Skinny Dipping (38 page)

The illumination wasn’t on in the pool area itself, but Sophie knew it was somewhere close because they could see it. There were distinct noises in the foyer. The noises were getting louder. Closer. An intense look flashed across Matthew’s face and they both froze.

“What the hell was that?” Matthew whispered. “No one’s supposed to be here.”

“Matthew?” A male voice called.

“Shit,” Matthew cursed. “Get out of here.” He quietly got out of the pool and helped Sophie up the steps.

“I’m just doing lost property,” he yelled out, gathering his clothing.

Sophie scooped up her clothes, and streaked toward the women’s changing room. A nightmarish realisation hit her, she was naked in the public pool and they were about to get caught. Flinging a glance over her shoulder, Matthew was manically pulling on his shorts, and practically tearing his t-shirt over his head at the same time. “I’m just packing up the lanes,” he called out. His voice did not betray him. He seemed absolutely calm.

Sophie made it to the changing room and got dressed with shaking hands. Her heart beat wildly as she struggled to pull her dress on her damp body. She didn’t have a towel. There were voices in the reception. Matthew’s voice was overly loud, laughing oddly about how busy it had been that night. Listening to the conversation, Sophie realised he was talking to the security guard. He was worried, noticing the front door ajar.

Sophie cursed herself furiously, as she combed her fingers through her wet her. She’d left the door slightly open thinking they were simply going to leave the pool. Why was it that at that moment, when they were finally getting it together, that the security guard decided to make his rounds? Of all the luck. She paced the changing room awkwardly in the darkness, not knowing whether to go out to the reception or not. She presumed that Matthew was dressed.

“Sophie?” Matthew was outside the ladies change room, a few minutes later. A large grin spread on his face. “The coast is clear. It was just security.”

Sophie smiled. Their skinny dipping adventure, skinny dipping secret, was safe. Just between them.

He was very close to her, and she found herself shaking with laugher. He was so close to her, and his mouth found its way on hers. But he pulled away, and adopted a serious expression. “Why don’t we get out of here?” he said, as look of amusement spread across his face. “Security is still around, and I’m going to go mad if they interrupt us again.”

He grabbed her hand and very quickly he pulled her through the swimming centre, locking the front doors with haste. He led her to his car and drove in silence. Occasionally Matthew’s hand fell off the Porsche’s gear stick and found its way to her leg.

They reached his apartment and suddenly he became very quiet as he let her inside and showed her around. “Would you like to have a shower?” he asked. “Yes, have a shower and I’ll get us something to drink,” he insisted, directing her to a large bathroom where he closed the door behind her.

Sophie showered, bubbles of anticipation floating around her. She was quick and dried herself off with one of the thick, white fluffy towels in his bathroom. She didn’t want to return to the living room too quickly. That would seem desperate.

She tried to stop her hands shaking, probably from anticipation as she put her dress back on. She dressed with care and looked endlessly round the bathroom for some type of hairbrush. Of course, there wasn’t one. Matthew was a male. He probably didn’t need to worry about having tangle free hair. She used her fingers to comb her hair, almost scratching at the strands, hoping not to look like a raggedy cat. Finally she finished and she assessed her appearance in the mirror. She looked okay to face him. She took a deep breath and left the bathroom.

She wandered cautiously down the corridor. The apartment was huge, and she noticed soft lights coming from what could only be the large living room. There were shadows flickering on the wall and she realised he’d lit candles while she was getting ready. Mood lighting. A silver ice bucket stood in the middle of the room. Matthew wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“Wow,” she murmured, and looked around. The living area was nothing like she expected, with brightly coloured walls. She examined the paintings, and above the sound of her beating heart she heard a noise and turned around.

Matthew sat on a black leather couch. He leaned back almost lazily, his hand hanging over the armrest. He was watching her, a hungry expression on his face. A smell of shampoo floated round the room, he must have showered as well. Her pulse raced. The unmistakable need for him soared through her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked.

“Not long,” he said, rising. He walked to the ice bucket, popped the bottle and poured her a glass of champagne. He handed her a glass and indicated she should sit on the couch.

She sat crossing her legs, then uncrossing them. Then crossing them again.

He turned from the ice bucket, stopped with the bottle poised midair from where he poured his own glass. “I didn’t say, but you look lovely, much better than the dirty pool rat.”

“Dirty pool rat? I don’t think so,” she exclaimed, and he was howling with laughter again.

“Yep, dirty pool rat, or should I say sexy sea minx? The way your curls were bouncing everywhere, in all directions.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Matthew approached, handing her a glass of champagne.

“Thanks.” She sipped the drink quickly. “You looked like a ….”

“Come on Miss Magic with Words. What did I look like?”

Frightfully sexy
was the first term which came through her mind. “Like a…starfish.”

“Nope. Not hairy enough, so I can’t be a starfish.”

“Coral, then. You looked like a piece of coral.”

“Too spiky,” he shook his head. “At least I know my underwater creatures. We should go diving some time.”

“Jellyfish.”

He laughed. “What am I going to do with you?” He raised his glass to her. Their gaze locked. She practically inhaled the drink.

“You’ve finished that.” He reached out, taking the empty champagne glass from her, setting it on the small side table next to the couch.

He sat down next to her. He was close, dangerously close. His fingers tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. His thumb glided along her chin, and over her lips. He leaned in, and she realised she was shaking as he kissed her. His mouth was hard on her lips, electricity coursing through her body like lightning hitting a tree.

In response, she leaned in very close, sliding her arms behind his neck, pulling him close. She kissed him, using her nerves to her advantage. Their kissing became very urgent and her hands were almost frantic as they ran down his back, feeling every sexy muscular vertebra. She nibbled his ear, kissing the lobe and his gorgeous neck. Then slowly, very provocatively she kissed his neck, just above his shirt collar.

She ran her hands across his chest, unable to resist playing with the buttons. Tingles flew up her spine as he played with her dress, sliding the hem higher up her thigh. He kissed her harder, their mouths locking together as a firm hand circled her back.

He pulled her hips to face him, sliding her body on top of his lap.

She felt suddenly confident, caught in the moment, letting one thigh slide, slow, seductively over his legs. Her body faced him inwardly, where she straddled him, both legs astride as if riding him. She stared into his dazzling blue eyes. She leaned into his chest, feeling his groin solid against her.

With a shaking hand, she slowly undid the top button of his shirt. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him shirtless before. She began to explore his chest, and resisted ripping the shirt off him immediately.

He sat straight in the sofa, arms encircling her waist, pulling her close to his hardness, moaning slightly as she pressed against him.

The hem of her dress slid to the top of her thighs. His fingertips traced the curve of her leg, to the top of her knee. He pushed her dress up, exposing her underwear. He traced the elastic band, following it around her thigh, stroking, running a fingertip between her legs, pushing on her pleasure spot, teasing. Only the thin fabric of her underwear separated their skin from touching. She was so thankful she was wearing silk knickers rather than her usual old cotton ones.

“Did you want to go into the other room?” he whispered. She nodded, almost unable to speak, and he lifted her up and onto her feet.

He took her hand, guiding her round his apartment, from the lounge down the hall to his big master bedroom. She couldn’t focus on the surroundings, only him as he urged her toward the bed in the middle of the room.

She felt his strong hands on her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. He became focused on her dress, pushing the straps from her shoulders. Letting them fall. He kissed her bare shoulders and then in one swoop he pulled the dress over her head.

She lay there, almost bare, almost naked. Her chest suddenly felt tight. He crawled above her, looking down from all fours, staring into her face.

“Sophie,” he murmured. She could hear his breathing, see his chest rising and falling. His hand ran up and down her body and she arched her back, aching for him, reaching for his trousers, undoing the button, sliding down the fly. Her hand touched the fabric of his underwear, finding his hardness.

She wanted him desperately. More than anything now.

“I haven’t been with anyone since….” He gulped, not finishing the sentence.

Since Rebecca.
With sudden clarity, Sophie wondered whether he was still too wounded, whether this was all a mistake, whether she should stop.

“Are you alright? Are you okay with this?” he asked, pausing for her to respond, his fingers circling a curl in her hair, finding the back of her neck.

She kissed him in response, her hands suddenly urgently pulling his trousers off. She wanted him in his underwear too. No. She wanted him naked, making love to her.

She cast the trousers to the ground. He straddled her, pressing his groin against her.

Excitement seared through her as he dropped his head, down to her underwear, kissing the elastic band playfully.

His mouth climbed the way up her stomach, a ladder of kisses finishing between her breasts. His mouth came down, circling over her nipples. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

Sophie let out a gasp, her hand running over his back, pulling him tight against her, loving the effect she had on him.

She slid her hands down over his back. There was not an ounce of fat on his toned body. Her hand moved lower, lower, beneath his underwear, peeling them off. Feeling his exquisite body. She arched her body as he kissed her neck.

“I’ve liked you for such a long time, I’m so glad you’re finally seeing me,” he said, as he kissed her. With urgency he pulled her underwear off.

They were both naked together and suddenly they both lost control. Frantic. Groping greedily. Touching each other. Seeking pleasure. Sweet sensation rippling through their bodies. He was panting hard as she began to guide him to where she wanted him.

“You’re so beautiful, Rebecca,” he said.

Sophie flinched at the name. She sat up quickly, clarity washing over her like a splash of cold water.
Did he just call her Rebecca?
God, did he even realise he’d done it?

She couldn’t get involved with someone who called her by his deceased former girlfriend’s name. He was still grieving. He was still in love with someone. Someone else. Not ready. He was not even close to being ready.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling her close.

She gulped, wishing it was her that he wanted and not Rebecca. The disappointment washed over her body. Should she tell him what he had just called her?

“I think we’re going a little bit fast,” she said putting a firm hand on his chest, pushing him away. She felt her heart constrict. Sadness finding every corner of her body. Disappointment stifling her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He was breathing quickly. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I don’t want to rush things.”

“Um..., are you ready for this?” she said in the quietest voice.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” Her heart lurched at the pain in his voice. “I really like you, I want to be with you,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of her hair from her forehead.

“I really like you, too. But,” she said, unable to continue. She wiped the sweat from her brow. She had to explain, provide him with a reason. “But my name’s Sophie,” she said softly.

“I know,” he said, kissing her forehead, her nose, and her lips. Her body betraying her, as she felt her lips part. With effort she pushed him away. “You called me Rebecca.”

There was a pause. “Oh shit, I didn’t,” he said, sitting up. Sophie could almost see him collapsing into himself.

She nodded. “Maybe it’s better to keep our relationship simple. Friends. I mean, we could really complicate things. We almost did.”

She jumped out of the bed, practically flinging herself off the mattress. With haste she pulled her clothes on almost blindly. Hot, silent tears raced down her face. She wiped them away. He didn’t need to see that. He was the one who was grieving, she didn’t need to lump her disappointment on him too. Thankfully there were no lights on and it was dark. He wouldn’t see her cry. No way.

She could hear him moving off the bed. Slowly. Cautiously.

“Look, I think maybe I should go,” she said, not daring a glance at him. She ran from his bedroom, and through his apartment hoping he wouldn’t follow.

She’d been lucky. He didn’t follow. She could never compete with a ghost.

Chapter 29

Sophie didn’t know how to handle a client whom she’d almost slept with. Twice. Or three times if she counted the heated kissing session on New Year’s Eve.

How should she act now that he’d seen her naked after an adventurous skinny dipping session? And in his bedroom where she was naked and so was he. He’d seen everything.

She too had seen him. Matthew, of course, was quite well endowed in his department. She should have guessed from the bulge in his swimming trunks.