Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (21 page)

“So, that’s what you’re into . . .” he teased, but his voice was ragged.

“I want to watch you.”

“Really.” He infused a world of lust and desire into one word. “What’s it worth to you?”

He got to his feet, reached behind his back, and pulled his polo shirt over his head with agonizing slowness. She watched the muscles in his forearms bunch and flex. The shirt moved over his abdomen, up his chest, and finally, over his face. It fell from his fingertips to the floor. His chest looked like it was carved from stone. It was lightly covered with dark curls, and a long, thin trail of hair moved vertically from his belly button to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Her mouth was instantly dry, unlike other parts of her body. She was breathless, and she licked her lips again with the little bit of moisture she had left. Amy couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow; he still had a six-pack, and everything was covered with smooth, tanned skin she had to touch.

“More,” she managed to croak out.

“I don’t know if I should be showing my package off to a woman who’s not naked yet,” he said, but he unbuttoned the waistband of his jeans, lowering the zipper one tooth at a time. She saw darker, curling hair, and he pushed the jeans off his hips to reveal black boxer briefs, already straining to cover his erection. His big, long, hard, bulging . . . He gestured to the boxer briefs with one hand. “I guess you want me to take these off, too, don’t you?”

Duhhh.
Just get them off
, she wanted to yell. Maybe she could tear them off with her teeth. He hadn’t touched her for at least two minutes, and she couldn’t have stood up right now if she tried. There was nothing on the planet she wanted more than she wanted him, right now. She unbuttoned and unzipped her own jeans, and writhed around as she attempted to shove them off.

“You’re the floor show,” she reminded him.

He reached down, grabbed the cuffs of her jeans, and removed them with a flourish.

“So, you’re going to strip me naked and have your way with me.”

She gazed into his eyes. “You could always say no, Matt.”

All she heard was his low laugh. He skimmed off his boxer shorts, stepped out of them, and knelt beside her on the bed.

He caught the elastic waist of her thong panties in his teeth, and tugged them slowly down her legs. He kissed and licked his way back up via her calves and inner thighs. By now, she’d abandoned propping herself up on her elbows to see what he was doing. She was too busy writhing around on the pillows to care. Frankly as long as it involved his lips, his tongue, and his hands, she wasn’t picky.

“Want more?”

“God, yes!” she burst out.

“I love a woman who’s enthusiastic,” he said. He pulled himself up and over her once more. Amy stretched her arms over her head, and he quickly restrained both wrists in one hand.

“I want to touch you,” she pleaded.

“Maybe.”

Oh, God, his eyebrow. She tried to sit up. She had to kiss him, right now, or she was going to die from an overload of adrenaline, hormones, and whatever else was currently swimming in her bloodstream. She was breathing hard already. He was, too.

She wondered if it was possible to die of great sex. She had a feeling she was about to find out, and she was willing to take the risk.

“I’ll think it over,” he said, and Amy wriggled beneath him. She wrapped both legs around his waist, and ground herself against him. “Jesus.”

“You’re not leaving me a lot of choices,” she managed to gasp out.

She arched her back a bit more, cradled his pelvis against hers, and gripped his thighs with her legs. He groaned, “Okay. You win.”

He let go of her wrists. She found a few things to do with her hands, which he seemed to enjoy. His mouth claimed hers, and she was lost in a lengthy, incendiary kiss. She was already sweating, and all they were doing was kissing.

In all honesty, there was some rubbing and friction involved as well. If he didn’t do something, like find a condom damn quick, she was going to come.

“More,” she breathed into his ear.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him. She straddled him, bending over him to kiss him again, and tangle her fingers in the heavy, dark satin of his hair. She felt him against her, hot and hard, and she sat up once more. He found the small, slick button between her legs with his thumbs.

All she could manage to get out was, “Oh, God, don’t stop.” He tipped her onto her back and replaced his thumbs with his tongue.

“Oh, Matt. That—oh, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He said something she couldn’t hear, and she felt the rumble of what had to be his laughter against the most sensitive parts of her body. He was enjoying himself, too, and she loved it. For the most part, though, he licked, he sucked, his tongue tickled her, he slid one finger and then two inside of her, and she was reduced to thrashing on the bed, calling out his name, and praying to the orgasm gods that the neighbors were not going to call the cops when she screamed. She was definitely going to scream.

He laid one big hand on her abdomen as he returned to his labors. She’d locked her legs around his hips.

“Easy,” he told her.

Amy felt it in her fingertips and her toes. It moved up her body, strong, unstoppable, and it would drag her under. She’d go happily. She felt the clench of her womb, the ripples throughout, the fireworks bursting behind her eyelids. She was hotter than the surface of the sun, despite the fact her room was cool. She heard herself scream, and she saw Matt’s triumphant grin when she opened her eyes. He pulled himself up to lie down next to her, slipped his arms around her, and waited for her to come back to herself.

She laid her head on his shoulder. There was the perfect space, right there, just for her. She felt herself relax against him. She trailed her fingers over his six-pack, which he—and his penis—seemed to enjoy. She’d like to embark on a leisurely exploration of his body. The chances were fairly good he’d agree to that.

His voice was low and amused. “That was quite an orgasm, Fifi.”

“Yes, it was. I loved it.” Her hand slid lower on his belly. She heard his quick intake of breath. “I think I have a condom.”

“If you don’t, I might.” He kissed her eyebrow. “I loved it, too.”

She dug through her bedside table with one hand. Her fingers closed around a small cardboard box, which she extracted out of the slightly messy drawer. At least she’d remembered to buy some the last time she went to the grocery store, even if she had to endure the disapproving glare of a female checker who probably hadn’t had sex since the last century.

“Let’s just do a little kissing and see what happens,” he said.

He rolled over on top of her, and things started happening really fast. Amy tried to tell herself it was because she hadn’t had sex with anyone for over a month now. Maybe all the bickering she did with Matt was some kind of aphrodisiac. A little while later, he grabbed the cardboard box away from her, ripped it in half, and extracted a foil-covered packet.

“Voila,” he told her as he waved it in front of her nose. She pulled it out of his hand, tore off the foil, and rolled the disc of latex over him. Slowly.

“Are you trying to kill me, Fifi?” he groaned. Of course, that required a little additional attention to the long, thick penis in her hands. “If you keep this up, you’ll be waiting even longer.”

“You were just telling me to take it easy,” she said in the most innocent tone she could muster. “Waiting is not necessarily a bad—”

He flipped her onto her back again and positioned himself between her legs before she could finish her sentence.

“More like it,” he ground out. He was inside her with one long, hot, slick slide. She wrapped her legs around his hips. He moved slowly at first as they got used to each other. She reached out to pull him into her.

She couldn’t get close enough to him. Even more, she wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her. She realized with a shock there was more going on here than mutual attraction, body parts that just happened to mesh, or something that felt good. She felt her soul open to him, as much as she’d just welcomed him into her body.

She let out a moan.

He picked up the pace. Just a little bit. Enough for her to know that if he kept it up, she was going to come again. She gripped him in her arms with her body. She squeezed him.

“Do it again,” he groaned.

She did. He moved just a little faster. His mouth sought hers. His tongue did a complicated dance with Amy’s. She raked her nails down his back, the skin damp with sweat. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm, and arched up into him. His chest hair rubbed over nipples hard enough to cut glass. Her head tossed on the pillows.

“Oh, God, Matt!”

“You’re going to come,” he told her.

And she did.

M
ATT WRAPPED HIS
arms a little more tightly around Amy as she recovered from another huge orgasm. She’d left him a little stunned, too. He’d never had a woman ask him to strip for her before. The delight in her eyes as she looked at him made him feel like he could leap tall buildings at a single bound. He’d never been with anyone who made love with such joy and abandon, either. He laughed with her. Most of all, he knew he’d never be able to get enough of her.

She tangled her long legs with his again. He let out a contented sigh as she sank into him.

“Happy?” she whispered. Her fingertips slid over his arm, outlining the muscles there.

“Yes.”

“Me, too.” She rubbed the tip of her nose on the side of his neck.

He had the urge to tell her this was already one of the better evenings of his life so far. He could tell her that he’d never forget what she tasted like, the sounds she made, or how she looked when she came. Most of all, he wanted to tell her something that scared the hell out of him, too: She was the one he wanted to come home to.

T
WO HOURS LATER,
Matt and Amy had ordered a pizza, taken a shower together, and were back in her bed. They both needed a little rest between bouts.

She’d listened to her girlfriends bragging before about how great some guy they were with was in bed. She’d had enough experience to know she enjoyed sex. She’d been with guys who were somewhat proficient at it, but he was something else. Matt was like a drug. Maybe her attraction was all about the forbidden. Maybe it was because he’d had lots of practice, because he persisted and chased her, or because she’d gone without for a while. She was resisting the impulse to leap on him again.

She was still fairly worried that having sex with him was the beginning of the end. It wouldn’t be the first time she slept with a guy and things didn’t work out so well afterward. But, dammit, at least she was going to have some great memories if it was. She wondered if it was possible to get enough of him in the meantime. Maybe she should find out.

Before she could do something to him that would bring a rapid and significant response, Matt reached over to wrap his arms around her waist.

“Sleep,” he said.

The only light in her room was the reflection of the full moon off the blinds over her window. She snuggled against him in the darkness. She didn’t ask if he was spending the night. Obviously, it would take some doing to pull herself out of his arms, and right now she didn’t want to.

He kissed the back of her neck once more.

They’d get some rest, and then she was
definitely
going to talk him into it again.

A
MY AWOKE TO
her cell phone ringing on the nightstand. The call went to voice mail while she tried to disentangle herself from the sheets and Matt’s massive arm. The clock on her phone read 1:33
AM
.

“What’s up?” Matt asked sleepily. She was thrilled he was still there, but that happiness was quickly replaced by a jolt of fear as the phone rang again. Brandon’s face popped up on the screen. He wouldn’t be making a social call at 1:34
AM
.

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong.” She felt alarm skitter up her spine. Was something wrong with her parents? She hit “answer.”

“Brandon?” she said. “What’s going on?”

He sounded stressed and almost panicky. “Where are you right now?” Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.

“I’m at home. Why? What happened?”

“We’re at Evergreen Hospital.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Emily.” Brandon’s voice broke. “Someone hit our car. She’s going to be okay, but she’s asking for you. We’re at the emergency room.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can. Just—just tell her I’ll be there,” Amy said. She hung up and started scrabbling around for her underwear. The room was dark and she bounced off a few things, which freaking hurt, but bruises were nothing in comparison to the panic that gripped her.

Amy threw her phone back into the blankets while rushing around her room. She grabbed up her clothes.

“What’s going on?” Matt asked.

“Brandon and Emily were in a wreck,” she told him as she shoved her legs into the jeans Matt dropped on the floor earlier. “They’re at Evergreen. Emily’s hurt. Brandon says it’s not a big deal, but I—I have to go there.”

Matt scrambled out of the bed, and his arms surrounded her. “She’s going to be okay,” he soothed. He let go of her, flipped on the bedroom light, and gathered up his clothes.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“No. No. I can drive the Bug. It’s still out in the garage.”

“No, you can’t. You’re upset, and you shouldn’t be behind the wheel. Let me get some clothes on, and I’ll get you there.”

“I can drive—”

“Don’t make me take your car keys.” He slid into his jeans. He jammed his feet into socks and dress shoes, pulled his shirt back on and said, “Let’s go.”

Amy finished dressing and followed Matt as he negotiated her house like he’d lived there his entire life. She tried to tell herself he’d probably scrambled out of many other women’s homes in the dark before, but this seemed different. She liked having him in her space. He’d spent the day helping her out when things went so wrong at the shop, they’d spent a great evening together, and he insisted on accompanying her to the hospital to see Emily in the middle of the night.