Flying Read online

  “Yes. You have,” she said, then turned toward him. “Look. I’m not interested in swooping in on your life and wreaking havoc, okay? We all have our own shit to shovel. I understand how you’d want to be careful with your girls. I’m not so clear on why you’re still tied to the ex-wife so that you have to act like you’re cheating on her.”

  He looked startled at that. Then a flush of guilt. Maybe he’d cheated on his wife, maybe that was why she’d asked him for a divorce. Stella wasn’t about to get into it.

  “I don’t need to rub her nose in anything. And she would check the bill to see if I was texting strange numbers. She’s done it before. And then she freaks out. I just don’t need the hassle. That’s all.”

  Stella sighed and rubbed at the swelling headache pressing behind her eyes. “I think you should take me back to the airport. I’ll grab a hotel room—”

  “No!” Matthew reached for her. “Shit, Stella. Don’t do that. Can’t I make it up to you? I feel like shit. Really.”

  She eyed him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Matthew hadn’t yet impressed her as the sort of guy who’d run roughshod over her in pursuit of what he wanted, but he did have that charm she’d found so many men knew they could use to get their own way.

  It was against her better judgment, but she smiled a little. “You’re going to have to work for it.”

  “Okay. I can do that.” Matthew grinned.

  “Work hard. Realllllly hard.”

  Matthew sat up straight, giving her a firm nod. “As hard as I have to. In fact, I’m kind of semihard right now.”

  “Bad. You’re very bad, you know that?” Stella shook her head.

  Matthew leaned in to offer his mouth for a kiss she didn’t give him right away. “Yeah. I know.”

  Stella let him kiss her.

  * * *

  “I’m stuffed.” With a groan, Stella dropped onto Matthew’s couch. “I don’t know where you put all that food. Do you have a hollow leg, or what?”

  He’d taken her to the movies, then shopping and to the Skydeck in Willis Tower. Then finally out to dinner. It had been a whirlwind of a day, cram-packed with all the sorts of touristy things she imagined he thought she wanted to do, and they’d been fun. But what she really wanted was to spend time with him. Maybe he was trying to impress her. Maybe he was trying to fend off any more possible awkwardness by keeping them both busy until they collapsed.

  At least Caroline had left him alone. Mostly. A couple of bland texts Stella hadn’t asked to see, but Matthew had felt compelled to share with her.

  She eyed him now as he poured himself a nice measure of whiskey.

  “You want?” Matthew held up his glass.

  “No, thanks.”

  “I have wine.”

  “I couldn’t,” Stella said. “I’ll explode. Seriously.”

  Matthew, glass in hand, joined her on the couch in a swift, graceful motion, so smooth the liquor didn’t even slosh. “I don’t want you to explode.”

  Watching his gaze light up and travel over her, Stella felt an answering pull of heat. After the debacle at the Riverwalk and the discussion in the car, he’d been lovely to her all day. Holding her hand. Nuzzling her occasionally. Pulling her close for random hugs. But he hadn’t looked at her like this until just now, and it was what she’d been waiting for since he’d pushed her up against the car in the parking garage and plundered her mouth.

  When she kissed him, she tasted whiskey. Smoky. It reminded her of fall. When she sucked his tongue gently, Matthew gave a soft moan. Stella moved onto his lap, taking his face in her hands to kiss him harder.

  “Gonna spill your whiskey,” she mouthed against his lips. “You better drink it.”

  Matthew moved the glass between them, eyeing her over the rim. Watching his tongue swipe his mouth, Stella shifted to press herself against him. Her clit pulsed when he drank and swallowed; he offered her the glass and she sipped. Shuddered at the burn.

  Matthew laughed and drained the glass, then reached behind him to put it on the sofa table. His hands found her hips. His lips, her lips. The kiss deepened, tongues searching. He put a hand on the small of her back to press her to him, and in minutes they were both grinding against each other.

  Stella broke the kiss with a gasp. “Matthew...”

  “Yes.” He didn’t let her say another word, capturing all her sighs with his mouth and breathing them back into her. He rocked his hardness against her, and it felt so good Stella forgot what she meant to say, if anything.

  Maybe she just liked the taste of his name.

  Somehow she got a hand between them and undid his belt, his zipper and button, to free him. The head of his cock pushed free of the denim and his briefs, and she pressed her palm to its heat. His hands had moved beneath her dress, his thumb finding her clit through the soft fabric of her leggings. He stroked her once, twice, until she shuddered.

  “Feels good,” she whispered.

  He looked into her eyes. “I want to make you feel good. I want to watch you come.”

  “I,” Stella said, sitting upright, “would love for you to watch me come.”

  “I can feel your heat. And right here...” He stroked her clit again. “You’re hard. I can feel it. Fuck, that turns me on.”

  Her muscles leaped as he touched her. Stella let her head fall back for a second with a moan. “That feels so good. Just like that.”

  Stroke. Stroke. Back and forth, the pressure almost so light it shouldn’t even have registered, yet drove her crazy for just that reason. Stella wanted to writhe from it, to whimper. She kept herself still only so she didn’t wiggle herself right off his lap, but she curled her fingers in the front of his shirt.

  “You like that.”

  She laughed breathlessly and leaned in to kiss him. “Yes. I like that.”

  She wanted to ask him to put his hands inside her panties, sink his fingers deep inside her, but she didn’t move. Matthew opened his mouth, his tongue delicately stroking hers. His thumb kept up the slow, steady and frustratingly light pressure while the pleasure built up and up inside her until Stella let her head drop to his shoulder. Trembling, she strained toward climax, every muscle tight.

  He stopped.

  Stella let out a groan but didn’t move. It would take so little to send her over the edge right now, but she felt helpless to even shift her hips and press herself against him. All she could do was concentrate on that flickering flame of desire between her legs.

  Slowly, he swiped his thumb across her clit again. His other hand gripped her ass, kneading. Pressing her against him. Then he slid his hand up her back to anchor it in the hair at the base of her skull, fingers tangling, pulling her head back. Matthew kissed her throat, baring his teeth against her skin. Biting gently.

  “Oh,” she breathed. And again, “Oh, oh...”

  “Come for me,” Matthew said. “I want you to come for me.”

  She did. Up, up and over. Sometimes she came hard like falling into an abyss, but this time her orgasm lifted her. Flying. She rode the waves of pleasure in silence but for the tortured gasp of her breathing, and when it was over she collapsed against him.

  Matthew stroked his hands down her back, then held her close. They stayed that way for a minute or so. Stella forced her eyes to open, made herself sit up, though she could’ve stayed like that forever.

  “Wow,” she said.

  Matthew grinned. “Good?”

  “Um, yeah.” She wriggled a little, putting a hand between them to cup his hard cock. Every part of her felt loose and sated, but there was more to come. Literally, she hoped.

  Matthew’s eyes went heavy-lidded at her caress, but he shifted her off his lap, then urged her onto her knees facing the back of the sofa. He bent over her back, arms along hers, to press her hands to the sofa