Page 20

"I'm sorry," he murmured into my damp hair. "I fucked up."

"Yeah, you did," I agreed, but there was no heat in it.

He pulled back slightly to look at me, his hands coming up to cup my face. "Can I make it up to you?"

The sincerity in his eyes made my stomach flip. "You can try," I said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and sent a flutter of warmth through my chest. "Challenge accepted."

And then he was kissing me, his lips soft but insistent against mine, and I was kissing him back, all my anger and hurt dissolving under the heat of his touch. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, then his hair, while his slid down to my waist, pulling me closer.

I was acutely aware of how little separated us—just a towel and his clothes—and from the way his breath hitched when my body pressed against his, he was thinking the same thing.

"Your room or the spare?” he murmured against my lips.

"Mine's closer," I replied, already backing toward my door, unwilling to break contact for even a second.

We stumbled into my room, a tangle of limbs and increasingly urgent kisses. The towel was becoming a problem, threatening to slip with every movement, but before I could worry about it, Matt had me pressed against the closed door, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs.

"Jump," he commanded softly, and I did, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifted me effortlessly.

The new position brought us into perfect alignment, and I couldn't help the small gasp that escaped me when I felt his arousal pressing against me through his jeans. He groaned in response, his lips leaving mine to trail down my neck, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear that made my toes curl.

"Matt," I breathed, not even sure what I was asking for.

He seemed to understand anyway, carrying me to the bed and laying me down with surprising gentleness given the urgency of our kisses. He stood back for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as they roamed over me.

The towel had come loose in our journey to the bed, leaving me exposed to his gaze. In any other circumstance, with anyother man, I might have felt self-conscious. But the way Matt looked at me—like I was something precious, something to be savoured—made me feel powerful instead.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice rough with want. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"Then why didn't you call?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, vulnerability bleeding through despite my best efforts.

He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. "Because I'm an idiot," he said simply. "Because I got caught up in army stuff and lost track of time, and then I convinced myself you weren't interested because you hadn't called me."

"I was waiting for you to call," I admitted. "And when you didn't, I thought..."

"What?" he prompted when I trailed off.

"I thought maybe you'd gotten what you wanted and moved on." The words felt small and pathetic as they left my mouth, but they were honest.

Matt's expression softened. "Geri, what happened between us the other night? That was just the beginning of what I want from you."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tight. "What do you want from me?"

"Everything you're willing to give," he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my lips. "For as long as we have."

The reminder of his impending departure hung between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore. Two weeks. That was all we had. Two weeks to explore whatever this was, to satisfy the hunger that had been building since the moment we met.

"Then you better stop wasting time," I said, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

He grinned, helping me pull it over his head to reveal the tattooed expanse of his chest and abs. I ran my hands over his skin, tracing the lines of ink, marvelling at the contrast between the hard planes of muscle and the softness of his lips as they returned to mine.

His jeans followed quickly, then his boxers, until there was nothing between us but skin and heat and the electric current of desire that had been building since New Year's Eve.

This time, when his mouth moved down my body, I knew what to expect—and yet the reality still exceeded my memory. He took his time, exploring every inch of me with lips and tongue and gentle teeth, finding spots that made me gasp and arch and beg for more.

But unlike our first night together, this wasn't one-sided. This time, when I reached for him, he didn't stop me. This time, when I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, he let me take control, his eyes never leaving mine as I positioned myself above him.