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Authors: Theresa Ellson

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“It’s even better the second time around!” I moaned as I polished off a crab puff.

“That’s just because you’re a lot hungrier than you were at lunch time!” Matthew shook his head and poured me some more wine.

Matthew and I were sitting at the corners of the table, with him at the head. He suddenly pushed his chair away from the table and pulled me into his lap. It was so unexpected, I yelped in surprise.

“Well, eat up,” he said, feeding me another bite of steak, “because you’re going to need the strength.”

It was the most erotic meal I’d ever eaten. We fed each other bites of food, between sips of the amazing wine.

“What
is
this wine?” I asked turning the empty bottle to look at the label. “Primativo? I’ve never heard of it, and I love red wine.”

“Well, get used to discovering all kinds of new flavors,” Matthew said, nuzzling my neck, “One of the few things I really splurge on is good wine. Oh, I haven’t even shown you yet! Come on!”

Matthew grabbed my hips and stood me up. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway toward his bedroom again. I certainly wasn’t fighting him, but then he stopped in front a different door.

“Hold on,” he ducked into his bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt out of his closet, then jogged back to me, looking as excited as a little kid on Christmas. He opened the mystery door in the hallway to reveal carpeted stairs leading down to a lower level. He started down the stairs pulling me behind.

“Do we need slippers or anything for the basement?”

“Hardly,” Matthew assured me. We reached the bottom of the stairs and I saw a completely finished basement: one side had a huge TV, like the upstairs living room, but in addition to a huge sectional couch, there was a treadmill and a full weight set. The outer wall was also a wall of windows, but the view from here was through the trees, so the lake and mountains were harder to see. It gave the whole are a cozy feel, though.

Matthew pulled me through the family room area to face another door on the other end of the house. The door was glass. Matthew just stopped in front of it, grinning. “Go ahead, open it!” he encouraged.

I opened the door and stepped into a room that was about the size of an average bedroom, but was stacked floor-to-ceiling with bottles of wine.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed.

“Excuse me,” Matthew said from behind me, feigning indignation, “there is not a single bottle of crap in here.”

I spun around, ready to defend myself, but he was still grinning. “How long did it take you to fill this?”

“Years,” Matthew sighed. “And, truth be told, there probably used to be some crap in here. My mother likes white zinfandel, for god’s sake,” Matthew rolled his eyes.

“Well, what do you recommend for the rest of the evening, Mr. Bowen?”

“Well, Ms. Masters,” Matthew glanced around the shelves, clearly looking for something. “We haven’t even
touched
the chocolate mousse cake I have for dessert, so how about a nice Port!” Matthew found the bottle he’d been looking for and presented it to me with a flourish.”

I smiled, “Of course! A Portuguese wine! But isn’t it a little sweet?”

Matthew shook his head as he headed out the door. “Not this one. This one is actually quite dry, which is why I like it with a sweet dessert.”

Back upstairs, I swept the robe around my legs and shivered as I uncorked the wine. Matthew pulled the dessert from the fridge then suggested, “Why don’t we go sit in front of the fire to eat it,” he placed a delicate kiss on my forehead and took the plates into the living room.

We relaxed and ate until we were both yawning.

“After all that sugar and Port, I think I’m ready for another nap,” I glanced over at the clock and realized it was almost eleven. “Oh wow, it’s late,” I suddenly got very, very shy. Was I really going to spend the night with him?

Matthew decided it for me. “Well, luckily for you, since we have so many random guests here, I have a stash of new toothbrushes,” Matthew smiled and brushed my hair back from my cheek, cupping my head in his hand and rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I leaned my face into his hand and smiled, just enjoying the gentle touch. “What I
don’t
have for you, is pajamas,” he said apologetically.

“I don’t think I’m going to need them,” I whispered, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmm. You taste like Port,” he said when he pulled away. Then he stood up from the couch, and pulled me up with him. He surprised me by reaching down and picking me up again, but this time I was able to wrap my legs around his waist. The robe fell away, and Matthew moaned a little as I rubbed myself against his stomach. “I cannot get enough of you,” he whispered into my ear we made our way down the hallway.

We reached his room, and he held me with one arm as he undid his pajama bottoms. He dropped his pants onto the floor and sat us both on the edge of the bed.

He’d maneuvered us so he slid inside me as we sat down. I gasped and stripped off my robe, then wrapped my arms around him again. I had just enough leverage to gently grind on him. He bit my lip, gently, and moaned again. I enjoyed going slowly, slowly, up and down, feeling every inch of him. I felt the tension build in my body until finally I cried out and collapsed against his chest.

But Matthew wasn’t done. The height of the bed allowed something that hadn’t occurred to me: Matthew flipped me onto my back and stood at the edge of the bed. He pulled my legs up against his chest and, still standing, pushed into me. So soon after my own orgasm, my nerve-endings were so raw, it was almost too much. But Matthew had a firm grip on my hips, with the backs of my thighs pressed against his abs. I let my arms fall over my head, and moaned as Matthew held my hips tight and pumped, again and again, until his whole body tensed, then released.

We untangled and he collapsed onto his stomach beside me, breathing heavily.

After a few minutes, I roused myself enough to ask, “So where are those toothbrushes?”

Matthew immediately perked up. “You’re really staying?” I nodded, smiling at his eagerness. “Hall bathroom, one of the drawers. There should be toothpaste, too.”

I dropped a kiss on his shoulder and padded down the hall. I heard water running in from his bathroom, too. By the time I came back in the room, though, Matthew was back in bed, lying on his back, breathing deeply, already sound asleep.

Not wanting to wake him, I climbed into bed next to him. Before I could snuggle into his chest, though, he had rolled over on his side, and pulled me up against him, his arm wrapped around my waist. I took his hand in mine and twined my fingers with his. He dropped a sleepy kiss on my shoulder and pulled me in tighter.

We slept like that all night.

 

***

 

We spent all of Sunday eating leftovers, watching old movies, talking, and making love. Over and over. Matthew could give Aaron a run for his money – and Aaron was twenty years younger.

In the kitchen as I was getting myself a glass of water, Matthew came up behind me and slid his hands into the pajama bottoms he’d loaned me after we’d shared a shower in his double-headed, walk-in shower.

“Oh my god, you’re insatiable!” I said. It was three o’clock and we’d already made love four times that day. “How can you even have anything left?”

“I’m not sure I do,” he confessed, “I just wanted to touch you.” I leaned back against him, warm in the sweatshirt he’d loaned me to lounge around in.

“It’s getting late,” I breathed, trying not to be distracted by his hand sliding up my side. “I better get home.”

“Don’t go home,” Matthew said quickly, squeezing my hip with one hand while the other cupped my breast.

“I have to go to work tomorrow, you know,” I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair.

“Be late. Sleep here again tonight. You can go home in the morning to change,” now Matthew’s hand had moved from my hip around to the front, and he was gently but firmly rubbing me in just the right spot to thoroughly distract me.

“OK,” I breathed, leaning against him.

“Really? You’ll stay?” Matthew nipped my neck, just below my ear.

“Yes,” I said, almost panting. “Just. Don’t. Stop.”

He didn’t. When my climax came, I fell against him, boneless. “Oh my god, I think I’m dizzy,” I said sincerely.

“Then I did it right,” he growled into my ear.

I turned around, and faced him. “Do you really want me to stay?”

He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. “Yes, I really want you to stay.” He pressed his forehead to mine and said, “I just want to hold you all night again.”

I wondered if he knew how my heart fluttered when he said things like that to me. I reached up and kissed him again. After a moment, he pulled back and laughed quietly.

“I may not have anything at the moment, but I guarantee I’ll send you to sleep with a smile on your face.”

“I don’t doubt that,” I said dryly.

He took my hand and pulled me back into the living room, pulled me down into his arms on the couch and threw a blanket over us. He’d gotten a fire going again. He flipped the channels on the TV until he came to an episode of
Supernatural
and stopped.

“OK,” he said, “confession time. This show is one of my guilty pleasures – ”

I cut him off. “Do not even joke about picking on
Supernatural
. Dean is my secret boyfriend, and I will not tolerate any abuse toward him.” Matthew chuckled and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “Oh my god, I think this is the tail end of the marathon Becca and I were watching the other day!”

Matthew yawned and settled down into the couch. “Well, it’s been on for years. That’s days and days of TV.”

“Yeah,” I yawned, too.

I’d watched a movie or two with Aaron, but I’d never snuggled on the couch with him, after a weekend of sex, food, wine, conversation, more sex and, most importantly, actually sleeping together. Spending the night with Matthew had felt so natural. Even after more than a year of only sleeping alone, it had felt like our bodies just
fit
. I’d slept so deeply, and woken so happy and relaxed. I realized I could get used to this.

 

***

 

Matthew let his head rest on Lyssa’s, enjoying the scent of her hair. The languid, relaxed feel of this weekend was more than he could have ever hoped for. She’d gotten out of the shower and hadn’t seemed to worry about her hair, her makeup, or borrowing his clothes to lounge around. She looked so adorable in his huge college sweatshirt, he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Making love to her was better than he could have imagined. He expected her to be a little shy, a little reticent, but she’d shown she completely trusted him. And she was so confident in herself, so open with her body, that was incredibly sexy. She hadn’t acted shy when she was naked in front of him. She hadn’t wanted the lights out. She’d slept naked with him, wrapped up together.

She kept surprising him, in really good ways.

When she’d agreed to sleep here again tonight, he’d tried really hard to be cool about it. When he was honest with himself, he didn’t even want her to go to work tomorrow.

“Lyssa, this weekend has been so perfect, I don’t want it to end,” he said aloud before thinking about it.

She sat up and turned so she could see his face. “Me neither,” she smiled and snuggled back into his chest.

He squeezed her tighter, marveling at how easy she was to be with. At how much he liked her. At how much she made him laugh. At how much he wanted her. Over and over.

She sat up and shifted around so her head was in his lap.

He immediately grinned and said, “What are you doing down there?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m taking another nap.”

“Can I get ideas later?” he said huskily.

“You better,” she said quietly. “Just let me rest up a bit!” she yawned again.

Matthew dozed off, too, feeling more content than he could ever remember feeling.

Chapter 23

 

A few weeks after Thanksgiving, I realized I hadn’t slept at home since my first night with Matthew. I’d taken to running home after work, grabbing a change of clothes for the next day, then driving out to Matthew’s for dinner. I’d even started taking my workout gear over to his place and using his treadmill in the morning before work.

Finally, our second Saturday morning together, I’d worked up the courage to ask him, “Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

He’d looked momentarily alarmed and I thought,
Oh no! He is! He just couldn’t say it!

“Not even a little bit,” he’d leaned forward at the breakfast table earnestly. “Why? Are you tired of me? Do you need your space?”

“No! I love being here, with you,” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I just feel like, we sort of fell into this – me being over here all the time – and I want to make sure I’m not – ”

“Lyssa,” he said, still earnest, “these last couple of weeks, I have been happier than I can ever remember being. I love having you come home to me every night. I love sleeping with you. I love waking up with you,” I held my breath. He kept using the word “love,” and I didn’t know if I was ready for the next sentence. “And I love,” he gave me his best smoldering smile, “making love to you.”

“Whew!” I laughed nervously. “Glad you’re not tired of that yet!” I got up to get my coffee and Matthew grabbed my hand.

“I can’t imagine I’ll ever get tired of that,” he said as he kissed the back of my hand.

Those romantic little gestures were the things that would pop into my head at work and make be flush.

Matthew had come into the office a couple of times to either bring me lunch or take me out, and I knew from Jean’s knowing smile that I looked giddy as a teenager whenever he was around.

Molly had dropped by my office after school a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, on a day that Matthew had brought me lunch. We’d been texting and talking, but I hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving. She ribbed me about “dumping my best friend for my new boyfriend,” but she understood.

I was excited to see her, though. We rarely went more than a week without at least sharing a cup of coffee at one of our houses.

I glanced up to see her in the reception area, talking conspiratorially with Jean. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, and kept them narrowed as Molly sauntered into my office, looking supremely satisfied.

“Soooo,” she drawled, “this one’s out of the closet, huh?”

I raised my eyebrows and said haughtily, “I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about, Ms. Miller,” and pretended to go back to my work.

“Don’t bother,” Molly plopped on my couch and put her feet up on my coffee table. “Jean ratted you out. It seems one Mr. Bowen is frequenting this office of late, and not to see Robert.”

I smiled and walked around my desk to join her on the couch. “Yes he is,” I smiled with satisfaction.

“And, Jean reports, that you practically
glow
when said Mr. Bowen is present.”

I kept smiling and shrugged. “Probably true.”

“What about
outside
of work? Are you seeing a lot of him?” Molly asked seriously.

“Well, you know we had our first date the Saturday after Thanksgiving, right?” Molly nodded. “I haven’t slept at home since that night.”

Molly’s jaw dropped. “You’re
kidding
!” she whispered.

“Nope,” I shook my head. “Dead serious. I like him, Molly. A lot. A
lot
a lot. I can’t seem to get enough of him,” I sighed and leaned back.

“So, then, I take it the sex is good?” she said dryly. But I blushed. Talking about sex with Aaron had been no big deal. But I was reluctant to be as graphic about things with Matthew.

“It’s amazing.” She looked at me quizzically, and I knew what she was asking. “Yes,” I laughed, “even better than with Aaron.” Her jaw dropped again. “But it’s more than that. Matthew and I really talk, we really communicate. And sometimes we don’t. Sometimes it’s nice just to lay in bed together, reading, or lie around all weekend, watching TV, hiking around his house. It’s just,” I sighed, “everything is just so easy,” I smiled again. “I think,” I bit my lip, “I’m really falling for him. And I think it’s mutual,” I said shyly.

Molly grinned at me. “Well according to Jean, Matthew is terribly smitten,” she said in a fake snooty accent. “So, Christmas is coming up. What’s going on then?”

I leaned back against the couch. “That’ll be the real test, won’t it?” I exhaled tensely. “I’m meeting his mom and daughter Christmas Eve. Then he’ll come to my house Christmas night to meet my kids.”

Molly raised her eyebrows. “Want some moral support? J.J., Jared and I can come over, too.”

“Thanks, Moll, but I think we need to keep this simple. Claudia is coming for dinner that night, too, so that will take
some
heat off of us. I’m thrilled Kyle wants to include a girlfriend in family things, honestly. She’ll come over Christmas morning and spend the day with us. But I told Matthew not to come until the afternoon.”

“Lys, you’re rambling,” Molly said knowingly.

“I know, I know!” I rubbed my fingers along my brow.

“Listen,” she reached out and tapped my hand. “Matthew is a great guy. Your kids will love him.”

“What if they don’t?” I stood up suddenly and began pacing. “Am I being insane, Molly? Matthew and I have been seeing each other less than a month, but – ”

“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Molly jumped up and put her hands on my shoulders. “Lyssa, stop! Jesus, the last time I saw you like this was during finals week in college. Take a breath, girl!”

I did. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Better?” Molly asked. I nodded. “OK, now stop spinning and remember: worst case scenario is that the kids hate him, and they take a while to adjust, right?” I nodded, biting my lip. “Can I just point out that Scott left you for Sarah, and they all seem to get along with her just fine?”

I blinked. I hadn’t even thought of that. “You’re right,” I said slowly. “You’re right! I mean, Sarah broke up their family! They can’t possibly detest Matthew and
like
Sarah, right?” Molly nodded emphatically.

I collapsed onto the couch again and rested my head against the back. “Why didn’t I think of that?” I wondered out loud.

“Because you’re in love and you’re not thinking straight,” Molly said bluntly.

“I – what?!”

“Lyssa, you are in love,” Molly said slowly. “You just don’t recognize it, because you haven’t felt this way in a
long
damn time.”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” I said weakly. I felt such a mixture of emotions, I couldn’t put them into words: joy, dread, hope, and fear all created what felt like a tornado in my stomach. “Molly, what am I going to do?”

Molly looked at me confused. “Do? What do you mean?”

I couldn’t even speak. I just threw up my hands helplessly.

Molly laughed. “Lyssa! What you
do
is enjoy the first flush of love with Matthew. From what Jean says, sounds like he’s right there with you!”

The curiosity finally got the better. “What
does
Jean say, by the way?”

Molly smirked. “She
says that the two of you are like giddy teenagers around each other, and that Matthew lights up as much as you do as soon as he sees you. She even confided that she’s the tiniest bit envious,” Molly winked at me.

I shook my head, surprised and a little bit embarrassed: if Jean knew, everyone in the office knew.

“Now,” Molly said getting comfortable on my couch again, “what the hell are you going to get Matthew for Christmas?”

I groaned and threw my head back again. “I have no idea! What am I supposed to get for my millionaire boyfriend?!”

“Robert told me he’s really into wine. Why don’t you go by the Wine Cave and ask them about their most exotic, expensive bottle?”

“Whatever that might be, he probably already has it!” I complained.

Molly shrugged. “Do it anyway. If he already has a bottle of it, that means he likes it, right?”

I nodded. “That’s all true, and a great idea. Thanks, Moll!”

Molly chuckled. “Just think – last year, you were trying to figure out what to get for Scott!”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Has it only been a year? God, that is impossible to wrap my brain around!”

“I know! You’ve had more sex in the last six months that you had in the six
years
before that!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Molly, that is the only thing I was thinking of.”

“I’m just teasing you,” she play-punched my shoulder. “Seriously, Lyssa, I’ve never seen you this happy. Even stressing about Christmas, you’re glowing! That makes me love Matthew already!” I smiled. “So are you guys ready for a double-date? Or a triple-date, with Robert and Alan?”

“I don’t know,” my eyes widened in horror. “Molly, I can’t just start planning things. I can’t – ”

Molly shook her head at me. “Calm down, spazzy,” Molly said as she got up from the couch. “I will leave you out of it, OK? Alan and I will arrange everything. Jeesh!”

 

***

 

“Hello?” Kathy answered her phone on the second ring.

“Hey, Mom,” Matthew said into the phone. “How’s Aunt Janet doing?”

“Better! Really improving! The rehab facility is excellent. Thank you for that, Matthew.”

Matthew ignored her thanks, like he always did. “That is really good news. Will she be up for traveling by Christmas?”

“No! God, no. But she is insisting I come up to see you and Audrey for the holidays. She swears she’ll be fine. I made sure she knows how to use the video call feature on her phone, so we can call her. And I will make sure she has some fantastic food delivered for Christmas. I already booked my ticket, and I’ll fly home the 27
th
. I don’t want her alone for New Year’s, too.”

“That sounds great. Audrey is only coming here for a few days, too. She wants to be back in Portland for New Year’s. But she told me she’s coming down to see you guys in January. She wants to see Aunt Janet.”

“That’s great,” Kathy said, waiting. She knew her son, and could tell there was something else he wanted to talk about. “So will anyone else be joining us for Christmas?”

Matthew chuckled. “See, this is why I never got away with anything in high school! I can’t get anything past you. Thank god you were around when Audrey was a teenager.”

“Mmm hmm. You’re dodging the question, Matthew.”

“OK, yes, Lyssa will be joining us on Christmas Eve.”

“Wonderful! Have you finally told Audrey?”

“Yes,” Matthew said slowly. “She was a little taken aback, but I think she’s OK with it.”

“You just caught her off-guard,” Kathy said sagely. “She’s never even heard of Lyssa, and suddenly she’s important enough to come for Christmas. I’m sure you just surprised her.”

“Yeah, she said as much. I explained that Lyssa and I had just started seeing each other.”

Kathy’s eyes narrowed. As soon as she hung up with her son, she’d be calling her granddaughter. She and Matthew chatted for a few more minutes, then said their goodbyes.

Kathy got herself a glass of wine and got comfortable in her favorite chair, then called her granddaughter.

“Hey, Nana!” Audrey always answered the phone this way. Kathy hadn’t gotten used to it yet. Her granddaughter had grown up in the age of cell phones and caller ID, so Kathy always felt like she was coming into the middle of a conversation with her.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you?” Kathy listened attentively as Audrey told her excitedly about her job, her friends, her newest boyfriend, and how much fun she was having living in downtown Portland.

When Audrey was done filling Kathy in, she asked about Janet. Kathy filled her in, then turned the conversation to Christmas.

“I’m glad you’re coming up for Christmas, Nana. I figured Dad and I would come down to see you guys, but I do love having a snowy Christmas in Idaho, I have to admit.”

“And your dad told me that he told you that we will be meeting Lyssa, his new girlfriend.”

Kathy noted the marked hesitation before Audrey said, “Um, yeah. He mentioned that.”

“Audrey,” Kathy said warningly.

“What, Nana? I mean, what the hell? He’s never mentioned this woman ever, and suddenly she’s coming to a family event? You don’t think that’s weird?”

“He told me about her when he came down to help me get Janet settled, back in November.”

“Well, I’m glad he told
you,
” Audrey sniffed.

“Audrey, he will always be protective of you. He didn’t tell you about her until he was sure it was serious.”

“It’s serious?! Already?!”

Kathy tried to keep the eye roll out of her voice. “Audrey, you do not meet women your dad isn’t serious about.”

“I can’t even remember the last woman he introduced to me.”

BOOK: Hard Choices
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