One Day Like This, page 9
They stayed at the table, with Matt occasionally doing a bar run for them all. Izabel had gotten her glass of champagne and within the first sip had realised Matt was right. She didn’t really like it. So, Matt had gone back to the bar and gotten them both sparkling water. The ladies had switch to Harveys Bristol Cream and the sherry made them even more hilarious.
Eventually, Matt tapped her butt and moved to stand. “As much as I’ve loved chatting with you ladies, I think it’s time I danced with Iz.”
“We’re dancing?” she asked, as the ladies said their goodbyes.
“Why not?” he said, leading her to the dance floor. “I get to pull you close and pretend I’m not actually grinding my dick against you under the dim strobe lights. It’ll be like the high school disco all over again.”
He spun her as they reached the dance floor before doing exactly as promised. “Plus, I didn’t want to share you with them for another minute. As soon as they started to ask me why I hadn’t proposed yet, I felt we needed to run before they found a priest and married us off tonight.”
Izabel laughed. “I think they felt responsible for you.”
“Glenn suggested next time we’re all at a wedding together, she’ll iron my shirt for me if you don’t have time like you didn’t today.”
Izabel looked shocked. “Because I’m the woman in our relationship I need to do your ironing.”
“Apparently so. And if you don’t, Glenn is just biding her time to pounce on your guy. She mentioned she makes a mean Shepherd’s pie, too.”
“Right, that’s it. I’m going over there to tell Glenn to keep her hands off my man.” Izabel pretend to storm toward Glenn, laughing when Matt slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Her back to his chest.
“There’s only one woman I want in this ballroom, and right now her delicious arse is pressed up against my dick.”
Izabel slowed down, pressed back a little harder, swaying her hips from side to side. “Better.”
Matt pressed a long wet kiss to her neck. “Unless you want me to fuck you in front of Gemma’s grandma, you need to turn around.”
Izabel did as he requested, sighing as he took one of her hands in his, and tightly wrapped his other arm around her waist. She couldn’t find the right word to describe how it made her feel. Safe. Treasured, maybe. Definitely wanted.
“It’s even better,” Matt whispered.
“What it?”
“This. The feel of you in my arms. The way our bodies line up together. It’s magic.”
Izabel stepped back a little so she could look at Matt’s eyes. The DJ changed the song from a slower dance back to an upbeat pop song, but Matt didn’t let her go, nor did he change his pace from the slow swaying they’d been doing.
“Are you ready to show me?” she asked.
Matt sighed, his chest expanding then relaxing against hers. “Yeah, sweetheart, I think I am.”
He took her hand and led her out of the room. She should say goodnight to Gemma, at least thank her parents for a wonderful evening. But she couldn’t force herself to stop. Wasting another moment was unthinkable.
“She doesn’t suck cock, you know?”
Harry’s voice cracked through the air as if he’d physically slapped her. Matt stopped, squeezed her hand, and turned. “You want to say that again?”
Harry leaned against the wall in the hallway, pint in his hand, surrounded by three other men Gemma had introduced as Harry and Ollie’s cousins.
Izabel glanced in Harry’s direction. His words hurt. This was the man she’d once thought she could be happy enough with. “Harry, stop being a dickhead. Please, Matt. Let’s just go.”
“You heard me. Doesn’t give head.”
Matt looked down at her and winked. “Pretty sure that says more about you and your dick than it says about her. You’re just the bitter twat who lost her because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. Even as you stand there, mouthing shit about her like you hate her, you see her like I do, and it eats you up inside. You know there isn’t a woman here who can hold a candle to her. And, yeah, you compensate for that by trying to make her seem small, try to put out her flame because it makes you feel better about your life choices to fuck Sophia.”
Harry was momentarily flustered. Two of the men around him smirked and edged away. “Better than fucking my brother’s seconds.”
Matt moved toward Harry, closing the gap between them.
Izabel tugged at his arm. “Matt. Not now.”
“Trust me, sweetheart. I’m not going to hit him…yet.”
The way he said yet was ominous.
Izabel could see the panic in Harry’s face as the final man stepped out of the way. In a fight, there was no question Matt would win. Harry was refined and polished. Matt was raw and explosive. Matt placed one hand on the wall next to Harry’s head. “It’s your brother’s wedding. For Gemma’s and Izabel’s sake, I’m not going to lay a finger on you tonight. But be on notice, Harry. First time I find you after this, it’s really going to fucking hurt.”
Harry attempted to shove Matt away, but Matt didn’t budge. “Are you threatening me?”
“Please,” Izabel said, edging her way between the two of them. “Not here.”
Matt grinned, pushing himself away from the wall. “Of course I was. What are you going to do? Call the police? Get them to come tell me off for saying mean words? Get over yourself, Harry. And while you’re at it, get over Iz, too.”
Harry’s mouth opened like a goldfish, unable to come up with a response.
Matt wrapped his hand around her middle and the tightness in her chest dissipated. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. I suddenly have a whole heap of adrenaline I need to burn off.”
The look in his eyes made her insides melt. Heat. Fire. Passion. “Thank you for not hitting him.”
Matt rubbed his thumb along the side of her hand as they walked down the corridor. “Our one day shouldn’t have fighting in it, but I couldn’t let his comment slide.”
“I appreciate you standing up for my honour.”
“Always.”
They took the stairs to the room and once at the door, she felt the need to make one thing clear. “I did give blow jobs…you know, in case you hoped our one day would include them.”
Matt placed his hand on her cheek. “You don’t need to if you don’t—”
“No. It’s just…Harry used to do that thing. He’d get carried away. He’d grip the side of my face to hold me in place and…”
Matt cupped her cheek. “You should have let me hit him,” he said softly. “Fuck it, I might just go back down and knock him out for the hell of it.”
Izabel smiled. “You would if I gave the word, wouldn’t you?”
“You’d be surprised what I’d do for you, Izabel.”
She only wished it were true.
7
“Go take your make-up off, sweetheart,” Matt said, as they entered the room.
Izabel looked up at him in surprise. “But I thought we were…”
He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “We are. But when we are done, I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. I’ll be right here, so don’t let thoughts carry you away in there. It took a decade to get here, and I’ve had twenty-hours hours of you in my arms. Waiting a few minutes more won’t change my mind.”
He saw her shoulders relax. “Okay, I won’t be long.”
Matt turned on the bedside light and killed all the others so the room was lit in a warm glow. He also used the time to take a few deep breaths. Mixed emotions roiled through him. The thought of Harry with his hands on Izabel made him sick. While he’d never show it, Harry’s words had cut deep.
He’d not wanted to think of Jase and Izabel tonight. This was his and Izabel’s day, and he needed a moment to cleanse the thoughts of her with anybody else from his mind.
It wasn’t the fact she had a past that bothered him, hell, he had a long one too. It was who she’d been with. He needed to clear the ghosts of them out of the room. With a tug, he pulled the curtains wide to the night sky and opened the window.
He thought back to the day they’d met. To the day Luke had taken him home to the two-bedroomed house on Willaston Close with the bright blue door and the staircase with the big white handrail that ran along one wall of the small living room. He’d been twelve and Izabel nine. And somewhere along the way, she’d changed from Luke’s annoying younger sister to Luke’s beautiful and compassionate little sister, to Iz.
Iz, who only had to smile at him to set his heart on fire.
Iz, who asked smart questions and reminded him of what he’d achieved when he could only see what he hadn’t.
Iz who was currently taking off her make-up so he could take her to bed.
Iz who made him feel like he was more than enough rather than the guy who hadn’t quite made it.
When the door to the bathroom opened and Izabel stepped out wearing nothing but lacy underwear the same shade as her dress and a smile, his dick stood to full attention and ached. “Hey,” she said.
He walked toward her. “You’re perfect.” He slid his hands into her hair and kissed her. Gently at first, an exploration of her lips, before turning heated. Their tongues duelled.
Izabel gripped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it from his pants before sliding her hands beneath it to stroke his skin.
He could have sworn his dick started leaking at the first touch of her. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted her skin on his. Quickly, he stepped back, opened enough buttons to tug his shirt off over his head, and threw it to the floor. When he pulled Izabel back into his arms, he groaned. “God, you feel good.”
With one flick of the strap, Matt undid her strapless bar and pulled it from between the two of them. Her nipples, a round dusky pink, stood to attention, and he ran his hand along her waist and ribs until he could rub his thumb lazily over one erect peak.
“Matt,” Izabel gasped.
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
He bent slightly and sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and over her nipple. When this night was over, he’d never forget the sounds of pleasure she’d made as he sucked on her. The way the gasp caught in the back of her throat, the way her breath warmed his shoulder.
In one simple motion, he picked her up, and Izabel wrapped her arms and legs around him as he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the cool sheets. Even though his body urged him to strip them of the remainder of their clothes and dive into the heat of Izabel’s body, he stood back and looked at her.
Blonde hair spread messily on the covers. Without the make-up she wore, he could see the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She looked up at him through fair lashes as her tongue ran across those plump lips of hers.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is fucking perfect, Iz.” He reached for her panties and slid them over her hips, inhaling the musky scent of her as he did so.
Christ, he wanted to fuck her so badly he could practically taste her. But if this was all they could ever add up to, the sum of this one night, then he intended to squeeze everything out of their time together. He wanted to kiss her, lick her, suck her, and fuck her. He wanted to make love to her, and dance naked. Shower with her. He wanted to take her slowly on the bed and fuck her standing up against the wall. He needed to create a lifetime of memories he could take out and look at for the rest of his life.
Matt removed the rest of his clothes, knowing the next time he touched Iz, they’d both be naked. “Do you have any preferences, Iz? Anything you really want us to do?”
Izabel looked down his body, and he hoped she liked what she saw. “Everything, Matt. Do everything.”
Wanting the evening to last, he denied his dick any immediate relief by climbing onto the bed and lying down next to her. He propped himself up on his elbow and trailed his fingers along her skin. Up the length of her arm, along the dip of her clavicle, between her breasts, down her abdomen to her belly button. A trail of goose bumps forming where he touched her soft skin.
“Kiss me, Iz,” he said, tugging her to him.
As if sensing his mood, or perhaps feeling as he did, that this part of the evening didn’t need to be rushed or hurried, she rolled toward him. Matt placed his hand on her back, holding her to him, as she kissed him. Slow, spine-tingling kisses, languorous sweeps of her tongues, gentle bites on his lower lips.
But the whole time, their eyes remained open, focused on each other intently.
He slipped his leg between hers and groaned as it met her damp core. Matt rolled the two of them so Izabel was beneath him and ignored the fact it would take nothing to slide deep inside her. Slowly, he trailed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, grinning as she giggled.
“Tickles,” she gasped, as he lowered his head and kissed the swell of her breast. He dragged his tongue across her nipple. It was firm as he sucked it into his mouth.
Izabel’s body arched beneath him, and he made a note as to just how sensitive her nipples were. Matt repeated the action on her other breast.
He moved down her body, pressing his lips to her ribs, to the warm skin just below her belly button, over the thin strip of hair, until he could open her to him. Pink lips, her clit already aroused, wetness just from his kisses.
As he got comfortable, his shoulders between her thighs, he looked up at Izabel. “Is this okay?”
Izabel bit her lower lip and nodded. “Please, Matt.”
One stroke of his tongue was all it took. One sweep of her essence to know the sweetness of it would stick with him forever. As he got to know every part of her, as he explored her depths, he relished her responses. So genuine and honest. She gasped as he circled and sucked on her clit, she moaned and reached for his hair when he thrust is tongue inside her as far as it could go. Her hips thrust towards his face when he slipped one and then two fingers deep inside her.
“You taste so good, Iz,” he gasped, grinding his dick into the mattress to find some relief from the ache.
“Don’t stop,” Izabel cried, her movements becoming more frantic. She was close, he could feel it as she tightened around his fingers. A faint mottled red flush covered her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open.
Fuck, he was coming to come just watching her get off. He forced himself to think through the names of the 2017-18 Manchester City squad just to take the edge off, but it only lasted a moment, his attention focused on Izabel as she came on his fingers, against his face.
“Matt, yes,” she cried out, her fingers clutching the bedding.
He slowed his pace, easing her down, licking up the evidence of her orgasm before he slid his fingers from within her. Unable to reign in the emotions he felt, he pressed his forehead to her stomach and lay there as she caught her breath. How the hell was he supposed to walk away from her now he knew how she sounded and tasted and moved as she fell apart?
Izabel’s fingers slipped into his hair, gently scratching his scalp with her trimmed nails. It was soothing and needed. He felt like a pot left on boil too long.
“Are you okay, Matt?” Izabel asked softly.
He forced himself to look at her and answer honestly. “That was intense, and I just needed a minute.”
The whisper of her smile told him she understood.
Matt looked as she felt.
Thunderstruck.
As she laid her head on the bed, threading her fingers through Matt’s hair, she caught her literal and figurative breath.
For a moment, she debated whether she should stop the whole thing. Not because she didn’t want him. Not because she didn’t want to know what it would feel like as Matt slid his amply proportioned dick inside her, because she did. But she wondered what it would take to recover from this. To recover from having something so wonderfully special and momentous, only to wake up tomorrow and it all be gone like smoke.
Matt pushed himself up on his arms and reached into the bedside table. He grabbed a box of condoms from the drawer. The fact it was a new box baffled her, pulling her out of the moment.
“You brought a box?”
Matt smiled sheepishly. “Popped down to the Tesco Express while you were having your photographs taken after the service. Seemed like one day like this would need more than the one I had in my wallet.”
Izabel bit back a grin as his words lifted the heaviness she’d felt only moments before. She watched as he opened the box, pulled one out, tore into the packet, and then slid it on his length.
“I like your confidence.”
Matt grinned. “Got to be honest, watching you come…nearly didn’t make it to needing one.” He laid back down on the bed next to her. “Come here.”
He encouraged her to climb across his lap, her sensitive clit pressed up against him. Matt slid his hands along her thighs, along the curve of her arse, and up her back before pulling her down to his chest.
When his lips met hers again, the maelstrom started all over again. His touch electrified her, his fingers played her body as effectively as he played his guitar…confident strokes and varying pressure creating the most wonderful music.
“Ride me, Iz.”
She rose onto her knees as Matt held his dick right at her entrance. Need pulsed through her as she lowered herself slowly onto him, just the thick head at first, then lifting before lowering herself halfway. She sighed at the sensation of being stretched, of being filled so thoroughly.
Matt caressed her thighs, her arse, as he looked up at her from lust-filled eyes. She pulled herself up again and lowered as Matt thrust up to meet her, settling himself deep within her.
“Matt,” she gasped, falling to his chest to kiss him.
“Sweetheart.” His hands pushed her hair back from her face, holding her in place, his lips inches from hers as he looked at her.
