Chapter 19.3
Something was scratching my face, dragging me from my slumber. I fought the tendrils of consciousness trying to coax me from my dreams. There was something soft amidst the scratchiness. My brain slowing started waking up. Then I shrieked, instinctively smacking at the scratchiness. Didn’t spiders creep into your mouth when you slept? An urban myth, maybe, but I wasn’t taking the chance. A low grunt came from above me. Spiders didn’t grunt, unless it was some new mutated species that—I opened my eyes, squinting in confusion. Why were the lights on?
“Matt.” I blinked the last hold of sleep away and flung my arms around his neck, yanking him into my sleep-warmed body. His face scratched my neck. The hell? I pulled back against the pillows and peered at him.
“You have a beard,” I said in disbelief.
Matt grimaced and rubbed his cheeks. “I haven’t had time to shave the past couple of days, poppet. It’s just a bit of stubble.”
I ran my hand over his stubble-covered cheeks with wide eyes. He grinned at me. Matt with stubble was a whole new level of sexiness, lending a rakish air to his unbelievably handsome face. Matt with stubble was extremely hot.
“Did you just get home, hon?” I asked, stroking his face, getting used to this new texture. The Matt I knew, my Matt, was clean-shaven. Polished to perfection. This Matt was rugged, kind of wild…hot.
“The car dropped me off fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake you.” He leaned in to press a kiss to my lips. I giggled at the raspiness against my skin. “But I couldn’t help myself. You looked so inviting, sprawled naked on my bed. Why do you always kick the covers off?” he asked, while kissing along my cheek and venturing down my neck. I giggled and tried to squirm away from his bristles. Matt nuzzled his face in my neck, and I squirmed harder, grabbing his face and trying to hold him off. He laughed at my antics.
“I’ve missed you, poppet.”
“I’ve missed you too, knight,” I replied, and the desire on his face softened at my rarely voiced title for him. I cupped his face and offered my lips for his ravishment, and he wasted no time in doing so. It was different. Stubble kisses were different, but still made my skin tingle.
“Mmm,” He groaned moments later, pulling away slowly. “I’m going to get a shower, shave this mess off my face, then join you in bed.”
I chewed my lower lip. “Do you have to shave?”
He arched an eyebrow at me and I blushed.
“It’s just that, it feels…different,” I explained with a heated face.
Matt’s mouth quirked up at the corners.
“And I doubt I’ll have the chance at—arghahaha.” I squealed as he rubbed his jaw line over my shoulders, then on to my boobs, then my stomach. I got a good grip of his hair and tugged his head upwards before he could venture lower. I wasn’t that used to his facial hair.
Matt winked at me, then slid off the bed as I started pulling the covers back over me.
“I won’t be long, poppet. Don’t fall asleep,” he warned and headed for the ensuite.
Fall asleep? He couldn’t be serious. I hadn’t seen him in the flesh for ten days. I sat up against the numerous pillows, feeling like a fan who was about to be granted an audience with her favourite idol. The dry mouth, sweaty palms, racing heart. Yep, I was in fan mode. I started undoing the braid my hair was in, fluffing my curls out and thankful I had washed it earlier that night. A quick glance at the alarm clock confirmed it was a little before midnight. I chewed my lips, trying to plump them up and rubbed my eyes in case I had sleep goo in them. A necessary check to make sure my breath was fresh and I was ready.
Ready and waiting.
When Matt walked back into the bedroom, he caught me trying out various sexy poses on the bed.
“What are you doing?” he teased, towel precariously low on his hips.
“Getting ready for a long overdue shag,” I explained, eyeing the firmness of his chest and the dark line of hair running down his muscled abdomen, disappearing under the towel. “I am going to break you, Mr Matthew Bradley.” My warning had him licking his lips as he approached his huge bed.
“Are you now?” he drawled, fingering the spot where his towel was tucked in.
“Mhmm,” I confirmed, deciding on a sideways pose with the satin sheets covering the important bits but still showing an enticing amount of my bare dark skin. Matt’s gaze lingered on my bare skin while I ate him up with my eyes.
He licked his lips. “That sounds like a challenge to me. Is that what you’re doing, poppet?” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper. “Are you challenging me?”
I was feeling that stubble look on him and would need to take a picture with my phone once we were done.
“Yes,” I whispered back. “I am.”
Matt smiled. It was the smile I had dubbed ‘panty soaker’. Good thing I wasn’t wearing any at the moment.
“Hmm, you talk a big talk, but you and I both know I’ll have you blushing within five minutes,” he said in that lust-clogged voice of his.
I arched one eyebrow at him, gaze dropping, then slowly traced my lower lip with the tip of my tongue. Matt inhaled sharply and let the towel fall to the floor. It was my turn to inhale sharply and the only word I could think of was exquisite. When I finally dragged my eyes back to his face, the smug smirk on his mouth confirmed I had been drooling—figuratively, of course. I wiped the corner of my mouth, just in case.
“Black girls—” I started.
“—don’t blush,” Matt finished as he got on the bed with the agility of a panther in search of its prey. “I know. Come here, let me make you not blush.”
I reached out for him, letting the covers slip. He inhaled deeply, closing the small distance between us in the blink of an eye. I gasped—part pleasure, part giggle—at the sensation of him kissing my shoulder. I was definitely enjoying the added texture on my skin. A picture was needed, I might never see him with stubble again. But, first, I needed to make good on my threat to break him…
“Give up?” I raised my head to look at Matt. He had a death grip on the headboard. His face was strained with tension, but I could see that spark of defiance in his eyes, even though the clear grey had darkened with desire. I let out an exaggerated sigh and lowered my head. With my free hand, I lightly traced the fingers over his flat stomach and I felt the muscles clench beneath my touch as he let out a breathless moan. My other hand was busy, as was my mouth. I could taste he was getting close, and I moaned around his hardness which caused him to jerk upwards. Slowly I dragged my lips over him, and sat back on my legs, holding on to him.
“I can keep doing this all night,” I warned with a little smile. “Concede defeat and you can go to sleep a happy man.”
“Never,” he said gruffly. My little smile became full blown. I was enjoying this battle of wills. “A Bradley”—The movement of my hand caused the hitch in his words. He took a shaky breath and grinned at me—“never admits defeat.”
“I’ve already broken you. Have the guts to accept it,” I drawled, stroking him slowly. I had been trying to get him to admit I’d broken him for the past hour. Bringing him close to orgasm, then pulling him back from the brink of complete pleasure. Matt was stubborn if not anything else. I didn’t think he would hold out this long, and we’d spent the three hours before that sexing like bunnies. Normally you wouldn’t expect someone to keep going after three hours of intense love making, but Matt was a sex machine. I swear, a few times in our relationship I had contemplated feigning sleep to get him to take a break.
“Why don’t you put your sweet mouth back where it belongs?” he cajoled, arching his hips upwards. I chuckled low in my throat.
“I broke you,” I said with confidence.
Matt caught his lower lip between his teeth and nodded once. Good. I lowered my head, tongue swirling over the tip of his hardness.
“God. Poppet, please don’t tease me anymore.” He sounded desperate and I wasn’t a cruel person. I stopped teasing him. There were only two sounds to be heard in the bedroom. The sound of me having a delightful time going down on my knight, and his hoarse cries of pleasure as his body gained release.
“I—you—uhnhrg.” He groaned incoherently as the spasms of his climax slowed down. Wiping my mouth, I went back to my sitting position and stared at him. I loved him like this. Spent and satisfied, with that almost dreamy expression on his features.
Matt rolled his head to the side, peering at me through thick lashes. “I should go away more often,” he murmured.
I shook my head in mock anger, and he crooked his index finger at me. Seconds later, I was nestled in the curve of his arm, cheek pressed against his heaving chest. We stayed silent, cocooned in each other’s arms and basking in the glow of mutual fulfilment. With the back of his hand he stroked along my jaw; once, twice, then sank his hand into my hair with an audible sound of contentment.
“Poppet.”
“Mhmm.” I pressed a kiss to his warm flesh and inhaled deeply. There was something about the way he smelt, his scent triggered something inside me, something that turned me into a besotted fool.
“What time are you due in the studio?” he asked, fingers massaging my scalp.
I buried my face in his chest. “I should be in for around seven-ish.”
“It’s gone four am. Why don’t you go in later? I’m not in the office today, and we could have a lazy morning.”
As enticing as that sounded I had work. “I can’t, Matt. Things are manic at the studio, and I’m already down a week because I have to go home for Thanksgiving.”
“We have to go for Thanksgiving,” Matt corrected. “Have you decided what day you want us to fly out? I need to let my pilot know.”
I flicked my tongue over his taut nipple and his hand tightened in my curls. I did it again, and Matt let out a low chuckle that had me glancing up at him.
“What?” he drawled.
“You’re sexy with a beard.”
Matt arched an eyebrow at me. “It’s stubble and what are you trying to imply? That I’m unsexy without one?”
I rested my chin on his chest and blinked a few times. “No, a different kind of sexy.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “It’s going, poppet. Don’t try giving me those puppy dog eyes. Now, when do you want us to fly out?”
I thought about it for a moment. “This Saturday?”
Matt grimaced. “Nathan’s and Bella’s engagement party. They’ll never forgive me if we fail to attend.”
I grimaced, too. “Sunday, then. We leave on the 23rd and come back on the 29th. Do those dates work for you?”
He gave me a quick nod of his head. “I’ll sort it later today. Hannah and Stuart own a condo in Central Park West. They hate staying in hotels when they travel to the States with the twins. Do you want us to stay there or at a hotel—”
“I’ll be expected to stay at Aunt Cleo’s,” I advised with reticence, forget the fact his sister owned a place in the upscale Central Park West area. Matt’s eyebrows shot up, and I tried to smile at him. It was more a sickly sort of pout. I continued. “I don’t have my apartment back home anymore, and she’ll expect me to stay with them.”
Matt rubbed his temple while exhaling slowly. “I see. You have told your family I’ll be accompanying you?”
I avoided his wary gaze.
Matt’s eyes widened. “Madison. Have you not told them?”
I sat up, clutching the covers to my chest. “I was thinking of it being a surprise…” My voice trailed off weakly as Matt’s stubble-covered jaw tightened. He did not look happy. I sighed and twisted over to grab my cell from where I’d left it on the bedside table. “I’ll call Aunt Cleo. It’s around eleven thirty pm there. Someone should still be awake.”
“Good,” Matt said in exasperation. He shot me a disappointed look and slid off the bed. He picked up his discarded towel and wrapped it around his trim waist. “I’m going to get something to drink. Would you like anything, Madison?”
I shook my head, trying not to focus on the substitution of my Christian name for his usual “poppet”. Matt was mad, and he had reason to be. It had been weeks since the invitation to accompany me home had been extended to him in my quest to show the man I loved that I actually did love him. Weeks of me finding a reason to avoid notifying my aunt that I would be bringing company. Weeks of me visualizing the many ways things could go terribly wrong.
With trembling fingers I tapped the screen and made the call. Oh, thank you, Jesus. Answering machine. Deliberating over the wisdom of leaving the message took half a second. I might be a coward, but it was better to let her assimilate the fact via message I was bringing my decade older, white boyfriend home for Thanksgiving. Definitely better.
I hung up the call, put my phone on the bedside table and slumped against the pillows, head covered by my arms as I groaned in frustration. Matt found me in that position fifteen minutes later.
“I take it the news didn’t go over well,” he mused, shutting the bedroom door with his foot while balancing a tray of orange juice and croissants.
I was peeking at him from under my arms as he came over to the bed and placed the tray next to me.
“It’s fine,” I mumbled. “I left a message.”
“A message?” he asked, and a quick check confirmed the twin eyebrows of doom were lowered.
“I guess they must be sleeping,” I said, uncovering my face and smiling at him. “Are those croissants for me?”
Matt nodded.
“The orange juice, too?”
He nodded. “To replenish the energy you lavished upon me.”
I grinned and reached over for the orange juice. “What are you going to do with your day off, hon?”
Matt got back in bed, minding the tray with a cautious eye. He was a bit undecided when it came to eating in bed, but he let me do so without complaint.
“Work,” he said blandly.
I frowned, knowing he would be doing exactly that and not liking the thought. Matt took extremely good care of himself. The man had a physique that would make a Greek warrior weep with envy. He ate well and worked out.
But he worked hard, and it was a stressful job he had. Being co-president of his family’s empire was consuming. Constant and consuming. Maintaining their wealth and power was a mantle that had been passed to him and Adam from the hands of their father and, of course, Grumps.
He worked hard and it worried me immensely. Stressed out business tycoons had strokes all the time, even if he was only thirty-seven.
“No, you’re not.” I put the juice back down and scowled at him.
Matt arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m not?”
I shook my head vehemently, tangled curls whipping about my face. Matt reached out to finger my hair.
“You work too hard, Matt.”
“And you don’t?” he shot back with a teasing glint in his piercing eyes.
“It’s different,” I said quietly, and he snorted under his breath. I could already see it: Matt on some hospital bed, hooked up to machines. “I don’t want you to have a stroke,” I blurted out, then looked away immediately. A few charged seconds followed my outburst before Matt started chuckling. I twisted my head back to glare at him.
“It’s not funny.”
He laughed harder.
“Stop laughing at me. I’m worried about you and all you can do is laugh. You’re so immature.”
He fell back against the pillows, clutching his washboard stomach, and his deep laughter continued to fill the room, while I steadied the tray to avoid a mess. After another five minutes of him laughing his ass off and me fuming, he took a few deep breaths and rubbed his eyes.
“Oh, poppet. I do love you so,” he choked out. “I’m not going to have a stroke.”
I gave him a sceptical stare and his mouth quivered.
“I promise not to have a stroke for at least twenty years,” he assured me with a wink. “By then, you’ll probably be glad to get rid of me.”
I huffed at him, secretly pleased he thought we would be together in twenty years and, at the same time, worried he was working himself into an early grave. I couldn’t imagine my life without my crazy gazillionaire.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I warned, before picking up a croissant and nibbling the edge. Matt’s eyes zoned in on my lips, and I knew from the gleam in them he was thinking naughty things.
He rubbed his chin, then rubbed it a bit harder with an irritated expression on his features. My new, rugged Matt wouldn’t last the day. I was certain the moment I left for work he would shave it off.
“Are we okay?” he asked abruptly.
I stopped chewing and swallowed, unsure of what he was referring to. Matt saw the confusion on my face and gave me a twisted smile.
“We’ve not discussed last Tuesday,” he said.
The Skype tiff. I shrugged my shoulders, forcing a lightness to my voice that I didn’t feel. “We’re fine, Matt. Forget about it.”
Matt scrutinized my face for a full minute. It felt like the longest minute of my life. I resented when he did this. Resented it immensely because he always seemed to figure out exactly how I felt. I couldn’t win against this calculating stare of his. If I broke the shared gaze, he would know something was up. If I held his gaze, like I was doing now, he would still know something was up.
I couldn’t win.
“Don’t do that,” he said softly. “No secrets. Remember? Let’s clear the air over what happened.”
Damned mind reader. I sighed and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“Honestly?”
Matt nodded at my question.
I pulled my knees up and rested my arms over them. “I was annoyed, Matt. Really annoyed but, like I told you, if you don’t want me speaking to Dougie,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “who, by the way, is a nice person, I won’t do it.”
“I’m glad we’re now in agreement,” he said with a forgiving smile.
My blood started to boil. This was why I had pushed our heated argument to the back of my mind. Now he was looking at me like that. Like some great lord who had granted clemency to a misbehaving subject.
“Are you?” I asked casually. “You’re glad?”
Matt nodded slowly, eyes searching my face. He chewed his lower lip and sat up a bit straighter. Obviously he’d picked up on the simmering vibes I was giving off, and he was getting ready, going into battle mode. He was an ace at reading me.
“Poppet,” he began, but I held a hand up, silencing him.
“Matt.” I took a deep breath. “Have you realized that bar Nathan and Bella, none of your friends truly have any interest in getting to know me?”
He opened his mouth to dispute my statement and my hand went up for the second time. Surprisingly, he kept quiet. Wow. Twice in a row? I was on a lucky roll here.
“I mean, when you’re with me, they are welcoming but, once I’m on my own, they turn away after a while, move off to other groups.” I sighed. “I know they’re not deliberately trying to be awkward, at least I hope not. It’s just…I know they believe they have nothing in common with me, and I don’t blame them because it’s painfully true. I’m nowhere near the financial bracket of the people you introduce me to. I didn’t attend the same schools, I’m not a member of the private clubs you all frequent, I don’t work in the same field as the majority of your friends and associates, I don’t indulge in the same leisure activities you do…I’m…they see me as your current girlfriend who probably won’t be around in a year’s time. Why would they want to get to know me? It would be a waste of their time.” I peered at him with a brave smile on my face. “Dougie’s not like that. He’s fun to talk to. I don’t feel as if I have to put on airs and graces with him—”
“I’ve never expected you to be anything but yourself,” Matt said.
“I know, Matt, I know.” My smile wavered. “But the expectation is there.”
Matt picked up the tray, half turning his body so he could place it on the floor. When he faced me, it was with a conflicted face as he admitted, “I’m jealous. Bloody hell. I’m jealous of any man who holds your attention other than myself. I can’t help it, and I won’t apologize for it. You’re mine and mine alone; no other man will touch you like I do.” Those intense grey eyes of his were filled with staunch determination as he spoke, stating his fervent claim to my person. “And I know McGregor wants to get in your knickers.”
I smacked him on the arm, hard. He winced, but gave me defiant eyes.
“Gee, thanks,” I said scornfully. “Thanks for reducing me to nothing more than a piece of ass. It couldn’t possibly be that Dougie likes me as a person. Oh, no, the only possible reason has to be him wanting to get a leg over.” At Matt’s raised eyebrows, I added, “Liam taught me that British slang.”
The man I loved ran a hand through his hair and sighed loudly. “Poppet, the night you met him, I saw the way he looked at you. I’m a man and I know exactly what he was thinking. You’re inexperienced in these things. You’re my sweet virgin, my woman,” His gaze hardened. “And I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch another man try to weasel his way into your life.”
I tried not to get upset over his words, but the inexperienced comment made me want to smack him. He popped my cherry. He was my first boyfriend, but I wasn’t some sheltered princess who had no concept of male/female interactions.
“And what does it matter the way he looked me?” I asked curtly. Matt gave me an unhappy frown. I forged on. “What matters is the way I look at him.” I slipped my hand over his and squeezed. “I can never look at another man the way I look at you, Matt. You assume he wants to get in my panties. I don’t, but that isn’t the point. I don’t give a shit which man wants me. The only man getting these panties is you. Only you.”
The frown on his face lessened, not gone completely, but not as unhappy.
I squeezed his hand again, wanting him to understand, needing him to understand. “Sometimes I feel lonely in your crowd. I get that you can’t be with me for every second, but I’m trying my hardest to establish some form of common ground with the people you socialize with and, so far, I keep drawing a blank. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite capable of fending for myself in a social setting. It’s just that…” I let go of his hand and bit my lower lip before saying out loud something I hated thinking about, but we both had to face it if we were to move forward. “I’m not one of you, and sometimes it’s difficult knowing that I don’t belong.”
Matt grabbed my hand and it was now him giving the squeeze of support. “You belong with me. Wherever we are, you’ll always belong with me. Do you see this?” He held our entwined hands up. His white skin contrasting with my dark brown, his large hand almost swallowing my dainty one. “We have to hold on to each other, poppet.”
I nodded, drowning in the heady pull of his eyes. “Okay, Matt.” I brought our entwined hands to my lips and kissed his knuckles.
Matt jerked me into his arms. “I’m going to prove to you once more that you are mine, Madison, and you do belong.” He lowered his mouth to mine, a hair’s breadth between us. “You belong to me, never forget that.”
I could feel the warmth of his breath like a sweet caress over my lips. “And you belong to me, Matt.”
He slanted his lips over mine, pushing me down to the mattress and I knew I was going to be late for work. Really late…