Maybe Matt's Miracle
Page 24

I go out the front door and groan loudly. I want to go back to her. But I also want to do this the right way.
Skylar
Matt’s barely out the front door when I call him. In fact, I can hear the ding of the elevator over the bad reception in the enclosed space when he answers me with nothing more than a groan.
“Matt,” I say quietly.
“What?” he bites out. But I can almost hear the lazy smile in his voice.
“Come back.”
He hisses out a breath. Then says quietly, “If you say the word come one more time…”
My breath catches, and my heart starts to trip. “Matt.” I’m grinning like a fool, and I don’t care. My door is shut, and no one can see me.
“Are you still topless?” Matt asks. His voice sounds like it’s been dragged down a gravel road and back.
I look down and cross my arms over my na**d breasts. I guess I am. “Yeah,” I say.
He groans again. “Send me a picture.”
“I’m a lawyer. We don’t do stupid shit like that.” Not to mention that I’m a mom. And moms don’t do that. I look down at my chest and unfurl my arms. “My ni**les are hard.”
“Sky!” he hisses, but he’s laughing, too. “Stop it.”
“What’s wrong, Matt?” I tease. I hear him give his address to a cab driver. “Why are you taking a cab?” He usually takes the subway.
“Because I want to get home quickly,” he says.
“Why?” I put one knee on my bed and crawl to the center. I should probably put a shirt on, but I kind of like the naughty feeling of being topless while talking to Matt.
“Because I want to talk you through an orgasm,” he says.
“What?” I ask. My heart skitters.
“You heard me.” He chuckles. “Unless you don’t want me to.” He waits for my answer.
“I want you to,” I whisper.
He hisses in a breath. “Talk to me about something else for a few minutes,” he says over a chuckle. I hear him groan and there’s silence, aside from street noises and a gentle sound when he starts to hum in my ear. I grin. I can’t help it.
After a short ride, I hear him thank the cab driver and slam the car door. Then he’s quiet as he takes the four flights of stairs up to his apartment. He’s breathing a little heavier when he gets to the top, but not much.
“Not now,” I hear him mutter to someone.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Paul.”
“Do you need to go talk to him?”
“All I need to do right now is make you come. He can wait.” I hear his keys clang as he drops them somewhere. Or maybe it’s change from his pocket. “Go lock your door,” he says.
I scramble across the bed and do what he says. My hand hangs on the doorknob for a second as I think about what I’m about to do. A shiver runs up my spine, but I push the thumb lock. The click shimmers through my hand. I hold onto the doorknob for another second.
“Good girl,” he says. His voice is smooth as silk, and it slides up my body, making my knees weak. “Go lie on the bed again.”
“You’re kind of bossy.”
“I know. You like it.”
I do. “How would you know?”
“Because you’re all wet and slippery and your heart is pounding just like mine is.” He waits a beat. “Isn’t it?”
This is Matt. Of course, he cares about how I feel. “Yes,” I whisper.
He growls. “Take off your bottoms.”
I prop the phone between my shoulder and my ear and hook my thumbs in the h*ps of my pajama bottoms, then shove them down over my feet. “Okay,” I say.
“Are you na**d?”
“As the day I was born,” I say over a nervous giggle.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
“How would you know?”
“Because every time I close my eyes, you’re all I see. You’re in my f**king head, Sky, every minute of every day.”
I was hot a minute ago, but now I’m breathless.
“Did you tell me your ni**les are hard?” His bed squeaks as he talks.
“Are you in bed?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He grunts. “Or rather, on it.”
“Me, too.”
“Good. Now back to your nipples.”
“What about them?” I grin. I can’t help it.
“I love them. They’re all pink and perfect, and when I kiss off all your lipstick, they’re the same shade as your lips.” He pauses. “Touch them.”
“Touch them how?”
“Not soft. Because they probably hurt, they’re so hard.” He waits. “Am I right?”
“How did you know?”
He chuckles, but it’s a pained sound. “Because I’m hurting, too, Sky.”
“Oh.”
“Pinch them lightly, both at the same time.” His breaths grow heavier.
“Matt,” I whisper. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Close your eyes.”
I do it.
“Now touch your nipples.”
I gasp as I draw a thumb across the turgid peak.
“God, Sky,” he whispers.
Matt was right. The swipe of my thumb is not enough. I cup my br**sts in my hands and pinch my ni**les between my thumb and forefinger. I nearly drop the phone from where it’s crammed against my neck.
“If I was there, I would pinch them and then lick the pain away.”
“Matt.”
“What?” He chuckles.
“What are you doing?”
He laughs again. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“The same thing I’m doing?”
“Well, I don’t have pretty tits to play with, but yeah.”
“How much longer before I can move down south?” I ask. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for him to laugh at me.
But he doesn’t laugh. “Now.”
“Thank God,” I breathe.
“Draw your knees up and then let them fall open. Please.”
I do as he says, and I feel all exposed, even though there’s no one in the room with me.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. “Spread yourself open with your fingers so I can see.”
My fingers part my slippery, wet folds, which are swollen and aching.
“Good girl,” he says.
“How do you know if I did it?”
“Because I can hear it in your voice, Sky.”
I can barely breathe.
“I hear every hitch and every gasp. I even hear what you don’t want me to hear.”
“Like what?”
“I hear your fears. I hear your aches. I hear your wants and needs. I hear it all.”
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “No one has ever heard me before.” A hot tear tracks slowly down the side of my face toward my hairline.
“I hear everything.” He waits another beat. “Touch your pussy, Sky.”
I slide my fingers through my wetness.
“Dip inside and get your fingers wet.”
“How many fingers?”
He growls. “How many can you take?”
I slide my middle finger inside and pump in and out, and then add my index finger. And just when I think I can’t stand it, I stretch myself open by adding my ring finger. I’m too full to crook my fingers, but I don’t care. “Three,” I tell him.
“Jesus,” he breathes.
“What do you want me to do now, Matt?”
“Rub your clit.” He grunts, and I hear a slick sound on his end of the phone.
“Are you using lube?”
“Spit.” He grunts. “I was in a hurry.”
I rub my cl*tin a small circle. “I won’t last long,” I warn.
“Thank God,” he growls.
My cl*tis hard and swollen and oh so sensitive. My small circles just leave me wanting.
“Faster,” he urges. “I need to hear you come.”
“You waiting for me?” My breath stutters along with my heart.
“Always,” he sighs.
“Matt,” I cry out.
“That’s right,” he urges. “Say my name.”
“Matt, Matt, Matt,” I chant.
“It’s me making you come, Sky. Only me.” His voice is low and soft and hits the very center of me.
“Only you.”
“Me. And you.”
My legs quiver, and I know it’s time.
“Sky,” he pleads. “Please come.”
A moan leaves my throat as my body bows with pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” he says. He grunts, and I can tell he’s coming, too. “Please don’t stop,” he begs.
I cry out softly, my body racked with tremors.
“Don’t stop,” he says, his voice growing softer.
“Unh,” I groan. I have to stop. My cl*tis too sensitive, my body wrecked. I slow my fingers and let the small aftershocks take me. Sensitive and used, I stop rubbing my pu**y and listen to him breathe.
We sit like this for a moment, and then I hear him move.
“Stay with me, Matt,” I say.
“I’m not leaving you,” he says with a chuckle. “I just need to clean up. I’m kind of a mess.”
“Oh,” I breathe over a laugh. Forgot about that.
“Yeah,” he says. He moves around for a second, and then I hear his bed creak again. I imagine him settling back against the pillows, a content smile upon his face. “You okay?” he asks softly.
“Mmm hmm,” I hum.
He laughs. “And she’s speechless after that orgasm.”
I giggle. I can’t help it. I’m na**d lying on top of my covers, and he just talked me through an orgasm over the phone. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Learn,” he says over a snort. “Shit, I’ve never done that before. That was all you.” He chuckles. “I can’t believe I let you corrupt me like that.”
I can’t bite back my grin. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
He yawns. “You couldn’t stop me.”
###
I wake up and look over at the clock. It’s two a.m., and I’m na**d and cold on top of the covers. I get up and put on my jammies, then go the bathroom and wash my hands. I look in the mirror. I shake my head. A few short weeks ago, I was a single girl living my single life with a boyfriend who didn’t care about me. Now I have three kids who I am learning to love beyond anything I ever imagined, and I have Matt. I never knew I could feel the way I feel for Matt about anyone. I kind of feel sorry for Phillip. He never got me to this point, and I never gave him what I’m willing to give Matt.
I have this insatiable desire to go check on the girls. I walk down the hall and into their room. The night-light they can’t sleep without bathes the room in a soft glow. Mellie is on top of her covers, so I gently pull them from beneath her and cover her up. She snuffles into her pillow and rolls over. Joey rarely moves in her sleep, but I tug her covers up to her chin anyway. She doesn’t stir.
I want to check on Seth, too, but he’s a teenage boy, and I worry about opening his door. I decide not to chance it.
I walk into the living room and startle when I see a light on the end table turned on. Seth looks over his shoulder at me, closes the book he has open in his lap, and jams it into the cushions of the couch.
“Everything okay?” I ask. I sit down on the other end of the sofa and draw my feet up under me.
“Yeah.” I realize his eyes are wet, and he swipes a hand beneath his nose.
“What were you looking at?” I ask. My heart breaks for him. He never did cry after his mom’s death, at least not that I could see.
“Just some pictures,” he says without looking me in the eye.
“Can I see?” I reach for the album, and he shrugs his shoulders. I pull it out and turn to the first page. Seth was adorable as a baby. I smile and look over at him. “You always had those dimples, huh?”
He grins and scoots next to me on the couch.
I look closer and see my dad in the album. My heart nearly stops. He has his arm around Kendra in a lot of the pictures, and he looks so comfortable with her. “Granddad was here a lot,” he says.
I nod. I don’t know why that chokes me up, but it does.
I turn the page. “Your mom was so beautiful.”
“I know.” His shoulder touches mine, and he leans against me, pointing to a picture. “That’s my dad.”
Well, that’s not what I was expecting. His dad is Latino.
“He spoke Spanish to us all the time.”
I look up at him. “You know Spanish?”
He nods and turns the page. “That’s the man my Grandma eventually married. He was nice.”
That’s the man who took my dad’s place.
“How much do you know about all that?” I ask. I don’t know how much I can and can’t say around him.
“Enough,” he says.
“Your mom was smart and beautiful, huh?” I say, turning to a picture of her getting an award for something.
He nods. “But she didn’t trust men.”
“Men leave,” I say. But I want to bite the words back as soon as I say them.
He shakes his head. “Not all of them.”
I quietly flip through the book.
“Matt wouldn’t leave,” he says quietly. “You should trust him.”
I heave a sigh. “I do. As much as I can.”
He nods. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll forget what she looks like,” he says softly.