Flying Read online

  “Sorry,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Really. It’s okay.”

  He leaned in to kiss her.

  Her phone chimed.

  “Cock-blocked by technology,” Stella said.

  Both of them burst into laughter. It was cathartic, a release of sorts, kind of like orgasm in the way it built and built, then crashed. The bed shook with it, they gasped with it, it stole their breath the way good sex would have. It felt as intimate as sex. It felt real.

  “You’d better check it.”

  She did. It was from Cynthia, of course, telling Stella not to worry. Jeff would pick Tristan up at the house whenever he got home and bring him to their place. She’d added a *hugs* at the end of the message, totally irrelevant and useless and also annoying. Cynthia added it to almost every message. It was probably her sig line.

  “Important?” Matthew asked.

  Stella tossed her phone into her bag and put it on the floor. “No.”

  Then they were kissing again, and his hands were moving over her. He pulled her tank top over her head and pushed her onto the bed at the same time. He covered her with his body, his mouth moving on hers, down her jaw and throat and finally to her breasts. Stella moaned when he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. Then the other.

  He moved off her just long enough to pull his shirt off too, revealing a chest and belly as nicely muscled as his arms. And hair, oh, she did like a man’s chest to have hair. Not too much, not like a pelt or anything, but a nice pattern of it on his pecs and then a bit more down lower on his belly.

  “What?” He’d stopped kissing her, noticing her looking.

  “Just enjoying the view.” She arched upward to take his mouth again, her hands moving over his skin. She tugged at the button on his jeans and slid her hand inside, remembering how it had felt when he’d done the same to her in the hall. Her fingers encountered cotton and hot, hard flesh.

  His groan, muffled inside her mouth, sent a shiver through her. It seemed as if they’d been at this for hours and now neither one of them wanted to risk another interruption. Clothes came off. The golden lamplight hid a lot of flaws, but it wouldn’t totally hide the scars.

  And it didn’t. Matthew traced the longest one, the ugliest one, from side to side across her belly but said nothing about it.

  He bent back to kissing her as his hand moved between her legs. His cock was hard against her thigh, and when she stroked it, his hips pushed forward in that involuntary way most men seemed to have. She loved that helpless thrust, as though they couldn’t stop themselves from fucking into her fist.

  “Shit,” he said under his breath, and sat up to look down at her. “I don’t have anything.”

  Stella had been riding a lovely wave of arousal, but now she blinked. At least he was assuming she’d want him to use something. “Um...let me check my bag.”

  She rolled to hook it with her finger and pull it toward her. She found the small plastic zipper case she used to store feminine supplies, not sure if she’d actually stuck a condom or two in there or if she was remembering wrong. This wasn’t the purse she usually took on her turnarounds.

  Matthew looked sheepish when he took it from her. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  She thought of the way he’d tossed back his drinks and the way he’d looked her over, up and down. He’d hit on her pretty hard in the bar. He’d invited her back to his apartment. She had a hard time believing he had no idea this was where things were going to go. Then again, he’d been so hesitant to make a move when they finally got here. And she hadn’t intended to go home with anyone on this trip either. Strange shit happened all the time when sex got involved, and she of all people should know that.

  “Don’t worry about it.” On her back but propped on her elbows, she let her toes slide up his thigh to his belly. “We’re good.”

  He fumbled with the condom wrapper, ducking his head in a way she found incredibly endearing. When it looked as though he might also falter putting it on, though, she pushed up onto her knees to take it from him. “Let me.”

  She sheathed him and looked up to find him watching her with an expression she couldn’t read. His cock, nicely thick and full in her hand, bobbed. She kissed his mouth and nipped at his chin. Nuzzled his ear. Stella pushed him gently until he lay back, and she straddled him with his cock in her hand. Only his fingers moved, squeezing her hips gently.

  She loved the look in their eyes when she put them inside her for the first time. Matthew’s eyes fluttered closed as his back arched a bit. He bit his bottom lip too, but while all of those things were enough to melt her butter, none were what made her gasp aloud. She did that when he put his arms over his head, one hand gripping the other wrist.

  Every. Button. Pushed.

  She settled onto his cock until he filled her, all the way. When she leaned forward, she could kiss him and rub her clit against his muscled belly with every rocking thrust. She gripped his shoulders, letting her nails dig in the tiniest amount. He thrust a little harder at that, his teeth denting his lip, eyes closed, brow furrowed. But not in pain. No, not that.

  She moved on him, slow and then a little faster. She’d been with men who tried to control everything about this. The pace, the rhythm, the depth of the thrusts. That could be fun, though usually it was so much harder for her to come that way she ended up giving up and just enjoying the fucking for what it was, finding her own pleasure later with her hand and her memories. But this...oh, this was so much sweeter. So much sexier. She rolled her hips, moving on his cock, her cunt slick and hot and her clit tight and aching with lust. Every time she rubbed herself against his belly, the pleasure spiked until she shuddered with it.

  Mouth open, eyes closed, fingers digging deep into his skin, so hard it had to hurt him but he didn’t tell her to stop. Her hair fell in her face, sticking to her skin with the sweat that came from really great fucking. Everything became pleasure; nothing else mattered. All she wanted to do was move with it. All she could do was let it overtake her.

  She was kissing him when she came. Matthew breathed in her cry. His hands went around her, unexpected but welcome. His fingers pressed a line of demand down her spine until he settled again on her hips to move her a little faster. A little harder. He fucked into her so hard it hurt, but it was a small pain and overshadowed by the pleasure. She moved a hand from his shoulder and pressed it flat over his racing, pounding heart. He came with a shudder and a low shout.

  With a low sigh of satisfaction, Stella leaned to press her face against the side of his neck for a moment while she timed the slowing pulse of both their hearts. He softened slowly inside her, which was nice because he didn’t slip out right away. She got to spend a few precious seconds snuggled up against him before she reached between them to keep the condom in place as she rolled onto her back.

  Stella yawned with the back of her hand against her mouth. She was sleepy now, though it couldn’t be much past ten or eleven. She wasn’t looking forward to heading back out into the icy weather and finding a hotel room.

  Matthew went into the bathroom. The toilet flushed. He got back into bed and switched off the light, which was enough to make her at least shift in the covers even though she hadn’t quite managed to rouse herself enough to move.

  She hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, so blinked rapidly to focus on him. “I should get going.”

  He was silent for a heartbeat. “Oh. If you want to?”

  There’d been many awkward moments in her life, but the men she picked up in her turnarounds generally knew what was what. But this was not a usual turnaround.

  “Sorry,” Matthew said before she could say anything. “It’s just...I haven’t, um... Well, I don’t usually do this. Haven’t done this, I mean.”

  He paused, as if he was waiting for her to say the same thing,