Chapter Eight

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Are you crazy?” Not like it’s really a question. “No way.” I take him by his neck and yank him down for another smooch.

“You’re my kind of woman.” He laughs into my ear, and then begins planting kisses on my neck and chest, tracing the outline of my v-neck shirt with his lips. I bring my hands down to touch his ass. I fight the urge to lift my hips into him. Now that would be a bad idea.

Moving along, I catch the edge of his shirt, and run fingers along his bare back. Stroking his soft, warm, dampened skin, I love the feel of his muscles in the palms of my hands. The more I explore, the more his shirt slides up his long torso. I tug on it. Matty understands me and with one hand, he yanks his shirt over his head. I take a much needed pause to enjoy the sight before me. Pressing my hands to Matty’s chest, I tilt myself upward to graze his pecs with my lips. My lack of abdominal muscles sends me flat on my back wanting more. One side of his mouth rises in a smile, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. I smile back.

“You’re gorgeous, Matt Fuller.” His luscious mouth comes down on my neck again. I sense his teeth drag along my collarbone, and I arch my back, thrusting my hips into his swollen shaft. “You’re killing me, Matty.” The heat in his eyes bears down on me. I know he feels the same.

“And you’re beautiful, Shelly Gelson. Just beautiful.” His soft lips brush against mine. He kisses my nose, and just underneath each of my eyes. “I love your little freckles. They make you even more beautiful.” His lips graze the same area again. “Each and every one.” He touches his lips to my mouth once more before he rolls over next to me, exhaling a deep breath.

Quickly, I prop up on my elbow and stare at him, lying there, breathing heavily, and leaving me hanging, but there’s that smile that has me undone. The silly grin on his face and the swell in his pants tells me he's enjoying himself as much as I am.

“What are you doing?” I ask him. I said I didn’t need a break.

“Taking a breather,” he mutters, through a chuckle.

“Why?'

“Because you’re killing me too.” Oh. I see. Not only are we enjoying ourselves, but we're also frustrating the hell out of each other—in the best way possible.

“Uh. What should we do then?” I ask him, honestly. Although, if the throbbing between my legs and tenderness of my breasts is meant to go away, I'm going to have to get as far away from Matty as possible. Across the Pacific doesn't seem far enough to chill the sensations I'm experiencing. He props himself up on his elbow too, just like me and rests his other hand on my waist. Caressing my back, he tells me,

“We probably shouldn't do much more than this. For now anyway. Not until you’re ready.”

“Ready for sex? Matty, this isn’t my first time. I am ready for sex.” He rolls on his back laughing at my plea. I continue, “Why are you laughing at me, butthead? I’m serious.” He clears his throat and grins at me. I lean over him, resting my chin on the backs of my hands on his chest. He plays with my hair, running strands through his fingers and then letting them fall.

“I know you are, Shel, but it doesn’t mean you’re ready here.” He taps on my temple. “When we make love for the first time, I want you to love me … entirely, and only me.” The thought crosses my mind. Do I love Matty? Of course I do. He’s Matty, my dear close friend. Someone who I might just want to be more than friends with. But, do I not love Chase anymore? That’s a tough question. Sometimes I think I always will. “Don’t over think this, Shel. I can see the wheels turning in your head. It’ll happen.”

“So you’re confident I’ll fall in love with you?” I ask, teasingly. He pauses, staring into my eyes.

“Never been so confident in anything or anyone in my life.” He kisses my nose.

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