When He Was Bad... (10 page)

Desire clashed with passion, impatience with hunger. His mouth fused with hers. Bodies bumping, legs tangling, he manoeuvred them both backwards and collapsed onto the bed, Ellie sprawled over him.

He twisted so that she lay beneath him, plundering her mouth while his hands raced over her. She writhed against him, her small deft fingers scraping over his neck, his shoulders, the base of his spine. Her warm fragrance teased his nostrils; her breathing was fast and shallow.

Impatience tore at him. He couldn't get enough. Enough of her scent, her moans, her taste. The room's cool air mingled with the warm scent of arousal, muted light spilled over them like gold dust and her skin glowed like fire.

The primitive race to finish what they'd begun beat like a jungle drum through his blood, vanquishing any semblance of his customary urbane finesse.

No time to linger, less to think. Pushing her legs apart with his thigh, he plunged his fingers into her wet heat…
Protection
.

The world they'd created ground to a halt.

On a groan of frustration, he withdrew his hand. ‘Condom,' he mumbled when she whimpered in protest. He reared up, yanking open his bedside drawer and pulling out the necessary item.

Ellie bit her lip at the unavoidable delay, momentarily appalled that she'd not given it a thought. But before she could chastise herself, his hard body was stretched over hers once more, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

He drove inside her, one long swift glide that 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.

T
HERE
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 dis
appointment. 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 smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. ‘'Lo, Belle. How's everything going?'

‘Very well, dear. Or it was, but there's a bit of a problem here.'

‘What's wrong?' His hand hovered over the stove, breakfast forgotten. ‘Anything I can do?'

‘No, no. It's just that Miriam wanted to go skydiving and she talked me into—'

‘You did
what
?'

‘You heard correctly,' she said with a smile in her voice. ‘If ninety-year-olds can do it, why not me? When you get to my age you realise that sometimes you have to take chances before it's too late. It was a tandem dive with a fully qualified instructor. Anyway,' she hurried on before Matt could get another word in, ‘Miriam landed heavily and twisted her ankle. She lives alone and I'd like to stay on a day or two to help but I don't want to put you out longer than I have to.'

‘No need to hurry back. Everything's fine here.'

‘That's good to hear.' She paused. ‘How's Eloise?'

He smiled at her usual formality. ‘Fine. The weather's been a bit wet for gardening but I kept her busy.' He was suddenly excruciatingly aware of how his response might be interpreted, so he added, ‘Your windows now sparkle.'

‘Oh. Thank her for me.' Pause. ‘Matthew…I know when you're not saying something… Have you been seeing her?'

Seeing her
— Oh, yeah, images of last night were imprinted on his eyeballs. ‘She works for you, Belle, of course I have.'

‘You know what I mean.'

‘Don't go getting any romantic ideas, Belle.' He struggled with a feeling that he was scaling his own skyscraper with one hand tied behind his back. ‘It's not…'

Then he noticed Ellie in the doorway, looking unsure, and Belle's voice faded into the background. He beckoned her in. How long had she been standing there? What had she heard? And while he tried to recall what he'd said, he watched the way her nipples poked at her T-shirt as she stretched and studied the view from the window and everything else flew out of his mind.

He turned away, rattled off, ‘Have to go, Belle. We're about to have breakfast. Talk to you soon, bye.'

Ellie's arms dropped and she spun to him, the pleasure bleaching from her face. ‘Oh, that's just peachy. Breakfast? You as good as told Belle, my
employer
, we're sleeping together. Slept together,' she corrected quickly, her eyes widening as if remembering that was all they'd agreed to.

‘I didn't mention any names.' His voice felt tight as he dropped the phone onto the table. ‘And so what if we did? We're consenting adults.' While Ellie sat down, he concentrated on sliding a plate piled with crisp bacon, eggs and buttered toast from the oven. He set it in front of her. ‘Eat before it gets cold.'

She bit into a piece of toast. ‘What about you?'

He moved away from her fresh scent before he said or did something unwise. ‘I'm going to take a shower first.' With the safety of distance, he grinned, but it felt forced. ‘Leave some bacon for me.'

 

They'd ridden back to Melbourne soon after breakfast, arriving at Belle's midmorning. Now Matt scowled at the garden in progress through the window while he spoke to a guy he knew about finding Ellie new accommodation.

He'd dropped Ellie back at her apartment. The cleaning crew had been; Matt had ensured her door was repaired and secure. Then he'd left. No suggestion of meeting up later. Nothing.

With arrangements to view a couple of places, he disconnected. He'd give her a call later, make sure everything was okay. Meanwhile there was a problem at one of the Sydney sites that couldn't wait. He'd already made arrangements to fly there. Business was his priority, always had been—he'd see Ellie Tuesday.

Days away. He frowned. Memories of last night played over and over in his mind. How smooth and soft her skin felt against his when she'd wrapped her legs around him. Her impatient moans of passion against his ear. Her slick hot heat as he'd plunged inside her. She'd been so responsive, so satisfying. The best sex ever. From her response she thought so too.

Why wait for Tuesday?

Swiping up his keys, he headed out into the drab winter's day.

 

‘Matt.' Ellie pulled her door wider, staring at the man who'd left less than an hour ago. ‘Did you forget something?'

‘As a matter of fact…' He stepped in, closing the door
behind him and pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest and covering her mouth with his.

If she'd thought he'd changed his mind after last night, this hot, hard doubt-melting kiss proved her wrong. He lifted his head. ‘It doesn't have to be one night, Ellie,' he murmured, cruising his hands up her back.

‘What are you saying?' As if she didn't know.

As if she could think of the right response…the
sensible
response. After all, she'd heard him telling Belle not to get any romantic ideas…and despite their mutual understanding—that last night was one night and one night only—it had hurt. More than it should.

‘We could spend a few more days…and nights…enjoying getting to know each other better.'

She felt the demand in his fingers and stared up into impatient dark eyes. Less than twelve hours ago she'd seen passion burning bright in those eyes. It was still there, dark and smouldering. One move, one spark, and they'd ignite.

She wanted to burn like that with him again.

But a few days, then what? He was talking about a few hours of pleasure between the sheets with maybe the odd candlelit dinner thrown in. And when put like that…was she
really
considering turning him down?

But something inside her cramped and twisted and she stepped back. Did she want to relive that familiar pain of being left behind when he moved on? To slice open those old wounds around her heart which had never completely healed?

He was suggesting a fling.

She didn't do flings. And she didn't do them for very good reasons.

She continued to back away until her backside hit the edge of the kitchen table. ‘I know what you're asking.'
And you want to put a time limit on it
. ‘Forget it. I enjoyed last night, and I would be lying to pretend otherwise, but—'

His mouth swooped down on hers again, cutting off her protests. His beautiful, beguiling, bewitching mouth. Tormenting her with all kinds of sweet temptation, promising all manner of dreamy delights. Delights he'd barely begun to show her last night, delights she'd barely begun to discover.

She wanted more. And he gave her more, with mouth and tongue, low-throated murmurs and clever hands. Not the blazing brush fire this time, but a hot steady burn, no less powerful in its intensity.

When he lifted his head and looked straight and clear into her eyes, she found herself clinging to his sweatshirt for support. Her head was spinning, her heart trying to catch up.

‘It was good between us last night,' he murmured. ‘I want to pursue it. So do you.'

She closed her eyes, denying it, denying him. Denying herself. ‘No.'

‘Look me dead in the eye and tell me you don't want to continue what we started.'

He cupped her jaw, thumbs whisking over her lips, and her brain shut down. ‘I don't want you to—' one hand skimmed down the centre of her body from neck to navel, down ‘—to… stop,' she finished on a moan. She tried to move away again, but the table prevented her and it seemed her body had a will of its own. ‘I can't think when you do that….'

‘Then look at me, be honest and tell me you don't want me.' The trace of his lips over her chin and down the side of her neck had her arching backwards over the table, his hand warm against her lower belly. Her feminine places swelled and throbbed. One touch and she was melting….

Her eyes drifted open. ‘This is crazy.'

‘I agree.'

He lifted his head, watched her with a grin that promised everything she wanted if only she had the courage to take it for however long it lasted.

He wiggled his brows. ‘Why don't we get crazy together?'

She felt her own lips kick up at the corners. ‘You think it'd help? I mean…help with getting it out of our systems. Like you said.' Sometime. She waved a vague hand; she couldn't remember when he'd said it, only that he had. Which meant he wanted to get naked with her to scratch that pesky clichéd itch. Temporary diversion. Lust.

‘We could give it another try right now…' He shifted closer, easing himself between her thighs.

‘Uh-uh. Not until we make a few things clear.' Pushing him away, she straightened, her mind awhirl. Did she dare to risk setting herself up for the fall which would inevitably occur? For starters, ‘If I change my mind, you respect that, no questions asked.'

He nodded. ‘You got it.'

‘And while we're being crazy together, you're not being crazy with anyone else.'

‘Ellie, I—'

She shook her head. ‘Never.
Ever
. I won't tolerate it.' She could feel herself shaking, her voice catching, remembering Heath's betrayal. While he'd made merry with her, he'd had a fiancée he'd forgotten to tell her about. ‘I'll not—'

‘Ellie, calm down. I'm not asking for undying love and commitment. All I'm asking is a few days of mutual enjoyment. Just you and me.'

‘A few days.' She stared up at him, unable to believe he'd ask it, unable to believe she'd even consider it, let alone agree to it.

‘It'll be okay, Ellie.' He searched her gaze for the longest time, then touched her cheek with a light finger. It was almost as if he knew she'd been hurt before, and his perception and understanding did strange things to her insides, quieting the
shrill questions and fears, beckoning to her like a warm quilt on a cold night.

Still, she rubbed the tiny shiver from her arms that his touch invoked. ‘I know it will.' She'd make sure of it.

He nodded, taking her reply as acceptance. ‘I need to return to Sydney for work for a couple of days. Come with me.'

She felt her jaw drop. ‘To Sydney? What about Belle?'