Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Clutching the towel tighter, Matty hurried down the hall, opening the door to her room and slipping inside before Brandon or any of his mates could see her. Any knock at the front door could mean more people turning up, and the thought of that was nothing short of grim.
She quietly closed the door behind her. When she turned, the last thing she expected to see was Sloan, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her with an amused look on her face.
The towel slipped an inch before Matty caught it, clutching it more from shock than modesty.
“Sloan!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where’s Gloria?”
“She’s having coffee,” Sloan answered.
Matty froze for a second too long, heart thudding. Sloan was in her room, on her bed, looking far too at ease. Heat rolled through Matty like she’d been waiting for this.
“Okay,” Matty said softly, like she was afraid a louder voice would break the moment. “Is this...about last night?”
Sloan stood up, her head tilting slightly as she moved closer to Matty. “Did you?” she asked, and Matty knew exactly what she meant. It was all she could think about.
“No.” Matty swallowed. “You suggested not to...” The words thinned into a whisper. “So I didn’t.”
Sloan’s gaze held hers as she nodded slowly.
“Last night...” Sloan began, and her eyes drifted towards the small window and the slant of rooftop beyond it. “I didn’t think sleeping with each other like that would’ve have been a good idea.”
“Did it feel like a bad idea when you kissed me?” Matty asked, voice low. The towel was still clutched to her chest, but she had stopped shrinking behind it.
Sloan’s eyes flicked back to her. “No. I don’t regret kissing you.” She paused, then quieter. “I regret what I did after. Trying to turn it into something controlled. Trying to keep you there, in that state, because it felt safer than letting the night become what it might have become.”
Matty frowned. “You mean telling me not to come?”
“Yes.” Sloan’s mouth tightened. “That.”
“Why?”
“Because the truth is, I wanted you too much.” Sloan took another step closer, then stopped herself. “And because I was tired, and we’d been drinking, and then everything with Mum… It was all wrong.”
Matty's grip on the towel shifted. "So, you're here to tell me you shouldn't have pushed me like that, or you're here to tell me you're scared of where this is going?"
Sloan held her gaze. The amused look was gone now. “Both,” she admitted. “I should not have tried to control your orgasm just because I did not trust the circumstances. And yes, I am scared of us getting this wrong.”
Matty shook her head, opened a drawer and pulled out clean underwear. “You need to start making sense,” she said, dropping the towel.
Sloan’s gaze stayed on Matty, steady and unreadable. “These past few years, I’ve not exactly had the time or energy for anything serious,” she said. “What I have had, has been...confined.”
Matty stepped into her knickers, then reached for her bra. “Confined how?”
Sloan hesitated, a thoughtful look flashing across her face before she finally said, “There is a club I go to. Private. Discreet. Somewhere people go when they want certain things, without the rest of life getting tangled up in them.”
“A club?”
Sloan nodded slowly. “Yes, where like-minded people might find…interest in one another.”
Matty paused, both hands behind her back on the clasp. “A sex club?”
Sloan nodded again. “Yes.”
Matty pulled on her bra straps then settled them in place. “Right.”
“It is not as sordid as that sounds,” Sloan said, more sharply than she meant to.
“Or perhaps it is, depending on your view. But that is not the point.” She drew a breath.
“The point being, is that it is separate. Self-contained. No awkward mornings. No mothers in the next room. No one mattering more than they should.”
Matty looked at her properly then. “And I do? Matter more than I should?”
Sloan straightened. “Yes,” she said. “And that unsettles me.”
Matty frowned. “That I matter?”
“That you matter enough for me to care how this starts,” Sloan said. “And how it goes after.”
Matty’s mouth twitched. “You do realise most people would just call that overthinking.”
“Most people are welcome to conduct themselves however they like,” Sloan replied. “I am simply saying I do not want our first intimate moments together to be squeezed into whatever scraps of time we can steal between my mother, your flatmates, and a hangover.”
Matty smiled then, slow and impossible to miss. “That sounded very much like planning ahead.”
Sloan exhaled. “I am told it is one of my more persistent flaws, but also, one of my best qualities.” She caught sight of the clock on the bedside table and swore softly. “We need to get back. I have given my mother entirely too much unsupervised time.”
Matty followed her gaze. “How bad are we talking?”
“With Gloria, there is always scope for innovation.”
Matty considered Gloria, alone in the café, drinking coffee, probably talking to more people than she had in weeks, and more than likely having the time of her life.
“Maybe she’s enjoying it,” Matty said in an attempt to remove the anxiety fluxing through Sloan’s every move.
Still, Sloan looked genuinely uneasy.
Matty crossed the space between them and pressed a kiss to Sloan’s mouth—unhurried, warm, and far gentler than the urgency still thrumming through her body.
It was not about starting something. It was about letting Sloan know she had heard her.
When she stepped back, Sloan’s eyes were darker than before.
“I’ll be five minutes,” Matty said, reaching for her trousers.