When he sticks one hand between my legs, he murmurs, “So wet. Can’t wait.”
In a move so quick I’m not even sure I understand how it happened, Matt has his jeans unzipped and his dick pulled out, slamming it inside of me. I gasp at the intrusion, not because it’s unwelcome, but because if feels so fucking good.
“I love the way you feel inside me,” I moan in his ear, and that causes him to pump harder between my legs.
“Do you like the way I fuck you?” Matt rasps out just before he presses his teeth into my shoulder.
“Y-e-e-e-s,” I manage to stammer while he sucks hard at my skin.
“Do you want it harder?”
“God, yes.”
Matt pulls my hips off the edge of the counter and, with a palm to the center of my chest, pushes me to lay flat on my back. Then he starts to slam into me so hard it feels like my hipbones are going to pop out of joint.
Still I cry out, “Harder.”
Matt groans over my words and gives it to me harder.
And about twenty seconds after that, we are both crying out each other’s names as we experience the mother lode of all simultaneous orgasms.
There is a requisite period of rest, when Matt leans his head on my chest while our breathing gets back to normal.
“That was insane,” I tell him, my fingers slipping through his hair to rub his scalp.
“We’re completely depraved,” he observes, pushing his head harder against my palm. “I thought I might break you there for a minute.”
I laugh softly. “It felt so good. You have complete permission to hammer at me that way any time you want.”
Matt looks up at me and smiles, holding my gaze in a way that says, You really are like the perfect woman.
He stands and zips himself up. Tearing off a paper towel, he gently cleans me up, placing soft kisses on my belly as he does. Then he pulls me up, places my t-shirt back over my head, and points me to a bar stool while he makes me a cup of coffee.
I watch as Matt cooks me breakfast. It’s simple… just scrambled eggs and bacon, but there’s something touching about watching your lover cook for you.
When he turns to place my plate before me, my cell phone, which is laying on the counter, starts to ring. I glance down at it at the same time Matt does, and I internally groan when the name “Cal Carson” displays across the screen. I reach out and slap at it to disconnect the ring, knowing that Cal will leave me a voice mail.
I look up at Matt, prepared for him to go ballistic. There is a tiny tick in his jaw muscle, but his voice is fairly calm when he says, “Why is Cal calling you?”
“We’re friends, Matt. Just friends.”
Matt stares at me, his brow furrowed. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like my friends,” I tell him.
“You can be friends with him, even knowing what he did to me? I mean… you do know the sordid details, right? You know his friendship has no loyalty, right? And that’s the type of friend you want?”
He’s angry, and I get it. He has every right to be, and I’m suddenly very confused. I want to be friends with Cal, but my loyalty has to be to Matt, right? I mean… he is my boyfriend.
A pleasurable rush goes through me at the thought of Matt being my boyfriend. It’s something I want… very much.
Matt looks at me intently. “Mac… I don’t know if I can do this with you if Cal is a part of your life.”
My heart actually hurts for Matt because I see him standing there, looking at me with fear. He’s afraid I’ll walk away, and that Cal will destroy another relationship. But I’m not going to let that happen.
I hop off the bar stool and walk up to him. Taking both of his hands in mine, I rub my thumbs over the backs in an attempt to soothe him.
“Matt… if you want me to choose, then I choose you. Always. But before you ask me to do that, will you at least hear me out?”
Relief washes over his face and his arms wrap around me, pulling me in. He doesn’t respond, so I pull back.