His eyes betray how taken aback he is by my words. “Are you serious?”
I nod and run my fingers gently down his back. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now. In this position.
“I still have to talk to Josie. If she doesn’t want to go, if she doesn’t want to leave her friends, I won’t make her.”
“Of course. I know that. I would never ask you to.”
“So I might have to stay…”
I think we’re about to discuss whether or not we’d try out long distance but he completely blindsides me.
“If you stay, I’m staying too,” he says calmly, confidently, as if his mind is already made up. “I’ll turn down the grant.”
“Matt,” I say incredulously.
“Bailey,” he replies, mimicking my tone.
“You have to go.”
He starts to move again, slowly dragging himself out and thrusting back in. I arch my back and he smiles, happy about my reaction.
“There’s no point in trying to talk me out of it,” he continues. “There will be other grants and other opportunities like this. There is only one of you.”
I shake my head but he picks up the pace, and my body isn’t quite sure what it’s supposed to be focused on. My heart breaks at the idea of him giving up on Costa Rica, and yet I can’t quite think of a logical argument to use against him because it’s impossible to stave off this orgasm for much longer and then he makes it that much harder when his hand moves to my breast. He rolls his palm across my nipple and every thought flies right out of my head.
No! I chide myself. This is important!
“This is still so new. We could still crash and burn so easily,” I point out as his hand moves down between my legs.
The side of his mouth hitches up in amusement. “Maybe. I’ve heard I’m pretty hard to tolerate. You’ll probably get sick of me soon enough.”
“Ma…Matt!”
I mean his name to come out as a reprimand for not taking this conversation seriously enough, but midway through it changes into a moan because his finger finds the exact right spot between my thighs, just above where he’s sliding in and out of me.
“What?” he taunts, brow quirked.
He’s daring me to continue this, to try to come up with sentences that have nouns and verbs and all I can do is pinch my eyes closed and grip his muscled shoulders as his finger speeds up and my orgasm builds to a mind-numbing, all-consuming, going-to-scream-if-you-don’t-cover-my-mouth ending.
His mouth crashes down onto mine as I start to shake. Over and over again, sparks of pleasure shoot through me and my orgasm becomes his and he’s right there with me, coming hard and kissing me to the point of pain.
For every moan we stifle, we take it out on each other with our hands and our mouths and his hips grinding me into the leather couch. I’m sweating and breathing hard as I flutter my eyes open and find myself back in Matt’s office.
At work.
In the middle of the day.
I stifle a laugh and turn my head to kiss his cheek. His face is still tucked in the crook of my neck and his eyes are closed.
He doesn’t want to rejoin the world. I think I broke him.
I poke his chest and he grunts.
“You’re suffocating me,” I groan.
He rolls to the side and blinks his eyes open, but neither one of us make a move to get up. His hand reaches up to cup my chin and he pulls my face toward him so his lips can find mine again. His hand curves around my bare hip. Desire ignites inside of me like a match catching fire. He’s insane. I’m insane. This feeling is insane. Can you fall in love in weeks? In days? In minutes? I have nothing to compare this to, so I decide the best option is to just ask Matt.
“Will you be honest with me about your feelings really quick?”
“Now?” he groans, stringing kisses down my neck. His hand is stroking the inside of my thigh. My stomach dips with anticipation and my eyes flutter closed. I spread my legs just a little.
“It’s not ideal timing, I know, but I already started and half the battle is bringing up the subject in the first place.” I conjure superhuman willpower and push him away so my neck is left bare and cold, and his hand moves back up to my hip. Just like that, round two gets pushed to the back burner. Boy, am I an idiot.
Matt props his head on his hand and stares down at me, amused when I expected him to be annoyed. “I’m all ears, but just to be clear, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you after this conversation is over.”
I shiver at the thought. “Oh dear. Right, I’ll hurry. Okay, so you were married once, right?”
“Yes. Once.”
“So you know what love feels like?”
The tip of his mouth lifts and could I be more stupid?! This whole thing is transparent. I’m supposed to keep my cool and lock my feelings away until some distant time in the future when it’s obvious he loves me too, and then—and ONLY THEN—should I be honest about how much I am head over heels for him.
“No!” I say quickly. “I’m not bringing that word up because I’m about to declare it…I was just hoping for some clarification.”
“Okay,” he replies, and I’m glad he sounds mildly intrigued, but unfortunately, I can’t seem to figure out the best way to explain myself. Then a brilliant idea smacks me in the face.
I grin. “Okay, how about this? Let’s play doctor and patient.”
I don’t miss the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“You have my full attention,” he muses.
I laugh and press my hand to his chest to keep him at arm’s length in case he gets any wild ideas. “No. Stay focused! I’m going to give you my symptoms and you’re going to decide if what I feel for you is just lust or if, y’know, maybe—”
“You’re in love?” he finishes for me.
My face burns.
My brows pinch together as I ask, “Does that scare you?”
His gaze holds mine, but he doesn’t reply, and I hate how indiscernible his features are. He never hides his feelings from me. Not usually.
“This is stupid,” I say, turning to stare up at the ceiling.
“Tell me your symptoms,” he goads with a cheeky smirk.
I roll my eyes, but he kisses my neck and nudges me with his nose, like a dog begging for pets. “Tell me.”
“All right, well, let’s see…my stomach flips with excitement whenever you enter a room.”
“Mmm, could be either.”
“Right.” I nod and continue, “Um, you really turn me on.”
He laughs. “Either.”
“I’m considering moving to another country with you.”
He hums.
“I see a future with you—not in a let’s-get-married-tomorrow sort of way, but more like wow I really admire and respect you as a person and think you’d make a great husband, a great dad.”
He pulls back and frowns, really studying me. It’s not exactly the reaction I was going for—more balloons and confetti, maybe a smile would have been nice—but at least he doesn’t push me off the couch and make a quick getaway.
“Dad,” he repeats slowly.
I frown as a thought pops into my mind, one that hadn’t occurred to me until this moment. “Oh, god. You want kids, don’t you? Please say yes because my heart can’t take much more this week.”
His brows soften and he nods, kissing my forehead, tugging me close. “Yes. I want kids.”
“Okay good.”
“A couple.”
I grin. “Even better. So, do you have a diagnosis for me?”
“I should probably run a few more tests,” he quips as his hand wanders across my back and over my butt. He squeezes twice. “But even without them, it’s pretty clear what you’ve come down with.”
“Oh yeah?” I lean my head back and smile up at him.
His other hand rests on my forehead like he’s taking my temperature. He hisses under his breath. “Just as I suspected—you’ve got it bad.”
I crack up. “Love, huh? Well then, what’s my treatment plan?”
I nod and run my fingers gently down his back. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now. In this position.
“I still have to talk to Josie. If she doesn’t want to go, if she doesn’t want to leave her friends, I won’t make her.”
“Of course. I know that. I would never ask you to.”
“So I might have to stay…”
I think we’re about to discuss whether or not we’d try out long distance but he completely blindsides me.
“If you stay, I’m staying too,” he says calmly, confidently, as if his mind is already made up. “I’ll turn down the grant.”
“Matt,” I say incredulously.
“Bailey,” he replies, mimicking my tone.
“You have to go.”
He starts to move again, slowly dragging himself out and thrusting back in. I arch my back and he smiles, happy about my reaction.
“There’s no point in trying to talk me out of it,” he continues. “There will be other grants and other opportunities like this. There is only one of you.”
I shake my head but he picks up the pace, and my body isn’t quite sure what it’s supposed to be focused on. My heart breaks at the idea of him giving up on Costa Rica, and yet I can’t quite think of a logical argument to use against him because it’s impossible to stave off this orgasm for much longer and then he makes it that much harder when his hand moves to my breast. He rolls his palm across my nipple and every thought flies right out of my head.
No! I chide myself. This is important!
“This is still so new. We could still crash and burn so easily,” I point out as his hand moves down between my legs.
The side of his mouth hitches up in amusement. “Maybe. I’ve heard I’m pretty hard to tolerate. You’ll probably get sick of me soon enough.”
“Ma…Matt!”
I mean his name to come out as a reprimand for not taking this conversation seriously enough, but midway through it changes into a moan because his finger finds the exact right spot between my thighs, just above where he’s sliding in and out of me.
“What?” he taunts, brow quirked.
He’s daring me to continue this, to try to come up with sentences that have nouns and verbs and all I can do is pinch my eyes closed and grip his muscled shoulders as his finger speeds up and my orgasm builds to a mind-numbing, all-consuming, going-to-scream-if-you-don’t-cover-my-mouth ending.
His mouth crashes down onto mine as I start to shake. Over and over again, sparks of pleasure shoot through me and my orgasm becomes his and he’s right there with me, coming hard and kissing me to the point of pain.
For every moan we stifle, we take it out on each other with our hands and our mouths and his hips grinding me into the leather couch. I’m sweating and breathing hard as I flutter my eyes open and find myself back in Matt’s office.
At work.
In the middle of the day.
I stifle a laugh and turn my head to kiss his cheek. His face is still tucked in the crook of my neck and his eyes are closed.
He doesn’t want to rejoin the world. I think I broke him.
I poke his chest and he grunts.
“You’re suffocating me,” I groan.
He rolls to the side and blinks his eyes open, but neither one of us make a move to get up. His hand reaches up to cup my chin and he pulls my face toward him so his lips can find mine again. His hand curves around my bare hip. Desire ignites inside of me like a match catching fire. He’s insane. I’m insane. This feeling is insane. Can you fall in love in weeks? In days? In minutes? I have nothing to compare this to, so I decide the best option is to just ask Matt.
“Will you be honest with me about your feelings really quick?”
“Now?” he groans, stringing kisses down my neck. His hand is stroking the inside of my thigh. My stomach dips with anticipation and my eyes flutter closed. I spread my legs just a little.
“It’s not ideal timing, I know, but I already started and half the battle is bringing up the subject in the first place.” I conjure superhuman willpower and push him away so my neck is left bare and cold, and his hand moves back up to my hip. Just like that, round two gets pushed to the back burner. Boy, am I an idiot.
Matt props his head on his hand and stares down at me, amused when I expected him to be annoyed. “I’m all ears, but just to be clear, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you after this conversation is over.”
I shiver at the thought. “Oh dear. Right, I’ll hurry. Okay, so you were married once, right?”
“Yes. Once.”
“So you know what love feels like?”
The tip of his mouth lifts and could I be more stupid?! This whole thing is transparent. I’m supposed to keep my cool and lock my feelings away until some distant time in the future when it’s obvious he loves me too, and then—and ONLY THEN—should I be honest about how much I am head over heels for him.
“No!” I say quickly. “I’m not bringing that word up because I’m about to declare it…I was just hoping for some clarification.”
“Okay,” he replies, and I’m glad he sounds mildly intrigued, but unfortunately, I can’t seem to figure out the best way to explain myself. Then a brilliant idea smacks me in the face.
I grin. “Okay, how about this? Let’s play doctor and patient.”
I don’t miss the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“You have my full attention,” he muses.
I laugh and press my hand to his chest to keep him at arm’s length in case he gets any wild ideas. “No. Stay focused! I’m going to give you my symptoms and you’re going to decide if what I feel for you is just lust or if, y’know, maybe—”
“You’re in love?” he finishes for me.
My face burns.
My brows pinch together as I ask, “Does that scare you?”
His gaze holds mine, but he doesn’t reply, and I hate how indiscernible his features are. He never hides his feelings from me. Not usually.
“This is stupid,” I say, turning to stare up at the ceiling.
“Tell me your symptoms,” he goads with a cheeky smirk.
I roll my eyes, but he kisses my neck and nudges me with his nose, like a dog begging for pets. “Tell me.”
“All right, well, let’s see…my stomach flips with excitement whenever you enter a room.”
“Mmm, could be either.”
“Right.” I nod and continue, “Um, you really turn me on.”
He laughs. “Either.”
“I’m considering moving to another country with you.”
He hums.
“I see a future with you—not in a let’s-get-married-tomorrow sort of way, but more like wow I really admire and respect you as a person and think you’d make a great husband, a great dad.”
He pulls back and frowns, really studying me. It’s not exactly the reaction I was going for—more balloons and confetti, maybe a smile would have been nice—but at least he doesn’t push me off the couch and make a quick getaway.
“Dad,” he repeats slowly.
I frown as a thought pops into my mind, one that hadn’t occurred to me until this moment. “Oh, god. You want kids, don’t you? Please say yes because my heart can’t take much more this week.”
His brows soften and he nods, kissing my forehead, tugging me close. “Yes. I want kids.”
“Okay good.”
“A couple.”
I grin. “Even better. So, do you have a diagnosis for me?”
“I should probably run a few more tests,” he quips as his hand wanders across my back and over my butt. He squeezes twice. “But even without them, it’s pretty clear what you’ve come down with.”
“Oh yeah?” I lean my head back and smile up at him.
His other hand rests on my forehead like he’s taking my temperature. He hisses under his breath. “Just as I suspected—you’ve got it bad.”
I crack up. “Love, huh? Well then, what’s my treatment plan?”
