Twice the Chance, page 12
Gazing into his eyes, she could almost see herself the way he did. As a woman who’d been victimized by circumstances and not one who had a criminal legacy. Almost.
“You don’t know everything about me.” She spoke through the fingers still covering her lips.
“I don’t need to.” Matt slid his fingers to the back of her neck and cupped her head with a gentle hand.
The anticipation that he was about to kiss her buzzed through her veins. He had a beautiful mouth, his lower lip rich and full, his upper lip slightly bowed in the center.
She’d let him kiss her, Jazz decided. She even wanted him to, just to see if she’d blown the first kiss out of proportion. She’d told herself again and again over the last few days that no kiss could be as electrifying as she remembered.
Jazz moved forward, closer and closer to finding out. And then her mouth was on his, her fingers threading through the golden-brown strands of his thick hair.
Her lips molded to his while she breathed in the clean, warm scent that was uniquely his. Her nerve endings came alive, heightening her senses. He tasted wonderful and ever so slightly of a rich, luscious coffee.
Yes, that was it. He tasted luscious.
She pressed against the solid length of him, yearning to be closer. She felt his erection against her lower abdomen at the same time he coaxed her mouth open. It didn’t take much persuading.
Matt’s tongue slid against hers, arousing all sorts of sensations she hadn’t felt in years before he’d kissed her by the pool. Maybe she’d never felt anything like it. Heat built inside her, flickering like the sparks before a fire broke out. She rubbed against him, feeling the heat pool at her very center.
One of his hands slid slowly down her back, settling on her rear end, bringing her closer against his arousal. Their kiss got deeper, more furious.
Jazz had never felt passion like this. It rose inside of her like a living thing until her world spiraled out of control. That could be because Matt had swept his arms under her knees and her feet were off the ground. His lips were on the side of her mouth, then at her throat. Her flip-flops slipped off her feet and landed on the carpet with a soft thump.
“Bedroom?” Matt rasped.
She couldn’t tell if he was asking for directions or permission. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t think.
“Down the…hall,” she said.
Matt took off in that direction, striding the length of the hall and nudging open the partially cracked door to her bedroom with his foot. He flipped a switch on the wall that turned on the ceiling fan and her bedside lamp.
The room was her favorite, decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors with a psychedelic bedspread set off by sky-blue walls she’d stenciled with azaleas, her favorite flower. Jazz had never allowed anyone into her sanctuary. Until now.
Matt deposited her on the bed, kicked off his shoes and quickly joined her. His mouth sought hers and the spiral inside Jazz grew tighter, wilder. She wasn’t sure whether the colors she saw were in her room or in her mind.
The slats of the ceiling fan whirred overhead, stirring the air but doing little to cool the heat between them. Matt fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, and Jazz let him, glad when he had the garment unbuttoned and she could be free of it.
Then Matt’s hands were on her skin, gliding across her abdomen, moving upward. Her breasts swelled and her nipples puckered, straining against the silky material of her bra. He fumbled with the clasp.
Soon Jazz would be completely naked, with no barrier to making love with him. Was she ready for this?
Her heart pounded, her blood raced through her veins and her lungs felt as if they were in the grip of a vise.
The answer was a resounding no. She wasn’t ready.
Jazz jerked backward, breaking off the kiss and pushing against his chest until their bodies were no longer touching. She scooted away, putting at least a foot between them on her queen-sized bed.
“Jazz, are you okay?” Matt asked.
She wasn’t looking at him but he sounded stunned. Why wouldn’t he be? She’d practically thrown herself at him and then acted as if he were sexually assaulting her.
Jazz nodded.
Matt anchored himself on one elbow and gazed down at her. His hair was ruffled, his eyes heavy lidded, his lips moist. “Are you sure? Because you don’t look okay.”
She inched farther from him on the bed, picked up her shirt and put it back on. Matt didn’t change his position while she rebuttoned it, watching her warily. She strived to get control of herself.
“I’m sorry.” Jazz took a deep breath and released it slowly. “You probably think I’m nuts.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. I know I’m giving off mixed signals. It’s just that…” She took a deep breath and tried again. He deserved an explanation. “It’s been a while and things were suddenly going too fast.”
A moment passed, then another. “How long is a while?”
Jazz hadn’t consciously counted up the years. She swallowed. “Since before I went to prison.”
“How long ago was that?” he asked. “Six years? Seven?”
“Almost nine,” she said. “I turn twenty-seven this year.”
Matt smiled at her, long and slow. “You won’t get any complaint from me. I kind of like that you haven’t been with anyone else in a long time.”
Jazz might as well tell him the rest of it. “I didn’t only mean I haven’t made love in almost nine years.” She could only manage a whisper. “I haven’t kissed anyone in that long, either.”
His mouth dropped open and he shook his head. “That can’t be true. Not of someone who looks like you.”
Jazz stared at him, not sure where he was going with this.
“I mean, look at you.” Matt gestured to her with a nod of his head. “You’re gorgeous. Men must hit on you all the time.”
She blinked, trying to square his words with her self-image. She’d always thought of her looks as average.
“When you’re in prison,” Jazz said, “you learn pretty quickly to give off signals that you want to be left alone.”
“Haven’t you wanted to date since you’ve been out?”
Jazz shook her head. She’d been too busy holding down two jobs so she could pay the rent. Not only hadn’t she sought male attention, but she’d also avoided it.
“After Luke, I don’t trust my judgment,” she explained.
“So these signals you give off, do they work with everyone?”
She was surprised to feel herself smile. “You mean, everyone besides you?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”
Jazz shrugged. It was becoming easier to talk with every minute that passed. “Every now and then, there’s a guy who doesn’t get the message. But I can handle it.”
“How do you handle it?”
“Different ways,” she said. “Mostly I say I’m not interested. That usually works, but not always.”
“I’d apologize,” he said, “except when you kissed me, it didn’t feel like you were signaling me to leave you alone.”
Jazz wiped a hand over her face. “I wanted to kiss you. But then before I knew it we were in my bedroom and I panicked.”
Matt brushed a strand of hair from her face and a little tingle spread through her.
“I’d never push you to do anything you didn’t want to do,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. She trusted him in a way she hadn’t trusted anyone in a very long time. She wasn’t ready to make love to him, but she didn’t want him to go, either. With Matt in her bed, the world was a far less lonely place.
“Maybe you could just hold me for a while,” she whispered.
Matt wrapped her into his arms. She took comfort in the even rhythm of his breathing and a peace settled over her.
Neither of them spoke a word. After a while Jazz’s eyes grew heavy. Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was that she hoped nobody else needed the dryer tonight.
Because there was no way she was leaving the warmth of his arms to fold her clothes.
CHAPTER NINE
JAZZ OPENED HER EYES to darkness.
She felt incomplete, as though something were missing. A rustling near the foot of the bed brought home what it was. Matt was no longer lying next to her.
“Matt?” Her voice sounded groggy from sleep. “What time is it?”
“Almost two.” He straightened. Something was in his hands. It appeared to be a pair of shoes. “I’m heading out. I’ve got work in the morning.”
She did, too. She needed to be at Pancake Palace for prep work in less than four hours.
Jazz pushed herself up into a sitting position. She was still in the clothes she’d worn the night before. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see that Matt was, too. His T-shirt had come loose from his shorts and he looked charmingly rumpled.
“We fell asleep,” she stated the obvious.
“I didn’t mean to.” Matt sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her and brushed the hair back from her face. Jazz leaned into his touch. “But after I was sure you were asleep, I switched off the light. I only meant to stay a little longer. The next thing I knew, it was 2:00 a.m.”
“Really?” she asked. “You fell asleep that easily?”
“Only after you did,” he said. “Before then, I was too revved up.”
Jazz laughed, remembering the passion that had flared between them. Yet, lying in his arms last night, she’d felt safe.
“You weren’t the only one,” she said. “My engine was racing, too.”
“You have a beautiful engine.” Matt’s sensuous mouth curved into a smile she could just make out in the darkened bedroom. “All the more reason for me to get going.”
“Yes.” Jazz reached out to trace the outline of his lips. What was it about his mouth she found so fascinating? “You should get going.”
He caught her hand and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. A shivery sensation traveled down her arm.
Jazz met his eyes. “You can do better than that.”
“Ah, a challenge,” he said. “You should know I can’t resist one.”
Without letting go of her hand, he leaned forward and claimed her lips with a gentle, undemanding kiss. She breathed in the clean, intoxicating scent of him, already sure that blindfolded she could pick him out of a dozen men. His lips graced her mouth with a series of soft, tender kisses that demanded nothing. He still held her hand, which was nestled against his heart.
Matt kissed the side of her mouth, whispering against her skin, “I should go.”
Jazz turned her mouth, greedy for more of his kisses. His whiskers had grown since last night, the feel of his face against hers scratchier and somehow more exciting. Kissing him was intoxicating, spreading a sensuous languor through her body.
She lost track of time, not aware of anything except pleasure. She felt bereft when he raised his head. He inhaled, then exhaled.
“We’ve got…to stop.” Matt seemed to be struggling to get his breathing under control. “Already I won’t…be…walking straight.”
She was amazed that she could giggle, even more surprised by what she was about to say. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”
He became very still. Jazz could make out just enough of his expression in the darkness to pick up on his surprise. “Are you sure?”
Last night the panic had been present from the start, lurking beneath the surface, warring with the passion. The panic was completely gone now.
“Very sure,” Jazz said.
Keeping her eyes fastened on his, she undid her shirt button by button, then shrugged out of it. Next she unhooked the front clasp of her bra, letting her breasts spill free.
She saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.
“I sure am glad you’re sure,” Matt said, “because you sure are beautiful.”
His tone was so reverent that she laughed again, then slipped her bra completely off. He kept staring. She felt her nipples pucker.
“By the way,” Jazz said in a breathy voice, “this is definitely not a case of ‘look but don’t touch.’”
It was Matt’s turn to laugh. He reached for her, one of his warm hands cupping her shoulder, the other gliding over her back and across her stomach until moving north. His mouth closed over hers as he cupped her breast.
She gasped into his mouth. A tight spiral of need unfurled inside her. While still kissing him, she reached for the hem of his T-shirt. She helped him pull it over his head, breaking off the kiss only as long as necessary. His chest was muscular yet not overly developed, with a light sprinkling of hair.
“I sure hope you have a condom,” she said.
He reached into the pocket of his shorts, withdrew his wallet and produced one.
Her eyes dipped to the waistband of his shorts. She tucked her thumbs into her own waistband.
“Race you,” she said.
Matt was sliding his shorts down his lean hips before she finished unzipping. She didn’t even get a glimpse of his underwear, which meant she still didn’t know if he wore boxers or briefs, cartoon characters or superheroes. She giggled.
“Why are you laughing?” His voice was playful. “I won.”
Jazz shimmied out of her shorts and bikini panties, then took a long look at the hard length of him. She felt a surge of feminine power.
“No,” she said. “We both did.”
She moved forward, meeting both his mouth and body halfway, so that they were skin to skin. Jazz slanted her mouth, granting him better access, giving herself even more gratification.
She ran her hands over the solid planes of his body and strained to be even closer to him. He reached between them. Even before he stroked her, she was slick and ready. She helped him sheath himself with the condom, then guided him so that the tip of his shaft was at her entrance.
“Now,” Jazz said and thrust her hips to take all of him.
She moved with him. It had been more than eight years since she’d had sex but she was positive she’d never felt this intensity before. Matt was in no hurry, setting a tempo that led to a slow buildup of sensation, until Jazz thought she’d die from too much pleasure.
The pressure built inside her, hot and needy, so that she was the one who started to move faster. He matched her rhythm until something hot, sweet and unfamiliar burst inside her, transporting her to a different plane. He thrust inside her one more time and groaned, reaching his own climax.
They stayed that way for long moments until Matt rolled over, still keeping her in his arms so they were side to side. Jazz turned her head to smile at him.
“That was my first time,” she told him.
“What?” Matt looked adorably shocked.
“Not my first time making love,” Jazz clarified. “My first orgasm.”
His grin was so cocky it warmed Jazz to her toes. “Sweetheart, you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.” Matt kissed the side of her neck, sending shivers spiraling down her body. “In fact, I think you should go to dinner with the guy who gave you your first orgasm.”
“I thought you were going to stop asking me out,” Jazz said.
“This won’t be a date.” Matt nuzzled her neck again. “It’ll be my reward for gratifying you.”
She couldn’t help it. She giggled again.
“How does Wednesday night sound?” he asked. “Let’s say eight-thirty?”
Jazz could hardly think with his clever lips on her body. Now they were near her ear. But wasn’t it already Wednesday? “I’m working tonight.”
“Thursday night?”
“Also working.” Jazz was busy four nights a week with the telemarketing job.
“I’ve got the football game Friday night,” Matt said. “I need to be on the sidelines making sure things run smoothly, but you could come and sit with my family.”
Reality crashed down on Jazz, heavier than a boulder. Barely forty-eight hours ago she’d made the decision to stay away from all of the Caminettis. If she made an exception for Matt, how could she avoid the rest of them?
“I can’t,” she said.
This close to him she could see the frown lines that appeared between his eyebrows. “Are you brushing me off?”
Jazz bit her lower lip. “Maybe a little. I’m already going to the game with some of my coworkers. Carl—he’s another of the short-order cooks—has a nephew who plays for the team.”
“I’m cool with that,” Matt said slowly. “But let’s get back to you brushing me off.”
“I’m not in the market for anything serious, Matt.”
“Okay,” he said. “I can live with that.”
Jazz needed to make things clear. “Even if it means I don’t want to be around your family?”
“You don’t like my family?”
“I like your family fine.” An understatement. “I just don’t want them getting the wrong idea about us.”
“Fine. No family,” Matt said. “So will you go out with me Saturday night?”
Jazz hesitated instead of blurting out her agreement. She needed to be smart and consider the situation from every angle. But hadn’t she already done that? She’d told Matt of her desire to keep things casual and to stay away from his family.
“Say something.” Matt grinned at her. “As long as it’s yes.”
She gave up trying to resist the irresistible.
“Yes,” Jazz said.
“Good answer! You won’t be sorry. I’ll take you somewhere nice for dinner. If you behave yourself, maybe you’ll even get lucky.”
She laughed and moved closer to him, surprised that he was already primed and ready for her again.
“I have a feeling I’m about to get lucky right now,” she whispered.
Jazz proceeded to lose herself in him, not even caring that she’d be well short of the requisite eight hours. If anything was worth losing sleep over, it was Matt.
WHAT A DIFFERENCE twenty-two minutes of high school football made.
The spotlights still shone, the band still played the Faircrest fight song and the stands were still packed, but with two minutes until halftime Matt could no longer spot a single Free D.J. sign.
