One Good Man (6 page)

"Hey, neighbor. How's your foot?"

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One Good Man

by Nona Raines

Her hand tightened on the receiver and her pulse sped upon hearing the familiar voice. She'd spent all day avoiding any sign of Matthew. She'd been hiding in the house ever since she came home from work. She simply never imagined him calling.

"It's, ah, it's fine." Andie kept her voice low, even though there was no one but Daisy in the house to hear her.

"Why'd you leave?" He sounded angry. She never dreamed she had the power to hurt or upset him.

She drew a long breath. Her brain already forming the apology and her tongue ready to speak it when she stopped herself. Apologize? No. Instead the bold Andie who was born last night re-emerged and asked, "Did you miss me?"

That made him pause. Andie wondered if she'd pissed him off, but when he answered, he sounded amused. "Hell, yeah.

I was all set for round two, but you disappeared."

"Round two?" She bit her lip, her heart pumping faster.

"Taking a lot for granted, aren't you?" Was she really doing this, teasing him so playfully? The old Andie would have been stammering "sorry" left and right.

His voice went low and growly. "You think so?"

"Mmm." Her response was a combination purr and sigh. "I was sleepy."

"Oh, wore you out, did I?" The laughter in his voice told Andie she was not the only one getting a kick out of this conversation.

"Oh, please..." she scoffed, as though she had outdoor, up-against-the-siding sex every night of the week. Then a question pinged in her brain. How often did
he
have that kind 52

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of sex? The way Matthew sounded, it was no big deal for him.

Not that she was jealous.

Come on, Andie. The guy's probably had all kinds of
quickies with willing women.
And she had been more than willing.

She must have been silent longer than she realized. "Are you there?" he was asking.

"Yes." Her voice was harsher than she meant it to be.

Andie gripped the phone tighter.

"So. Are you coming tonight?"

Her heart beat in her throat. He wanted to see her again.

Although "see" wasn't the right word. They weren't dating. He wanted to have sex again. But what did she want?

A bitch does what she wants and doesn't care what anyone
else thinks.

"You might see me," she answered airily, in her best impersonation of a sultry siren.

Now he was silent.

"I'm not going to beg, Andie." Very quietly, he disconnected.

Though she argued with herself for a few minutes, Andie knew there was really only one thing she wanted to do. But when she crept to the glass door and peered through into the darkness, Matthew wasn't there.

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53

One Good Man

by Nona Raines

Andie's heart clutched and her brain stuttered.
What...?

Confusion and hurt gripped her. Where was he? He'd wanted to see her again. No, now that Andie thought it over, he never said that.
She
had asked if he wanted to see her, and he didn't answer.

He was miffed she'd disappeared last night, and now he was punishing her. She imagined him inside his house, smirking, watching for her. Trying to make a fool of her.

Exactly as Douglas and Gretchen had done.

Andie turned away, something inside her shriveling up like a dead leaf. Then she stopped. Wait a minute. Why should she slink away as though she was in the wrong? Maybe she shouldn't have slipped away from him last night, but she wasn't trying to be cruel.
He
was being cruel. And he had no damn right.

If she turned away right now, she'd be the same old Andie she'd always been. The one that stood by quietly when Douglas announced he needed space, instead of demanding to know what the hell he meant. That Andie never raised her voice, never argued, no matter how she was dumped on. The one who never fought for anything because she was so sure of losing. The one who valued dignity above all else.

Well, what was so all-fucking-fired great about dignity, anyway? What had it done for her so far?

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Last night a different Andie had taken the bull by the horns and grabbed what she wanted. She wanted to be that Andie again. By God, she would be.

She spun back, peering through the glass again. In spite of her tough new stance, her heart hammered with agitation.

Andie noticed for the first time the light at Matthew's back door had been left on. Its soft glow offered an invitation.

She slid the door open, ignoring Daisy's soft whimper from the living room. She slipped out to the deck, down the stairs and across the yard. When she reached his back door, she opened it and entered a small area, some sort of mudroom.

The light in this room was on as well, tendering a welcome.

A pair of work boots sat on the floor, and a jacket hung on a peg. In front of Andie stood another door. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the knob and pushed it open. Her breath caught. Matthew was there in the kitchen, sitting on a ladder-back chair, smiling at her.

"Took you long enough."

He looked perfectly at ease, in a T-shirt and jeans, his broad shoulders relaxed, his long legs stretched out and slightly apart. His hands rested curled on his thighs.

The skin on her arms prickled with goose bumps, the tiny hairs standing on end. A pulse fluttered between her legs.

His air of self-confidence bordering on smugness caught Andie off guard. She didn't know what to say, didn't know whether to smile or be ticked off. She settled for, "Why are you here?"

He simply lifted his shoulders. "Where should I be?" His gaze swept her. "Your foot better?"

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Andie's toes curled in her sandals. "Just fine."

His eyes sparked as they traveled up from her feet, slower this time, taking in her sleep shorts and cotton top. "No nightie, huh?"

Andie shook her head. "Not tonight."

They gazed at each other long enough for Andie to wonder
what now
? But Matthew surprised her by rising quickly to his feet and crossing the distance between them. He took her hand and slowly drew her to him. With his right hand, he lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look at him. She would have done that anyway. His hazel eyes mesmerized her. She was still trying to decide if they were greenish-brown or brownish-green when he kissed her.

And oh...his lips were so soft. He brushed them against hers gently, not being pushy or forceful, but teasing her, coaxing her to explore. And Andie did, leaning into him, opening her lips. Sweet. His kisses were sweeter than wine, sweet as candy, just as all the old songs promised. She wanted to eat those kisses up and savor them slowly at the same time.

"Over here," he murmured, pulling back and taking her hands again, leading her to the chair he'd vacated. The kitchen was dim and Andie was glad. She preferred complete darkness—she could be bolder in the dark—but at least she wouldn't be exposed in a cold unflattering light.

He urged her to sit and kneeled in front of her, leaning to kiss and taste her once again. He licked into her mouth and his tongue was a flame that ignited a raging fire inside. He tasted good—minty, like toothpaste.

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Matthew's fingers teased down her back, and she squirmed.

"Ticklish?" he breathed against her mouth.

"Uh-huh," she murmured.

His hands grasped the bottom of her T-shirt and she flinched. She wasn't ready to be revealed—what if she didn't measure up?

He sensed her hesitation and instead let his hands travel up over her rounded belly and her generous breasts. The thin cotton top was a little too tight, and her hard, beaded nipples jutted against the soft fabric. He held them for a moment, skating his thumbs over the points. The sensation was so exquisite Andie closed her eyes, her lips parting as she gasped.

His voice was a low rumble. "Feel good?"

"Ah. Yes." She opened her eyes then, gazing at him from beneath heavy lids.

"To me, too." He played with her, palming her breasts, tweaking her nipples through the shirt.

Tingles zipped like electric shocks from her nipples directly to her sex. Her pussy. Yes, that was the perfect word. Tonight she was being wild and naughty and decadent. Tonight she had nothing as coy as a "sex" or as clinical as a "vagina."

Tonight she had a hot, steamy, hungry pussy.

Hungry for Matthew and everything he had to give her.

Her gaze was glued to him as he leaned forward toward her chest, his hot breath searing her through the cotton. He caught the swollen tip of one breast between his teeth as he squeezed the other between his fingers.

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Andie's breath caught in her throat as her neck arched involuntarily. "Ah!" It didn't hurt. In fact, it was almost enough to make her come. She rocked against the seat, trying to ease the aching heaviness between her legs.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay," he crooned, pulling back.

Before she even knew what was happening, he swept her shirt up and off her body. Sitting back on his heels, he cradled her breasts and admired them with a soft sigh. "So pretty."

Andie glanced down at the creamy globes, tipped by toasty brown nipples and thought,
yes, they are pretty.
It was the first time any man had acknowledged that, and her heart lifted at his praise. She leaned into his caress, urging him wordlessly to continue expressing his appreciation.

Matthew sipped at her nipples, first one, then the other.

Her breasts were his toys to bounce, squeeze, play with as he saw fit. Andie's hands clenched spasmodically on his shoulders. Last night she had called the shots. Tonight it was his turn.

"Lift up," he whispered and she obeyed, raising her behind a few inches off the chair seat to allow him to wriggle her bottoms off and down her legs.

He smiled sweetly at her, his own eyes heavy-lidded, as he left the sleep shorts in a little puddle on the floor and arranged her legs so he could kneel been them. His chest expanded as he drew a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Andie detected it too, but instead of embarrassing her it made her feel more wanton. She dipped her head 58

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toward his, nipping at his lips while he drew back with a wicked laugh.

Her brows drew together in frustration as he denied her.

She wanted a kiss, damn it. Again she leaned in, but he held back, pressing her gently against the back of the chair.

Settling more comfortably between her knees, he gazed at the folds of her labia—her pussy—and gave a soft murmur of pleasure.

"Pretty?" she asked, thrilled at her own boldness. She'd never been a talker during sex. But she found the sexy talk stirred her up. Or maybe it was Matthew who stirred her.

His eyes flicked up at her and his lips quirked at the corner. "Just gorgeous, babe."

But soon his attention was once more focused on her thighs and the soft petals between them. His long middle finger stroked the seam and Andie shivered, biting her lip. He dipped low, into her opening, taking her moisture and swirling it up and around her clit. He dipped again, her fluid glistening on his fingers.

"So wet," he marveled in a quiet voice. "For me?" He looked up at her again.

"Yes." Her face bloomed with heat. She should be mortified beyond belief, but instead she was ferociously turned on.

Andie had never felt so needy. She wanted to grind against the seat to make herself come, to take the edge off, but at the same time she wanted to draw out this delicious torture.

"Just for you," she told him, her voice so low and throaty she hardly recognized it.

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One Good Man

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His palms glided reverently up the insides of her thighs, and his eyes glowed with appreciation. "Thank you." Matthew applied himself to showing his appreciation by stroking her slick center and rubbing his thumb lightly against her swollen clit. Andie's breath rasped loudly in the kitchen, quiet but for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Her eyes drifted closed as heat surged up her spine, and her lips grew fuller, her cheeks hot. She was getting close, so close...

When he withdrew his hand leaving her wanting, Andie's body sagged and she groaned in disappointment and frustration.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Matthew promised. He placed his big hands beneath her thighs and gently pulled her forward on the seat. "Scoot up a little." When Andie's butt was balanced right on the edge of the chair, Matthew lifted her right leg over his shoulder and moved his lips up the inside of her thigh. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Closer and closer to her clit. Andie grew more and more moist—sweet fluid trickling from her—

just for him.

He came so close she felt his breath, then he moved in the other direction, back toward her knee—teasing her. Andie moaned in frustration, then growled in anger. Cupping the back of his head in one hand, she pulled his face to precisely where she wanted it.

"What, honey?" She felt a puff of laughter as he pretended not to know what he was doing.

"You know what," she answered, trying to pull his head between her legs while he resisted, peppering her inner thigh with kisses.

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"But I can't read minds, babe," he explained, oh-so-innocently. "How can I know what you want if you don't—"

"I want your tongue." Shy Andie had left the building—

bossy Andie was now in charge. She forced the back of his head toward her again until his hot breath was, ah, right there, exactly where she needed it. Her head fell back in ecstasy.

Andie turned boneless as Matt's tongue danced lightly around her clit and the entrance below it. He didn't make the mistake some men did, of being too enthusiastic and too rough, numbing a girl out. His mouth was gentle. Gentle but not shy. His wet and supple tongue moved against her once, twice, again. When he claimed her clit with his lips and suckled Andie went over the edge, her hands clenching the chair's seat, her thighs going taut, orgasm rippling over her.