One Blazing Night (12 page)

“I don't dance,” she said.

“Please.”

“They're all dancing the waltz or something. I don't know any of that stuff,” Sam said, realizing too late she should have warned him before she agreed to come. “I bet you do, though.”

“I do not.”

“Liar. Isn't ballroom dancing part of those etiquette classes all rich kids have to take?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, okay, I know how. Come on, Sam. Do you trust me?”

“No. Not at all.”

He grinned as he took her hand and brought her onto the dance floor. He lifted both her arms so they came around his shoulders; then he slid his hands behind her back. “This is easy, Sammy,” he said, his voice warm and close. “Everyone knows the high school shuffle, right?”

She couldn't help but laugh. Yes, she'd done this at an excruciating party when she was twelve, but dancing with Matt was completely different. While everyone around them was doing fancy moves and impressive dips, she held on tighter and tighter until they were chest to chest, heart to heart, forehead to forehead, swaying in the corner to the sound of their own music.

It was the most perfect night ever.

12

T
HE
MUSIC
STOPPED
, but Matt and Sam didn't, at least not right away. Finally, he reluctantly pulled back and said, “You about ready to leave?”

“I don't think the party's over.” She glanced around at the crowd and gave him a pained look. “You want to leave because of my big mouth, don't you?”

“I hope you know I like you
because
you're insane, not in spite of it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Seriously, I was kind of rude to that CEO—”

“Sam, I do want to leave because of you, but not because of anything you've said.” He moved away from their light embrace only to take her hand and bring it to his mouth. The scent of her skin had been driving him crazy since he'd whisked her away to the alcove. It was an extraordinary feeling to be with her like this. Yet another way of looking at his Sammy. She'd been utterly herself tonight, only dressed up like Cinderella.

“I'm not sure how long I can keep my hands off you. I want to be done with all this and put all my focus on making you come.”

It never failed to amaze him that Sam's blush could go from zero to sixty in seconds. She swept a nervous gaze from her left to her right. He just smiled and waited for her response. Of course, he'd already made sure he couldn't be heard.

“I lied to your parents,” she said. “Their son isn't so remarkable after all. He's a very wicked young man. Maybe I should go set them straight.”

Her earnest-looking frown didn't worry him. Her sense of humor still made him grin. “Okay, we're definitely leaving,” he said, taking her arm.

“Wait.” She started laughing and tugged free. “You want me to fall on my butt? I'm not used to these skyscraper heels. Besides, I need to go to the restroom before we go.”

“Would you like me to go with you, in case I have to catch that very delectable derriere?”

“No.” She pointed to the bar near the exit. “I'll meet you there.”

“Got it.” He watched her walk away. The sheer fabric that swirled around her legs made it difficult for him to keep his composure. Too bad he couldn't have watched her from a distance while keeping her close. Both views were terrific.

She disappeared, and the first person Matt saw was his uncle Frank. Jesus. Not only did Frank want him to kiss up to the three holdouts on the board, he wanted Matt to use Frank's script to do so. The only good that had come of that little meeting with him earlier was finding out that the board meeting had been moved up two hours.

What it had also done was remind him that he hadn't thought about the board, or London, in days. He'd been too busy thinking about Sam.

For the first time since the carrot of running the London office had been dangled in front of him, Matt wasn't feeling entirely positive about the job. The idea of putting the Atlantic Ocean between him and Sam made him uncomfortable. It was crazy. They'd seen each other a few times over the course of the past week. Not nearly often enough for him to have any thoughts that would impact his career.

He'd probably wake up tomorrow and be back to his old self. The London office was his, and while he wouldn't grovel to get it, he had gone to some extreme lengths to win the prize. He'd wanted it so badly.

“Where's your girl?”

His father joined him in this out-of-the-way spot.

“In the ladies' room.”

“Your mother is very pleased with the fund-raising tonight. I know she'd like to brag about it to you. And it looks as if Bannister and Lee are coming around to your side of the fence. Now that they've had time to digest the Tokyo hotel deal, they're seeing you in a different light.”

“I've done deals like this before.”

“That's part of it. You've consistently done good work, Matthew, and it's being noticed. Oh, and your sister is upset you haven't brought your girlfriend to meet her.”

“She's not—”

“Speaking of which,” his father continued, “bringing Ms. O'Connel to the party was a very clever move. Choosing brains over beauty for once? Well played. I think you impressed a lot of people here tonight. They're finally acknowledging that you're invested in building the company, not just waiting to get your trust fund.”

Matt stared at his father. “That's what you think?”

“About the trust fund?”

“About why I brought Sam.” Matt took a quick look around to make sure she wasn't within hearing range. “Politics had nothing to do with me bringing her here tonight, but just hearing that makes me wish I hadn't.”

“Don't be a fool, Matthew. Whether you meant it isn't as important as how it was perceived.”

Just as Matt was about to slam a hole straight through that theory, his father smiled at someone behind Matt's shoulder. He knew without looking that it was Sam.

“I was hoping you'd return before I had to go,” Charles said. “Matthew's mother and sister would love to see you again.”

Before Sam could utter a word, Matt took her hand in his. “Sorry. We'll catch them another time. We're leaving.”

“So soon?” His father looked stunned, then angry. “We haven't had the finale yet. There's still the cake and the annual fund-raising report.”

“Sorry. I'm sure everyone will forgive my absence this one year. I'll see you on Monday.”

“Matthew.”

He started walking away, Sam following at his side, but then Matt remembered something. “One sec.” He turned back to his father, pulling Sam's check out of his pocket. “Give this to Mom, would you? I'm sure she'll be a lot more forgiving once she sees it.”

The orchestra started playing an old Beatles song, drowning out most of the noise in the room, but Matt could have sworn he heard his father sputtering. It didn't matter. Matt was mad enough to spit, but he didn't for a second regret bringing Sam. People should have looked at him enviously, but not for the wrong reasons.

Hell, there wasn't a woman at the gala who could hold a candle to Sam.

* * *

S
AM
CLOSED
HER
eyes and let her head drop back as Matt loosened her skirt and let it sink to her ankles. He'd taken such care with her belt and peplum top.

Now she was wearing just her heels and her tiny panties in the middle of his bedroom at the apartment.

Closing her eyes had been an attempt at letting everything fall away except this moment.

But she couldn't release the sound of Matt's father's words. How clever Matt had been to bring her. Choosing brains over beauty.

It hurt on so many levels.

She hated to think Matt had ulterior motives in inviting her to the gala. But the fact that he'd asked her at all was odd. So, if it was politically motivated, did that negate the wonderful experience?

No. Of course not. Why shouldn't he have made some political headway with her? It would have been fine
if
he'd told her. But he hadn't, and she wished now that she'd heard more of the conversation instead of doing a lap back to the restroom before joining them.

“Sammy? You okay?”

Matt's voice broke through her unsettling thoughts. When she opened her eyes, the star-filled galaxy above her head soothed her.

“I'm fine,” she said, trying to make it true. “Just letting everything wash over me.”

“I'd like to help with that, if you'll just step away from that poofy skirt.”

“It's not poof. It's chiffon.”

He gave her a look. “As if you knew that before this afternoon.”

She smiled, and that was genuine. But she still needed a moment. “I'll be happy to step away, but before we get this rolling, could you please bring us some water? I think I had too much champagne. I'm going to get some aspirin. I hate waking up with a headache.”

“I should have thought of that,” he said. “Although leaving you isn't easy.” With a quick dart of a kiss, he went to the door, already stripped down to his black boxer briefs.

Her view was outstanding.

Sadly, as soon as he was gone from her sight, her stupid brain spilled a big mess inside her. Everything had been so perfect. She'd let herself believe his invitation to the ball had been romantic.

Oh, God. She wasn't just walking toward a heartbreak; she was already there.

It was supposed to have been a fling. At twenty-nine, she should have known better. Yes, a person couldn't help whom he or she loved, but a person could also walk away before that love had a chance to blossom. For all she knew, tonight might be her last with him. The gala was over, and tomorrow he was most likely going to go stay at the hotel because the board meeting was on Monday. And by Monday night, he would have used up his reasons to stay in Boston. Matt traveled extensively. His home base was New York, but his office was the world.

Regardless of whether or not this was their last night together, she was going to make sure it was the best night she'd ever had. There was no reason for her to worry about falling for him. That die had been cast. Yes, she would have a hard time getting over him, and life would be miserable for a while. But he was here now. She had him tonight. She might as well get the most out of it.

Love him as if he loved her back.

It took barely a minute to retrieve the aspirin from the bathroom, and when she returned to the bedroom, Matt was already there with a couple of water bottles and a bowl of red grapes. The way he looked at her, as if he wanted to remember every last little thing about her, made her shivery inside. He looked hungry for her. Starved. And his briefs didn't do anything to hide his thickening cock.

“I can't decide if I want to strip those panties off with my teeth or keep them on and do wicked things to them.”

She wiggled her butt a bit, knowing her blush was painting her pink from her chest up. “You know, in those tight black briefs, you look like a superhero. Not the Hulk. More like Captain America or Thor.”

“Stop. I've already got a swelled head from having you as my date tonight. Besides, I've made my decision about your panties.”

She sighed, determined to take the compliment at face value and excited to see what would come next. “Show me.”

He was nude before she finished the last word and headed toward her. His steps were slow and his gaze calculating. She felt pinned to the spot. Everything about him screamed a delicious kind of danger.

When he got to her, he moved in close enough for her to feel his heat. His hand went to the back of her head, then into her hair, as they met in a kiss. Their bodies weren't touching yet. Just their lips and her head in his hand, and when his tongue thrust into her mouth, she forgot about the hand.

God. She'd miss his kisses. Deep and intense, they left little time for breathing. It felt as if she was being claimed. And when he pressed against her, his free hand on the small of her back, she felt that amazing connection of theirs. Sam held on, dizzy and weak in the knees.

His cock eventually pressed against her tummy. He maneuvered them to the bed, where they pushed the covers down and found their pillows. Finally, she was in his arms.

“You take my breath away,” he said. “With your Rita Hayworth hair, and knowing you were braless under that gown... Jesus, you almost did me in.”

“You weren't so bad yourself.”

“Stay tonight,” he said.

She tensed. Of course he must have felt it. The way his smile dimmed made her want to change her mind. “We'll see,” she said. Then she kissed him. Hard.

When it was breathe or die, she gasped and leaned over to the bedside table to grab a condom. Then she took hold of his erection. It was his turn to gasp. “You're very, very hard,” she said.

“That's your fault.”

“You want me to...?” She stroked him. “I have these painted nails. They look pretty nice when I do this.”

Matt groaned. “Just imagining that makes me want to come. So wait. Better stop, okay?”

She sighed dramatically but let him go. Only to tease him mercilessly while putting the condom on.

Quick as a wink, he was between her thighs, bracing himself above her. “I want you. So much. I'm going to miss this like crazy.”

Looking away, she clamped her eyes shut, willing the lump in her throat to go away. Before he could call her out, she reached between them to guide him, her legs loosely around his waist.

“Sam? Wait a second. Oh, damn.”

She'd rubbed the head of his cock against her wet heat. His groan was deep and rough, and it was easy enough to get him centered.

He pushed in. But not fast, as she'd expected. With gentle fingers, he urged her to look at him again.

When he gazed into her eyes, it was as deep a bond as she'd ever felt. As if they'd stripped away everything else in the whole world, leaving the two of them raw and naked.

“I didn't expect this,” he whispered.

“Expect what?”

“You.”

“I'm still just Sam.”

“Oh, no,” he said, moving a bit now. Plunging deeper. “You're so much more. I'm fascinated by you, Samantha O'Connel. The way you think, the sound of your laughter. Your obsession with everything vintage while you're on the cutting edge of tech. The way you stood up for me tonight. I wasn't kidding when I said you were terrific. I was proud, and glad, and I ached to be right here.”

Her nails, silver and sparkly, dug into his back, making him raise his head and hiss.

“Jesus.”

“You,” she said, pressing her thighs against him, preparing for his next move, “made every...” She lost the sentence. It was a compliment, but she'd have to tell him later.

“I made every what?”

She shook her head and raised her hips to meet his thrust. “You were awesome.”

“No, you were—” Cut short by his own groan, he was pumping now, pulling almost all the way out, then driving back in again like a steam engine. As if he wasn't in control of his own movements.