Not My Type: Felicity Ch. 08byfirstkiss©
"I used to think I knew everything there was to know about you!" Matt said loud enough for me to hear over the rushing winds. "I was wrong." His hands warmed my bare arms while he towered over me.
"I didn't know you. Not the way I thought I did. You weren't just the girl who rolled her eyes at my jokes, who always looked dwarfed by a pair of coveralls. You weren't just the girl who could fix anything even though you've got the smallest hands I'd ever seen."
He moved closer to me still. The heat radiated off his broad chest.
"You work so damn hard and never make a penny. You cry when no one's around because you take care of everyone before yourself. You don't ask for help even when you need it the most. You don't own a dress but you do own a thong." His voice dropped in volume as the distance between us shrank. "You can sing like an angel and you didn't even know it because you've put so much of yourself into keeping the garage going." Matt cupped my cheek and I nestled into the comfort of his wide, rough palm. "And you have no idea how beautiful you are."
I looked up at him then. The rain cascaded off his face, dripping down the end of his nose and coursing down his cheeks.
"I messed up," he confessed into the howling wind. "Being with you opened my eyes to something I never even knew I wanted . . . I freaked out. You're so much more than I ever let myself see. How is that I didn't ever notice? Everyone else noticed, you know. Lilly and Adam, Rhi and Joe, the Rev and Adele—hell, even my parents and Chuck and Vi noticed. They've been giving me hell all week."
I couldn't speak past the ache in my chest.
"I didn't know," Matt continued. His sapphire eyes never wavered as they held mine. "I hate myself because I didn't know. All I knew is that I wanted to help you, to take care of you. I didn't want you flirting with that Ryan guy or anyone else. I couldn't stand the idea of you kissing anyone else; I didn't want to share you."
"How can you still look at me?" he whispered, his husky voice tinted with anguish. "How can you not hate me after what I did?"
My voice cracked as I told him, "I could never hate you, Matt. Even after what happened . . ." After all he'd put me through I never once hated him, I'd only hated myself.
"I've wanted to tell you. All week I knew I had to say something, anything to you to get you to smile at me again. But I couldn't, not with your dad around. And then the more time passed, the harder it was -- I was just diggin' myself into a deeper hole and I didn't know how to get out of it. Everyone is pissed at me. My family, you, your dad, myself..."
"That wasn't my fault," I pointed out. "I didn't ask him to come back."
Matt smoothed the wet hair from my forehead. "I know. I could see he needed to be there though and that he needed to do that for you. He's not well, is he?"
"He's getting better," I said with a small smile, hopeful that it was true. "He's changed."
"He's changed and I've changed," Matt confessed. "But you've stayed the same."
My cheek brushed against his palm as I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. After last weekend, how could I ever be the same?"
A smile flitted over Matt's handsome face. "That's how I feel about it too. That's why I freaked out. You were Flick, just Flick. Then all of a sudden you were flirtatious and beautiful and . . . The last thing I expected was that you'd make my head spin. You weren't supposed to fit so perfectly with me."
"What was I supposed to be?" I couldn't help but ask.
Matt took the last step forward and wrapped me in his arms. I shivered as I pressed myself against his warm, solid body while the storm raged around us.
"That's the thing," he admitted gruffly. "You are all of those things. I'm the one who's supposed to stop being so stupid and realize it."
My arms banded around Matt's waist and I rested my cheek against his chest. "You're not stupid," I said with a smile.
"I'm an idiot," Matt argued with a chuckle. "A gigantic idiot."
I closed my eyes, completely oblivious to the rain and the cold, only concerned with being held by Matt again. "Okay, you're a bit of an idiot."
He drew back and arched his brow like he did whenever we teased each other. I knew we were going to be okay.
"I'm sorry," Matt murmured against the top of my head. "I'm so sorry I ran away. You scared me, Felicity. What I feel for you scared me."
I nodded. I understood completely. It scared me too.
"I will never leave you again," Matt promised. He cupped my cheeks and raised my chin so he could look me in the eyes. "I will never hurt you again."
He wouldn't. I knew he wouldn't. Because of all the things Matt had ever said to me, or done to me, he'd never, ever lied to me.
His mouth hovered just above my own. "I think I love you."
I rose onto my tiptoes and my next words brushed his lips. "I think I love you too."
We kissed with a ferocity that rivalled the waves crashing at our feet. Every movement of Matt's lips against my own, each delve of his tongue into my mouth, was an apology and a promise.
"I take it back," Matt gasped when we broke apart, both fighting for air. "I don't think I love you." He brushed the rain from my cheeks. I wondered if he knew it was mixed with my tears. "I know it."
Before I responded, however, Matt swept me up into his arms and carried me back down the beach. Automatically I threw my arms around his neck.
"What are you doing?" I shrieked in his ear.
He chuckled and dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. "Bringing you inside where it's warm and dry. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, remember?"
"I can walk," I reminded Matt, who pretended not to listen.
The door opened for us as we approached the cottage. Everyone laughed as Matt manoeuvred through the doorway without putting me down.
Rhiannon, Adele, and Violet chorused, "'Bout time!"
Matt blushed beneath the dusting of freckles on his rain-stung cheeks.
Joe held a stack of fluffy towels. "Yer drippin' on the floor," he deadpanned in his signature low voice.
Rhiannon took the towels from her husband and since my hands were busy clasping the back of Matt's neck, she piled them on my stomach. "Why don't you two go upstairs and dry off?"
Matt didn't wait for further instruction. I held on as he moved from the sun porch, through the living room and to the steep stairs leading to the second floor. I thought he might put me down to make the climb, but he didn't.
Upstairs, we bypassed the small room that was Sophie's nursery and headed straight for the long, narrow spare bedroom that stretched across the front of the second storey. A few single beds lined the wall beneath the windows. The ceiling was so low under the eaves that Matt had to duck his head. He made his way straight to the far corner, where a double bed was nestled against the wall.
Without ceremony, he dropped me onto the mattress. I squealed with laughter as I bounced, sending towels flying everywhere. Then before I could protest, Matt lowered himself to cover my wet body with his own.
"This isn't drying off," I teased as his mouth fastened immediately on the skin behind my ear. "We're getting the bed all wet. And your family is right downstairs!"
Matt didn't respond. His mouth trailed over my damp neck and up over my jaw. There was a low growl in the back of his throat as his mouth met mine.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into the kiss. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
His hands travelled over me, moving relentlessly against the clammy fabric between us. My nipples drew tight against the wet cotton, even before his hands grazed over them. With a groan, Matt tore his mouth away and sat back to stare down at me.
"Your kisses are like surprises."
I lay still under his gaze.
"I can see you nipples through your shirt."
I rushed to cover myself, but Matt caught hold of my wrists. He bent his head and laved my breast, his mouth suddenly warm through the wet, cold t-shirt.
"I have never seen anything sexier than you wet," he said as my spine arched off the mattress in pleasure. He palmed my breasts again with his warm hands.
I groaned and shivered at the same time.
"And as much fun as it is, I won't have you catchin' pneumonia on my watch." Matt's hands strayed to the hem of my soaked t-shirt. "Sit up."
The cool air in the room flooded over my damp, chilled skin the second he peeled off my shirt.
"Don't you ever wear a bra?" Matt teased, his voice rough in the back of his throat.
"I do!" I shot back, completely aware of what a sight I must be, half-naked, wet, and covered in goosebumps. "It's just that it's laundry day."
He reached for a towel, wrapped it around me, and dried my skin with vigorous rubbing motions. "And what about last weekend?"
"How could that be my fault when you're the one who bought me a strapless dress without anything to wear under it?"
Matt paused and drew aside the towel. I felt a bit drier and warmer, but still my nipples purled tightly. Matt moaned and closed his lips over one again. I threw my head back at the wonderful sensation, but mindful of the crowd downstairs, managed to stifle my hungry moans.
I hissed when a cold droplet plopped from Matt's wet hair onto my skin.
"You're dripping on me," I chided with a laugh as I tried to jokingly push him away. My small hands on Matt's broad shoulders didn't accomplish a thing. He nibbled on my nipple with renewed vigour, shooting tingles of pleasure down to my toes.
With a mischievous chuckle he raised himself until he hovered over my bare chest. He shook his head, making cold droplets rain down over me.
I shrieked and shoved him again but was no match for his strength. We wrestled and laughed as I tried to slap a dry towel over Matt's wet hair. His wide hands made short work of my damp khaki pants while my fingers shed him of his sopping polo shirt and jeans. Each article of clothing tossed to the floor, landed with a wet, heavy plop.
Our laughter rang off the low, sloped ceiling as our teasing and play continued on. Matt kept me pinned under him for a long time as his mouth explored my body, each kiss punctuated with a whispered apology. Then without putting up much of a fight, he let me flip him onto his back.
"Ha! I win," I boasted after I straddled him. I held his wrists down on the bed and grinned smugly while Matt lay back into the bundle of damp sheets and towels. His sapphire eyes were heavy-lidded.
"If you say so." Then with a chuckle he shifted his hips and I became aware of his groin pressing intimately against my own. He felt hard and huge.
A groan escaped my lips although I tried to stop it.
"Your family is right downstairs," I reminded him while I blushed.
"No they're not." Matt smirked as he repeated the wiggle of hips. He succeeded in sliding himself between my slick lips. We both groaned.
"I heard them leave ten minutes ago."
I kept Matt's wrists pinned to the mattress. "They left?"
He bucked beneath me again, grinding himself against my most sensitive spots. I saw stars.
"To give us a little privacy, I'm thinkin'." The corner of his mouth curled upwards. "Isn't that nice? I'd hate to hurt their feelings and not take advantage of it."
I wanted him so badly I shook with it, but I couldn't chase away the logical voice in the back of my head. "They'll all know what we were up to."
"I sure hope so," Matt growled yet he lay perfectly still beneath me. "I want them to know how much I love you. Now would you please let me apologize to you properly?"
My heart melted. So did my grip on Matt. He must have been waiting for the moment I weakened because before I could think he sat up with his wide hands clutching at my back. He lifted me just enough that he could slide into my wetness and heat.
I threw my head back, balanced on Matt's hands as our hips ground together. The fullness of him surprised me still.
"So small," Matt rasped through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into my skin as his mouth descended to my upturned breasts. He feasted and I let a loud moan escape.
"So perfect." He bit at my skin, nipping me and then laving over the small hurt with the flat of his tongue.
"So sexy," he groaned as I mewed and writhed against him. His hand slid up my spine to cup the back of my head. He held me still as he plundered my mouth.
"Come for me," he whispered against my lips. "I want to watch you come for me."
His words were all I was waiting for. The fullness of him inside of me built quickly to an unbearable pressure. I cried his name as I tumbled over the edge into bliss.
"Good girl," Matt rumbled. Then he pulled me down on top of him as he lay once more against the sheets.
Gravity had its way with us. If I thought Matt filled me before, it was nothing compared to when I rode above him. I looked down at him wide-eyed, almost afraid to move. Matt's hands were gentle on my hips.
"Take your time," he urged. I saw the strain in his face and felt the tautness in his muscles as he held himself still, waiting for me to move. "Sit up."
"I-I don't think I can."
Matt chuckled, and the rumble of his laughter shot vibrations all the way through me. "Sure you can, honey." He put one hand against my sternum and gently pushed until I sat upright above him.
"Make love to me, Felicity."
I moved because he asked me to and when I did the sensation was so intense I shuddered. Full, I felt so full. My body moved of its own accord though, greedily wanting more. I rose and fell above Matt, my hips swayed with a rhythm foreign to me. His groans fed my own hunger. He gripped my waist so hard it was a wonder I could even breathe.
My pace increased as I felt the rush of pleasure build again. I braced my hands against Matt's solid abdomen and rode him with everything I had in me, determined to bring him over the edge with me.
It was probably just as well that there wasn't anyone else in the cottage. I screamed when I came, collapsing over Matt with a small sob. His arms came around me and he smoothed the hair from my forehead.
"You did so well," he murmured. His hips continued to move beneath me in tempo with the contractions of my body around his. "So well."
I felt him tense and then the hot pulse of his release. Satisfied, I smiled into the crook of his neck.
There were a few minutes of silence as we both tried to catch our breath.
"Am I squishing you?" I asked when I realized I'd collapsed completely on top of him.
Matt laughed before placing a small kiss on my forehead.
"No honey, you're not squishing me. You weigh a hundred pounds. How are you going to squish me?
"Close enough," Matt said gruffly into my hairline.
"Where do you think everyone went?" I asked as I snuggled closer to Matt's warmth.
His hand groped around the bed on the other side of us. Then Matt drew a semi-dry towel over me.
"Mom and Dad's? Nate's? Rhiannon's condo in the city? Who cares?" He chuckled. "They left me alone with you, that's all that matters."
I giggled. "You can't keep me all to yourself all the time."
Matt gave me another growl. "Wanna bet?"
I smiled as I plunged my hands into his thick, still-damp hair. "We have to emerge some time."
"Not till our clothes are dry." We both looked over the side of the bed at the puddle of clothes.
"They're not going to dry like that. Do you suppose Rhi and Joe have a dryer?"
Beneath the towel Matt's hands roamed down my spine to caress my backside. He chuckled as I writhed against him. "In the kitchen. If you can tear yourself away from me long enough to run down there and throw them in."
I laughed as I wiggled right out of Matt's grip and wrapped myself in a towel. Then I scooped up the wet clothes we'd shed not long ago and brought them downstairs. I found a stacking washer and dryer in the corner of the kitchen and tossed everything in the dryer.
When I turned around Matt was lounging in the kitchen doorway, a towel slung low over his hips, his arms crossed over his broad, bare chest. He waved a piece of paper at me.
"Matt and Flick," he read in an exaggerated stentorian tone that was his imitation of Joe. "We've gone up to Mom and Dad's and are planning on spending the night. There's food in the fridge and wine if you want it. Also massage oil on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet, just don't mix it up with diaper cream—trust us on that one. Have fun, and don't do anything we wouldn't do. Joe and Rhiannon."
Our laughter filled the kitchen.
"Do you think they approve then?" I asked as I opened the fridge and peered inside, suddenly hungry. I hadn't had much to eat all week.
Matt stood at my shoulder to peruse the selection in the fridge. He reached past me to pry off the lid of a plastic bowl. When it was revealed to contain Rhiannon's surprisingly edible potato salad he scooped it up.
"How could they not approve of you?" he teased. His free hand patted my bottom. "You're perfect."
"And you're delusional, but I like it."
I grabbed two bottles of water and closed the fridge. Matt balanced the bowl of potato salad and two forks in one hand and led the way back upstairs. He pushed the wet towels off the bed onto the floor and then sat cross-legged with the bowl between his knees.
I scrambled up and sat across from him with our knees touching. He handed me a fork before he dug into the salad.
"Why am I delusional?"
"I'm far from perfect," I pointed out as I speared a few potatoes for myself. "I'm short and scrawny. I never went to college. My hands are a mess," I spread the offending digits out for him to see. My nails were short and never quite clean; there were calluses and rough patches I'd never be able to get rid of. They were working hands, not a lady's hands.
Matt rested his fork in the bowl and then spread out his own hands for me. Apart from the fact that they were considerably larger, longer, and thicker than my own, they looked much the same.
"Do you think I care about that?"
That made me smile.
"I've seen what you can do with your hands Felicity," he added with a broad grin. "You can fix anything. Anything. You're a better mechanic than I am. A better mechanic than your dad, even. Plus, when you run them through my hair," his gaze turned hungry, "they're perfect."
Together we laughed and chatted and put a significant dent in the bowl of potato salad. It was like being with the old Matt, the casual, relaxed, funny one. Only it wasn't - because he was sitting across from me bare-chested and his smile was... mischievous -- sexy and flirtatious and all for me. When the buzzer went off announcing the end of the dryer cycle, we both pouted in unison.
"I don't want to go back to reality. Do we have to?"
Matt reached over and caressed my bare knee. Beneath the towel his hand danced up my thigh to rest on my hip.
"Your dad will be wondering where you are," Matt reminded me.
"I can call him," I said weakly. In the past I wouldn't have cared if I didn't go home at night, but I knew Dad was still struggling with getting sober. He insisted on doing it cold turkey and even though I rid the house of booze, there was always the fear that he'd find a way to get some if he wanted it badly enough. I folded my arms then swayed while I considered the options . . . then considered them again.
"I have an idea. . ." Matt glanced over at the small alarm clock beside the bed. "It's only a little after six. Why don't we go to your house for a while and hang out with your dad? Then maybe later tonight we can go back to my place."
How did Matt figure that Dad needed me to look after him? I hadn't said anything about Dad's struggle to sober up, just as I'd never said anything about his drinking problem in the first place. Matt saw way more than I gave him credit for.