Reparation

Page 1

  Monday’s usually suck, but not today. I step off the elevator, and I have a bit of a spring in my step. I’m looking awesome in my black pencil skirt with a white, silk, wraparound blouse. I’m wearing the Louboutins that Matt first f**ked me in, and I’m on top of the world.

  Bea does a double take when she sees me. “Damn, Mac… you look fantastic. ”

  Yes, I curled my hair today, put on a little extra makeup, and fine… I actually put on a darker shade of lipstick to accentuate my mouth so that when Matt looked at it, he would think of a wet bl*w j*b.

  But I can’t help it… I want to be pretty for Matt today. I want him not to have a doubt in the world that I’m the best damn risk he’ll ever take.

  “Thanks, Bea,” I chirp at her and sashay by.

  “He’s a negative five by the way,” she calls out.

  I stop and turn around to look at her, my eyes wide in wonder. “A negative five?”

  “Yeah, it kind of freaked me out. He came in with boxes of donuts for everyone. He smiled at me, and I swear a freakin’ rainbow shot out of his butt. He even complimented the scarf that I’m wearing. ”

  I giggle because Bea sounds totally shell shocked by Matt’s behavior. It was only last week he was cursing at the staff, causing them to run from the office in tears. But just this weekend… he and I made our amends, and Matt asked me out on a date.

  I squeal inside like a high school drama queen. Yay, me!

  Matt had called me Sunday as soon as he got home. We talked for almost two hours and he did, indeed, ask me out for a date on Friday night. I’m not sure what exactly changed for Matt, but he seemed to let go of all of his fear and anger, and he actually seems to be embracing this attempt to have a real relationship with me.

  I’m on f**king Cloud Nine.

  When I get in my office, the first thing I spy is the white daisy laying on my desk on top of a cream-colored envelope. Picking up the flower, I hold it to my nose and smell its wildness. I set it back down and open the envelope. There’s a cream, linen card on the inside that says:

  I don’t think I can wait for Friday to take you on a date.

  How about tonight?

  Matt

  The swelling of elation inside me is overwhelming. I hum with unbridled energy, and I feel like I could conquer the world. Because Matt Fucking Connover… the man that is relationship averse and emotionally closed off… cannot wait until Friday to go on a date with me.

  It’s like I’m in high school and just got asked to the prom by the star quarterback. I want to jump around my office and do a little dance.

  In fact, I think I will. Hopping back a few feet from my desk, I bend my knees, stick my ass out, and shake it all around, while waving my arms in the air.

  I’m pumped up… high on Matt.

  “That’s some pretty funky dancing. ”

  Yelping, I spin to the doorway and see Matt causally leaning against it, his hands in his pockets and the cutest grin on his face, making his dimples extra deep.

  My face flushes hot, but then I decide to own it. Sticking my chin up, I say, “I was just excited. It appears I might have a hot date tonight. ”

  Matt does his quick look left and right down the hall, and satisfied that no one is around, steps into my office. He shuts the door and walks up to me with purpose, a cocky grin on his face.

  He is spectacular today, wearing a dark gray suit with a blue power tie. It’s tailored so well, I can practically see the muscles in his shoulders straining against it.

  Matt takes his right hand and skims his fingers along the side of my neck, all the way around to the base of my skull. I feel his hand open wide and then he grabs a handful of my hair, twisting it several times around his wrist. When he has me well and truly captured, he pulls slightly, causing my head to tilt back and expose my throat. Bending over, he places light kisses along my jaw, all the way to my ear, where he murmurs, “I take that is a yes to my invitation to go out tonight?”

  I nod my head, even though he has my hair tightly fisted.

  “Good,” he says roughly against my ear and then pulls away, releasing his hold on me. My knees are shaking slightly, and I guarantee you I have an utterly stupid look on my face. Yes, with just a few whispered words and light kisses, Matt has rendered me the village idiot.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight. The restaurant I’m taking you to is dressy,” he says as he opens my office door to leave. “Oh, and Mac?”

  “Huh?”

  Yup… still the village idiot.

  “Do me a favor… wear those white, lace boy shorts tonight under your dress. You know… the ones that drive me crazy?”

  I just nod at him, the power of speech gone… obliterated… destroyed.

  I almost collapse when he shoots me a radiant smile, which causes his dimples to pucker deep. He gives me a quick wink, and then he’s gone.

  He told me Sunday to have patience with him… that he wasn’t sure that he was very good at this dating thing.

  Who is he kidding?

  He’s f**king fantastic at it so far!

  Our first date could not have gone off any better if a Hollywood screenwriter had choreographed it.

  When Matt picked me up at my apartment, he didn’t bring me flowers. Instead, he had a full carton of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Peppermint Crunch, because I had made some obscure reference to it one night after we had sex. He walked into my kitchen and put it in my freezer, telling me that it was for dessert later.

  He then took me to a lovely restaurant that was quietly intimate. I’m not sure if he arranged it ahead of time, but we got seated in the back in a tiny corner that sort of cut us off from the rest of the patrons. The wine was spectacular, the waiter unobtrusive, and the conversation flowed with such ease that I felt like I’d known Matt for years.

  I was worried about it honestly. Whether or not we could have normal conversation that didn’t revolve around phrases such as, “That feels so good” and, “Harder, please. ”

  Turns out, we converse quite well. We laughed, we joked, and most special of all, Matt told me about his son, Gabe. He spoke with such pride, such love… such unconditional emotion, that I almost had tears in my eyes. Matt the Cold-Hearted—which would have been his Viking name if, well if he were a Viking—had the squishiest, warmest soft spot for a little seven-year-old boy.

  He didn’t say much about his ex-wife, Marissa, other than she had primary custody of Gabe, but he had liberal visitation. In fact, he reminds me of the day I had asked him if he had plans one weekend, after we had returned from Chicago. He reminds me with a soft laugh that I looked green with jealousy when he had told me that he did, in fact, have plans all weekend. He assured me tonight that said plans were with a little, brown-haired boy, and that was the only thing that would have kept him away from me.

  My skin went all warm when he told me that, and my heartbeat hummed out in appreciation.

  Now dinner is done, and we are back at my apartment. I unlock the door and open it, stepping into the foyer. Matt grabs ahold of my wrist and stops me.

  “This is where I give you a kiss and say goodnight,” he says as he pulls me close to his body, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  My hands dig into his chest muscles slightly with surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me. Kiss me good night, and then I’m heading home. ”

  “Oh, hell no,” I say with sass and gumption. “You had me specifically wear lace panties for you, and I’ve been thinking about you peeling them off me all night. There’s no way you’re going home, buddy. ”

  Matt leans in to give me a quick kiss, smiling with amusement when he pulls back. “You are adorable, but I’m being a gentleman t
onight. I’m showing you that you are more than just sex to me. ”

  “You’ve shown me that already,” I whine like a big baby. “I want sex… tonight!”

  Chuckling, Matt says, “Are you pouting?”

  I stick my lower lip way, way out.

  “No,” I grumble and stomp my foot down.

  “Did you just stomp your foot?” he asks with a smirk.

  “I’m a grown woman,” I snap as I stomp my other foot. “I would never do something as childish as that. ”

  Matt releases my waist and brings his hands up to clasp my head. He presses his lips to mine, and I can still taste the smoky peat of the Scotch he drank tonight. My mouth opens, and his tongue slips in. I sigh, and my body melts into his.

  Then he kisses me deeply… with quiet hunger.

  I feel starved for him, and I whimper when he pulls away.

  “Tell you what,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and looking me straight in the eye. “How about I tuck you into bed?”

  My eyes alight with victory, but he squashes it instantaneously.

  “I will not be f**king you though,” he says firmly.

  My lower lip goes back out, and he reaches down to nip at it.

  “However,” he says with a lecherous smile. “I could be persuaded to peel those panties off you. I mean… if it’s really that big of a deal to you. ”

  I jump up and down like a schoolgirl, clapping my hands in excitement. “Yes, please. Panties and bra. Tuck me in, tuck me in!”

  Matt busts out laughing and scoops me up in his arms. Kicking the door shut, he walks through the living room. Macy is on the couch, watching CNN. She glances up at us, her mouth hanging open, as Matt carries me by. I shoot her a quick wave and a broad grin as he takes me to my bedroom.

  I bounce on the mattress slightly when Matt drops me there. He’s efficient… wasting no effort and, within seconds, I’m lying there in only my white, lace bra and boy shorts. His eyes feast on me, roving over every part of my body.

  Looking up at him with my most seductive stare, I stick my foot out and run it up the inside of his leg, causing his gaze to move from my br**sts down to where I’m getting perilously close to his cock. “Matt… please don’t leave me like this. I’m dying here. ”

  I can see his erection pushing hard against his pants, and I move my foot to gently rub over it. He hisses out in pleasure, but then grabs my foot and lowers it to the bed.

  “I’d never leave you wanting, McKayla,” he tells me with lust flooding his words.

  Crawling onto the bed in between my legs, Matt does indeed peel my panties off me. He lays his fingertips in the center of my chest, and then lightly drags them down my body, straight down in between my thighs. I arch off the bed like a cat stretching after its morning milk when he slips a finger inside of me.

  I stare at him in fascination, because he’s staring at me in fascination… where his hand is wedged firmly against me. His gaze slowly moves up and locks with my own.

  “Watch, Mac,” he whispers, and then nods his head back down to my hips. Both of our eyes travel south, and mine stayed glued to his hand working me.

  But then the feelings get to be too much. My blood is pumping faster, and Matt’s fingers are hitting deeper. My eyes have no choice but to flutter closed as my head falls back in utter surrender. I hear Matt give a soft laugh at my ability to do nothing more than focus on my feelings, and he adds his thumb to the mixture of pleasure.

  Then I’m flying high and a long moan flows up from my throat and filters into the air, just as my body earthquakes itself into an orgasm. It shreds me from the inside out and seems to go on for an eternity. I’m completely wrecked when it finally stops spasming.

  I’m vaguely aware of Matt removing his fingers from me. It sort of penetrates my brain that he’s covering me up with my comforter. I’m almost asleep by the time he presses his lips to my forehead and says, “Good night. ”

  “Good night,” I murmur back, and then I’m out.

  Being in a new relationship is fun, particularly if you have someone that has a good sense of humor. For example, check out this text exchange between Matt and me this morning.