One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) (9 page)

Grinning around his cock, I finally cave, giving him what I know he needs. I pick up the pace, moving him in and out faster, sucking harder, rolling my tongue around the head, and taking him in deeper. “God, I love the way you feel on my tongue, Matty, you’re so hard.”

“Shit, Claire, you make me so fucking hard. Yeah, that’s it, baby. Suck it. Er, I mean if you want to…” He moves his hand along my cheek, encouraging, watching. Seeing him like this, giving in, letting me own this, excites me. I’m dripping and I can feel a throbbing against my panties. I’m not going to last myself.

Taking Matt out of my mouth, I pump him a few times.

“Claire.” My name comes across as urgent as I look up again to meet his gaze. My hand is still wrapped around his silken skin, so smooth to the touch, and I love having him at my mercy like this.

The idea of having him inside my body again soon ignites my soul, bringing it back to life like it’s been hibernating for too long. Giving me a nagging feeling that I try to avoid, the one that says: this man is your other half, take him.

Ignoring my thoughts, I start running my teeth gently along his rock hard shaft.
I know I’m teasing, but who cares?
I know Matty’s loving it deep down, and I love it all over the place.

I finally reach for his hands, placing them behind my head, giving him the permission I know he’s waiting for.

“Thank Christ,” he groans, gripping my hair before he begins fucking my face at a pace I know will drive him over the edge. Within seconds I feel him hit the back of my throat and I take everything he gives me.

“Jesus, fuck. That was incredible. Stand up; we’re nowhere near done. I need your pussy, now. I need
you
now.”

He pulls me up into his strong arms, nuzzling his face into my neck, holding me tight, and I feel it, too.

I won’t admit it or talk about it, but fuck if I don’t feel it, too.

Matt

A
fter two years
of nothing, no contact at all, she gives me
that
?

“Fuck, you astound me. Every damn time.”

The urge to hold her is overwhelming, and I pull her up off her knees. “That was incredible, I’ve missed that talented mouth of yours. Jesus, my dick is still thanking you. But it’s my turn now, baby,” I warn, dropping to my own knees, rubbing my hands up and down each of her silky tanned legs. Her skin is soft and smooth, making me want to lick every inch.

“Step out,” I say, removing her skirt, leaving her standing in nothing but tiny purple panties. She really is striking. I trail out a low whistle at how fucking beautiful she looks standing here in front of me, waiting, willing.

Pulling her pussy to my face, I breathe her in. “I can’t wait to taste you again but I’m too damn ravenous. I need you on my cock, Claire. Need you to feel your tight pussy wrapped around my dick. Need to watch you as you take me in and out, over and over again,” I practically growl as I trail my tongue over the silk covering her most intimate place. Her panties smell so sweet from the perfumed soap she keeps in her lingerie drawer that I can’t stop myself from inhaling deeply, her scent triggering my memory. She’s as amazing as I remember.

“Always smelled so sweet, Sugarshack. So fucking sweet.” I lick her pussy over the silk triangle that barely covers her heat, the pressure from my tongue on the material adding to her pleasure.

“That feels so good,” she says, and moves her legs apart, giving me more room. I pull the fabric aside, bunching it up stretching it out. I torment her by running the material, followed by my finger, gently over her slit, causing waves of pleasure to make her wobble, her legs almost giving way. She’s panting, looking down at me, lust clouding her vision, making her blue eyes the colour clouds turn before the most wicked of storms. I slide the stretched material along her folds again, slowly, back and forth.

“Matt, please, I need you. I need to feel you inside me,” she moans and thank God, because my cock is already hard again and I’m ready to give her exactly what she wants.

I stand up and lean my head against her forehead for a moment, taking in this girl who’s been absent from my life for way too long. My heart pounds in my chest, knowing that this is probably the last thing we should be doing, but honestly I could give a fuck right now with her here like this. My plan was for us to talk, to see how we would move forward with her back in town, decide how we’d deal with seeing each other so much with the wedding coming up. Talking is obviously the last thing on my mind; the pull between us winning once again—it wins every time. I’d be a liar if I said I could stop this, or that I didn’t want her like this for a zillion more moments either. But I can’t, so my choice is this, her, us. I’ll deal with the aftershocks tomorrow, when my head clears. When I’m not being guided by my cock.

“You ready for me?” I ask, pulling her mouth to mine. “I want you to ride me, Claire. To fuck me hard. I’m so wound up I can’t see straight. It’s been too fucking long.” I kiss her and take her nipples between my fingers, tugging and rubbing. My cock jumps at her reaction. Poor bastard’s going to explode he’s so ready for more of this girl.

“More than ready.” She lets out a lush breath.

Resting her hand on my chest, she starts pushing me backwards toward the booth. My bare legs hit the cool leather of the bench and I fall back, moving the table over with my elbow to give us more room.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” I lean up and take her erect nipple between my lips.

“Scootch back into the corner, Matty. You’re gonna need to brace yourself.” She lifts her eyebrows and raises her hands to tweak her own nipples, giving me a gentle shove so I’m flat on my back. Needless to say, I comply without hesitation. She slinks in and straddles me, each leg hugging my hips. She tilts her head while rubbing my hard-as-fuck cock over her the lips of her soaking wet pussy.

“Condom,” she whispers.

“Shit,” I hiss, as she begins moving her chest along mine, the feel of her nipples as they glide across my skin leaving me almost speechless. “In my jeans,” I manage, pointing in the general direction where I remembered leaving them in a puddle of denim on the floor.

“Ah, you’re lucky I’m always one step ahead.” Claire produces the condom she’s had tucked in her fist. “I grabbed it already. We always did make a good team, Matty,” she says, taking my bottom lip between her teeth. All I can do with her unintended jab is bite my tongue, I stay silent for a beat thinking about what I really want to say:
You left the team. You. Not me.

Not wanting to dwell on it right now, I move us along, “Yeah, baby, we really are. Now get that on my cock and ride me. I’m gonna fucking explode. I can feel your clit brushing my dick and it’s killing me.” I bite her neck softly.

With the condom in place, Claire eases herself down agonizingly slowly, taking me inch-by-inch, gasping as she finally takes it all in. Gripping her ass cheeks, I grind her down on me hard, eliciting the sexiest intake of breath I’ve ever heard. Heat radiates between us and a thin sheen of sweat coats our bodies which are now moving in sync. I can feel her hot breath and hear her tiny moans as she moves, towering over me, taking what she needs, giving us both what we want. Between the sounds of her wetness smacking and the sweet smell of her cunt as she fucks me, I’m in sensory overload. Watching her is like being in heaven. Claire Knox is gonna bring me to my knees.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect. Just like I remember. Christ, Claire. My dick looks so fucking right with you on it. This. This is perfect. You. Me. You can’t fucking deny it. You can run but you cannot fucking deny this,” I grit out.

“I know. Oh, Jesus, do I know. It’s never like this. Only with you. Shit, Matt, yes. More. More,” she says, running one hand through my hair, pulling it as she increases her pace. “So close. Matty, I’m so close.”

I place my hands on her hips and pull her closer. Dropping my gaze to where our bodies are fused together, I can see my cock slip in and out of her, catching glimpses of her juices coating and dripping off my rock hard cock. She leans forward; whispering against my cheek, Claire sounds breathless as I feel. She rests her face in the crook of my neck, and for a beat she stops, as if contemplating. Moving to look into my eyes, she lets out a sigh as she begins a combination of slow motions, teasing us both, knowing she’s holding us both just on the brink. Moving, losing herself to me, she shares what sounds like a confession. Albeit passion-induced, it’s still a confession, one I’ll fucking take: “God, I’ve missed your cock deep inside me, Matty. I need you. Fuck. So much. I just don’t always know it.”

“Jesus, Sugarshack.” I take her lips hard, unable to control myself now, the need to come inside her—to claim her—taking over. Grabbing her waist, I guide each thrust as she moves up and down, riding us both toward orgasm. I can feel her walls start to spasm as her hips bang into mine and she starts to explode around my cock, each pull and drag escalating the tension. Like a match, we both light up at the same time. I swear I see fucking Jesus I come so hard, and I think she does, too.

She rests her head on me, spent, both of us breathing heavily.

But I know this euphoric feeling isn’t going to last. Come on, this is Claire Knox I’m dealing with here. I feel the shift almost immediately, and brace myself for the rejection I know is coming.

“We shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. It’s just been so long and I let my memories get the best of me. Nothing’s changed,” Claire says, unable to meet my eyes as she disentangles her body from mine, carving the distance so she doesn’t have to deal with her true feelings. It’s always been easier for her to run when there’s a line drawn in the sand between us. Like the one she just drew.

I want to tell her so much in this moment, but there’s also an overwhelming feeling of wanting to wring her beautiful neck.
I know she felt it.
The electric spark of a connection, the one we’ve always had. I want to force her to hear me out. To listen to me tell her how she’s crossed my mind at least a hundred times a day over the last two years. Or how I still think of her when I smell a certain thing or how I’m a pussy and still buy the stupid brand of cereal that she loves and I hate on the off chance that she might show up for breakfast. I just want her to know that I’ve never stopped loving her. After all this time, it has only ever been her.

But instead I stay silent, listening to her talk herself out of admitting this was
right.
That we are right, and always have been. Instead, I vow to make it my mission to show her.

And with that thought, I gather my clothes and make my way to where she’s standing in front of the mirror fixing herself for her party. Placing my hands on her waist, I pull her back into my chest, running my scruff along her neck, stopping at her ear.

“You’re fucking perfect. We’re perfect. And we are far from over, baby. Have fun tonight and I’ll be seeing you soon.”

With that, I kiss her cheek before walking out without another word between us.

Claire

“J
eez, Claire, you’re
going to lose that nail if you keep chomping on it like that,” Kym scolds from the passenger seat.

“Shit. I know. Tina’s going to have to give me acrylics if I keep gnawing,” I add, glancing at the mess. I’ve made a complete disaster of them since the other night when Matt and I had crazy amazing sex at Pub Fiction. The same night I told him it was a mistake.

“You need to relax, everything will be fine. It’s not like Matty is going to attack you on sight at brunch,” Kym says with a cheeky wink. “Two words—
Mary Rollins
.” We all laugh. “Mary’s not going to give anyone time to speak about anything other than the wedding.” She waves her hand. “Besides, the whole wedding party will be there. He won’t have time to stalk your fine ass. We’ll all be too busy. Plus, I’m a great guard dog for the right price.”

“God, I’m so nervous. I haven’t seen him since the…
you know
. I’ve been avoiding him like I avoid going to church.” I exhale. “Hell if he hasn’t been trying to remind me he’s here, though. Between the flowers, the little notes, and the random texts, he’s slowly infiltrating my life, one Hallmark moment at a time,” I sigh.

“You know most girls would kill for that kind of attention, right? Like, you know you’re legit fucked up, eh?” Amanda says from the back seat as I park my car in front of the Rollins’ house. “And I can’t believe you haven’t told Kat what happened, either. She’s going to divorce your ass when she finds out about what really happened between you two the other night.”

“Ugh, don’t I know it. I’ll tell her, but not yet. She’s got enough going on. On top of that, I worry she’ll try to persuade me to have that dream double wedding we’d planned as kids. Besides, I did tell her the basics: he showed up, we talked and he left,” I say, as we head toward the house.
Avoid, avoid, avoid.

We’re here for a pre-wedding brunch and basic run-through of the big day. Mary wanted us all together so they could thank us for helping to make the day special (and to make sure we don’t fuck up, either!). I have to admit, I think Kat was over-reacting about Mary being wedding-crazed. I think she’s simply an excited, proud mom, but I might just be thinking that because I’d give anything to have my mom here being like Mary, if it meant I’d get her back.

Shaking myself free from that thought, I resolve to have a good time, in spite of Matt and in spite of the tinge of sadness I feel looming over this whole wedding. Walking into the spacious wood-floored foyer at Mary’s, we’re immediately greeted by laughter, shouting, and the smell of Mary’s famous Sunday brunch: eggs, bacon, pancakes, and, of course, her famous tourtière that we all make a beeline for. If nothing else, at least all of this wonderful food will save my nails from certain death.

After taking our purses up to my old room, I make my way into the kitchen, which turns out to be a big mistake. Everyone’s already made their way into the dining room. Except for Matt. He’s making his way around the buffet-style spread, juggling two plates and loading them up with most of
my
favourite things.
Oh, hell, no. Do not tell me he brought a date…shit, was this a plus one thing?
My stomach dips at the thought.