Read Online One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) by Gillian Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gillian Jones
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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
“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
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