Chapter 15 #2
I narrow my eyes at him from behind my sunglasses, as he stares at the cream in my hand, and then up at the hand that’s currently hooked over my shoulder.
He hesitates, as though thinking better of it, but then asks, “Want me to do your back?” He smirks as though it’s exactly what I’m asking.
“It’s fine,” I say casually.
“I’d suffer through the chore if you wanted me to,” he says playfully.
“I wouldn’t want to force you.”
I laugh and he grins in return as I hold out the sunscreen and he nods for me to turn around, and I do, sitting cross-legged and pulling my hair forward over my shoulders.
“It’s a dirty task, Chloe Coleman,” he says, “but with skin this pale, it shouldn’t be ignored.”
I feel the cool sunscreen hit my back and then the light touch of his hands on my shoulders as he rubs it in, casually at first, then a little rough as his hands glide down my back and he reaches my waist. I flinch at his touch on my side.
“That tickles,” I say, a little breathlessly. His movements are slow, careful to stay precisely on my back.
His fingers run up the side of my spine and between my shoulder blades, turning into a half massage. I let out a long, deep ahhh at the pleasure of his firm fingers against my tight muscles.
“I’m going to book a massage for when we get to Mexico City,” I mutter, almost slurring.
“A massage?” he says, his fingers hooking over my shoulder, his thumbs digging into the muscles at the back of my neck.
“Oh my god that feels so good,” I say, glancing back at the house, but there is no sign of Jasper. “But you really shouldn’t.”
“Lie down and I’ll do it properly,” he says.
“I somehow don’t trust you,” I say, grinning.
“It’s just sunscreen,” he says playfully, and I lie back down, face on my towel as Matt sits beside me, moving his hands expertly up and down my back.
“You need that sunscreen everywhere?” he asks, finally reaching the small of my back, as his hands slow and he slips just the tips of his fingers under the top of my bikini bottoms.
“Everywhere that isn’t under my bathers,” I say, laughing into my beach towel.
He seems to hesitate again.
He moves to my legs and feet then, rubbing cream from the backs of my knees down my calves to my feet.
He spends a few moments on the ball of each foot, where I certainly don’t need any sunblock, and then moves his hands slowly back upward, and I squirm as they touch the backs of my knees, and then he slides his hands higher up my thighs.
“Matt, this is a bit . . . I don’t want to say . . . um . . .” I’m scrambling for words that are not erotic or sexy.
“I’m just applying sunscreen,” he says, running a hand to the top of my thigh now. He stops for a moment and moves his hand slowly over my ass and up to my lower back. I gasp at the intimacy of it. “Is that enough?”
“Um, maybe. . . . What on earth will Jasper say?” I try to be serious, but I’m also gasping into the towel.
“He’ll say yes,” says Matt. “He’s just making us sweat.”
“I mean if he comes down to the beach and sees this.”
“This?” Matt says, teasingly. “I thought we were focusing on work?”
I flush with embarrassment. On the one hand, I’m pushing him away, telling him to focus on work, and on the other hand, I’m letting him move his hands across me in a way that would get most people sent to the human resources department. I’m the definition of a mess.
I’m aware now, although my face is turned away from him, that Matt is lying right beside me, and has propped himself up on his elbow. His hand doesn’t move from my lower back, and I find myself sinking into the possessive, protective feeling of it.
“It’s so chill to be with you, away from all the fucking paps and the press.”
“Only the sharks and crabs to bother you,” I say.
His hand moves up to my shoulders and then back down to my lower back, slowly circling as he finds my ass again.
“For the love of god.”
“Yes?” he says, laughing. “I can’t help it. It’s such a great ass.”
“Matt,” I say, weakly.
“Also, you can never be too sun safe,” he says.
And then his hand reaches between the tops of my thighs and stills, his finger just millimeters from touching the edge of my bathers. “Matt,” I scold into the towel.
I freeze. I don’t move a muscle.
If he moves it just a breath higher, he will be dangerously close to touching me in a way that cannot be explained by sunscreen application.
“Want me to stop?” he says into my ear as his fingers squeeze my thigh, slick with the oily cream.
I take a long pause. Maybe the longest pause ever.
“No,” I say back to him quietly.
“Good, because it’s impossible,” he says, leaning in toward me, his mouth close to that sensitive spot behind my ear. “I’m trying to focus on work, but you’re so touchable.”
“You’re too much, Matt,” I say, hopelessly losing the battle between my head and my burning fucking desire. He squeezes my thigh again, moving his hand in and out, slowly.
“Okay,” he says, moving his fingers higher so I can feel them on the seam at the edge of my bikini now. “Although . . .”
“What?”
“I’m not sure I can focus on work with you next to me. Looking like that.”
“We’re not doing this,” I say, glad that he cannot see the tortured smile, my teeth clamped on my lip.
“Touching is allowed, right?” he says, almost pleadingly.
“Non-sexy touching,” I say.
“So many complicated rules.”
“Just like racing.”
“I better be fast, then,” he says, laughing.
He drags his fingers up along the edge seam of my swimmers and out from between my thighs, and then slides them down again. “Just massaging,” he says, as his finger slips easily underneath the fabric of my bikini bottoms. I feel a coil tightening in my stomach, and fight hard not to move.
I grip the towel with my fingers as he moves very close to sliding a finger inside me. But he never quite gets close enough, stroking the softness in the crease of my thigh. It is dizzying, and just this one small movement brings so much pleasure I feel like I might explode.
I feel his finger suddenly slip under my bathers, and it emerges slick. Matt moans into my ear, as he feels it too.
“I didn’t even touch you properly yet,” he says.
“You’re fired as a masseur,” I reply, rolling over. I’m under him now, grabbing at his hand before he moves it back between my legs.
“Don’t you want a happy ending?” he says, interlocking our fingers and pinning my hand to the side of my head on the towel.
“Of course I do,” I say, staring hard into his eyes, making sure he understands all the layers of meaning I’m sending him. “But it will never be happy.”
“I can give you a happy ending, Chloe,” he says.
“Can you?” I reply, half in earnest and half testing these dangerous waters. Matt’s eyes darken, and I can tell he’s grappling with his desire and the agreement we’ve made.
“Can you trust me again?”
“Not really.” Although, as I say it, I realize that somehow, I do. “Maybe.”
“I want to make you happy, Chloe. That’s all I want.”
His one hand is still laced in mine, waiting for me to say the word.
It’s a sink-or-swim moment. Scary and exhilarating all at once.
“Okay.” I laugh, then bite my lip. “Then do it.”
He lights up at this olive branch, this slightly open door I’m trying not to overthink. Before sliding his hand under the band of my bikini again, he leans in and kisses me softly on the side of my neck.
“How happy?” he says, as he inches closer, teasingly.
“Fireworks,” I say. “Nothing less.”
His hot breath makes my skin prickle, and I feel his mouth move into a grin against my neck. Then, in one move, his finger glides across me, and a moan escapes my mouth, my eyes clamping shut as pleasure blooms through me.
“Well, I’m happy,” he says.
“That’s not the job, buddy,” I say, yelping with pleasure as he moves gently across my clit, rubbing slowly in small circles, and I arch my hips up higher so he can get better access.
“Happy yet?” he asks, as he pulls back onto his elbow and watches my body move against his fingers.
“Frustrated,” I say breathlessly.
Matt leans forward, and through the fabric of my bikini top, he puts his mouth over my nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure, my back arching.
When I open my eyes, I see he looks delighted with himself, and he does it again, the pleasure almost too much for me to take. And so, I settle back into the groove of the sand, the breeze against my hot skin, and let go.
“Just a little longer and this will all be over, Chloe,” he says, kissing my neck.
“Please,” I beg him now, opening my eyes to catch him looking at me with such desire, and yet such tenderness. I have to squeeze them quickly shut again in case I start thinking about him, about this moment, about how much I’ve longed for it.
Heat pools between my legs, and finally, the pleasure is too much and I grab Matt’s neck and pull him against me and come against his fingers in wave after wave, my heart racing, my head thrown back, my free hand grabbing at the sand for purchase.
“God, that was . . . amazing,” I moan, as the waves begin to ease.
“You’re so perfect,” he replies. “I could watch you forever, Chloe.”
“Stop it,” I say, blushing. I come back to my body while Matt kisses me once on the lips, and shakes his head in disbelief.
He has a smug look on his face as he pulls his hand free again, but this time, he moves it to his own crotch. I glance down at the huge erection he’s trying awkwardly to contain in his swim shorts, and I bite my lip.
“Sorry, but you were too hot,” he concedes, burrowing his face into my neck, inhaling me. “And you smell so good. Chloe, I want to do that for you whenever you’ll let me.”
“I want to do that for you too,” I say, allowing him to lie against me for a few minutes, as I catch my breath. “I wish . . . I mean, I really really wish—”
“Chloe! Matt! Where are you?” Jasper’s raspy voice calls out from inside the house. “Vacation is over. Get your asses inside. I think I got some ideas.”
“Coming!” I quickly shout.
“Again?” says Matt, eyeing me up as I stand and brush the sand off my thighs.
I grin at him as reality bites, and then I grimace. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“If you say so,” he says, raising his hands. “But I’m glad it happened. I can’t resist you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I say, standing up, legs weak. God, how I want to be back on that towel, letting him absolutely ravish me from here to forever.
“I’m glad it happened too, and I selfishly want more,” I confess to him, which makes his eyes sparkle with mischief. I shake my head, irritated, amused, wanting to smack him in the mouth.
Instead, I lean in and kiss him hard. “Come on. We have a job to do.”