Read Online Underneath It All (The Walsh Series #1) by Kate Canterbary - Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Canterbary
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I bit my lip, hesitating for a moment. I didn’t know much about sex beyond some college hook-ups and Sex and the City reruns. Sure, there were plenty of secret cravings and dirty thoughts, but not much experience to back them up. I didn’t know what I was doing here, and the fear of doing the wrong thing left me doubting my instincts all over again.
“I saw that.” Matthew rolled his hips, pressing himself against me. My lips parted on a gasp, my eyes wide. “Say what you want to say, sweetness. You can’t scare me away.”
I didn’t have to be a sex expert to know that erection was from me and for me, and it was all the reassurance I needed. “How much longer do I have to wait to hear about this list? I might want to make some additions.”
“Oh, holy fuck, Lauren.”
Chapter Six
MATTHEW
T he first time I rode the elevator to my loft was when my sister, Shannon, was walking me through the unit. I preferred stairs, but Shannon liked to say her sky-high heels were “for show, not go” and I bowed to her request to take the elevator.
She scouted the property about five years ago. The previous owner was a little old lady who kept a couple litters of cats and every edition of the Boston Herald published in the past thirty years. She died in her sleep, but her nieces and nephews didn’t notice for weeks. The place needed a complete overhaul and extensive fumigation but the price was far below market value. The two hundred and seventy degree views of Boston Harbor sold me on the unit at first glance. I bought it, gutted it to the studs, and replaced everything.
My second ride in that elevator was with Lauren. By my estimate, it lasted just under ninety seconds, but I wouldn’t be looking at elevators the same way again.
We were backed into the corner, her leg hooked over my hip and her hands flat against the walls. Heat radiated from between her legs and I leaned into it, groaning as I crouched down and buried my face in her neck. Her height was an obstacle. Even in ass-kicking heels, she barely reached my chin but touching her was worth the challenge.
Lauren’s hands attacked the top buttons of my shirt and she kissed from my collarbone to the shell of my ear, her lips urgent and demanding, and I fucking loved it. My hand ran under her dress and up her thigh, and I savored the reward of her rocking against my palm. She was hot and wet there, and I entertained some panty-ripping scenarios on the ride to the fifth floor.
We stumbled from the elevator, laughing into each other’s mouths, our hands busy stroking, tugging, exploring. I walked backward in the general vicinity of my place, my shoulder eventually connecting with the doorframe. “This is me,” I said against her cheek.
Lauren craned her neck over my shoulder. “This isn’t happening in the hallway, Matthew.”
She was honey in my hands, and so fucking bossy, and it all destroyed any semblance of ordered thought. “Keys. In my pocket.”
Lauren didn’t skip a beat. She went for the wrong pocket, but didn’t retreat when she found it empty. Instead, she scraped her nails up and down my inner thigh while fishing the keys from the other side. Her knuckles grazed my cock, and it didn’t matter that a layer of clothing separated us, her touch was a heated, impatient caress, and I wanted her. I bit down on her lip with a growl, and then she did it again.
Pivoting, I pressed Lauren against the door and fumbled with the keys. Her hand moved down my chest and over my belt, her palm covering me. She squeezed, dragging the pressure from root to tip, and sent me a shameless smile that said she knew exactly what she intended to do with me.
“When you open that door, decide what you want from your long, filthy list.” She pumped twice, and I started begging myself to stay in control. “I want it to include plenty of this.” She gripped me again, hard. “Inside me.”
“I have a pretty good idea what you want, sweetness,” I said, and pushed
“I saw that.” Matthew rolled his hips, pressing himself against me. My lips parted on a gasp, my eyes wide. “Say what you want to say, sweetness. You can’t scare me away.”
I didn’t have to be a sex expert to know that erection was from me and for me, and it was all the reassurance I needed. “How much longer do I have to wait to hear about this list? I might want to make some additions.”
“Oh, holy fuck, Lauren.”
Chapter Six
MATTHEW
T he first time I rode the elevator to my loft was when my sister, Shannon, was walking me through the unit. I preferred stairs, but Shannon liked to say her sky-high heels were “for show, not go” and I bowed to her request to take the elevator.
She scouted the property about five years ago. The previous owner was a little old lady who kept a couple litters of cats and every edition of the Boston Herald published in the past thirty years. She died in her sleep, but her nieces and nephews didn’t notice for weeks. The place needed a complete overhaul and extensive fumigation but the price was far below market value. The two hundred and seventy degree views of Boston Harbor sold me on the unit at first glance. I bought it, gutted it to the studs, and replaced everything.
My second ride in that elevator was with Lauren. By my estimate, it lasted just under ninety seconds, but I wouldn’t be looking at elevators the same way again.
We were backed into the corner, her leg hooked over my hip and her hands flat against the walls. Heat radiated from between her legs and I leaned into it, groaning as I crouched down and buried my face in her neck. Her height was an obstacle. Even in ass-kicking heels, she barely reached my chin but touching her was worth the challenge.
Lauren’s hands attacked the top buttons of my shirt and she kissed from my collarbone to the shell of my ear, her lips urgent and demanding, and I fucking loved it. My hand ran under her dress and up her thigh, and I savored the reward of her rocking against my palm. She was hot and wet there, and I entertained some panty-ripping scenarios on the ride to the fifth floor.
We stumbled from the elevator, laughing into each other’s mouths, our hands busy stroking, tugging, exploring. I walked backward in the general vicinity of my place, my shoulder eventually connecting with the doorframe. “This is me,” I said against her cheek.
Lauren craned her neck over my shoulder. “This isn’t happening in the hallway, Matthew.”
She was honey in my hands, and so fucking bossy, and it all destroyed any semblance of ordered thought. “Keys. In my pocket.”
Lauren didn’t skip a beat. She went for the wrong pocket, but didn’t retreat when she found it empty. Instead, she scraped her nails up and down my inner thigh while fishing the keys from the other side. Her knuckles grazed my cock, and it didn’t matter that a layer of clothing separated us, her touch was a heated, impatient caress, and I wanted her. I bit down on her lip with a growl, and then she did it again.
Pivoting, I pressed Lauren against the door and fumbled with the keys. Her hand moved down my chest and over my belt, her palm covering me. She squeezed, dragging the pressure from root to tip, and sent me a shameless smile that said she knew exactly what she intended to do with me.
“When you open that door, decide what you want from your long, filthy list.” She pumped twice, and I started begging myself to stay in control. “I want it to include plenty of this.” She gripped me again, hard. “Inside me.”
“I have a pretty good idea what you want, sweetness,” I said, and pushed
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