Untamed Bachelors: When He Was Bad... / Interview with a Playboy / The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta. Kathryn Ross
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had her bucking to meet him and gasping his name. She lifted her eyes and his all-dark, all-seeing, all-powerful gaze met hers. And in that stunning singular instant of mutual connection she surrendered freely.
He withdrew, then plunged again, deeper, harder. Closer.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she let him set a rhythm and take her where he would. From the dark erotic realms of her most secret fantasies to the giddy heights of mindless pleasure. She’d never wanted the way she wanted Matt McGregor, never needed anything or anyone the way she needed him at this moment.
He bewildered her. He captivated her.
He lifted her on wings of wonder and sent her soaring. Muttering her name like an oath, he thrust one final time before spinning over the edge and joining her.
Ellie’s body still throbbed with the aftermath of great sex. Her skin still tingled; her breathing was still shallow. In the dimness, with only the moon’s glow casting an oblique path across the carpet, they lay close, but not touching. Not speaking. Her mind was overflowing with jumbled thoughts.
The space Matt had put between them was subtle, but not lost on Ellie. A reminder that what they’d shared was simple lust, nothing more. A diversion. Ride till you come to the end of the road.
They’d reached that point. She’d prepared for that, been ready for it. She’d even initiated it. Yet somewhere along that journey she’d lost a part of herself. To him. Had he noticed? She listened to his breathing become slow and regular as he drifted towards sleep. She hoped not. Good Lord, the last thing she needed was for him to think she expected more than what they’d shared. Sex. Good sex. Very good sex.
That was all.
She sighed into the silence, resisting the urge to curl up against him and reconnect in a physical if not sexual way. To her, intimacy was as important as the sex. But not for Matt.
She reminded herself again that she didn’t expect more. Problem was, she’d never used sex as a diversion for her problems. She didn’t know the etiquette for the morning after. Or the day after. Belle was due back Monday. Then Matt would leave and that would be it. The end. Finito.
And if that hurt and left her feeling empty and alone, she’d have no-one to blame but herself.
Matt stared up at the low-beamed ceiling, resisting the urge to scoop Ellie closer. Already his sex stirred to life. He wanted to tuck her bottom against him and take her from behind—slowly this time, while he—No. Deep slow breaths. He needed to clear the confusion of thoughts and feelings from his mind before he did.
He’d thought once he’d had her, this attraction between them would settle. He’d get on with his life, she with hers. Instead, his response had been…unnerving.
Hell, this whole impulsive idea to bring her here had been a one-off. He’d never brought a woman to his place. Not for sex, not for any reason. His bush home was his private refuge. Belle was the only woman he allowed to get close.
His thoughts shifted to Angela. She’d seemed to be everything he wanted in a woman. Sophisticated, bright and intelligent. Until she’d told him she wanted more than a no-strings relationship. She’d wanted marriage, the house in the ’burbs, the kids and the dog.
She’d wanted the promise of everlasting love.
His fists tightened against the mattress but he forced himself to remain still. He’d been unable to give it to her and he’d had to let her go when she told him she wouldn’t accept less.
What did Ellie want?
She turned towards him in sleep, shifting nearer. Too near. One arm slid over his chest and a breast snugged up against his torso. Intimacy and trust. His body tightened further. He closed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge it. Despite her assertion to the contrary, he had an edgy feeling Ellie wasn’t the kind of woman who’d be satisfied with a fling either. He’d allowed himself to get too close on an emotional level. Dangerously close.
It was a long time before he slept.
THERE really was nothing quite like waking up next to a warm woman on a winter’s morning. Particularly if that woman had hair that smelled of hyacinths and a firm smooth bottom snuggled against his hardening groin.
Unlike last night, the room glowed with a crimson dawn. Rather than the possum party, a couple of kookaburras exchanged a cheery good-morning in the gums outside the window.
But the urgency hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had increased. Again Matt was hit with the same headlong, mind-blowing rush to have her. That same sweet desperation to bury himself inside her.
He fought the feeling down, throwing off the bedclothes, welcoming the cooler air over his heated flesh. He needed to get out of here, away from temptation. She did things to him he didn’t want, didn’t need. ‘Time to rise and shine,’ he said, forcing a brightness he didn’t feel into his voice. ‘Why don’t you take the first shower. I’ll make us some breakfast. I want to be on the road asap.’
‘Okay.’ Ellie half expected him to ask if he could join her, but no matter how attentive he’d been last night and how sensational their lovemaking, she’d sensed the barrier he’d put between them. She told herself it was a relief, not a disappointment. He played it casual, she would too. That’s what they’d agreed to.
From beneath the covers, she watched him stroll naked to the mirrored wardrobe and pull out a thick aubergine dressing gown. That butt was magnificent, no doubt about it. Tight, taut. Tantalisingly touchable. She’d known that, but she’d only seen glimpses. Her imagination had filled in the gaps. Now, seeing him for the first time in all his glory in the full light of day…Then he turned around, and, oh, my…
He was an architectural masterpiece in himself. Hard planes over well-defined muscle, sharp angles that caught the early sunlight filtering through the window and cast navy shadows in dips and hollows. Not to mention all that…that glorious masculinity.
No, not to mention that at all. Swallowing, she struggled to pull her lust-crazed thoughts into some sort of order. Then he stepped into a pair of boxers and her lip-sucking moment was over.
She realised he’d picked up her discarded clothes while she’d been lying here like lady of the manor. He laid them at the foot of the bed with the robe. ‘You’ll find towels in the bathroom.’
‘Thanks.’ That wild fantasy of making him her love slave surfaced and she fought down a blush, but it wouldn’t have mattered because he gave her no more than a glance.
She waited till he’d pulled on jeans before easing herself off the bed, clutching her clothes to her breasts and heading to the bathroom.
Ellie soaped herself up beneath the hot spray with exquisite care, every dab, every glide of her hands over her skin, a reminder of another pair of hands. Her body quite literally sang.
A tiny flash of movement caught her eye through the fogged glass. She cleared a space and saw a black-and-yellow honeyeater flitting in and out of the courtyard’s fernery.
She could get used to this, she thought. Shaking her head she switched off the taps with unnecessary force and reached for a towel. Forget it. Wasn’t going to happen. Wouldn’t know what to do with it if it did.
Because it would end. It always ended.
She tugged at the tangled curls, secured her hair at the back of her head with an elastic this morning and stared at her own face in the mirror. ‘Repeat after me,’ she told her reflection. ‘Don’t be fooled again, Ellie Rose. Guys like Matt aren’t looking for long-term with girls like you.’
Matt had breakfast in the oven and ready to dish up when his mobile rang. ‘Hello.’
‘Matthew.’
He