At Last (21 page)

Read At Last Online

Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: At Last
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She shook her head. “You didn’t.”

“I’ll shower and change real quick,” he promised, and left her in his living room while he vanished into his bedroom.

Through the open door, Amy heard the thunk of his shoes being kicked off one by one, and then the shower came on. She tried not to think about him stripping down to skin and failed. To distract herself, she looked around. The first time she’d been here, she hadn’t had time to take it all in, what with the jumping of each other’s bones and all.

He had running shoes half under the couch, a newspaper scattered on the coffee table. Next to the front door was a baseball bat and mitt. A laptop sat on the couch.

This wasn’t just a place where Matt hung his hat at night. He
lived
here.

Had he loved here?

She was surprised at the yearning to know. His shower turned off. Next came the sound of a drawer opening and then some rustling.

“We missed our reservations,” he called out to her. “But maybe they’ll still take us anyway.”

It would be at least a forty-five minute drive, and undoubtedly a wait, and while she imagined the food would be worth it, she didn’t want the fancy dinner, the crowd, the candles and dancing thing. “We could just eat here,” she said.

A beat of silence, and then he appeared in the doorway wearing low-slung Levi’s.

And nothing else.

He held a shirt in his hands as his eyes met hers. “You want to stay here?”

His hair was wet and had been barely finger-combed, leaving it standing up and spiky. He smelled like soap and shampoo and himself. And he hadn’t been all that efficient with a towel either because his chest was damp.

And so was she. “I’ll cook,” she said, thinking she was
already
cooking, from the inside out.

He followed her into his kitchen. “You don’t like to cook.”

Actually, she liked to cook just fine. She just wasn’t all that good at it. But she did have one specialty. “If you have bread and cheese and a pan, we’re in business.”

He shrugged into his shirt, and she wished he hadn’t. Eating grilled cheese with the spectacular view of his chest and abs would’ve been better than any dessert she could have whipped up.

He stepped close, his eyes dark and heated. “I like where your thoughts just went.”

“Did I say them out loud?” she asked, startled.

“No, but you were thinking them clearly enough.” He backed her to the kitchen counter and caged her in with a hand on either side of her hips. Ducking a little, he looked into her eyes. “You want me.”

She blew out a breath. Seemed silly to try and deny it now, especially since she’d said so in his truck. His eyes were deep and dark and beautiful and filled with affection and a devastating heat. He looked so… alive, him and that megawatt smile as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to the counter.

“Um…”

With a polite cock of his head to let her know he was listening, he pushed between her legs, spreading them wide so that he was flush up against her. When she didn’t finish her sentence—couldn’t even remember what she’d wanted to say—he kissed her. He kissed her until she couldn’t remember her own name and then backed away and went to his refrigerator.

She stared at his back and tried to access some brain cells. “So what made you decide to be a ranger? SWAT not exciting enough for you? You decided you’d rather rescue fair maidens and wrangle drug runners?”

He pulled butter and cheese from the fridge. He grabbed a loaf of thick sourdough bread from the counter and grabbed a knife. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah?”

He set a pan on the stovetop and turned on a burner. He began to butter the bread slices, but she took the knife from him and took over the task.

“I promised to cook for you,” she said. “You talk.”

He met her gaze. “I didn’t think talking was one of your favorite things to do.”

He was throwing the ball back at her. She recognized the technique well. And he was right, she wasn’t much of a talker. She’d never been all that curious about a man either. There were a whole bunch of firsts going on here tonight. “I want to know,” she said simply. “I want to know more about you.”

Chapter 14
 

 

There are two food groups: chocolate and fruit. And if it is fruit, it should be dipped in chocolate.

M
att turned to Amy, surprised. “You want to know more about me? Why?”

Looking both embarrassed and resigned, she bit her lower lip. “I know, I made a whole big deal about not getting involved…”

He laughed softly at the both of them. Because he knew that
neither
of them wanted to get involved—or attached—but it was happening anyway. “What do you want to know?”

“I suppose you learned to handle bad guys like that in SWAT and probably the military, too. Army?”

“Navy,” he said. “Ty and I went through basic together and then spent some quality time in the Gulf.”

“Ty… Mallory’s boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“That’s where your readiness comes from. The cool calm. The ability to take down four huge potheads single-handedly.”

“It wasn’t single-handedly tonight,” he reminded her. “I had Sawyer.”

“Still pretty impressive.” She paused. “You’ve seen and done a lot in your life.”

He held her gaze. “I have.” More than she knew.

“So what made you come here and be a forest ranger?”

Turning in his partner for being on the take. Having his marriage fall apart after failing to keep Shelly safe from his job. Basically, his entire life had detonated in the span of a few months, and he’d needed out. But he wasn’t about to spell out his failures to a woman he hoped to have naked and under him by the end of the evening. “I like the uncomplicated life here.”

“So you wanted peace and quiet?”

He hadn’t yet found the peace, but he
had
found the quiet, and he’d settled for that. “Yeah.”

Studying him, she tilted her head to the side a little. “Do you ever miss it? The big city, the people? Your family?”

“I see my family. And no, I don’t miss it.”

“And your wife?” she asked softly. “Do you miss her?”


Ex
-wife,” he reminded her. “And no.”

“But…”

He really didn’t want to have this conversation. He wasn’t about to spill his guts and have her look at him differently. So instead of letting her lead him back to a past he didn’t like to remember, he leaned in and kissed her. Lightly at first. Warm. Then not so lightly. He kissed her until she let out a low hum of arousal and slid her hands up his chest and into his hair to hold him to her.

Not that he was going to let go. Hell, no. And just like that, what had started out as a distraction technique
quickly escalated into something else entirely, into that same unquenchable hunger he always felt for her, the one he’d had since she’d first shown up in Lucky Harbor.

It might have taken him six months to get here with her, but he was done wasting time. Luckily, she appeared to feel the same way because she turned off the stovetop burner, took his hand, and led him to his big sofa in the living room.

The last time they’d been here, right here, she’d commandeered the reins. He had no idea if he’d earned her trust enough yet for it to be his turn, but he hoped so. Either way, he was perfectly willing to give her whatever she needed, just as long as she was with him all the way.

Amy looked into his face, her expression one of reluctant affection and enough heat to steal his breath. He cupped her face for a kiss and she let him do it, even making a soft hum of pleasure before suddenly pushing him down to the couch.

Okay, so she still didn’t trust him enough to let him lead. He allowed himself to fall but he made sure to take her with him, tugging so that she landed on his lap. Her short skirt slid up her gorgeous thighs to dangerous heights.

He’d been dying to get a peek beneath all night, but before he could, she nipped his bottom lip, hard, and then soothed the sting with one very sexy, slow swipe of her tongue. He went instantly hard even as he got the answer to the big question.

No, she wasn’t ready to make love. This was still going to be sex. Sex was good, but he forced himself to slow down, to slow them
both
down. Stroking back her hair, he murmured her name as he kissed his way to her
ear, because if nothing else, he was going to make damn sure that there’d at least be some tenderness to go with it.

Amy loved having Matt beneath her, warm, strong, and hard. She couldn’t get enough of him. It was quite shocking.

He’d called one thing right—she wanted him. Bad.

She turned in his lap, straddling him now. His hands immediately slid beneath her skirt and palmed her butt. Gripping his biceps, she kissed him. Letting out a low growl of pleasure, he kissed her back, plundering her mouth without trying to break free of her hold or rush her. He didn’t tear off her clothes or roll her beneath him either. He just took what she gave, all relaxed and at ease, willing to let her do as she wanted with him.

And there
was
something she desperately wanted. She ground herself against his erection and heard his breath hitch, making her realize that he needed her as badly as she needed him. Releasing his arms, she slid hers around his neck.

He broke the kiss and gave her a searching look before kissing her again, his hands shifting on the move. Clever fingers unhooked her bra so that he could cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Then it was
her
breath that hitched.

God, she really needed him inside her. She needed the big bang, the relief, and only he could give it to her. “Condom,” she gasped against his mouth.

“Back pants pocket.” They broke apart to undress in a frenzy, and then she was sliding onto him.

“Oh, fuck,” he said reverently as he filled her.

It gave her such a rush, reducing this smart, sharp
man to nothing more than single syllables. And she knew exactly how he felt because she could hardly think; he felt so good inside her. She moved on him, slowly at first. When she was ready for more, she tried to pick up their pace but he wrapped a hand in her hair, his other hand going to her hip to hold her still.

“No.” His voice was serrated, thick, his grip preventing her from racing them both to the finish line. “Don’t move. Not a single muscle—Oh, Christ,” he grated out when she clenched on him. “Christ, you feel good.” His fingers tightened, and she knew she’d have bruises.

She didn’t care. His tongue was back in her mouth, moving in tune to the way his body moved within hers, and it was more than she could take. She broke loose and undulated her hips as she climbed higher, then higher still when he reached a hand between them to stroke his thumb over the current center of her entire universe.

Crying out, she clutched at him, out of control and unable to care. When she came, it was hard and fast. She heard Matt swear reverently as he rocked her through it, and then he was flying with her.

Finally, they stilled against each other. Sated, she laid her head against his shoulder as he pulled her in tight. When her breathing calmed, she sighed. “You make me lose myself.”

“Good.”

She met his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Everyone should lose themselves just like that, as often as possible.” And then he flashed her a smile before dumping her off his lap. He smacked her lightly on the ass, rose to his feet, and then strode naked into the kitchen. “Starving,” he said over his shoulder.

She gaped after him. “You going to eat like that?”

“Yeah. And so are you.”

She hated being told what to do. Always. It made her run away.

But she didn’t run. Instead, she followed him like a lovelorn puppy into the kitchen, where they consumed grilled cheese sandwiches while leaning against the counter. Naked.

He told her about his day, making her laugh at how he’d been followed around by a group of camping biologists who’d wanted him to discuss the bodily functions of the otters in the cold water streams that fed into the water supply. He spoke fondly about his family, about his warm but nosy mom, his take-no-shit dad, his brother who had three little girls of his own now—karma’s idea of a joke since his brother had been crazy wild. He told her how he and Ty had beaten the shit out of each other just that morning in the gym, with Josh standing over them on the sidelines like a worried den mother…

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