Playing With Fire (6 page)

She'd never seen Joey like this. Her racing heart beat with a new and different cadence, spiking at irregular intervals. She tiptoed closer, anticipation doubling with each step. At the edge of the bed, she paused to let the sight of him fill her senses. Her nipples tingled in response. A brush of her fingertips confirmed their aroused state.

He was so beautiful, like a slumbering Greek god. Why hadn't she noticed this quality in him before? Were today's events responsible for the change in her, or something else? Her fears evaporated, leaving a void which was quickly filled with the heat of sexual excitement. No longer hesitant, Lindsay dropped the raincoat on the floor, lifted the sheet and eased into bed beside Joey. The mattress rocked slightly beneath her weight. He moaned, but otherwise remained oblivious.

His warmth instantly enveloped her, soothing, yet at the same time, heightening her awareness of him. She inhaled the clean scent of his freshly showered skin. Felt the springy hair on his calf as she rubbed her leg up and down his. Heard the heavy, regular breathing which told her he continued to sleep soundly.

Lindsay almost laughed. She lay next to a man who was completely unaware of her existence, yet she'd never been so turned on in all her life.

Because she wanted to touch him, she did, and watched her fingers dance along the hard line of his shoulders. He shifted and mumbled something unintelligible, but didn't wake up. She snuggled closer, pressing her aching breasts into his back and placing a soft kiss on the side of his neck.

Another bolt of lightning flashed, only this one from inside her. Jagged currents of electricity raced to her extremities, splintering off into a thousand highly-charged particles. Lindsay moved against Joey's back, instinctively knowing what to do whereas minutes ago, she'd had no clue. Her hand snaked around his waist and caressed the rigid plane of his stomach.

"Hello, lover."

She sensed the instant he came awake and stayed perfectly still, waiting for his response. She didn't wait long.

In the same amount of time it took her to whisper the endearment, he rolled over and pinned her beneath him, sliding his erection up and down the front panel of her v-panty.

"It's really you,” he said in a sleep-thickened voice. “I thought I was dreaming."

He gave her no chance to respond before bringing his mouth down on hers with a blinding, explosive force. The kiss, hot, urgent, and deliciously wicked, rocked her world to its very foundation.

Oh, she wanted more of this. Much, much more. It was as if they'd never kissed before. And they hadn't, really. Not like this.

His chest hair—she didn't remember him having so much—tickled the tops of her breasts. Later, when the madness currently consuming her passed, she'd explore that part of him further. For now, she looped her arms around his neck and lifted her hips to meet and match the rhythmic motion of his. Bracketing her face with his hands, he held her steady so their tongues could tangle. Stroke. Savor. He tasted faintly of toothpaste and something else unfamiliar to her. Lindsay, however, was too overcome by an avalanche of sensations to pay any attention.

Impossible as it seemed, his erection grew larger, pressing into the exposed flesh of her belly. Tiny sighs caught in her throat, coming out as anxious mews. She yearned to have him inside her. But not yet. First, she'd enjoy the feel of his hungry mouth and skilled hands learning every inch of her body. And after that, she'd reciprocate.

Some things were simply too good to rush.

Ending the kiss, he nibbled and nipped his way down the column of her neck to her cleavage. A cleavage she had, thanks to the amazing powers of the bustier. His hands followed, cupping her breasts, his thumbs kneading the pliant undersides.

Lindsay jerked when he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on the pearlized tip through the translucent material of the bustier.

"Mmm.” She arched her back, but it wasn't enough. Driving her fingers into his short-cropped hair, she pulled him closer ... and went suddenly rigid.

Short? Joey wore his wavy hair long, past his ears to his shirt collar.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this,” murmured a voice too deep, too husky for Joey.

An alarm clanged inside Lindsay's head, penetrating the dense mist surrounding her brain.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

A feeling of unreality washed over Lindsay, as if she'd entered the room of mirrors in a carnival fun house.

"No.” She pushed back, digging her heels into the mattress. Her back slammed into the wooden headboard. “I-I ... d-d-didn't know.” Oh, God. What had she done? She tried desperately to unwedge herself from underneath the man she at last recognized. “S-s-sorry. I ... thought you were..."

Sorry, Matt. I thought you were Joey.

She couldn't say it. Especially not when a small part of her suspected all along this man wasn't Joey and purposely ignored the signs. Joey didn't start her heart pounding with a simple look. He didn't cause her to trip over her own words or turn her knees to Silly Putty.

Matt did. And he was here now, the pad of this thumb stroking her damp, erect nipple.

"Lindsay?"

Don't cry
, she ordered herself, cementing her teeth together and holding back the tears.
It won't help
.

When she could trust herself to talk, she said, “Let me go, Matt. Please. There's been a mistake."

"Like hell I will.” He rose up, bringing his face level with hers and trapping her against the headboard. “I told myself once that if I ever got you in bed with me, I'd never let you go. And trust me, I'm a man of my word.” He manacled her wrist, brought it to his mouth and kissed the sensitive underside. “Don't go, Lindsay. Let me love you."

"I can't."

"Why? We're all alone. Joey won't be back until tomorrow."

Lies couldn't save her. Only the cold, hard truth would convince Matt to relinquish his hold on her. How will he feel, she wondered, when he finds out she'd mistaken him for Joey? Or had she? The time had come to quit fooling herself. She wanted him, Matthew Callahan. No other man, including Joey, drew the kind of responses from her Matt did. But she wouldn't, couldn't make love to him under false pretenses. Difficult as it was, she owed him an explanation. Swallowing did nothing to alleviate her parched throat. Her confession came out scratchy as sandpaper on a brick.

"I snuck in here ... to seduce ... Joey. Not you. I don't know why you're in his bed. And it doesn't matter."

To her utter shame and horror, Matt laughed. “Seduce Joey?"

"You find the concept of me seducing a man amusing?” She bristled, which was really rather absurd under the circumstances.

"No!” He sobered instantly “I loved it, as I'm sure you can tell. What I find amusing is the thought of you and Joey together.” He bent his head and skimmed his lips lightly over hers, nuzzling her cheek, her jaw, her ear. “Do you make those little whimpering sounds for him?” Matt sucked on her lobe, gently tugging on it with his teeth. “Does he get hard every time you walk within ten feet of him?” He lowered her hand to his swollen groin.

She instructed her fingers to remain limp, but they stubbornly refused and closed around him.

"Oh, yeah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his expression a mixture of pleasure and pain. “Tell me this doesn't feel right."

"Matt.” She was at a loss for what to say. The sensible part of her brain screamed that making love with him was wrong for a hundred million reasons. The other part, the one she generally tried not to listen to, urged her to live for the moment.

"You're driving me crazy,” he said, finding her mouth again. “You have practically since the day we met.” The kiss was hot and wild as the first, but with an undercurrent of tenderness that threatened to melt her resolve. “I want you so bad, I can't think straight."

Matt wanted her
.

It was true. She, with her stick figure and tomboy personality, turned men on. One man, leastwise. The only one who really mattered.

The room lit up as another lightning bolt cut across the night sky. Lindsay stared into Matt's face, struck by the desire burning there. What was it Mahina had said?

Women like seeing that out of control lust in his eyes
.

Lindsay must have misconstrued what happened at the fire station that morning because looking at Matt now removed any and all doubts as to whether or not he was attracted to her. She began to tremble. The room went dark again, and a loud clap of thunder shook the house.

"I'm going to love you, Lindsay,” Matt said, sliding down her body until his lips found the sweetly scented valley between her breasts. “Unless you leave this room this instant."

In answer, Lindsay laid her head back and lowered the straps of her bustier.

Chapter 4

"Let me.” Matt peeled back the triangle cups of Lindsay's bustier to reveal her breasts.

She cringed, thankful the darkness hid her face, and prayed he wouldn't be too disappointed. The bustier had created a beautiful and sexy illusion, but an illusion nonetheless. Reality fell two cup sizes too short.

His hands, so competent and strong when it came to handling heavy equipment, caressed her with the utmost gentleness. Fingertips, roughened with calluses, traced the dusky outline of her areolas. The invisible circles he drew spiraled inward, coaxing her nipples to taut peaks. Tiny tremors rippled across the surface of Lindsay's skin when his warm breath fanned her. She sensed more than saw him observing the results of his handiwork.

"Incredible."

He sat up on his knees only long enough to ease her away from the headboard, then lay down on the bed beside her.

Lindsay sighed with relief. He wasn't repelled by her small breasts. Quite the contrary, in fact. He appeared rather enamored with them, as if he'd discovered an unexpectedly pleasant pastime. When his mouth replaced his fingers, Lindsay's back arched. Each flick of his tongue sent slender darts of sensation zipping along the network of her nervous system.

His hands encircled her breasts. As he shaped and molded them to fit his palms, he sucked greedily, first on one, then the other. Pressure built inside her, gathering strength and fury like a dust devil skipping across the desert floor on a hot summer evening.

When he bit down, gently teasing her nipple between his teeth, the spring of tension inside Lindsay coiled tighter. She dug her fingernails into the taut muscles of his shoulders as her hips rocked reflexively. Needy moans, her own she supposed, filled her ears.

"Easy, baby,” Matt crooned. “We have all night."

His right hand parted her legs and moved aside the narrow thong, enabling him to insert a finger inside her. Then two. Slowly, he pushed in and out. Again and again.

She arched high off the bed, thrusting upward, willing an end to the exquisite torture as much as she longed for it to last indefinitely.

"Matt.” She called his name over and over. Her surroundings dimmed until all that remained was him and the persistent throb only he could relieve.

"That's it,” he told her. “Don't hold back.” He shifted, repositioning his hand so that his thumb could work a kind of magic on her.

Another few seconds of expert manipulation and Lindsay quite simply fell apart.

The orgasm, her first ever with a man, didn't take her by surprise. But it did take her completely.

"Wow,” was all she could say when she'd recovered enough for her brain to form coherent thoughts.

Hooking a leg over hers, he tucked her close to him and chuckled low in his throat. “My sentiments exactly."

She heard the smile in his voice and her own lips curled in a Cheshire Catlike grin. “I had no idea it could be like that.” She sighed and stared at the ceiling, enjoying the feel of being nestled against his chest. “I mean, I've read about it, of course. And imagined."

His grip on her tightened. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"No! I'm not a virgin.” What was the matter with her? One little orgasm and she was blurting out her most embarrassing secrets. She averted her head, afraid that, despite the darkness, he'd see the mortification in her face. “I've been with a man before,” she said defensively. “In college."

"A man? As in
one
man?"

The smile crept back in his voice and Lindsay wanted to cover her head with a pillow. She was so gullible sometimes. “Yes. One man.” Her voice hitched when his fingers, still buried inside her, began to move again. “And it wasn't at all like this,” she said dreamily. “He never made me ... you know. What you made me do."

"Come?"

"Yes. That.” She was slurring her words and didn't care. If Matt continued on his present course, she'd come again. As appealing as that sounded, however, she had other ideas.

Not surprisingly, Mahina had been a wealth of information, sharing a considerable amount of it with Lindsay while helping her prepare that afternoon. Some of her stepsister's suggestions were outside of Lindsay's comfort zone, but others weren't. And she fully intended to give those a try. Pushing Matt's hand away, she rolled onto her side and reached for him.

"What are you doing?” He nuzzled her neck.

"My turn,” she cooed, tugging on the elastic waistband of his boxers, which for some reason, seemed glued to his body.

He offered no assistance. “Having trouble?"

"Nothing I can't manage.” Thirty seconds later, she'd made little progress and was panting hard. “Don't pretend you're not enjoying this,” she scolded.

"Oh, I'm enjoying it all right. A lot."

Succeeding at last, Lindsay slid the boxers over Matt's lean hips, down his legs and past his ankles. She casually flung them across the room. By her best estimation, they landed near the door. Matt sat up, swinging his feet onto the floor.

"Where are you going?” Lindsay suffered a moment's anxiety. Had she done something wrong? This was all so new to her.

"To ransack Joey's dresser drawers for a condom. And if I can't find one, I don't want you to hear me whining."

"You don't have any?” She found that hard to believe, what with his reputation as a ladies’ man.