Designing Berlin (4 page)

Had there ever been more two more perfect breasts every created? Touching reverently, he cupped them, testing their weight in his hands. His thumbs stroked over the raised nipples, watching avidly as they tightened and lengthened even more. His cock followed suit. Swallowing hard, he lowered his head, not quite knowing which one to devour first. He closed his eyes and let his mouth make the choice for him, groaning in absolute pleasure as his tongue circled and lashed first one tight bud then the other. Lifting both globes he pushed them together, taking both nipples into his mouth at once. Heaven. A distant thought came unbidden from the deep recesses of his mind. These were the breasts he wanted his children to suckle. He wanted to watch with a mixture of supreme satisfaction and envy as his son took his sustenance here.

Where the hell that thought came from, Matty didn’t know. Oddly, he didn’t care. His grandmother had been fond of saying the soul was far wiser than the head or the heart. He had asked a woman to marry him once for appearances. In his heart, he’d wanted to be admired by the general public, and he’d made more money than he could possibly spend in several lifetimes. His head had led him to make the right investments, the right contacts, the right business moves. But his soul had made him leave all of that behind and return to these mountains. Here he found his equilibrium, and now his soul was telling him it had found what he had been searching for—its other half. He was not one to quibble with his soul; experience had told him that never ended well. Miss Berlin Jameson it was. All he had to do now was convince her.

Berlin could not believe what was happening to her body. She’d hoped and prayed she wouldn’t lament her decision to let this unknown man have his way with her, but she’d no idea how much she’d enjoy it. Unbelievable, but she could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach just by the attention he was paying to her breasts. Never in her life had anyone ever made her hot, let alone made her come, just from foreplay…any kind of foreplay. The man would make her orgasm not once, but twice, first by paying homage to her quim, and now just by playing with her breasts! That he was apparently unattached was a crime against nature. He should be locked up good and tight by some woman, and that woman should be she.

The thought should have shocked her; Berlin loved being a strong, independent woman, single and free. But suddenly loving like this made her yearn for something more. What would it be like to have this kind of pleasure every night?

Her thoughts were abruptly cut short when a tidal wave of yet another orgasm crashed through her body as he bit down with gentle firmness on both her nipples. Before she had a chance to come down from the high, he slid his length into her wanting sheath, stretching her to her very limits. Bliss right on the razor’s edge of pain washed over her, making her strain to have more. He filled her so perfectly, stroking with infinite patience, his gaze never leaving her face. She didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking; all the passion, the wonder, the joy was right there for her to see. She felt it too.

Matty couldn’t believe he had never felt anything like this before. She had been made for him just as surely as he was alive and breathing. Her walls gripped him tightly, as if they were loath to let him go. She felt so damn good, so damn right. He didn’t have the words to express what he was feeling so he tried to show her the only way he knew how. Refusing to break contact with their eyes, he made love to her, treating her like the precious jewel she was, pouring all he had into the act.

It was too much. The intense ecstasy of being inside her, of becoming one was too much. His hips moved faster, driving into her with desperate need. Even when he had to shift positions, pulling her legs over his arms and clasping her hips, he did not break their gaze. He had to let her know this was real. This would not be a snowstorm fling. She was his and he was keeping her. Anxious to hold on until she reached her peak once again, he angled his hips so his pelvis rubbed lightly against her clit. He couldn’t last much longer.

Then her body seized and she screamed out his name. It was sweeter than a chorus of angels. He roared out his release, his hips losing all semblance of finesse. It was better than the first time he had ever been with a woman. A feeling of completion settled deep in his soul. It was perfect.

*****

Berlin awoke to the smell of food, something homey and delicious. Her stomach growled loudly as if demanding that scrumptious-smelling feast right away. Rolling over onto her back, her eyes opened to unfamiliar surroundings. The events of the past few hours crashed through her head like an avalanche. Oh, dear Lord, did she really have sex with a stranger? not once, but three times during the night? The worst part was she didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it.

What the hell was wrong with her? She did not get to the place she was now by being reckless; but when Matty looked at her, she felt like she were the only woman in the world. She wasn’t one to believe in fairy tales or love at first sight, but there was something about Mr. Matthew Hartsfield that made her want to believe. Not a good sign. All that could come of this was a nice few days in the West Virginia Mountains, and maybe a new designer. There would be no happily ever after, no matter how it felt when they came together in carnal bliss. It was a fling, nothing more.

“I thought you might hungry,” Matty announced coming into the bedroom with a very big tray of something that smelled even better up close. “I made some beef stew. Not very fancy, but it will fill ya up.”

“Thank you,” she told him simply, trying not to think about the way he pushed her hair out of her face for her after setting the tray carefully on her lap. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

She almost choked as his casual shrug made the taunt muscles ripple. Because he was shirtless, she could clearly see every inch of his lightly tanned torso. Talk about washboard abs! While he wasn’t thick or heavily muscled, his lean frame was finely developed, reminding her one of those Greek sculptures in a museum but with a considerably larger “package.”

“I already ate,” he told her, briefly taking the tray back and setting it on the nightstand, then physically propping her up with the multitude of pillows on his bed. Once she was properly settled, he replaced the tray on her lap and picked up the spoon. Berlin watched in avid fascination as he filled the spoon and brought it slowly to her mouth. “Open wide.”

She let him feed her. It was so outside her sphere of experience; the men she usually dated were suave and smooth, but not tender. There was something peculiarly erotic about it. Those eyes of his held her captive as he made sure she ate every drop. And it was delicious, but she would be hard-pressed to describe a thing she had just eaten. All her senses were tuned specifically on him. She was getting in a little too deep. With a slight shake of her head, she tried to pull herself back together. She would not fall for a man she barely knew and had no intention of seeing again.

“Look, I don’t usually do things like this…” How lame was that? It sounded like something a woman would say if she
did
sleep around but was too embarrassed to admit it.

“I know you don’t,” Matty said, surprising her. “I never suspected otherwise.”

Berlin frowned at the tingle his comment sent down her spine. She was no teenage girl to be won over with words. She tried again, putting steel in her voice to make her intentions clear.

“Yeah, well, I uh, appreciate the rescue and the hospitality and all. But I came out here to try to convince you to design for
Femme
, and seeing as you are against that, as soon as the road is clear, I am going back to Atlanta.”

He regarded her quietly for a full minute, then got up and went over to a chest of drawers. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but didn’t know how to ask. She hadn’t been confrontational about it. She hadn’t accused him of anything. Still, she felt like she were letting him down somehow, like she were hurting him personally in some way. That didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion.

He was silent when he returned to the bed with a rather large plaid shirt and thick socks. He didn’t say anything as he moved the warm covers off of her and proceeded to dress her as if she were a child.
Or someone precious to him
, her mind insisted on adding. She could have swatted his hands away, but the truth was she liked it. She liked all of it. She loved the attention, loved the way he had bathed her, seduced her, made love to her, held her as they slept, then woken up and fed and dressed her. No one besides her mother had ever treated her like this. It was especially strange because she had always considered sensitive men like him wimps. There was nothing wimpy about Matthew. He was all man while pampering her. He seemed more manly than any other male she had ever dated.

“Come on; I want to show you something,” Matty said, holding out his hand to her.

Berlin took his hand, following him out of the spacious bedroom and up the stairs with more than just a little trepidation. She had no idea how large the house was, but the wide staircase led past what looked to be a vast second floor, with hallways extending in both directions. As much as she would have liked to explore what lay in either direction, he took her to a third floor.

Her breath caught as the stairwell ended at an open area that was the size of a studio apartment. There were mannequins, about a dozen or so, scattering the room with some of the most beautiful clothes she’d ever seen. She recognized some of the pieces from the photos sent to her, but the best pieces lay strewn about carelessly. The room was framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, but there was very little natural light. All she could see was a wall of white falling furiously outside.

Touching a light tan, suede, fitted dress reverently, Berlin’s mind boggled at the sight of so many beautiful clothes—clothes that no one would ever see if he refused to sell them. He had to have private clients. It made no sense to make such beautiful clothing for no one and leave them here. Yet from the looks of things, he had been making clothing for no one in particular for quite some time.

“I don’t know why I keep doing it.” Matty’s soft words broke through her thoughts. “It is just something I do.” Shrugging as if he’d explained everything, he moved over to take a distressed leather overcoat with an embroidered design on the back and drape it around her shoulders. “But I want to explain why I can’t design for your company.”

Chapter Five

Matty stepped back and looked at the beautiful woman encased in the coat he created. Perfect. His clothes were meant for a woman like her—strong, confident, independent. A true original. The satisfaction he felt just seeing her in it was something he had never felt while creating garments in Los Angeles. This was what he had been missing, his soul.

“My parents died when I was six years old,” he began, going around the room and gathering all the clothes he wanted to see her wearing, clothes that wouldn’t look right on anyone else. “My grandmother raised me. She was Moneton from the Siouan family and the local seamstress in town. She taught me how to make clothes, how to make garments with soul, not just needle and thread. After graduating from NYU and then Parson’s, I went to L.A. to make my fortune. I did that, but I left behind my soul. Success left me empty, but I didn’t know that. Not until my grandmother died. Her words haunted me. Why was I doing what I did? For money, for fame? It all seemed so senseless. My creativity didn’t bring true joy. It was an instrument of greed, a status symbol.”

Turning to face her, Matty made a decision. He couldn’t stay holed up in the mountains designing for some dream woman. He had known it for some time now; he just hadn’t known for whom or what to design.

“I know you don’t know me,” he told her softly, setting his little bundle down at her feet, and then caressing her face. “But I know you felt something when we made love; and make no mistake, we
were
making love. Something right and true. If you are willing to explore what that something was, to give us a chance to be together, then I will happily design for you. Not the company you represent, but you. I will go wherever I need to, just to be with you. I am not given to wild flights of fancy, but I believe with every fiber of my being fate brought you here to me, and I am not willing to let you go. No, angel, don’t fall from the sky just to fly away again.”

Berlin rocked back on her heels. She wanted to deny it. Rationally, one did not build a relationship on one night during a snowstorm. Yet, there was something even she, the ever-practical person she was, couldn’t ignore. There was this strange pull between them, something she had never felt with anyone else. Something she knew she would never feel again. Did she take a chance, or play it safe? She had played it safe her entire life; and up until now, it had served her well. Or had it?

Yeah, she had a successful career, plenty of money and things, but she was alone. She worked hard, but she had to admit most of her late nights at the office were because she didn’t want to go home to an empty penthouse full of beautiful things and not much else. And truthfully, she was tired of being alone, tired of having no one to lean on and no one to cry to. What he offered was tempting. She wanted so much to scream, “Yes!”, but she just wasn’t ready to take that leap, not after one night—no matter how much they obviously clicked, or how right it felt. It was just too much too soon. She didn’t know him at all.