Putting It to the Test Read online

  She watched her chest rise and fall as she worked to catch her breath, the pressure between her legs mounting when he slipped a second finger inside and began circling her clit faster.

  “I want to come,” she begged.

  “Watch it happen for me.” He circled closer, brushing against her nub and nearly sending her over the edge before he pulled back away.

  “Look at the need in those eyes,” he whispered.

  Her eyes were needy.

  “Look at your beautiful mouth, lips full and moist, open for me as you move closer to the edge.”

  She sucked in a breath as he swept back in, stroking over her clit and sending another wash of tingles shooting through her.

  “Look how you’re squirming against me. You’re getting me harder.”

  Grasping handfuls of pale yellow sheets in her fists, she arched against his hand, needing more pressure, aching for the climax he continued to deny.

  “You’re close, aren’t you?”

  “Please,” she whispered, and he obeyed, moving in for the final few strokes.

  “I’ll give it to you, but you’ve got to watch.”

  She held her eyes on the wild, pleading woman in the mirror.

  “Watch yourself shatter in my arms,” he said, sweeping over her clit again. “Then you can watch me as I bring you to your knees and fuck you from behind.”

  The bold comment shot straight through her and she came apart in his arms, her eyes squeezing shut from the tight and violent clench between her thighs, her body convulsing against him, her back rocking against his stiff cock, getting him harder, making him ready for the promise he’d just made.

  And heaven help her, but she wanted to see it. The very idea of watching him thrusting into her carried her climax for another beat before the waves settled and she calmed against his chest. Her eyes were heavy and her cheeks red as cherries.

  For a long moment she rested, Matt’s hands toying with her breasts, lightly stroking her nipples until her breathing resumed. She raised her eyes to his.

  “My turn,” he said, nudging her forward, then coaxing her to her knees.

  As she stared at them both in the mirror, she saw him grab a condom and sheath himself, his erection twitching as he rolled the latex over his shaft. Then he positioned himself behind her and guided her down on all fours.

  She glanced in the mirror before her, liking the image she saw staring back at her. Her hair hung haphazardly around her face, dipping over one eye the way she’d seen in sexy Cosmopolitan shots. Bent over like this, her breasts appeared fuller and her thighs more shapely rather than plump. Her lips and cheeks were still flushed from her climax, and with a thrill that nearly startled her she realized she actually felt sexy. In fact, she felt more than sexy. She felt hot.

  “Arch your back, baby,” he said, slipping two fingers into her and using them to guide his cock to her entrance.

  She did, and he scooted closer, widening his legs to get lower as he clutched a hand to her hip and readied himself. Then with a smooth, slow thrust, he pushed himself inside, his face relaxing with a sigh as he slid into her slick core until the base of his shaft met the soft rounds of her ass.

  “You’re so tight like this,” he groaned, and she arched up farther, wanting to take him in more.

  Already her pulse began a steady climb as his thick, heavy cock filled her. He stroked his hands over her hips and around her waist, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror as he moved and thrust behind her. The muscles along his arms, chest and abs rolled and contorted, the veins along his pecs bulging as he gripped her tighter and increased the pressure.

  The man was ravishing, statuesque in this naked form, with eyes, dark and focused, savoring her body as if it were a fine piece of art. And when she was with him like this, that’s how she felt. Valuable and precious, sexy and desired, her power to move him to climax not missed in the reflection in the mirror.

  His expression grew more intent, his face coloring under the stubble of his beard. She wanted to see him unravel inside her, watch this tight, controlled man succumb to complete withdrawal. The anticipation throbbed against her already-swelling sex. He wrapped his hands around her and began stroking her again, a dark smile curving his lips when her eyes met his in warning. She was brimming near the edge, and as his playful look sobered, she knew he was brimming, as well.

  Pushing and stroking, they upped the beat, faster and faster until her cheeks slapped against his waist and the ache of restraint burned red in his face. “Oh, babe,” he cried, then he followed it up with a curse, his gaze churning toward need as the pressure built and the pace quickened.

  Digging her fingers into the eyelet comforter, ripples of pleasure swept through her, slow at first, then picking up speed as he drove them both to ecstasy. And when he pressed his lips together and the first signs of climax crossed his features, she came apart completely.

  She didn’t recognize the deep wail as the sound of her own voice, her tight muscles clamping hard around him as the orgasm swept her away. Her eyes shut tight as hot white beams ripped through her, but she pulled them open in time to watch him unravel. His body bucking and jerking against her, he shoved his cock deeper, pushing harder and farther until his back curved into hers.

  He pressed his lips between her shoulder blades, his warm breath dampening the skin under his loving kisses. Sweat set their bodies aglow under the darkening afternoon sky, and the only movement or sound between them was the pull of heavy breathing as they worked to regain their composure.

  Still squat on her hands and knees, her arms began to tremble. He pulled away, scooped her into his arms and rolled against the bed, cradling her into his chest.

  His breath still deep from climax, he brushed the hair from her neck and whispered in her ear, “You still got a problem with mirrors?”

  She chuckled. “No. I think I’ll keep the closet doors for a while.”

  He turned her to face him, and the look in his eyes stabbed at something deep inside her.

  “You realize you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” He used a finger to swipe a strand of hair from her face. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

  And with that one statement, with his soft, loving gaze and gentle caress, Carly realized she’d gone and done it.

  She’d just fallen head over heels for Matt Jacobs.

  14

  MATT LAY ON HIS back in a dark, desolate room, fighting for air, the weight against his chest getting heavier, pressing harder with each passing moment. Blackness enveloped him. The only sound filling his ears was that of a lone bird chirping. He tried to move his arms, but they remained fastened in place by restraints he couldn’t feel or see. He tried to cry out, but his voice was silent, his body frozen.

  The vise around his chest tightened, weighing like bricks against his ribs, forcing his lungs to accept only slight shallow breaths. And as every moment passed, the vise clamped harder.

  The bird chirped. He gasped for air, wishing desperately he could lash out in this blackened space and free himself from the bonds that held him captive. Air. He needed air. But the weight continued to press and squeeze against his breath. He felt a shroud coming over him, the dark mass of a life nearing its end, and just as he was certain he’d gulped in his last and final breath, his eyes flipped open.

  He glanced around the room, the dark cloak clearing as he worked to find his bearings. This was Carly’s bedroom, the lone chirping a bird calling from the purple plum tree outside the window at his right. It had been a dream, a weird, crazy dream, the remnants of which still weighed heavily on his chest.

  Relieved yet still unsettled, he raised a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes and bumped into something fuzzy. Startled, he looked down to find a ten-pound ball of gray fur rolled up on his chest.

  Fricking cat!

  He grabbed Mr. Doodles and tossed him off the side, the cat spouting out a complaint as it landed feetfirst on the floor. He held a hand to his ribs and took a deep breath,
relief flooding through him when the air came in easily, no longer restrained by the weight of the animal.

  Now he knew why he preferred dogs.

  To his left, Carly slept soundly, her faced pressed against a pale blue pillow, long eyelashes fanned out over two rosy cheeks. Judging by the light from the window, he guessed it was early, the sun barely peeking over the hills to the east.

  He propped up on his elbows and felt a thud at the base of the bed as Mr. Doodles jumped back up. The cat stopped near his feet and stared him down, obviously expecting Matt to lie back so he could return to his bare-chested bed.

  Think again, Doodle dude.

  The cat took a seat and waited. Matt lifted his lip and sneered. Doodles simply blinked.

  Matt slipped back against the headboard and crossed his arms at his chest, letting the cat know the spot was gone.

  Doodles licked a paw and waited, letting Matt know he had all day.

  So much for sleeping in.

  Dropping his feet to the floor, he went in search of his jeans, pulling them on and then finding his watch on the maple dresser. Seven-fourteen. Far too early for a Saturday morning, but he was awake now and intent on finding some strong, hot coffee. So he padded out of the bedroom with Doodles at his feet, quietly closing the door behind him so at least one of them could get some sleep.

  He passed her living room, picking up the pizza box and empty bottle of wine from the coffee table as he made his way toward the kitchen. Aside from a short pause for dinner, they’d spent the better part of the evening in bed, getting acquainted with a number of sexual fantasies Carly had dreamed up. Matt had been all too willing to assist her in playing each one of them out.

  By the time they’d hit exhaustion they hadn’t even tapped the list, leaving plenty more to get to. Maybe they’d do that today.

  Stepping through the house and into the kitchen, he flicked on a light and began rummaging through the cupboards, tracking down coffee and filters, Doodle Dude making figure eights around his ankles every time he paused. Matt suspected the cat was after the half-empty can of cat food he’d seen in the refrigerator, and noting the empty dish near her tiny dinette, he popped it out and fed the cat his breakfast.

  With the coffee brewing and Doodle Dude busy, Matt went to work cleaning up the mess from last night’s dinner. He remembered seeing garbage cans lined up against her garage, so, picking up the empty pizza box, he stepped out the front door and headed down the rose-lined walkway.

  A neighbor across the street, a woman who appeared to be in her midsixties, looked up from a bed of purple flowers and waved. Her warm, friendly eyes a pleasant but unexpected sight this early in the morning.

  The condominium complex where Matt lived had stairs leading to separate garages, and despite the tight-knit quarters they all shared, he rarely saw any of his neighbors. Each unit backing up to the water, there were no shared open spaces for residents to gather and meet, and though he’d lived there for more than three years now, he couldn’t name more than one or two of his neighbors.

  By the looks of this short court, he guessed Carly knew everyone on the street. Each house was maintained with obvious care despite the age and modest size. This was a block that spoke of residents who took pride in their slice of America, and Matt knew that pride included looking out for each other.

  He wondered how many of them would be chatting about him before the day was over.

  Nodding, he smiled and returned a greeting before the woman went back to her flats of flowers and clumps of rich, fragrant dirt. After tossing the empty box, he stepped back inside to the luscious smell of fresh brewing coffee.

  Carly’s kitchen faced the front walkway. While Matt savored his first cup he took in the view from the window over her sink, the neighbor’s flowers across the street, the Saab in the driveway next to it, a large play structure peeking from the backyard of the house to its right. Two homes had decorative flags attached to the garages, one of bright-colored flowers and the other a friendly Easter bunny, grinning well past his prime given they were heading toward June.

  But still the sight warmed him, and he recalled a time he’d forgotten when he’d planned to someday have a family and a home of his own.

  Back then his dreams included a house six times this size in a wealthy community like the ones a typical pro ballplayer lived in. When he made the big leagues and established himself as a regular, he was going to trade in his fetish for noncommittal women and look for a settling-down type. He hadn’t wanted to get serious about a family until he’d accomplished the first of his dreams. And when that dream ended in the nightmare of defeat, he’d swept away those thoughts in the aftermath, never coming back to the idea again until this very moment.

  Once his baseball career ended, he’d been too absorbed in despair and self-pity. And once he overcame that, he’d become consumed by his new career. Thoughts of a wife and family had been distant echoes of his past.

  At least they had been before Carly.

  Now, ever since that survey, since seeing this quirky little house she so desperately wanted as a home, ideas of love and family and futures had come full circle. And as he clutched the mug in his hands and stared out over this little slice of Mayberry, he had trouble shirking them off.

  Having finished his meal, Mr. Doodles hopped up on the counter at Matt’s side, the cat licked down a patch of fur, then came to rest near the sink. He stared up at Matt until Matt’s softer nature prompted him to reach out and give the thing a pet.

  He sort of liked this little place, even wondering for a moment if the large wealthy community of his old dreams would have really been the life he sought. Like Carly, he’d never had a real home, and in the cold, closed community of mansions and private drives, he wondered how happy he really would have been.

  Life has a way of fixing things for us.

  It was another of Stu’s favorite phrases, and up until now Matt hadn’t really swallowed its meaning. But gazing out into the calm, quiet morning, the phrase came back to him in this odd way he hadn’t considered.

  He stared down at the cat. “So what do you think, Doodle Dude? You like it here?”

  The cat responded with a squeak, then rammed his head into Matt’s side, demanding more of that petting thing he’d started. The sound of shuffling feet caught his attention, and he looked up toward the hallway to see Carly stepping into the kitchen wrapped in a fluffy white robe so big it seemed to consume her. Her lids were heavy, a crinkled sheet mark still etched across her cheek and her hair hanging in tufts about her face.

  “I smell coffee,” she said, lifting her chin to view the counter rather than open her eyes farther.

  Matt pulled down a second mug. “What do you take in it?”

  She shuffled to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk. “Just this,” she said.

  With sleepy, robotic moves, she set down the milk, grabbed Mr. Doodles and plopped him to the floor as if this were a morning ritual they’d been sharing for some time now.

  “I already fed him,” he said.

  Her only reply was a nod.

  He smiled. “Not quite awake yet?” She shook her head and he topped her coffee with a splash of milk, then placed it in her hands. “Here. Maybe this will help.”

  She took a quick sip before setting the mug on the counter, choosing instead to wrap her fuzzy arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest. Taking a long, dragging breath, she hummed a sleepy groan of pleasure. “This is better.”

  He held her against him and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, it is.”

  “You don’t have to leave, do you?”

  He chuckled. “You want to continue what we started last night?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “You?”

  He set his mug next to hers, pulled her close and soaked in the fluffy feel of her, the strawberry essence of her hair and the warm press of her lips against his skin.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I d
o.”

  “ARE WE GOING FOR our walk today?” Bev asked over the wall of Carly’s cubicle.

  Carly scoffed. “No way,” she said. “It’s supposed to be in the nineties today.”

  “You wimp.”

  “I’m not a wimp. I just don’t think collapsing from heat exhaustion is a great way to spend my lunch hour.” She grabbed a sprig of her hair and pulled it toward her face. “Besides, I got good curl in my hair this morning. One lap around the park will flatten it like a pancake.”

  “We’re supposed to be getting fit.”

  Carly decided against reminding Bev that she was the one on the get-fit campaign. Carly had been getting enough exercise these last couple days between painting baseboards in her house and spending her evenings trying new acrobatics with Matt.

  Instead she chose to state the obvious. “You can go without me, you know.”

  Bev mocked a laugh. “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.” She stepped around the cubicle wall and took a seat at Carly’s desk. “Okay, well, if I’m going to skip my exercise, I might as well go on a roll and have something bad for lunch. How about we go to Quimbly’s? I haven’t had a burger in weeks.”

  Carly shook her head. “Let’s do something lighter. Matt’s taking me out to dinner tonight to celebrate releasing the beta version of the new Singles Inc. site.”

  “Oh, fine. Ditch me so you can save yourself for your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “You’ve been inseparable ever since that weekend. I’d call that a boyfriend.”

  Carly reached in her drawer and pulled out her purse. “How about Sub Shack? It’s two-for-one Friday.”

  Bev shrugged her acceptance and the two women headed for the restaurant, Bev agreeing that Carly had been right about the walk once they stepped out into the hot air. It was a rare day where the humidity was high, so both women were sweating by the time they covered the two blocks to the Sub Shack and stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant.

  They made their way past the counter, Carly ordering her favorite sandwich—a vegetarian with Swiss cheese on a whole-wheat roll, coupled with a bag of sour-cream-andonion potato chips and a Diet Coke. Bev picked a turkey club, insisting on at least splurging with bacon since she’d decided to blow her diet today.