One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) (8 page)

Unfortunately, none of what my brain wants is happening right now. He’s here. And from the moment I set eyes on Matt, all I want is
him
, anyway I can have him.

Moving up from my neck, Matty whispers softly in my ear and my breath hitches: “Tell me, Claire, do you still taste sweet? Like sugar melting on my tongue, leaving that addicting-as-fuck strawberry ice cream taste running down my chin?” He tickles my memory, my throat forgetting how to swallow as he wets his tongue and moves it lightly over my earlobe, awakening the familiar pulse between my legs, the one that always builds with each of this man’s dirty words. “Christ, baby. You were so fucking good, my tongue licking up every single drop of juice that dripped from your hot tight cunt.” The timbre of his voice causes tingles to travel down my spine, the anticipation of where this is all going making my toes curl at the prospect. “I want to kiss you, Claire. Tell me it’s okay to kiss you.”

“Jesus, Matt.” I want to sag against him. His filthy words make my knees weak.

Matt squeezes my hips, pulling me flush to his strong body. Leaning in, he runs his mouth ever so softy along my neck before meeting my eyes again.

I step out of his hold, needing to give myself a bit of distance. But instead, I find myself staring at him, unable to look beyond the man of my past, the one I can’t seem to let go. The same one for whom my heart thumps erratically in my chest, the same one I wish almost daily I’d kept, the same one I don’t know if I can keep.

I can’t believe we’re back here.

Matt’s beyond the man-pretty guy I remembered. His chiseled jaw is highlighted by more than a five o’clock shadow. His lush lips are full, with that pouty bottom one making me want to tug on it because it’s so tauntingly perfect. He’s fucking ripped, too—Adonic, if you will. His plain white-t-shirt strains over his incredible shoulders, his defined chest and toned biceps. The telltale marks of tight abs pull my gaze as I make my slow perusal, visibly eye-fucking the shit out of him.
God, I like what I see. A lot.

I want nothing more than to run my tongue along each dip and dive of this man’s body. Matty’s body was made for sin and I’d gladly volunteer as the sinner if it meant I’d get to repent at the shrine that is this man. I let out an almost audible moan as I stand lusting for all the things I want to do to him.

Matt pulls me back in tight, holding me close against him, laughing against my ear. “Like what you see, Claire?”

I’m busted. I’ve got drool stains all over the front of my shirt, no doubt.

Hell, yes.
“It’s all right,” I shrug, but can’t help the nervous giggle that escapes my dumb-ass self as I’m caught.

“I think you do. Better yet, I know you fucking do and I know I affect you still, even now.”

“Jesus, Matt. Okay, yes, I guess you’re still kinda hot and maybe you do affect me just a little bit.” I give him an impish grin.

“Thank Christ for small miracles. And for the record, I can smell that it’s more than ‘a little’.”

“Matt!” I shove at his chest, feigning embarrassment. If it were anyone else I might have been, but not with Matt. No, with him I’ve only ever been comfortable, been myself.

Matt takes the remote off the bar, turning up Keith Sweat’s “Nobody”, the sound pumping through the speakers.

“Dance with me.” It’s not a request, but a command.
Holy shit. This is happening.
Matt Bishop,
my Matty,
is standing here, holding me tight in his arms after two years. There’s so much I need to say, want to say. But in this moment it’s obvious that words aren’t required, that this is what we both need from each other. Matt’s lips hover over mine.

“Can I kiss you now, Claire?”

“Please. Yes.”

Matt angles his head and slowly moves his face even closer to mine. He kisses each of my eyelids, making his way down my cheeks before extending his tongue to lick each side of my mouth ever so slightly before pressing a soft peck on my nose.

I groan, my patience wearing thin. “Matt. Kiss me, already,” I beg breathlessly, and the asshole only laughs.

“I’m getting there, babe. It’s been two fucking years. We need to do this right.” He smiles down at me.

Bastard doesn’t play fair.

Matt takes my face in his hands and places a soft rain of kisses everywhere around my mouth. Finally, he takes his tongue and runs it ever so slowly along my bottom lip, nibbling the swelling flesh. He looks into my eyes again, maybe to make sure that I’m still okay with this. Somehow, we are now standing in the middle of the dance floor swaying in time to the music, while I wait for him to kiss me, and I have no idea how we got here.

“Fuck, it. I need your mouth,” he expels, before crashing his lips into mine. I lose my footing for a moment with his surprise change of pace. Matt moves his hand to my neck to steady and keep me in place as our mouths fuse together in what turns into a very languid kiss. Our tongues begin a slow investigation.

Within moments, though, what started as smooth and exploratory soon turns frantic, resulting in a battle, an intermingling of twists, glides and swirls, our tongues slowly moving more deeply, passionately, in perfect sync. We embrace tightly, delving into each other, tasting as if starved for what we’ve both been missing.
Each other.

“Fuck, you always had the most exquisite taste. I need you, Claire. I need to feel you.” Matt pulls away, resting his forehead on mine, waiting for my permission, willing me to concede.

“I need you too, so much,” I say, locking my arms behind his strong neck before making my way to what I know is his sweet spot. Taking his ear into my mouth, I nibble gently on his tender lobe, moaning his name as I trail my hand down his hard body, rubbing his familiar thick shaft through his jeans.

“You’re so goddamned perfect.” He takes my lips again, hard. Next thing I know, Matt has me lifted. “Wrap those sweet thighs around me, baby,” he growls into my neck. “I need to be in you. I need to feel you, Claire.” He releases my mouth and I do as I’m told. I fucking jump him, immediately wrapping my legs around his muscular frame as he lifts me higher, securing me right where he wants me, his large hands gripping my ass, holding me in that perfect place. I begin grinding down, matching his cock to my core, and he growls again. His strong hands dig into my ass, forcing me to rub on him harder as we move across the dance floor to the VIP booths.

“That feels so good. I need more, Matty. I need more. Oh, God,” I plead, as he licks my neck again, gliding the tip of his tongue along my overly-sensitized skin. My body reacts with a jerk at the sensations. Matty smiles into my neck, knowing exactly what he’s doing. My neck has always been a huge erogenous zone. He groans: “Smells so sweet…” then takes a nip at my collarbone, causing gooseflesh to spring to life all over my skin. Looking me in the eye, he swipes my hair to the side, then trails hot-breathed kisses down my neck to the top of my chest as he gently deposits me on the tabletop of the first booth.

“Kiss me again, Matty.” It’s a demand; I need his mouth on me, I’m almost frantic with desire for this man.

He presses my legs further apart, pushing between them before gripping my hips in his hands to pull me closer to the edge of the table to better fuse us together. He runs the outside of his hand along the exposed skin of my arms before cupping my face in his hands.

He takes me in. Regards me. My blue eyes stare into his brown ones—a brief flash of uncertainty in his reflected by sudden fear in mine. I know there are things to be said, I know I should stop this, but in this moment with his eyes so intense with whatever this is, I can’t seem to think past how much I need this man. A wave of panic leaps into my heart, but I’ll deal with it later, because right now I have him in front of me and there is no way I can let either of us stop this now.

I pull him down to me by a handful of his shirt, forcing his body against mine so we’re chest-to-chest. I meet his gaze, hold it, then I smile, because when I look at Matt Bishop I can’t not smile.

“Matty. Please. Don’t stop, we—”

He cuts me off with a kiss.

“I’m not stopping, sweetheart. I’ll never stop again.” I gasp at his words. The sincerity in his voice guts me.

How can he still want me so fully after all this time, after what I did?

“I’m just taking you in. You’re still sexy, Claire, sexy as fuck. I’ve missed this,” he whispers softly against my ear: “And now I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna sink my cock so deep inside that you won’t forget who you’ve come home to—
me
.”

He kisses my forehead tenderly despite the underlying tension I hear in his voice.

“I need to see all of you. Lift your arms up for me, Sugarshack.” He reaches for the hem of my tank, brushing his hands up my sides as he lifts it over my head, kissing the skin beneath as he exposes each bit. His eyes flare as they take in my purple-and-black Jolly Roger-themed Balconette bra, my heavy breasts practically spilling over its low neckline, now aching for his touch. Dipping his mouth to my nipples, he whispers his lips and tongue over each proud tip before reaching around for the clasp. “You make me so fucking hard, Claire. My cock is aching right now. Show me those perfect tits.”

He inches back. “You take it off. I wanna watch ’em as they bounce free.” He drops his hands, giving me room to reach around to unclasp the hooks, freeing him to watch the show. I feel brazen and powerful, I feel like pushing my luck. I feel like pushing Matt like I used to. I miss our little games. It’s time to welcome myself home, too.
And the sorries can definitely wait for another goddamned day.

So instead of taking my bra off, I fasten it again. I move my hand to Matt’s chest, enjoying the confusion which crosses his face as I hop off the table.

“I think I’d better stop this. I’ve got too much to get ready, I can’t waste any time.” I can’t keep a straight face as I stand in front of a very frustrated and horny Matty.

“This isn’t the time to fuck with me, Claire. We’re not ready for games like this yet. Take off your fucking bra, sit back on that table and let me suck those sweet tits of yours.” He steps back to me, his intent as clear as his command.

“What if I wanna play a bit more? This isn’t all about you, Matty. I have needs, too.”

“Fuck that. All you need is right here.” He grabs his straining cock through the denim, and like the shit I am, I lick my lips.

“Tease,” he says.

“Take off your shirt, Matt. I’ve missed what’s under here. It’s time for some dip-diving tongue-sliding fun.” I quickly nip each of his nipples (’cause isn’t that what they’re there for?) through his t-shirt, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. “Now take it off.”

He complies, and I feel a pool of drool land on my own chest. He’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

“Good boy.” I lick along his pecs while rubbing my hands across his toned arms and abs.

“Enough.” He’s breathless and beyond frustrated.

Reaching behind my back again, I unclasp my bra, letting it slide down my arms. It just about makes it until Matt pulls it the rest of the way off, tossing it behind him onto the floor. He guides me forward as he walks backwards to the booth. This time, he sits on the table’s edge and opens his legs, pulling me in to stand between them.

“Perfect.” He lowers his head, snaking out his tongue to touch my pebbled nipple, smoothing over each distended point before sliding his teeth along the sensitive tips.

“Shit, that feels so good!” My head lolls to one side as I watch him move between my breasts, sucking, biting, and kissing each one. His hands find my ass and he moves my skirt up around my waist. He begins rubbing each of my ass cheeks, then finally grips them hard, causing a loud moan to fall from my lips. Matty has always known how to drive me crazy, and tonight it’s apparent that he hasn’t forgotten.

The need to get on my knees for this man suddenly becomes all I can think about.

“I want you in my mouth, Matty.”

Matt immediately stands up, his reaction making me smile. Reaching for the loops of his jeans I tug him closer to me, “I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll have no doubt who you just welcomed home.” I kiss his cheek and drop to my knees at his feet.

“Fuck me,” he grunts softly.

“Oh, I plan on it, Matty. Just you wait,” I smirk, undoing his belt, button, and fly and guiding his jeans down his toned legs. “Commando, I see. Always liked that about you,” I say, as his hard cock meets my gaze. I tap each of his ankles, signalling for him to kick off his shoes so I can I remove his obstructive jeans.

Firmly gripping his smooth, thick, pretty much perfect uncircumcised cock, I begin rubbing it between both hands, up and down, up and down, my eyes trained on his—playing, making it harder before pulling back the foreskin, seeking out the pristinely clean and mouthwatering dish that is pure Matt.

“Fucking take it in your mouth, baby. I’m so goddamn ready.”

I stop, looking up, and see Matt’s eyes wide as saucers. I slowly inch my mouth closer to my prize, the spot I know he wants me. “It’s my show, Matty. Say it. Tell me I’m in charge, that you’ll shush and let me do my thing.” In ready position, I wait for him to give it up.

“You’re gonna pay, Claire.”

I simply glare up at him, my hand and mouth unmoving. “Nuh-huh,” I shake my head.

“Right, fuck, yeah. It’s your show. You’re the boss. It’s all you.”

“Good boy.” Darting my tongue out, I lick the crown, moaning at the taste of pre-cum, the taste of him that I’ve missed. I lap it up, causing Matt’s cock to jerk and jump. “Mmm, tastes good. Just like I remember.” I lick the tip again.

Matt tries to say: “Oh, so you’ve been thinking about…” but he trails off weakly at the end of his sentence, I’m excited to hear.

Taking my time, I make a production of licking his hard shaft, running my tongue along the underside, dragging my lips and tongue along his veins, all the while maintaining our stare. My hands reach for his balls, giving them a little action, and the move causes him to make a quick inhalation. I fucking love doing this to him. Opening up, I take Matt’s hardness into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head before moving to deep throat him. I adjust my angle to give him a perfect view of what I’m doing to him as he disappears in and out of my mouth over and over again at an excruciatingly slow pace.