With Strings Attached (23 page)

Her orgasm crashed over her, full-bodied, head-to-toe waves of pleasure and heat, white hot and burning. She cried out, dug her fingers into Dylan’s shoulders, and cried out again.

“Ah, fuck,” Dylan groaned. “Fuck me, yeah…I’m coming.” His eyes squeezed shut though she could barely see his face through a heated haze, and he pumped up into her in fast hard thrusts and then held her hips, held her down on his shaft, impaling her. He made a strangled noise and she panted, her orgasm stretching out longer with all the stimulation, almost unbearably longer.

“Ah, me…too…” Matt groaned and her ass caught fire as he thrust deeper, harder and pulsed inside the sensitive channel. Tears filled her eyes, blurred her vision as the exquisite pain twisted up inside her into one more climax.

“Omigod,” she cried. “Oh God.”

They stayed like that for a moment full of harsh ragged breathing, Corey’s heart pounding, and then slowly Matt pulled out but still stood behind her, holding her as Dylan eased himself out of her body too. “I got her,” Matt said, his words barely audible through the faint buzzing in her ears. He swept her up into his arms and strode to his bedroom. He lowered her feet to the floor as he dragged back the comforter, then picked her up again and laid her on the bed. He tucked the covers up around her and she snuggled drowsily into the soft bed, surrounded by the scent of Matt. She was left alone, she wasn’t sure how long as she drifted lethargically, but probably only a few minutes, and when both men returned to the bedroom, they brought the cloth, now freshly damp and scented with a coconutty soap, and a towel, and they proceed to wash her gently between her legs and press the towel there. When they slid into the bed, one on either side of her, she felt their damp bareness and knew they’d gotten rid of the condoms and washed up.

Matt drew her back against his chest, her butt to his groin, while Dylan pressed himself to her front, both of them stroking her hair, her shoulders, kissing her face, her neck. She’d never felt so pampered and cherished and special and she sighed with pleasure at their soft touches, her body lax and soft. A girl could get used to this kind of male attention. She opened heavy eyelids and smiled at Dylan, at his beautiful tanned face with silky dark hair falling across his eyes, his strong nose and smiling mouth. She lifted a hand to his cheek, his whiskers scratchy beneath her fingertips. “Thank you,” she murmured. She turned her head, but unable to see Matt’s face, she shifted her body a little until she could. “Thank you too. You guys…” She kind of choked up, a little emotional, fondness for them swelling up huge inside her.

How could she care so much about two guys? This was so weird and yet so, so good. Something she would have to think about, some other time, when her brain was functioning and she didn’t feel like sleep was dragging her under.

Dylan’s body still pulsed, a sweet ache of satisfaction filling him. Wow. Just wow. This was incredible. Corey was incredible. Hell, so was Matt, for that matter, sharing her with him like this. He hadn’t felt so good for a long time.

He watched Corey’s face as she drifted off to sleep, the curve of her mouth, the sweep of long golden eyelashes on her cheeks. So pretty, so gutsy to do this. Wow. Something expanded hot and soft in his chest. He closed his own eyes against the unexpected surge of emotion. What was that? God.

Despite feeling so good, so lethargic and floaty, he fought against the sleep that wanted to claim him, a little nudge of fear deep inside him. What if he had another nightmare? It had been bad enough with Corey last week, never mind Matt too. Embarrassing. He lifted his head and looked at Matt, whose eyes had closed. He seemed to be falling asleep too. Dylan waited, senses alert for the sounds of their breathing, until he was sure they were both asleep, and then he slipped out of the bed and returned to his own room.

Corey would likely stay the night again. He’d see her in the morning. But he couldn’t risk another humiliating nightmare happening with her. In his own bed, he stacked his hands behind his head as he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling.

The nightmares had tapered off in the weeks following the accident, realistic nightmares reliving the incident that left him sweaty and gasping for air in the middle of the night. He had no fucking idea why that had happened again the other night with Corey. It pissed him off. Supremely. It was weak and…stupid.

He hadn’t told Corey and Matt everything that had happened, had made it sound like your everyday header off the board, which had hit his foot and broken a couple of bones. But it hadn’t gone down exactly like that. He had no intention of talking about it, but he was getting more and more uptight and scared with every day that passed and got him closer to going back on the tour. He knew he had to go for the physical therapy, knew he had to work out to get his strength and flexibility and balance back, but making himself go to that clinic and that gym every day was a huge effort. He felt the panic bubbling way down inside him, along with fear that it was going to erupt out of him and he was going to lose control and make a bloody fool of himself somehow.

In bed with Corey, it seemed emotions came closer to the surface and that was dangerous. Yet she made him feel so damn good, too, better than the best anti-anxiety med the doctors had given him, which he’d quickly abandoned. The confusion of all those almost out-of-control emotions was making him nuts. He wanted to get out of there, get back on his board, get back to the tour, get back to his life. Yet, he was so fucking terrified the thought of it almost paralyzed him, made it hard to breathe, and he wanted to just hold onto Corey and stay with her forever.

Chapter Fifteen

Matt stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom the next week and adjusted his tie. Christ, he hated wearing suits and ties, but he and Corey were going out. Not that that in itself was cause to wear a suit and tie. He grinned at his reflection. They were attending a fundraising event that evening, one they’d both been involved in and had contributed to. And now Dylan was going too, since he was there.

The event had been organized to raise money for a new homeless shelter. It had been Corey’s idea to get involved and she’d gotten Matt on board. It was to be an evening of tastings, featuring beers from Matt’s microbrewery, wines from a local winery, artisanal cheeses from a local cheese shop and Corey’s chocolates. Other businesses had donated prizes for a silent auction. The mayor and a lot of the town’s bigwigs would be there, schmoozing and spending money. It was for a good cause, and Matt was happy to participate, though he knew he might not have if it hadn’t been for Corey.

The first time she’d stopped to give money to a guy on the street, way back when they were both in college and didn’t have a lot of money to give away to anyone, he’d given her hell for throwing away cash, giving it to some bum who was likely going to use it to buy booze or cigarettes, and who should just get a job. She’d turned on him in a fury, told him he had no idea what it was like to live on the streets, told him how many homeless people were people with mental illness who’d fallen through the cracks in the system, and weren’t even capable of finding a job, never mind actually holding one down, people who just needed help, and giving them a few dollars was the least they could do. She’d torn a strip off him about how he shouldn’t judge people and then burst into tears, and that was when he’d heard the story of how she’d run away from her foster family with nowhere to go and had lived on the streets.

Yeah, his throat had tightened up when she’d told him that, when he’d heard how scared and alone she’d been, when he thought about how vulnerable and in danger she had been, and since then he always dropped some money into a homeless person’s hat or guitar case or whatever.

He shrugged into his suit jacket and left his bedroom.

“Dylan, you ready to go?” he called.

“I’m not going.” Dylan’s voice came from the living room.

Matt headed that way. “Huh?”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

Matt grinned. “You sound like a girl.”

“Seriously, dude. All I have is shorts and jeans. Look at you, all duded up.”

“You can borrow something from me. We’re the same size.”

Dylan scrunched up his face. “I guess.”

“If you don’t want to go, just say so.”

“But Corey’s going to be there.”

Matt pursed his lips. “Yup. She is. And you told her you’d be there.”

“I already bought a ticket. That should be good enough.”

“Come on.” Matt turned and strode back to his bedroom. He flicked on the light again and crossed the room to his closet. He pulled out a pair of black dress pants and a gray and black sports jacket. He turned to Dylan, who’d followed him. “Here. You can wear a black T-shirt under the jacket, that’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I hate shirts and ties.”

“Me too.” Matt gave a long-suffering sigh. “But you gotta do what you gotta do. Get ready, we need to leave, like, now.”

Moments later they were in Matt’s Jeep and headed to pick up Corey at her place. “You can wait here,” Matt told Dylan, to save him limping up the stairs. “We’ll be right back.” He hurried to Corey’s door, where she was just coming out, obviously having been watching for them. She locked her door then turned to face him.

Holy hell.

His jaw went slack and his heart stuttered to a halt at the sight of her. He stood there and stared.

She’d always been a casual sort of girl, jeans and T-shirts, not much makeup. And yeah, he’d seen her dressed up before. But now…wow. The short black dress she wore hugged her curves, ending just above her knees. She had incredible legs, he knew that, but somehow seeing them in a dress made them seem long and slender and super sexy. His eyes dropped to the spiky black heels she wore. That might be why, too—killer heels that had him swallowing hard. He dragged his gaze back up over her body, taking in the wide neckline and tiny sleeves of the dress and then her face—shadowy eyes and shiny lips. Wow.

She tucked her key into a little purse she carried and her cheeks reddened as she underwent his appraisal. “Do I look okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Jesus, Corey. You look incredible.” He held out his arm and she smiled and took it, then he escorted her down the short sidewalk to the street. He opened the Jeep door for her and she climbed in with some difficulty in the tight, narrow skirt. He gulped again as she swung her legs in.

From the back seat, Dylan said, “Holy crap, Corey, you look smokin’ hot.”

“Thank you.” She tugged the dress down a little. “I’m not used to heels and a dress.” She made a face. “I don’t know how long these shoes will last, I’ll probably be going barefoot in about an hour.”

Matt eyed the shoes as he put the vehicle in gear. “Those are nice shoes,” he said with heartfelt admiration.

Matt let her and Dylan off at the front door of the San Amaro Hilton, and then decided to splurge on valet parking. He tossed the keys to one of the guys working there and entered the hotel with them. They made their way to the ballroom where the fundraiser was being held and stood in a short line to get in.

“Fancy digs,” Dylan said, looking around.

The ballroom had been decorated with black and silver balloons and streamers. Tables draped in black fabric topped with candles flickering in wineglasses were arranged throughout the room for people to stand at, as well as several groupings of leather couches and chairs on the perimeter of the room. The tasting stations had all been set up and already people were eating and drinking and mingling. A quartet of musicians in the back corner of the room played smooth jazz music.

“I have to find Amanda,” Corey said, looking around. “Her parents said they’d drop her off here right at seven. Oh! There she is.” She waved a hand. Matt spotted the teenager at the entrance. Instead of her usual skinny black jeans and black T-shirts and studded belts, she’d put on a dress. Black, of course, but even with the heavy rings of black makeup around her eyes she looked pretty. “I’ll go get her set up,” she said. “And then we can mingle a bit.”

“Need any help?” Matt asked.

“No, I think I’m good.” She started off toward Amanda and he couldn’t help but watch her sweet little ass move in that snug dress. He sighed.

Matt had asked for staff volunteers from the brew pub to man the beer tasting so he was free to mingle, and Corey had asked Amanda to help out so she wasn’t stuck there all evening too. “Let’s find a beer,” he said to Dylan.

They checked on the Laguna Dorada booth and picked up beers, then wandered through to investigate the prizes for the silent auction. Matt stopped and talked to people he knew, introducing Dylan, who naturally got lots of interest from the females.

“You know everybody in town, dude,” Dylan said to him.

“Not quite.” Matt grinned.

A while later, he frowned. “Where did Corey get to? I thought she was just checking on Amanda.” He craned his neck. “Oh, there she is.” She was stalking toward them with a glass of wine in her hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the way her forehead was furrowed and her lips pressed together.

She took a gulp of her wine. “Amanda.”

Matt frowned. “What? She’s here, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s here, but she’s upset about something that happened at school. Again.”

“Oh.” Did he want to hear about it? Probably not.