Page 10 of To Her

He was right in front of me now, close enough that I could smell his cologne and see the genuine regret in his eyes. "Shit, babe, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I was so busy I forgot and then blamed you."

Before I could respond, he wrapped his arms around me, towel and all. I stood rigid for a moment, torn between the desire to push him away and the equally strong urge to melt into his embrace.

The latter won out. I relaxed against him, letting my head rest on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"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 any other 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.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hands steady on my waist.

In answer, I sank down onto him, taking him inside me in one slow, deliberate movement that had us both moaning. The feeling of fullness, of connection, was almost overwhelming after so long without.

"Fuck," Matt breathed, his fingers digging into my hips. "You feel amazing."

I couldn't form words, could only nod as I began to move, finding a rhythm that had him hitting just the right spot with every thrust. His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples in a way that sent sparks of pleasure straight to my core.

When he sat up, changing the angle and bringing us chest to chest, I gasped at the new sensation. His arms wrapped around me, supporting me as I continued to ride him, our bodies moving together as if we'd been doing this for years instead of minutes.

"Look at me," he murmured, and I did, our eyes locking as the tension built. "I want to see you come."

His words, combined with the way he was touching me, pushed me closer to the edge. I could feel it building, that familiar tightening, that crescendo of pleasure.

"Matt," I warned, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.

"Let go," he urged, one hand sliding between us to where we were joined, his thumb finding my clit with unerring accuracy. "I've got you."

The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, intense and all-consuming. I cried out, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed over me. He held me through it, murmuring encouragement, his own movements becoming more urgent as he chased his release.

When he came moments later, my name on his lips like a prayer, I felt a different kind of connection—something beyond the physical, something that scared me with its intensity.

We collapsed together onto the bed, a tangle of sweaty limbs and satisfied sighs. Matt pulled me close, arranging us so that my head rested on his chest, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my ear.

"Worth the wait?" he asked after a while, his voice tinged with amusement.

I laughed softly. "Maybe. But let's not wait so long next time."

"Deal." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Though for the record, I still don't like that you made a Tinder account."

"For the record, I didn't make it. James did." I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him. "And you have no right to be jealous. We barely know each other."

"I know enough," he said, his expression suddenly serious. "I know that I like you, Geri. More than I should, given the circumstances."

The circumstances. Right. His departure, looming over us like a shadow.

"So what do we do?" I asked, voicing the question that had been nagging at me since New Year's Eve. "What is this?"

He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare shoulder. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I just know I want to spend as much time with you as possible before I go."

It wasn't a declaration of love. It wasn't a promise of forever. But it was honest, and right now, that was all I could ask for.

"Okay," I said, settling back against his chest. "But you have to actually call when you say you will."

I felt rather than saw his smile. "I promise."

As we lay there in the quiet of my room, I tried not to think about the countdown clock ticking away in the back of my mind. Twelve days left. Twelve days to explore whatever this was between us, to satisfy the hunger that seemed to grow rather than diminish with each touch.

Twelve days until goodbye.

But for now, in the warmth of Matt's arms, with the pleasant ache of satisfaction still humming through my body, I decided that was a problem for future Geri. Present Geri was going to enjoy every moment she could get.