When Valentines Collide (10 page)

M
atthew couldn't concentrate on the flow of conversation around him during the men's networking hour. Various scenarios of what awaited him had Matt Jr. throbbing painfully against his thigh.

“You're panting like a dog that hasn't had a bone in two years,” Seth joked, handing his friend a Heineken. “Calm down, Cujo.”

Matt frowned. “Didn't Cujo have rabies?”

“Well, I was going to say Lassie, but she was a girl. At least Cujo would explain your foaming at the mouth.”

“I'm just a little anxious. What time is it?” He glanced at his watch.

“I'm guessing two minutes later than the last time you asked,” Seth chuckled.

“Very funny.” Matt rolled his eyes because it was exactly two minutes later. He took a swig of his beer. “I have to tell you, man. This trip saved my marriage.” He held his friend's gaze. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. Thank my lovable scheming wife. Frankly, I thought this whole thing would blow up in our faces and I would have lost my best client. I still can't believe it worked.”

“Well, so far so good.” He looked around. “You know, I should do an exposé on this place and others like it. I'm loving what this whole place is about.”

“I'll get on it.”

As the hour ticked on at an excruciating pace, Matthew noted that he wasn't the only man glancing at his watch every minute on the minute. When Dr. Dae Kim jingled a gold bell to draw the men's attention, he made sure to stay away from the door in case of a stampede.

Turns out, there nearly was one and Matthew wasn't ashamed to be the leader of the pack. By the time he reached his private lodge, he was a rocket ready for blastoff.

Calm down. Take a deep breath.
He barely tapped the door. The door opened, but his wife wasn't in view. His heart thumped against his chest as he crossed the threshold.

When the door closed behind him, he turned around and then blinked in surprise to see his wife in a sheer white gown. He could see every curve of her body.

“Welcome, my love. I've been waiting for you.”

“And I've been going crazy waiting for this moment.”

Chanté smiled, but kept her head lowered. “Would you like for me to take off your shoes?”

Matthew pressed his big toe against the heel of his shoes and kicked them off one at a time. “What shoes?” He then pulled his shirt off over his head, unbuckled his pants and rushed toward her.

This time Chanté couldn't help but laugh and she had to press her hands against his chest to stop him from jumping her bones right then and there. “Slow down, baby,” she cooed up at him.

His pants slid off his hips and hit the floor.

She stifled a laugh at his eagerness. “We have all night.”

Was it going to take all night to get to the good part?
“Yes. Yes. You're right.” He smiled painfully.

“Good.” Chanté beamed a smile at him. “I prepared something for you in the living room.” She started to walk off and then stopped. “Uh, would you like to see it?”

Matthew understood the slip. His wife was not the submissive type, which made him appreciate the effort she was putting into this. “I would love to see it.” He stepped out of the pants pooled at his feet and followed her, wearing only his boxers and socks.

She nodded slyly and then escorted him into the living room area. Just like the night before the place was littered with candles, but instead of the clean floral scents, these candles gave the room a more cinnamon and spice smell. On the room's portable radio was the unmistakable music of Miles Davis.

“Would you like to sit down?”

“Don't mind if I do.” He settled onto the leather sofa like a king on a throne. Only then did he notice the spread of food on the large, square coffee table.

“Uhm.” She cleared her throat. “I was sort of hoping you'd like to sit on one of the velvet cushions.” She gestured to the ones on the other end of the table.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” He shot back on his feet and raced over to the cushions.

Chanté took a deep breath and tried to remain in character.

Matthew watched in a dreamlike trance as his wife's beautiful silhouetted figure glided toward him. He almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but he decided against it in fear that he would wake up.

“Would it please my love if I took off my gown now?”

Hell yes!
He nearly laughed aloud at his eagerness. “It would please me very much.”

Like the great tease she was, Chanté's hand drifted to the small zipper in the center of the gown and then slid it down one inch at a time.

Matthew couldn't decide whether this was pleasure or torture. Every impulse in his body demanded that he jump up and rip the damn thing off of her. As much as he loved everything he did for her the previous night, it had been pure agony not to satisfy his own carnal desires—and there was no way he could do it two nights in a row.

At long last the zipper reached the end of its track and Chanté parted the sheer gown to proudly display her womanly curves to his greedy gaze.
Mine. She's all mine.

“Do you like what you see, my love?”

“No.” Matthew licked his dry lips. “I love what I see.”

Chanté's lips bloomed wide as she allowed the gown to glide off her body. “May I join you on your pillow?”

“You most certainly may.”

She stepped forward and placed each of her long cinnamon-brown legs on opposite sides of his hips, pausing just long enough for him to run his hands against them and enjoy their smoothness. She then lowered her naked body onto his lap and assumed the Yab Yum position.

“Comfortable?” Matthew asked, mainly because if he didn't have on his boxers, they would have been joined together.

“Yes,” she answered, her minty breath blowing softly against his face. “Would my love like some fresh fruit to whet his appetite?”

“Don't mind if I do.”

Chanté reached out to her side and selected a plump strawberry and carefully dipped it into a bowl of chocolate before she brought it to her husband's lips.

As he bit into the juicy fruit, their eyes locked together to do a bit of soul gazing. It was no surprise to Matthew to see so many different layers to his wife. The most dominant trait was her fierce independence, but just below that were layers of uncertainty and even a tinge of vulnerability.

“How is it?” she asked.

An instant smile slid into place. “You know how I feel about chocolate. Both it and the strawberry remind me of you.”

Chanté's cheeks darkened even beneath the low candlelight. “Does that mean that you'd like another bite?”

“Yes, to both.” He took the rest of the strawberry into his mouth while their gazes remained locked. He allowed her to continue hand-feeding him an assortment of fruit and even a few oysters before she offered him a bath.

The routine was similar to the night before with the exception of him trusting her to give him an old-fashioned shave.

“Don't worry, I used to do this all the time with my father,” she assured.

Still, he would have preferred something made in the twenty-first century, but this night was also about developing and deepening their bond of trust. So in the end, he sat still with his head tilted back while his wife shaved him.

“There. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Matthew rubbed his hand against his face and was more than a little impressed. “Wow. I should have had you doing this all along.” He waited until she put the blade down, and then pulled her into the tub.

Chanté yelped and caused a huge wave of soapy water to splash over the tub's rim and flood the floor. “What are you doing?” she giggled and floundered around until she lay flat against his chest and smiled into his handsome face. “You know, all you had to do was ask me to climb in.”

“What—and miss that surprised look on your face?” He blew a cluster of bubbles off the tip of her nose and then leaned in close for a kiss. “I love you.”

Her eyes suddenly glossed with tears and she responded in a shaky whisper. “I love you, too.”

Matthew looped his arm around her small waist and drew her back down for another kiss. He took his time exploring and savoring her hot mouth. Despite the tub's cooling water, he grew hard against her body.

Chanté moaned as she stretched her hand down in between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. With light, feathery strokes, she moved just her fingers up and down and around the tip.

Matthew, lost in a rapture of soft, silky flesh, continued to arch his erection against the loving strokes of her hands. Meanwhile, he roamed his hands lazily down the blades of her shoulder, then kneaded the skin along the planes of her back, and then finally cupped her firm, yet curvy butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She sighed and opened her mouth wider and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue skated over her slick teeth, danced with her tongue, and savored her unique flavor. Nothing on earth tasted this sweet.

He worked his hands in a circular motion—caressing, squeezing and parting her cheeks. In seconds, he set a slow, hypnotic rhythm that Chanté began, rotating her hips to join the fun.

A long groan rumbled in Matthew's chest as his wife's fingers accelerated their strokes and increased his need to be inside of her, but first, he had to make sure she was ready to receive him. Releasing one of her butt cheeks, he glided his soapy hand farther down and then dipped it between the tuft of curly hair between her thighs.

His wife moved as her body quivered against the intimate invasion. Delighted that the slick passageway was just as warm and inviting as her mouth, Matthew navigated another finger inside and began a languid pump.

Chanté stopped rotating her hips and instead rocked against his plunging hand. Almost immediately, her breath became erratic and the soft lapping of the tub's water became just as melodic as the jazz music playing throughout the lodge.

“I need you, baby,” Matthew rasped. “I need you right now.”

“Yes, love.” She moved to climb out of the tub. “Let me get—”

“No. I don't want to get out of the tub.” He took his erection out of her hands and held it up straight up so that the tip poked out of the water. “Slide it in for me, baby.”

Chanté's lustful gaze met his own while a mischievous smile curled her lips. “As you wish.” She reclaimed possession of his hard shaft and inched her body upward and slid her knees to opposite sides of his hips. The porcelain tub made for a tight fit, but she managed the task set before her.

As she eased down his long, throbbing shaft, they moaned together in mutual satisfaction.

Matthew lolled his head back against the tub as he reveled in the unbelievable sensations of her sweet, tight body.

His deep, guttural moans echoed and bounced off the bathroom's tiles as Chanté continued to rise and fall against his powerful thrusts while squeezing her internal muscles. Heavy-lidded, he watched her lustfully through the mesh of his lowered eyelashes and felt his mouth water for the taste of her bountiful breasts bouncing above him.

Pulling up into a sitting position, he pressed her wet body closer, and then drew a pearled nipple into his mouth.

Gasping, she quivered again, but didn't stop rocking her body. As he suckled and polished the black pearl, his wife's hand clawed at his wet back, running her nails over his shoulders and driving him crazy.

With a rarely displayed strength, Matthew planted his feet firmly at the bottom of the bathtub, wrapped an arm around her waist, and propelled their bodies upward with one mighty push from the tub's rim.

Water splashed and ran down from their soapy bodies. Matthew remained careful as he carried his wife out and sloshed through the bathroom. They fell onto the bed not giving a damn about ruining the silk sheets. The only thing that mattered was finishing what they started.

He reentered her body with a long, easy thrust. Her body's warm honey was so unbelievably slick he clamped his teeth together as if it would help him maintain some type of control. Slowly, he moved within her, trying his best to practice restraint but that was shot to hell when Chanté matched his rhythm, thrust for thrust, and then urged him to a faster tempo with her hips.

He was more than accommodating.

Soon, they were rocking at an exhilarating pace and Chanté's cries of pleasure drowned out his own. When she reached the brink of her climax, she tried to inch higher along the bed, but Matthew's hips dogged her trail and he could feel her body explode and tremble around him.

One of her body's tremors detonated his gargantuan climax as he tensed and drove deep, burying his head against her neck and releasing a throaty growl.

Holding him with both her arms and legs, Chanté rocked with him until he quieted and his shaft stopped pulsing. At this moment their bodies and their hearts beat as one. This was how they were meant to be—none of the craziness that had filled their lives in the past few months.