Back to the Farm Ch. 07

I see trees of green... red roses too...

"Are you crazy?" she gasped, nonetheless finding she was smiling, Matt already slowly rocking from side to side, forcing her to sway in rhythm.

I watch them bloom... for me and you...

"'And I think to myself'," he joined in softly, "'what a wonderful wo-o-rld...'"

"You're mad!"

She heard him laugh before he pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Inspired choice of song, huh?"

Pulling back to look at him, she rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure Louis's not singing about the wonder of a thunderstorm."

"Of course he is." But even as he grinned down at her, they both heard the next line.

I see skies of blue...and clouds of white...

"Okay then." Matt's lips twisted. "Maybe not." And laughing again, he tucked her head back in against his shoulder and whirled her around.

Oh... It felt good, Melissa realised, much too good. To be held by those strong arms, to be pressed so intimately against him, the damp warmth of his body radiating through his T-shirt and straight through her thin camisole blouse. He even smelled wonderful, a heady blend that was only five percent aftershave, ninety-five percent pure Matt McKenzie...

Now he was singing in her ear again, the words of the old standard so familiar, his voice just as familiar, the affectionate gesture deeply comforting. And suddenly she knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the moment--this moment--would stay with her forever. "Matt," she whispered, raising her head to meet his gaze, not knowing what she wanted to say, only thatsomething needed to be said. "I..." But before she could say another word, he lowered his head, his mouth closing softly over hers.

Even though he'd kissed her before, Melissa instantly knew this was different. He seemed in no hurry, his lips brushing lightly over her own, lingering over the movement as though he was trying to commit each touch to memory. Sweet and tender and agonisingly slow, it was several seconds before she realised what he was doing. He was letting her know he wasn't calling the shots--she was. He was waiting for her to make the next move, for her to need more, for her to take it to the next level.

Could she do that--and if she did, what then? She experienced a surge of panic. Was this a runaway train, or could she still slam on the brakes? Would shewant to slam on the brakes? She didn't know, couldn't think straight, Matt's hands so wonderfully warm on her back, those butterfly-like kisses intoxicating. The only thing she knew for certain was that she wanted more. And aware of just how quickly her heart was beating, she slid one hand behind his neck, closed her eyes and shyly touched the very tip of her tongue to his lower lip.

She felt his smile, his mouth curving against her own as he welcomed her in at last, his tongue meeting then sliding over hers, languorous and gentle. Absurdly, the floor seemed to drop away from beneath them, her body oddly boneless, reliant on the strength of his arms. Yet still they danced, Louis Armstrong's gravelly voice all around them, the sound almost completely muffling the wind and rain.

Although she'd been aware of Matt's hands all along, it wasn't until one rose to her neck and then to the back of her head that she became fully conscious of what he was doing, his fingers burrowing deliciously into her hair mere moments before he deepened the kiss. The pleasure intense, it was another few seconds before she noticed the progress of his other hand, slipping stealthily beneath her blouse, stroking the smooth bare skin just above her skirt.

As her eyes flew open, she discovered him watching her, his own eyes darker than she'd ever seen them. "Liss," he murmured, a single fingertip still tracing tiny circles over that small, unexpectedly sensitive patch at her waist, his touch sending showers of sparks down her spine. "We can stop, you know. If this is--"

"No!" The word springing from her throat without permission, it surprised her almost as much as it seemed to delight him, and as his smile broadened she reached up to kiss him this time, looping both of her arms around his neck. But just as she rose on her toes, the lights flickered, the tempo of the song dipping before returning to normal, the enormous crack of thunder that followed leaving no doubt as to the cause of the power outage.

"S'okay," Matt soothed as she tensed. "It's all right. The storm's moving away now. There was a good couple of seconds between the lightning and the thunder that time. Ah--see that?" As if to prove his point, another two flashes had brightened the room in quick succession. "Now listen... One... two... "

She nodded in relief as the rumble began on the third second, giving him a rueful smile. "God, I'm sorry," she said as he gazed down at her, once again struck by the almost fierce tenderness in his expression. "I know it's stupid. I know I'm--"

"Ssh," he said softly, shaking his head. And before she could utter another word, he recaptured her lips.

This time the gentleness was gone. Not that he was rough, far from it, but now there was a sense of urgency that took her completely unawares. All at once, what had been simple kissing had escalated into something far more, and caught up by his desire, she was responding in kind, her own need that this should happen--and happennow--spiralling higher and higher. She could feel his hands exploring again, sweeping upwards beneath her camisole, his palms gloriously hot against her ribcage. Needing to touch him too, she burrowed beneath his T-shirt, revelling in the warm flesh she discovered there, the contours of his back, the musculature of his shoulders...

Was this real? Was she dreaming? She wasn't sure, couldn't tell, didn't care. It seemed real enough, Matt's mouth claiming hers with masterful precision, kissing her as she'd never been kissed before, leaving her giddy with pleasure, breathless with desire. But when he unhooked her bra, she knew she couldn't be dreaming, the abrupt release of tension startling as his fingers slipped beneath the band. And easing the fabric away from her aching breasts, he cupped them in his hands before slowly circling both nipples with his thumbs.

Melissa cried out. She couldn't help it, the sensation so overwhelming, so exquisite, there was nothing she could've done to stop herself. Once again, she felt Matt's smile against her lips, his thumbs still relentlessly brushing those sensitive buds into taut peaks. "You're a screamer?" he murmured, sounded amused. "Now that's something I'd never have guessed." Then he tilted his head on one side, still smiling. "Though maybe I should've done. You always used to squeal like a pig when I tickled you."

But this wasn't tickling, she thought, suddenly appreciating just how far she was out of her depth. This was way beyond tickling...

I see friends shaking hands... saying how do you do?

"Matt," she faltered, her heart thudding faster than she'd ever thought it could. "The thing is--" But before she could finish, the lights stuttered then went out, plunging the room into total darkness.

They're really say-ay-ing... I-I... lur-rv-ve... you-oo-oo-r-rr-rrr...

"Oh God!" she gasped as the loudspeakers died, the pitch of Louis' already bass vocals descending to a barrel-scraping growl. "Matt!"

"It's okay. I'm here, we're all right. It's--" But as she wrenched herself out of his arms and staggered backwards, the conciliatory note in his voice switched to one of astonishment. "Hey! Where are you going? It'll just be a line down, that's all. Or I guess the substation might've been struck. There's no need to panic."

But Melissa's panic had started before the electricity failed, the ensuing blackout having only served to bring her violently to her senses. What on earth had she been thinking? How could she have let things go that far? "Candles," she managed, trying to peer through the gloom but unable to make out a thing. Where was the door, for heaven's sake? "We--we need candles." And realising she needed to decide on a direction before Matt could reach out and grab her, she blindly lurched forward.

"Lissy!" His warning was a mixture of amusement and concern. "The kitchen'sthat way."

"What way?" How the hell could he see? But before he could respond, an obliging flash of lightning flooded the room, and in the split second before everything turned black again, she spotted the door.

"Liss--wait." As she scurried towards it, she could feel him right behind her. "Come on," he cajoled, raising his voice to make himself heard above the thunder. "We don't need candles, okay? Maybe this is your chance to stop being scared. Maybe--"

"I'm not scared!" she snapped, at last reaching the hall, only to realise she had no idea as to the precise location of the kitchen. "I just think--oh--ow!" The shock of colliding with the doorframe brought tears to her eyes even before she felt the pain in her elbow. "Forfuck's sake!"

"Melissa Barton." Matt caught her around the waist, his laughter soft in her ear. "Such language. I thought you never swore. Aw..." Gently, he rubbed at her arm, attempting to soothe the sting. "Listen, I'll tell you what. Let's--hey!" He sounded startled as she yanked herself away again, using the countertops to feel her way around to the kitchen sink. "Come on, sweetheart. This is crazy."

"No it isn't!" But Melissa knew she seemed hysterical now. "Matt, I can't see! I can't see--and Ihate the dark, and Ihate thunderstorms--"

"I know." Suddenly he was behind her again, tugging her against him, wrapping her up so tightly there was no way she could escape this time. "I know, okay? But I'm here and I've got you and you're safe."

"But the candles..."

Matt made a low growling sound. "We don't need the bloody candles." He kissed her throat, tender nibbling kisses that made the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. "Scared of the dark," he mocked, though not unkindly, one arm continuing to hold her against him, his other hand setting off on another exploratory mission beneath her camisole. "You see, I think it's all about association. I think if you can associate the dark with something nice, you won't be scared anymore."

"Something nice?" Melissa squeaked, unnerved yet thrilled in equal measure to feel his fingers working their way across her abdomen.

She felt him nodding, knew he was smiling. "Something nice," he repeated. With that, he began kissing her neck again, his hand drifting beneath her loosened bra.

It wasn't just nice, it was wonderful, she realised, gasping as he lightly pinched her nipple, her skin burning everywhere his mouth and fingers made contact. And all at once she was glad she couldn't see, knew full well she would never have let him do this in the light. There was something about the darkness that made everything unreal, as though none of it was happening, not to her. Yet at the same time, she knew itwas real; there could be no mistaking the desire rippling down her spine, the mounting ache between her thighs.

But when she flinched at another flash of lightning, she felt his embrace tighten. "Lissy, Lissy, Lissy... It's all right," he said, his mouth right beside her ear. "Relax, close your eyes."

And as she obeyed, she became aware he was working at the buttons of her blouse, undoing them one by one. "Oh..."

"Hmm." His fingers stilled. "You know, maybe Ishould stop--"

"No!" she interrupted, once again startled by the vehemence of her response. "But..." What was she supposed to be doing now? Should she be trying to undresshim too? Uncertain, she reached backwards but only managed to grab a fistful of T-shirt.

"Uh uh." She heard his relieved chuckle, his hand batting hers away before returning to the next button. "Later, sweetheart."

"I just thought--"

"Ssh." His mouth brushing against her neck, he planted another string of searing kisses across the delicate skin there before drawing her camisole back across her shoulders, his fingers skimming her upper arms, finding the straps of her bra, pulling that away too. "Don't think. Just feel."

Just feel? Melissa couldn't help but feel, Matt's hands seemingly everywhere, stroking the curve of her belly, blazing warmth across her ribcage, teasing, tantalising, touching her everywhere but where she most wanted to be touched. So when he finally captured her breasts in his palms, she cried out her pleasure, the continuing flashes of lightning, the almost constant rumbling of thunder around them all merging into a cacophony of sensation.

Yet suddenly, even the way he was cupping, squeezing, moulding her tender flesh wasn't sufficient, the swirling of his fingertips over her highly-sensitised nipples no longer enough. All it was doing was making her conscious of the rising pressure low in her belly, a pleasurable heaviness, an ache that increased ten-fold as Matt's right hand drifted back to her tummy. But then that hand slid lower, moving over the fabric of her short skirt, sweeping downwards before catching the hem, his fingers trailing fire across her bare legs as he eased it upwards, one tormenting inch at a time.

"Matt," she managed at last, barely able to breathe, his name coming out in a gasp. "Oh God, Matt..."

"Open," he murmured, his fingers flattening against her inner thigh.

"Oh..." Unaware she'd been impeding his progress, she allowed her trembling legs to part, gasping anew as his hand rose between them. "Oh God..."

"S'okay." Once again, she felt his mouth against her neck, his kiss soothing. "Aw, Lissy. It's been a long time since anyone did this for you, huh?"

A long time? "Er..." she began uncertainly but he was already shaking his head, his hair brushing against her cheek.

"It's all right, sweetheart. I just want to make you feel--" and gently, his fingers made contact with her underwear, rubbing her intimately through the thin cotton "--good... Ohyeah." She heard his soft laughter in her ear when she shuddered, her back arching against him, his left hand warm on her breast. "Seems like that's working."

"Matt," she gulped, still struggling for breath, "Listen... I need to--there's something--" But before she could manage a coherent sentence, he'd hitched her skirt even higher, his hand rising over the front of her briefs before edging beneath the elastic, pulling them down, letting them fall to the floor. And when his fingers returned, dipping into the soft curls between her thighs, she uttered a sharp cry, the pleasure as intense as it was unexpected.

"Lissy." He sounded amused, holding her more firmly now as he continued to stroke her gently, making her whimper again as he slid a single finger between her soft folds. "God, you're wet," he murmured, even as she realised she could feel the hard evidence of his own arousal against her back. "Sopping wet. Soaking. You needed this, didn't you?"

But Melissa could no longer respond, could barely stand, that uncomfortable yet pleasurable ache low in her belly building at an astonishing rate as he continued to caress her, adding another finger now, his whole hand becoming slick with her juices. How on earth did he know how to do this? Exactly how much pressure to use, where to touch her? Even she'd never touched herself like this... And bizarrely, she was suddenly aware of her own hands, acutely conscious there was nowhere to put them, nothing to grasp hold of, no way of bracing herself against the onslaught ofthis storm...

"OhGod!" she wailed as the first wave of her orgasm slammed through her, her knees buckling as she flailed helplessly. "Matt!"

"Lissy!" Laughing, he held her tightly until the worst of the tremors passed, planting delighted kisses against her throat. "Hell, you really did need that, didn't you? Just how longhas it been?"

But before she could suck in enough breath to answer he propelled her still-trembling body forwards until she collided with the kitchen table. And turning her in his arms, he lifted her then sat her upon it, laughing again when she yelped at the cold wood beneath her bare bottom. "Sorry," he murmured with mock-solemnity, gazing into her face, for the first time wishing it wasn't quite so dark.

He couldn't remember wanting to see any woman's expression quite as badly as he wanted to see Lissy's right now. To see her eyes widen as he eased himself inside her for the first time, to watch her spiralling desire as he pushed into her again and again. But then, he couldn't remember wanting to make love to any woman quite as badly as he wanted to make love to Lissy right now either. And leaning forward, he captured her lips once more and reached down to release the button on his shorts, shucking them away with his underwear, the relief at finally being able to free his straining erection incredible.

As he gently tipped her backwards, he followed her down, covering her in kisses, her face, her neck, her breasts. "You think that was good?" he murmured, smiling when he found she was still trembling beneath him, fighting for breath. That really must have been some orgasm... "You ain't seen nothing yet, gorgeous."

"No?"

He experienced a rush of tenderness as he gazed down at her, the note of almost scared disbelief in her tone causing something to clench in the pit of his stomach. "Oh no," he said, shaking his head before bending to nibble at one nipple and then the other. "That was just for starters. The main course is going to be even better." When she squirmed, he grinned, straightening up and taking a step backwards. And hooking her legs over his forearms, he slipped his hands beneath the small of her back and abruptly tugged, hearing her shriek as she slid towards him across the polished table. "As for dessert..."

But he didn't want to tease any longer, couldn't wait any longer, her soft skin pliant beneath his fingers, the musky aroma of her desire obvious, the memory of her rapturous sob still ringing in his ears. And edging forward, he moved into position, aligning himself perfectly before plunging deep.

It was heaven to hell in a single thrust.

Matt knew what he'd done long before she went rigid beneath him, long before he heard her anguished cry, her snug walls so hot, so wet, yet so impossibly tight, there was no question of what he'd done. Because it made sense--it made perfect sense. In fact, the only thing that didn't make sense was why he hadn't even considered it a possibility.

"Lissy," he ground out, the effort of holding himself motionless inside her taking everything he'd got, the primal urge to drive deeper still, to make her his and only his almost overpowering. "God..." But he couldn't let himself move, no matter what. Even to withdraw would only hurt her more. "Why thehell didn't you tell me?"

"Because you'd have stopped!" She was shaking violently beneath him, around him, her voice quivering. "If you'd known, this wouldn't have happened--"

"Damned right this wouldn't have happened. Jesus, Lissy!"

"Matt..." Her eyes filled with tears at the anger in his tone. "Please. I wanted this. I wanted this to happen, okay?"

"What? Youplanned this?"

"No! You know I didn't. How could I have done? Neither of us knew this was going to happen, did we?"

"You just said you wanted this to happen!"

"I know." She bit her lip, though it was too late to stem the tears trickling into her hair. "But I didn't know--I didn't know th-that it would--that it ever c-could..."

"What? Liss--" When his tone softened, she knew he'd realised she was crying. "I don't understand."

She knew that too. How could he understand? Everything Matt McKenzie had ever wanted, he'd got, she thought bitterly. He'd passed every exam, won every job interview, dated every girl he'd ever fancied. Did he have the faintest idea how it felt to want something you could never have? "I wanted it to be you," she mumbled at last, overwhelmed by sensation, by the feel of his fingers digging into her back, the burning between her thighs, his hard length unyielding, stretching her to the limit. "I always wanted it to be you."