back?”
She lifted her head, shaking it slightly and squinting at him. “Can’t reach.”
Matt pushed up from his chair, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen from her bag. Perching on the edge of her lounge chair, he poured some onto his palm and began rubbing it onto her upper back.
“Mmm,” she hummed. “That feels good. You’re spoiling me.”
Matt opened his mouth to say he liked taking care of her, but he shut up quick. Admissions like that would continue to muddy waters that were already thick with sludge. Rather than speak, he stroked her back and shoulders, letting his hands do the talking as he rubbed the sunscreen in.
She was wearing a red string bikini, and it had driven him to distraction all afternoon.
Untying the string at the back, he kept touching her, massaging her skin under the guise of lathering her with sunscreen, when really, he had just reached the point where he couldn’t keep his hands off her for a second longer.
Liza looked up at him over her shoulder, desire smoldering in her gaze.
“Better not miss this spot.” Matt squirted more sunscreen on his palms, cupping her ass cheeks and squeezing them hard enough that she gasped, then he started his rubbing motions. “The only thing that’s going to make this gorgeous ass red is my hand…or my belt.”
Liza squirmed on the chair, his touches having the desired effect. He’d been riding half-mast ever since she walked out of the bathroom in this bikini. It was time she did a bit of suffering too.
“Matt,” she whispered, as his fingertips drifted between her upper thighs. One tiny stroke and then he drew his hands lower, spreading the sunscreen on the backs of her legs.
“Hmm?” He pretended not to understand her distress as he snapped the cap closed on the bottle, tossed it back into her bag, retied her bikini top, and returned to his chair.
Liza’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a terrible tease.”
He chuckled. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“You better,” she muttered, dropping her head back down, her eyes closing once more, though her cheeks were now flushed…and not from the heat.
“Maybe we should put some of this downtime to good use,” he said before taking another sip of his drink.
“How?” she asked lazily.
“I think we determined last night that you’re okay with being spanked.”
She was clearly all in on this topic, as she sat up, facing him. “More than okay with it.”
“Where do you stand on bondage?”
Liza tilted her head, considering the question for a moment. “It’s definitely a turn-on for me, but only in an academic, masturbation-fantasy way. I’ve never dated a guy I trusted enough to try it with.”
It was a good answer, but one that might bite him in the ass because his and Liza’s past association had been rocky at best. “Trust is important.”
She studied his face hard, then bit her lower lip, almost nervously. “Would it freak you out to know that I trust you?”
It freaked him out more than he could admit. But it also made him feel like he was ten feet tall and bulletproof.
He wanted Liza’s trust, even though he knew he was going to betray it.
Rather than admit that, he simply shook his head. “No, it doesn’t,” he lied. “So bondage is on the table. How about anal?”
This time, her response was instantaneous. “No.”
“Why not?” He tried not to chuckle at the outright panic on her face.
“Not to inflate that already overinflated ego of yours, but that beast between your legs just about fits in my…” Rather than say the word vagina, she gestured to it with her hands.
Matt shook his head as if disappointed. “No guts, no glory.”
“I can live with that.”
He didn’t push her on that decision, though he made a mental note to revisit the topic when they were in bed and he could give her a tease of what he was offering—because he was definitely putting a butt plug in that gorgeous ass of hers.
Matt moved on to the next item on his mental list. He intended to put this time in Hawaii to good use because—while they hadn’t put a time limit on this affair—he suspected things would become more difficult once they returned to Philadelphia and real life. “I know you enjoyed the spanking, but I’ll confess I’m not into serious pain—yours or mine. If that’s something you want—”
She shook her head. “It isn’t. That’s not one of my kinks. Truthfully, I’m probably pretty vanilla. For me, it’s the…” She paused.
“It’s the submission you want to explore.”
Liza nodded. “I’m struggling to understand where this desire is coming from because I’ve never felt this burning need with past lovers. Never felt compelled to obey—God, I really hate that word—someone else’s demands.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone else to take control in the bedroom. It’s a common turn-on for a lot of people—male and female.”
“And you don’t mind? I mean…being the one to…” She waved her hands around rather than speak the words.
“I’m a control freak, Liza. Perhaps you’ve noticed.”
She snickered.
“That character trait doesn’t turn off when I step into a bedroom. If anything, it’s stronger there.”
“So, I guess this,” she gestured between them, “makes sense. We’re sexually compatible and we’re both single. Feels like a win-win.”
“It does.”
“Even if you are a Russo,” she tacked on with a wicked grin.
“No one is more surprised by this than me, Ms. Moretti.” He enjoyed the way she laughed at his joke, and he recalled Christmas Eve dinner with his brothers. The way Conor and Gage had cracked up at each other’s jokes. Yet with him, they became more serious, less fun.
Liza’s lighthearted behavior sharply contrasted how other people acted around him. Perhaps that was part of her appeal. She didn’t act like he was the world’s most miserable bastard; rather, she seemed to enjoy his company. Then he realized the same held true of Arnold and Johnnie.
“Taking out the relationship factor makes this a lot easier for me too,” Liza continued.
Matt knew why, though it chafed.
If the two of them maintained a casual affair—without commitment or emotion—she could keep her association with him a secret from her family and friends, most of whom would not approve of her sleeping with him.
Those sins of the past reared their ugly head again. Memories of the things he’d done to her family—and to his—had ensured he’d spent years wallowing in self-loathing and regret.
The constant drip-drip-drip of water.
Dark red blood congealed on the snowy-white tiles.
The blue-tinged skin of a lifeless arm.
Look deeper.
Matt restrained a shudder. There’d been a time when he thought he had managed to put those horrors behind him. Then Gage shared the guilt he’d felt in regard to their mother’s suicide and sent Matt back to those days just following her death.
Liza picked up her mai tai and took a long drink, finishing it. “Should we head inside? Shower and relax for a little while, then figure out dinner?”
Matt rose, grateful for the reprieve she’d just offered. He’d excuse himself once they returned to the room, hide out on the porch until he could shut down these unwanted thoughts.
“That’s a good idea. I need to check my messages. Make sure Gage and Conor haven’t driven Russo Enterprises into the ground in the past twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about Conor. I get the feeling he’s as big a workaholic as you are.”
“He is,” Matt confirmed.
“Gage, on the hand, is another story entirely,” Liza added, as they gathered up their things and started walking back to the hotel. “The cat’s away, so I suspect your IT mice are spending a lot of time playing in that game room you foolishly let your brother build at work.”
Matt sighed. “He insisted it was to test the games produced by the tech company he bought, but I’m afraid you’re probably right. I spend a lot of time debating whether Penny has been a good or bad influence on my brother. In the past, Gage at least attempted to hide his nerdy side. Now it’s hanging out there all the time for the whole world to see.”
