12. Matt #2
“That’s not a very nice way to speak to your subordinate,” I tease her, my gaze falling to the open buttons of her top.
She clears her throat, tearing my attention to her eyes, where I find her pupils blown and lids hooded. “Good night.”
Without another word, she storms past me to the elevators, and I follow her every step of the way. She angrily fingers the elevator button, crosses her arms, and taps her slipper on the tiled floor.
“Mind if I ride up with you?” I ask quietly, staring straight ahead at the metal doors. “Same floor.”
“I know,” she says snarkily. “And fine. But stay on your side.”
“Fine.” I mimic her tone, and her cheeks warm once again.
It feels like it takes forever until a chime sounds and the light above the elevator glows, the doors finally opening. She lets out a heavy breath, powerfully striding forward and leading the way inside.
“Are you mad? You seem mad,” I tell her as I follow her in, unable to keep my eyes from drooling over her body.
My God, she is the sexiest, most beautiful, badass woman I’ve ever seen.
“Why would I be mad?” she exclaims, scanning her key card and pressing floor four aggressively over and over until the doors finally close.
Tipping my head side to side, I yawn, stretching my arms up over my head, the bag crinkling like lightning between us. “Because you feel guilty, flirting with me.”
She side-eyes me. “If I were flirting, which I’m not, why would I feel guilty?”
Finally, this is an opening for the nagging question that’s been haunting me. “Maybe because you have Kyle at home.”
She turns toward me, her face twisting with confusion. “What does Kyle have to do with anything?”
What?
“Because you have a boyfriend at home, but you’re giving me fuck-me eyes on the road.”
Her eyes close with annoyance. “First off”—she opens them, and I can’t decide if they’re brewing with anger or something else—“I have never once given you fuck-me eyes. Secondly”—the elevator doors open, but she makes no move to the hallway—“Kyle isn’t my boyfriend.”
The doors start to close, so I stop them. “I’ll walk you to your room while you finish yelling at me.”
She shakes her head, nostrils flaring and hands stiff in front of her, like she’s frozen in thought. “You’re aggravating.”
I snort. “That makes two of us, Rooney. Now tell me who Kyle is before I lose my mind. Please.”
A glimmer flashes in her eyes. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Groaning, I drag my hand down my face. “Why do you insist on toying with me? For a girl claiming to know what she wants, you have a hell of a way of showing it.”
She leads the way down the hallway, and I take the opportunity to get a good view of the girl that’s got me on a leash, practically walking me like a dog. I’d happily be her good boy, obeying every single command for a treat.
God, her body is insane. How the hell is someone even allowed to be that attractive? She’s fit but still has a thickness in her curves that is driving me wild. Her hips, the roundness of her ass … that leads into legs I want wrapped around my hips, my waist, my face …
“Go away, Matt,” she whispers, slowing to a stop outside of her door.
Slapping the key card against the reader, she pushes the unlocked door open. Stepping behind her, I place my hands on the doorframe and peer inside.
What the hell?
“Are those sticky notes?” My thought manifests out loud as my eyes travel over endless sticky notes stuck to the wall.
I’m doing great.
My arm is getting stronger.
I’m a good coach.
I am better off single and focusing on myself.
Well, that’s certainly an interesting one.
Her hand is planted on my chest before I’m able to lean forward and read another letter on the next note.
“Nope! Get out.”
The door next to hers starts to open, and suddenly, she yanks me inside her room, shoving me behind her door, out of sight of the hallway, the only sliver of light coming through the gap between the hinges.
Hastily, she brushes her hair back and takes a quick breath to calm herself. With her hand on my chest, pinning me in place, she leans casually against the door as someone rounds the corner.
“Hey, did you get your candy?” Andy asks her, stopping just outside her room.
I shift a bit, adjusting my pinched leg. Her hand clenches my shirt, her fingers digging in enough to make my abs sting, and, fuck, it makes my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Nearly half of her body is concealed by the door, out of Andy’s sight, and unfortunately for Shay, I have a terrible, horrible, delicious idea.
“Yeah, I did. Snickers and—”
“Ooh! Reese’s Cups!” he gasps, his voice sounding lower than before as he ruffles through my bag. “Oh my God. Did you get these for me?”
No! Not my Reese’s Cups! I didn’t even realize I’d dropped it in the chaos of her shoving me back here. Don’t you dare, Shay Rooney. Don’t mess with my chocolate.
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course! Both of them actually. Thought you might like a treat.”
If she’s not hesitating, neither am I.
Two can play at that game.
Reaching up, I gently wrap my hand around her wrist. If she wants to get a good feel of my abs, let me help her. Up close and personal.
Lifting my shirt with my other hand, I plunge her hand up my shirt and flatten her warm fingers against my bare skin, my fingers overlapping with hers. She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening.
But Andy doesn’t notice. He’s busy opening my Reese’s Cups, devouring the perfectly crafted, chocolaty peanut butter goodness.
Shay’s hand is frozen, stiff and unwavering. But then she does something surprising—the opposite of what she should. Her muscles relax, her fingers splaying out over the mounds of muscle, as if she's enjoying herself.
My abs flex, and her thumb brushes across my skin, sending shivers through my entire body, the tingles racing to my core.
The wrapper crinkles are loud enough that I feel comfortable leaning to the edge of my enclosure and whispering into her ear, my lips brushing her hair, “Please never stop.”
She gulps, her lips parting and pupils dilating.
“Getting ready for bed?” she asks Andy, doing her best to not focus on her wandering hand.
We can make this more interesting. I smirk, dragging her hand lower to the waistband of my pants. But I don’t go further than that. Instead, I set her course north, sliding her palm up my abs, my pecs, and my neck, until my lips are pressed against her fingers.
Brushing the tips of her fingers across my parted lips, I suck one into my mouth, my tongue swirling.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, her reaction betraying her, as are her cheeks, which are now burning bright red.
Andy chuckles nervously. “You said I could have these, right?”
Her voice cracks. “Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry. I think I’m just tired. And I meant, like, what are you doing here? Just checking on me?”
Nice save.
Slowly, I pull her finger from my mouth, returning kisses to the palm of her hand and down her wrist. God, if she would let go of whatever’s holding her back, I’d love to show her just how good I could make her feel.
Andy’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “You brought your notes. Good. You’re doing better every day, Shay. I’m so proud of you.”
Her shoulders soften, and I suddenly have a new respect for her and Andy’s relationship. I know he was a mentor for her for a long time, then a coach and friend. I can see how much he means to her, and I’m so glad he encouraged her to do this. She’s already made major strides.
Pausing my kisses, I try not to interrupt the genuine moment they’re sharing.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, pausing for a beat. “I should—”
“Oh, I forgot to ask. How’s Kyle’s sitter doing?” he interrupts her, like the words were already on their way out of his mouth before she continued.
Her hand locks up in my grasp.
A sitter? Why would Kyle need a sitter?
Oh my God, she has a kid. I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. No wonder she didn’t want to tell me about him. I don’t think anyone knows besides maybe her family and Andy.
God, I was so insensitive about it. But it all makes perfect sense now.
She swallows. “Really good actually. I get constant photos and updates. I love working with her.”
She has a kid. Wow, I can’t believe it. I didn’t exactly picture myself becoming a dad or father figure for the first time like this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing and wanting.
Andy’s voice is pure happiness. “Good.” He yawns. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. See you in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Night,” she sings out, quickly shutting the door and locking it.