Young Lies (Young Series Book 1) (17 page)

Without a doubt, I know he's referring to Tom, having believed that once Tom was back in Omaha, the "leak" would be stopped. Clearly that isn't the ca
se at this point, even though I did tell Tom where we are staying... My eyes widen, and to my surprise, Matt shakes his head before I can even vocalize my thought.
"Tom isn't even on our radar right now," he says shortly. "This is very internal. These people know things nobody should even be aware of." He sounds exhausted and pissed off, and I suddenly wonder how long it's been since he had a decent night's sleep. I'm guessing a week at least, probably longer, and I want nothing more than to make him better. What I don’t know is whether it would even be welcome at this point, even if I could succeed. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Samantha. About anything. This fucking chip, this entire situation.” He stops at the end of the bed and looks at me. “You. All I want—all I ever wanted—was for you and Tyler to be happy. I wish there was a way to make this easier for you and for me. I haven’t slept since you left and I’ve been fighting with myself since I decided to make this trip to Italy on whether or not to come see you before I left. We’re not really all that great when it comes to goodbyes and I didn’t want to have to face it again. At the same time, I needed the chance to explain why I did what I did and to ask you why you did what you did. Again, didn’t want to face it.”

He walks past me and I capture his hand, pulling him to a stop. Warm, long fingers close around mine and I look up to find him staring at our hands in surprise and slight confusion. Gently, I tug on his fingers until he sits beside me on the bed again. “Matt, I understand why you wanted us to leave. I’ve unintentionally hurt you over and over, and it didn’t help that I was practically flaunting my relationship with Tom in your face. If the tables had been turned and it had been you with another woman, I’d be pissed off too.” I briefly think about my conversation with Claire about Natalie and have to swallow hard to even go on. “You’ve been incredible throughout this entire ordeal and I will never be able to thank you enough for protecting us. But you’re right: we can’t keep on playing mind games with one another and the only way we’ll be able to be around one another is to
not
be around one another. I want you in Tyler’s life, Matt. I want him to know without a doubt who is father is—he already suspects. If we can work something out, then it would mean the world to me. If not...” I shrug lamely, uncertain what else there is to say.

Staring at me as though I’ve slapped him—again—I can’t imagine how he might reply. “The night I kissed you,” he says suddenly, “the same night you were with Tom... I knew what you did and why you did it—you wanted to hurt me for hurting you, and you used Tom to do it. And I’m sorry for saying it like that, but we both know it’s the truth. I asked you the next day whether Tom knew you faked it. I heard you two and I know what you sound like when you climax.” A grin grows on his face that
almost immediately turns sad. “I don’t mean to be crass about it, but you didn’t sound like he was pleasing you. When I saw you the next morning, I knew everything I needed to know about your relationship with Tom. You might have loved him, but you weren’t in love with him, not the way you were with me. I know what I’ve said about the two of us together and how it won’t work, but the more I consider life without you, the more miserable I am. I can’t lose you and my son again, Samantha. I don’t care about anything else.”

I’m staring at him in absolute shock, not breathing, not moving.
God, I hope I’m hearing him right.

“You’re tired right now,” he says gently, reaching up to run the finge
rs of his free hand down my cheek. I suck in a sharp breath at the touch. “I don’t want to talk about this until I get back from Italy. Until then, I need you to do something for me.”

Nodding quickly, I agree. “Anything.” At this point, I think I’d walk right off a bridge if he asked me.

“Trust me.” His face is right against mine, our noses practically touching. “Whatever happens, Sam, I need you to know I’m doing this for you and for Tyler because I love you both more than anything. I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing. Can you do that?”

I try to decipher his exact meaning, wondering what it is he has planned, but the look in his eyes is begging me to answer his question, not ask him more. “Yes,” I whisper. “I trust you, Matt. Of course I do.”

He sighs in relief and smiles a little. “Thank you,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to my temple.

At some point we move to lie down, my head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around me. This is where I belong after a horrible night like the one I’ve just experienced, and I know he feels the same. “Will you be here when I wake up?” I ask as I’m falling asleep.

I feel him smile against my forehead as he responds, “Yes.”

Something isn’t right. After a rather pleasing dream in which Matthew had been in my room and we’d talked more candidly than we have in years, I fell asleep in his arms with his promise that he’d be there when I woke. The dream then evolved into something much less innocent than a conversation that has me squirming in my half-awake state. It’s then that I realize at least part of my dream wasn’t actually a dream. I’m sleeping practically on top of something that instinct tells me is none other than Matthew Young himself. My eyes snap open and I crane my head just enough to confirm it’s him and that he’s asleep. I bite my lip against anything more than a smile and take in our situation.

Both of his arms are wrapped protectively and possessively around my middle, his head resting against the pillow in a way I know will give him a neck crick for a few days at least. Asleep, his face is completely relaxed, which isn’t something most people get the pleasure of seeing. Most of the time, even when he’s in his playful moods, there’s still a fair bit of stress and strain evident in his features. His lips and nose are buried in my hair, and I wonder, not for the first time, whether he’s able to breathe like that. I then think about how incredible it is waking up in someone’s arms. True, I woke up several times in Tom’s arms, but it wasn’t ever like this. I was always a little uncomfortable, like we didn’t fit together the way we should. Our arms didn’t have a niche on each other’s bodies. Hugging or resting my head on his shoulder didn’t feel natural, and even the simple action of holding hands never worked—his hands fingers were so much larger than mine that they tended to squeeze mine almost to the point of pain. I never had that sort of trouble with Matthew. He and I always fit together perfectly in every way possible, and only now am I realizing just how much I lost when I left him.

I jump a little when the arm around my waist tightens briefly and see the beginning of a grin on his face at my reaction. “Well, hello,” he says huskily, pulling me closer. “Fancy meeting you here...”

Resting my chin on his chest, I meet his grin. “A shock, indeed,” I whisper. “Considering this is the room where I’ve been sleeping for nearly a week...”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. I watch as his grin turns wistful. “I’ve missed waking up with you in my arms.” And there it is, my old friend Guilt. Matthew must see my expression change, because a moment later, he’s flipped me onto my back and is propped up over me on an elbow. “I know I said I didn’t want to discuss it until I’m back from Italy, but I need to apologize for my behavior lately. I have treated you horribly, blaming you for things that we’re both at fault for, and shutting you out when I should have been telling you everything.”

“Matt...” I start.

He places a finger against my lips to stop me speaking. “I’m sorry, Samantha. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it and I want you to know that before I leave in the morning. You were my entire life and losing you nearly killed me. And I don’t need you to say anything right now, just please know that I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you. It doesn’t matter to me who comes into our lives; you will always be the one I need the most. That will never change.”

I’m speechless. And I’m pretty sure I’m crying, but I’m too busy trying to register his words to pay any attention to anything else. There is only one thing I can do at this point and I don’t hesitate to reach out a shaky hand to the back of his head and pull him down until our lips connect. I feel his mouth open in surprise, but I don’t stop and a second later, he shakes off his surprise, responding to my kiss with such intensity that he takes away my breath. My hands are fisted in his hair, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his own hands moving wherever he can reach.

He leaves my lips, trailing kisses down my jawline to my ear and I turn my head slightly to give him better access to my neck. Pressing his body into mine, he leaves me in very little doubt of where he wants this to lead and I have no intention of stopping him. He pulls aside the collar of my t-shirt, his tongue leaving a trail of fire wherever it goes. A hand tentatively finds the hem of my shirt and slides up my body. My back arches when his fingers brush against my breast and I feel him smiling against my throat at the reaction; his palm presses and kneads and I’m completely lost to his touch. But I need more. I need to feel his bare skin against mine, if for no other reason than to confirm this isn’t a dream. He moans against me when I tug his shirt up, splaying my hands on his back.

A moment later, I’m panicking. He pushes himself up onto his knees and looks at me with such contradicting emotion that I feel my heart fracturing even further. Desire. Reluctance. Fear. Lust. Love. He’s fighting with himself and I know better than to try pushing him in either direction. I wait incredibly impatiently while his eyes dart wildly around the room, his fingers running through his hair with such force that I wonder how he hasn’t ripped it right out of his head. Finally, his gaze returns to me and I know he’s come to a decision, even though I have no idea what that decision might be.

In the next second, he’s hastily shedding his shirt and unbuckling his pants, falling forward and resting his hands on either side of my head. “This is what you want?” he breathes, looking deeply into my eyes as he tries to see inside my very soul.

“Yes,” I whisper back. “You?”

He smirks and presses his hips into mine. I suck in a sharp breath when he grinds his erection against me. “What do you think?” he asks.

“I think I’m wearing too many clothes. And that we should probably stay quiet so we don’t draw any unwanted attention,” I gasp as he continues to move.

“I agree on both points,” he tells me, moving down my body. In one fluid movement, my shirt is gone and he’s pulling down my pajama bottoms, kissing every exposed inch of skin he finds. As though they remember exactly how this works, my hands move to slide into his hair, holding him to me as he kisses his way up my body, stopping just below where I want him to be. “I’ve missed you, Samantha.” He places a small kiss on the inside of my right thigh. “Your skin.” He moves to the left thigh. “How you move when I touch you.” His nose nuzzles against my panties as he inhales deeply. “Holy shit... How you smell...” His voice is so raw and I can barely focus on any one thing. “I’d almost forgotten.” His tongue darts out and I arch again, unable to stop the moan that tries to escape. His hand covers my mouth and I look down to find his dancing eyes just visible between my legs. “Remember. We’re supposed to be quiet. Can you do that?”

I whimper against his hand as his fingers trace my lips and his tongue goes to work on me. The fact that there is still a layer of—albeit thin—material between us is driving me crazy and he knows it, but he’s making no move to correct it. Returning to his task, I do my best to concentrate both on what he’s doing and not making a sound. Neither is exactly simple at the moment... Finally I feel him sliding my panties down my legs and I do what I can to help him along, which isn’t much, since the muscles in my legs aren’t cooperating. He manages it and before I can even think to protest that he isn’t returning to his previous activities, I feel his tongue, lips, and fingers exactly where I want them. Biting my lip so hard that I think it might bleed, I manage to hold back any noise louder than a slight whimper, but it’s getting more difficult, and I want more of him.

Fisting my hands in his hair again, as gently as I can, I pull him up towards me. He gets the hint and climbs up my body, crushing his lips to mine, dominating my mouth. I try to catch my breath, but don’t get the chance before his hips align with mine and he slowly sinks into me. Our eyes are wide as we stare at one another with what I can only describe as wonder. It feels as though nothing has changed, even though we both know
everything
has changed. And at the risk of sounding sappy and clichéd, I feel like I’ve just regained the part of me that’s been lost for the last five years.

Matthew rests his forehead on mine, breathing shallowly. “Would it be corny if I told you how incredible you feel around me?” he whispers against my lips.

I choke out a laugh, shaking my head gently. “No. I was just thinking the same thing.”

A large smile breaks out across his face as he pushes himself up just enough to get a bit of leverage to start moving. On reflex, my legs move to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, holding him more closely. He shifts, wrapping his arms around me, lowering his lips to my breasts, and increasing his pace within me. I have no idea how we’re not making a sound; if memory serves, we never were the most quiet couple when making love. That made for some very awkward moments at the breakfast table if we were staying with family.

My eyes lock with his determined ones and his thrusts increase in power and speed. It’s not long until his mouth is locked with mine, swallowing my cries as I climax. As I’m coming back to earth, he buries his face in my neck and I feel the little sounds coming from him as he tenses and lets go.

We lay like that for what feels like hours, holding each other so tightly that I think we’re trying to actually become one person. Finally he takes a deep, shuddering breath and pulls away, looking at me with an incredibly dazed expression that I know I’m mirroring. “Well, that was unexpected,” he says in a rush of breath, pressing his lips to mine.

There is so much I want to say right now: I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you. But only one thing seems right for the moment: “So did I fake it?”

He buries his face into my neck again to muffle his laughter. “No, baby,” he says, snickering, a proud smirk on his face. “That was not faked.”

Reluctantly, he pulls away from me, rolling onto his back, and taking me in his arms again. Neither of us speaks before we fall asleep again, but all I can think about is that he’s leaving me in the morning and I don’t know how long it will be before I see him again.

-------------o-------------

The next time I wake, I can see the sun shining through the window blinds. It takes several moments to figure out that I’m naked in bed when I know damn well I had on pajamas, and another several to figure out why I’m in this state. Sitting straight up, my eyes make a panicked dart around the room, searching for any sign that Matthew had been here and I wasn’t dreaming. I relax significantly, even laugh a little at myself when I find his leather jacket hanging on the back of the desk chair that’s still in place beside the bed.

Grinning, I slide out from beneath the covers and hastily dress. I don’t know what time his flight leaves and I want to see him before he goes. Not that I think he would leave without saying goodbye, especially after last night, but I don’t want to take the chance. I slow my pace considerably before taking the stairs—it would be just my luck to fall down and break my neck in my haste to find him—and turn the corner towards the kitchen. When I enter, I find Matthew and Claire each leaning against a counter opposite one another, coffee cups in their hands, in deep discussion. Matthew looks up first and a slow smile begins to grow on his face. I stop in the doorway, biting my lip against what I know will be a really stupid grin.

Claire looks between us for a moment and makes a sound of utter disgust. “Seriously, you two?” she demands. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to vomit.”

As she passes me, she belies her words with a little wink and smirk of her own and I know I’m going to hear it from her later on. For now, though, Matthew has set down his coffee cup and is looking at me expectantly. I cross over to him, slipping my arms around his waist, and standing on tiptoes to kiss him far too briefly. “Good morning,” he murmurs against my lips. “Did you sleep well?”

I grin. “Pretty well,” I say, nodding slowly. “Had the most incredible dream...”

He raises an eyebrow in interest. “Is that so? And what, pray tell, was that dream about?”

“Some guy snuck into my room and seduced me,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

“Seduced you, huh?” he replies skeptically. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who kissed me.”

“Still your fault,” I mutter, resting my head against his chest. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “When do you leave?” The volume of my voice is barely above a breath and I desperately hope he didn’t hear it so I don’t have to hear the answer.

He sighs, kissing my hair. “Couple hours,” he whispers. “I’ve got enough time for breakfast. Ty was awake early so he and I bonded over cartoons...”

I smile at the thought. “You’ll have to get back soon to bond some more with him,” I say, peeking up at him through my eyelashes.

His gaze darkens. “I think I need some more bonding time with you as well,” he says huskily. “And as much as I would like that time to be right fucking now, it’s probably not a good idea with four kids and Claire running around. Kind of kills the mood, you know?”

I giggle, even as his face grows more serious.

“Besides, before we go losing ourselves in each other again, I think we need to have a talk,” he tells me.

Despite agreeing with him, I’d really rather pretend we’d already had our talk. I think he would as well. I nod silently, and he lifts my chin for a kiss. “Have breakfast with me?” he asks hopefully when we part.

“I’d love to.”

-------------o-------------

The first time I visited Matthew at his house in New York, I was terrified. Not only was it my first time away from home without my family, it was the first time I’d ever considered sleeping with a man. Before even boarding the plane, I knew this was what Matthew would expect since I was planning on staying with him for two weeks. Throughout the conversations we’d had in the few months we’d known one another, I’d learned he’d had several... well, I suppose you could call them girlfriends, if you were being charitable. The point is he was much more experienced than I, and all I could think about was how much of a disappointment I would be to him. Even through the long distance between us, I’d fallen for him incredibly quickly and hard, and I had started getting the impression he felt the same. I couldn’t stomach the thought that after all the connecting we’d done with one another, this would be the thing that ended it.