Sunset In Central Park Read online

  He pushed her back until her shoulders were pressed up against the door. She could feel the hardness of his thighs caging hers, and feel the thickened pressure of him against her. Trapped, she gave a little moan and wrapped her arms around the solid power of his shoulders.

  Kissing Matt was a whole-body experience. She felt it right through her, little shivers of excitement chasing across her skin and sliding into her limbs. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, her fingers digging into hard male muscle. She was grateful for his strength because she wasn’t confident she could rely on her own body to keep her upright. Fortunately, she didn’t need to worry about that because he kept her clamped against the solid power of his body, holding her trapped while he kissed her. His mouth was hot and hungry, his kiss both demanding and explicit. His free hand slid upward, cupping the heavy weight of her breast through the thin layers of her clothing. It was the first time he’d touched her so intimately and she tensed. He paused and then dragged his thumb slowly over the tip. Sensation shot through her like a lightning bolt and she moaned against his mouth. The craving was so acute it was hard to stay still. She felt his hand tighten on her hip, holding her still while the other continued to tease every nerve ending in her body with slow, delicious strokes that left her shaking. She could feel the hard, heavy ridge of him pressing against her and still he kissed her, holding her trapped.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She didn’t want him touching her through her clothing; she wanted to feel all of it and she urged his hand down to the hem of her shirt. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he flicked open the buttons and pulled off her shirt, so that all that was between her and him was the confection of silk and lace that Eva had insisted she wear. She didn’t feel him unfasten it but he must have because she felt the soft slide of fabric whisper over her skin as it slid to the floor. And then he drew her deeper into the warmth of his mouth and she closed her eyes. His tongue slid in slow, delicious circles that sent her excitement levels soaring. Until that moment she’d had no idea that pleasure could be agonizing.

  Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

  He deposited her onto a downy nest of cushions and throws and she sank into a swirling world of sensation as he finished undressing her. Matt ripped off his shirt and she had a brief glimpse of taut muscle before he came down on top of her. The hair on his chest grazed supersensitive skin and then he was kissing her again.

  The window was open, and the only sounds were the hiss of the sea as it lapped at the sand and the uneven tone of Matt’s breathing as he kissed his way down her body and eased her thighs apart.

  For Frankie, sex had always been a deeply unsatisfying fumble in the dark, but the cabin caught the full force of the late-afternoon sun, the warmth of the rays spilling over her skin and spotlighting every inch of her naked body.

  She felt the maddeningly gentle flick of Matt’s tongue at the top of her thighs and tried to wriggle away.

  “Stop!” Mortified, she tried to push him away. “You can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too embarrassing—”

  “It’s embarrassing because you’re not used to being naked in front of me? You’ll get used to it.”

  “Matt, I won’t, I—oh—” She closed her eyes as he touched her and a thousand bolts of sensation shot through her body. “You can’t—it’s daylight.”

  “That’s not a reason to stop, that’s an observation.” The soft humor in his voice made her squirm but he held her still, keeping her hips pinned to the bed with his hands.

  “Can we at least wait until dark?”

  “If we wait until dark, I’ll put the lights on. No difference.”

  “Matt—”

  “Trust me. I want you to trust me.” His roughened tone made her face burn. He eased his way back up her body and smoothed his hand through her hair. “Relax. You’re safe, Frankie. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.” He trailed the tips of his fingers over silky, sensitive skin, his touch feathery light. He knew exactly where to touch her, how to touch her. And then he followed the same path with his mouth, until he strayed close to that secret part of her. She felt the warmth of his breath, the touch of his fingers and then the slow, expert slide of his tongue.

  A moan left her lips and she clamped her mouth shut, shocked by herself.

  Previously she’d always been held back by the past, but right now the past was nowhere. There was only the present.

  Her hips shifted against the sheets, but he held her fast, his tongue exploring her aching flesh. He did things to her no one had ever done before, his wickedly clever mouth and fingers driving her excitement levels into the stratosphere. She forgot she was lying naked in a beam of sunlight, forgot that this was Matt, forgot everything except the squirming, delicious pleasure he created with the slow stroke of his tongue and the intimate invasion of his fingers.

  She lay in that impossibly intimate pose, naked in front of him, and utterly vulnerable. She felt her body ripple and tighten as he urged her toward an elusive, mysterious peak. Pleasure escalated, reaching an agonizing pitch, and she felt her body spasm and clench around the pressure of his fingers. She came, dimly aware that she was crying out Matt’s name and telling him not to stop, her body racked by shudders.

  Finally, she lay limp and closed her eyes tightly.

  She felt him move, easing up the bed so that he was lying next to her.

  “Frankie—” His voice was rough. “Look at me.”

  Look at him? Was he kidding? She was never going to be able to look at him again. She covered her face with her hand but then felt his fingers close over her wrist, drawing her hand away. “Leave me, Matt. Seriously. Just—leave me. I’ll make my own way home. We never have to look at each other or have a conversation again. Tell everyone at the wedding that I died.”

  There was a pause and when he spoke there was a trace of amusement in his voice. “Just so I get the story right, what was the cause of death?”

  “Embarrassment.” She felt his fingers on her arm, stroking gently.

  “Why are you embarrassed?”

  “Do you seriously need to ask?”

  Because she’d completely come apart in front of him. She’d yelled his name. She was pretty sure she’d begged him at one point—

  Her face was so hot she could have charred a burger, and Matt curved his palm over her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex, Frankie. And there’s definitely nothing wrong with you.”

  To her utter mortification she felt the hot scald of tears in her eyes.

  Crap, crap, she never cried. Never.

  “Look at me, Frankie—” He pulled her hands away from her eyes and cursed when he saw the glistening dampness on her skin. All traces of amusement faded. “Don’t cry, honey. Shit, don’t cry. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. Next time I’ll take it more slowly. We’ll do it in the dark if that’s really what you want.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t know why I’m crying. I never cry—” she scrubbed the heel of her hand over her face “—except I never knew I could feel like that. I thought I couldn’t—I thought I was—I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his arms, enclosing her in warmth and strength. “You’re the same person you’ve always been, except you’ve learned something new about yourself. We all find out new things about ourselves all the time, Frankie. That’s not a bad thing.”

  It didn’t feel bad, it felt good. All of it felt good and she wanted more.

  How could she possibly want more?

  She kept her face pressed against his chest, absorbing his strength and the male scent of him.

  Tentatively, she slid her hand down his thigh, feeling hard muscle and rough body hair, savoring the differences. Then she covered him with her hand.

  His breathing changed but he said nothing. Just lay there as she explored th
e thickened length of him, touching him in ways she’d never touched anyone before.

  Her tummy clenched, her whole body consumed by an agonizingly sweet ripple of desire.

  “Matt?”

  There was a pause and then the breath hissed through his teeth. “What?”

  “I want you.” It was a simple statement but it expressed her feelings perfectly. She’d never meant anything more in her life.

  He rolled her under him and his eyes burned like blue fire. He shifted his position and she felt heaviness and the intimate brush of his body against hers. The buzz of awareness was back, only this time it was a thousand times more powerful because she knew there was more to discover.

  And she wanted him to be the one to show her.

  His mouth brushed across her jaw, lingering, suggestive. “If you think that was good, I can’t wait to show you how good it’s going to feel when I’m inside you.”

  His words made her breath catch. The anticipation was so acute it was painful.

  Feelings and emotions engulfed her, spilling over, drowning her.

  “Matt—” She dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders. “Please. I want—”

  He silenced her words with his mouth, kissing her with slow, deliberate skill until she was writhing under him. Just when she thought she was going to die of wanting, he eased his mouth from hers long enough to lean across and reach for something.

  Her heart rate rocketed.

  She didn’t know which surprised her most, the fact that this was really going to happen or the fact that she really wanted it to. She’d been so scared to let this happen, but now the moment was here she couldn’t remember why.

  She wrapped her legs around him and pressed close but Matt took his time, sliding his hand down her body, teasing her with skilled, knowing fingers until she was so desperate she could barely stay still. Through the sound of her own breathless gasps she heard his voice close to her ear, urging her to relax and trust him.

  She felt him shift position, and the anticipation was so shocking in its intensity that she held her breath. His hand slid under her bottom and she felt the intimate brush of his body against hers, and then he was inside her, entering her with slow, heavy thrusts, taking his time, allowing her body to adjust to the thickened pressure of his.

  She hadn’t realized she was digging her fingers into his shoulders until he paused.

  “Breathe, honey.” His voice was rough and raw. “I’ll take this slowly.”

  She discovered that she didn’t want to take it slowly and slid her fingers into the silk of his hair, drawing his head down to hers.

  From there it was nothing but sensation. She felt the skilled stroke of his tongue and the roughness of his jaw brush against sensitive flesh. She felt his hands, strong and purposeful, moving over her, positioning her as he wanted her.

  Every thrust took him deeper, sending awareness and emotion rushing through her. She slid her arms around him thinking that this was Matt; Matt, whom she’d known forever.

  The shock and wonder of it fused her brain.

  She arched into him, wondering how anything could feel this mind-blowingly good. For the first time in her life she wasn’t tense, she wasn’t worrying that she wasn’t feeling anything because now she was feeling everything.

  He slid his fingers into hers and dragged her arms above her head.

  She moaned his name against his mouth and he moved with a skilled, steady rhythm that drove her wild. She didn’t have to think about what to do because her body did it by itself, or maybe it was just that Matt knew what to do.

  With a blinding flash of revelation she realized that everything she’d ever believed about sex, and everything she’d believed about herself, had been wrong. She wasn’t bad at it and she didn’t hate it.

  She loved it, and with the right person it felt perfect.

  And Matt was the right person.

  And as that thought settled in her brain, he thrust deep and brought pleasure crashing down on both of them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Surprise is the spice of life. Use liberally.

  —Eva

  Frankie lay with her head on Matt’s chest, her legs entwined with his. She felt the graze of body hair and the solid weight of muscle trapping her against him. Her body felt heavy and unfamiliar, as if he’d taken it apart and put it together again differently. It had been less a slow seduction than a wild unraveling. There were aches and tingles she didn’t recognize. Feelings she didn’t recognize.

  She’d never craved intimacy, but now she’d experienced it she wondered how she’d lived without it.

  “I have a confession.”

  “Hmm?” His eyes were closed. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d devoted himself to disproving every belief she had about herself.

  “I do like sex.”

  “No kidding. I may never be able to move from this bed again. I’ll probably live but it’s too soon to be sure.” His arm was locked around her, and she felt the delicious pressure of his leg on hers.

  There was nothing in Matt’s words to cause her anxiety, but still she sensed a subtle change in him that she couldn’t identify. She decided it was probably down to her own inexperience. What did she know about the way men usually behaved after sex? Nothing.

  “Are you wishing we hadn’t crossed the line?” she asked.

  He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, a ghost of a smile on his mouth. “Which line is that? I think we crossed a few.”

  She felt heat seep into her cheeks. “The line between friends and lovers.”

  “Ah—that one. No. Are you?”

  She decided she could happily drown in those ocean-blue eyes.

  “No.” Looking at him made her feel dizzy with longing. “What happens now?”

  “Right now? I lie here and hope my heart rate eventually returns to normal. I’ll let you know when that happens.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Honey, so am I.” He shifted onto his elbow so that he could see her properly. “What would you like to happen now?”

  “I only have limited experience to draw on, but normally at this point the man says, ‘Thanks, I’ll call you,’ and then walks out and never calls.”

  “I don’t have the energy to haul myself across the room to get a glass of water, let alone walk out the door. And I’m naked.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Which is a complication.”

  “Once you’ve recovered your strength it’s still an option.”

  “It’s not an option for me.” He lowered his head and gave her a lingering kiss. “I’ve known you a long time, Frankie. I know you think relationships always end badly, but ours isn’t going to. Stop thinking about it.”

  “Okay.” She desperately wanted to ask him if he meant their relationship wasn’t going to end badly, or wasn’t going to end at all, but she knew that question was wildly inappropriate so she bit her tongue and said nothing. She was craving reassurance and hated the feeling.

  He stroked his fingers gently across her cheek. “There are a million things I could say to you now, but it’s not the right time.”

  So there was something wrong.

  “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “No.” He eased away from her and her heart bumped.

  She’d known he was hiding something. “I want to know what you’re feeling.”

  “You’re not ready to hear how I’m feeling, but let’s just say I’m not going anywhere. Will you do me a favor?”

  “I already did. Several times.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “I might be. But obviously I’m a flirting virgin so I’ll need you to be gentle with me.”

  He gave a slow smile and lowered his mouth to hers. “I can be gentle if I need to be.” And his kiss was just that. A slow, gentle stirring of her senses that soon had the blood throbbing through her veins. Just when she thought she was going to explode, he lifted his head. “Stop worr
ying, Frankie. Stop analyzing everything and enjoy the moment.”

  She wondered if the reason he wanted her to focus on the moment was because he knew it wasn’t going to last. Was that what he thought she wasn’t ready to hear?

  Crap, what was wrong with her?

  She was in bed with the sexiest man on the planet, who showed no signs of walking out, but still she was lying here waiting for that to happen.

  He was right. She needed to stop analyzing, and she needed to stop using her mother’s butterfly approach to relationships as an example of normal.

  “If all the moments are going to be as good as the ones we just had, I guess I could do that.”

  He hauled her under him in a possessive gesture and she gasped as he settled himself between her thighs.

  He was the most gorgeous guy she’d ever met.

  And he was in her bed.

  Her bed.

  She, Frankie Cole, wasn’t a D minus.

  With Matt she felt sexy and womanly and—

  Happy.

  It was the last coherent thought she had for a long time.

  Matt stepped out of the shower, knotted a towel around his hips and strolled back into the bedroom. Frankie was still lying in the bed, the sheets wrapped around her legs, her hair a blaze of fire across the pillows.

  Her eyes were closed, her thick lashes forming a dark crescent against cheeks the color of whipped cream. He watched her for a moment, feeling like a man who had misjudged a distance and accidentally stepped off a cliff.

  He’d had good sex before, but what he’d shared with Frankie had been so much more than good sex.

  He’d been focused on helping her discover something about herself that she didn’t already know. It hadn’t occurred to him that in the process he’d discover something about himself, too.

  He was used to being in control of his life. He’d thought he had this under control.

  Turned out he’d never been more wrong about anything.