Page 6 of To Her

Geri

I was just drifting off to sleep, my mind still replaying the events of the night—Matt's smile, his hands, the way his lips felt against mine—when a soft knock on my door pulled me back to consciousness.

For a moment, I thought I'd imagined it. But then it came again, slightly more insistent this time.

I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face. "Who is it?" I called softly, though I already had a suspicion.

"It's Matt," came the reply, his voice low and slightly hesitant. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

My heart immediately kicked into overdrive. I glanced down at myself—I'd changed into sleep shorts and a tank top, not exactly what I'd choose for entertaining a guy I'd just met, but not embarrassingly bad either.

"Just a second," I said, climbing out of bed and padding to the door.

When I opened it, I nearly swallowed my tongue.

Matt stood in the hallway wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

The tattoos I'd admired earlier continued across his chest and down his torso, intricate designs flowing over the contours of his muscles.

And there were a lot of muscles. The man clearly worked out religiously—broad shoulders, defined pecs, abs you could grate cheese on, and thighs that strained against the fabric of his underwear.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, seemingly unaware of the effect his near-nakedness was having on me. "I, uh... I couldn't sleep."

"Scared of the dark?" I teased, finding my voice.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Terrified. Can I come in?"

I hesitated for only a second before stepping aside. Fuck it, I thought. Why the hell not? It had been two months of celibacy after Ben, and here was this gorgeous man practically gift-wrapped on my doorstep. Two weeks and he'd be gone—what harm could one night do?

"Nice room," he said as he stepped inside, though his eyes never left mine.

"It's not mine," I reminded him, closing the door softly. "Just borrowing it."

"Still." He glanced around at the plush furnishings, the king-sized bed with its rumpled sheets. "Better than a hotel."

We stood there for a moment, the air between us charged with possibility. I was acutely aware of my body's reaction to his presence—the quickening of my pulse, the heat pooling low in my belly, the way my skin seemed hypersensitive even though he wasn't touching me.

"I should probably apologize," Matt said finally, running a hand through his already-tousled hair. "This is... I don't usually do this. Show up at a woman's door in the middle of the night."

"And yet here you are," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, partly to appear nonchalant and partly to hide the fact that my nipples had hardened against the thin fabric of my tank top.

"Here I am," he agreed. His eyes darkened as they dropped briefly to my crossed arms before returning to my face. "I can go if you want."

"Do I look like I want you to go?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Hard to tell. You're a bit of a mystery, Geri."

"Says the guy who showed up at my door in his underwear."

He laughed, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. "Fair point."

Another moment of silence stretched between us, but this one was different—less uncertain, more anticipatory.

"You're possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Matt said suddenly, his voice dropping to a register that made my stomach flip.

Before I could respond—before I could even process the sincerity in his eyes—he closed the distance between us, one hand coming up to cup my face. "Can I kiss you again?"

In answer, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was different from our earlier ones—more urgent, less restrained.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against his body, and I could feel every hard plane of muscle against my softer curves.

My hands explored the expanse of his back, tracing the lines of his tattoos, feeling the way his muscles shifted beneath my touch.

When his tongue swept into my mouth, I moaned, the sound swallowed by our kiss.

His hands slid down to my hips, gripping firmly before one ventured lower to cup my ass.

The move pulled me even closer, and I could feel his arousal pressing against my stomach, impressive even through the barrier of his boxers.

"Bed," I gasped when we broke apart for air. "Now."

He didn't need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he lifted me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he carried me the few steps to the bed. He laid me down gently, following me down but supporting his weight on his forearms.

"You're sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

"I'm sure," I said, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "Are you?"

His answer was another kiss, this one slower but no less intense.

His body covered mine, a delicious weight that made me feel both protected and desired.

I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his arms, marvelling at the strength there, at the contrast between his hard body and the gentleness of his touch.

When his lips left mine to trail down my neck, I tilted my head back, giving him better access. He took full advantage, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, finding spots that made my breath catch and lingering there.

"You smell amazing," he murmured against my collarbone. "Like vanilla and something else... something just you."

His hands slid under my tank top, calloused palms rough against my smooth skin. When his thumbs brushed the undersides of my breasts, I arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, tugging gently at the hem of my top.

I nodded, sitting up slightly to help him remove it. The cool air of the room pebbled my nipples further, and Matt's sharp intake of breath was gratifyingly ego-boosting.

"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes roaming over my exposed chest. "You're perfect."

Before I could protest—I was far from perfect, with my small breasts and the scar on my ribs from a childhood accident—he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core, and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.

He lavished attention on one breast and then the other, alternating between gentle suction and teasing flicks of his tongue. His hand came up to caress whichever breast wasn't receiving the attention of his mouth, ensuring neither was neglected.

I was writhing beneath him, my hips seeking friction against his, when he suddenly pulled back. For a moment, I thought he'd changed his mind, but then he looked at me with such intensity that my breath caught.

"I'm not going to fuck you tonight," he said, his voice rough with desire.

Disappointment flooded me, followed quickly by confusion. "You're not?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "No. But I am going to make you feel good." His hand trailed down my stomach, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of my shorts. "If that's okay with you?"

The heat in his gaze made his intentions clear, and a fresh wave of arousal washed over me. "Yes," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. "That's... yes."

His smile widened as he began to move down my body, pressing kisses to my sternum, my ribs, the soft skin of my stomach. When he reached the waistband of my shorts, he looked up at me, seeking final confirmation.

I lifted my hips in answer, and he slowly pulled both my shorts and underwear down my legs, his eyes never leaving mine. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable, but the appreciation—the hunger—in his gaze made me feel powerful instead.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, settling between my thighs. His broad shoulders pushed my legs further apart, and I felt a moment of nervousness. It had been a while since anyone had been this... close.

As if sensing my hesitation, Matt pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of my thigh. "We can stop anytime," he said. "Just say the word."

I shook my head. "Don't stop."

He smiled against my skin, then continued his path of kisses up my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where I was aching for him. When he finally reached his destination, he paused, his warm breath teasing me.

"I've been wanting to taste you since the moment I saw you," he said, his voice low and intimate.

And then his mouth was on me, his tongue making a long, slow sweep that had me gasping and clutching at the sheets. He hummed in appreciation, the vibration adding another layer of sensation.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he murmured, before diving back in with renewed enthusiasm.

What followed was the most thorough, attentive oral sex I'd ever experienced.

Matt seemed to genuinely enjoy what he was doing, making appreciative noises that sent vibrations through my core.

He alternated between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on my clit, reading my body's responses and adjusting accordingly.

When he slid one finger inside me, curling it to hit exactly the right spot, I nearly came off the bed. "Oh god," I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily.

He added a second finger, maintaining the perfect rhythm as he continued to work me with his tongue. "That's it," he encouraged between licks. "So responsive... so fucking sexy."

The combination of his skilled mouth, his fingers, and his words was pushing me rapidly toward the edge. I could feel the tension building, my thighs beginning to tremble on either side of his head.

"Matt," I warned, one hand tangling in his hair. "I'm close."

He redoubled his efforts, his fingers pumping steadily as his tongue circled my clit with increasing pressure. "Come for me," he urged. "Let me feel you come on my tongue."