39. Ciaran

39

CIARAN

" I claim temporary insanity," I said into Matty's neck once I caught my breath.

"Ciaran, I am not going to lie." Matty smiled at me as he smoothed down my hair. "It was absolutely the most difficult thing I've ever had to do in my life."

I let out a shaky laugh.

Climbing out of his embrace, I settled next to him, curling in like a cat. I still wanted physical contact, but Matty was right. I would regret where our actions would lead to. I flung an arm across his chest and I snuggled in close. His arm pulled me in and a sense of comfort settled into my bones.

I'd been two seconds away from sliding down his body and exploring him with my hands and mouth. It wasn't fear that kept me from wanting to go all the way. I wanted to go all the way. But I knew that deep down I wasn't emotionally ready for oral or penetrative sex.

Drew was a big reason why. Not because I was hung up on him. Okay, I was kind of hung up on him, but it was more a confusional hang-up, as if I needed to understand Drew's motives before I could move on, before I could get closure. Once I'd gained that, I could explore an actual sexual relationship with Matty. Shame filled my chest at the thought of trying to explain all of that to Matty.

I'd half expected Matty to bring up his name when I confronted him about his relationship with Joan and Filipe. Granted, last week Matty saw the bland messages Drew sent back to me. Probably he wasn't worried about anything.

Lying next to Matty, it took several long moments before my heart rate returned to something of a normal rate, and it took even longer for my flagpole of an erection to simmer down.

"Is this okay?" he asked, indicating our position. He sounded calm, rested.

"It's perfect," I murmured as he kissed the top of my head.

Matty hooked the duvet with his foot to hoist it up the bed. From there, he fluffed it enough so that it covered us from the waist down. I stole a glance at his crotch before the blanket settled.

His boxers were no longer tented. It was a relief to know he wasn't in sexual agony. Still, a thrill went through me thinking about Matthias Vaulteneau being hot and bothered for me .

Matty's jaw cracked with a yawn, which was contagious.

He mumbled a goodnight, and I slurred a goodnight, and then next thing I knew, early morning sunlight was pouring into the bedroom.

It was obvious we both fell asleep almost immediately last night. I'd always been a sound sleeper, but I'd never fallen asleep in someone's arms before.

We weren't snuggling like the way we fell asleep. No, Matty's leg was flung across mine, pinning me down, and his arm was jammed into the side of my ass.

I shifted so I could see his face. His eyes were closed tight and his mouth was slightly ajar.

Matty was a snorer, but not an obnoxious one.

In the quiet of the morning, the house was silent and I took my time studying his profile.

Matty was the embodiment of Byronic poetry. His dark hair was a messy crown above smooth, tan skin that begged to be touched. It was shocking he didn't have more freckles. His eyebrows were thick and full of expression when he spoke, laughed, or frowned. My fingertip itched to trace his perfect Grecian nose and his full, sensual lips. Matty's scruffy jaw was masculine, too. He even had a cleft chin, like Superman.

My first impression was still accurate: Matthias Vaulteneau was so good-looking, he could be a model.

I knew that once he opened his eyes, those warm brown orbs would focus on me and come alive. He'd probably say something funny or sarcastic. If I thought back to the beginning, his eyes were always following me the same way mine followed him. We weren't fooling anyone except each other and ourselves.

Had our parents suspected? Probably not, I thought, since they left only hours after our meeting. Mom and Stefon would be back in a few days.

A knot of worry threaded through my mind. How would they react? I felt certain Mom would accept everything. And if Matty's behavior toward me gave any indication, maybe Stefon wouldn't give a shit. Matty didn't seem worried. Or, if he was, he didn't voice it out loud.

Why invite worry ahead of time?

Shifting again, I escaped from Matty's deadweight leg. Propping on an elbow, I started making lazy circles in his chest hair. Nonsensical mumbles escaped his lips as he slept on.

Hmm. Time for a firmer touch.

I kissed his chin, then his nose, and finally I placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

His eyes flew open. His immediate grin did something dangerous to my heart.

Matty's hands snaked up around me. He rolled us over, pinning me beneath him. "Well, this is a delicious way to wake up." His voice was rumbly as he nuzzled my neck, his scruff scratching my skin. "Good morning, Ciaran."

He dipped to kiss my collarbone before making his way to my ear, my jaw, and then my lips. It was a soft, unhurried kiss and it curled my toes. His morning half-erection was thick against my inner thigh, but he made no effort to rock into me or thrust his hips.

"Good morning," I replied in between kisses. I spotted several telltale dark red spots on his neck. I wondered if I was just as marked.

I heard rustling come from the guesthouse's front door.

"That will be Franky," Matty said casually. "She won't come upstairs. She goes straight to the kitchen to get things in order."

I smiled. "So what are you saying?"

With a husky voice, he answered, "I'm saying I want to keep kissing you." His mouth was soft against mine and things were beginning to heat back up between us. "And then I want to feed you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm hmm." He kissed my neck as one hand skimmed down my side, to my hip, then to my outer thigh. Hot need coursed through my veins. He pulled my leg up, then my other leg, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring him into me. He gave me a groan of approval. "And then I am going to put you in a wetsuit."

"Not the direction I thought you were going, but I'm intrigued."

Matty gave me a lopsided grin. He licked my neck where it met my shoulder. When he started kissing my other shoulder, he said, "And then I am going to put you on a surfboard and teach you how to surf so you don't smack your forehead ever again."

I laughed at that, remembering my first attempt at surfing. Matty hadn't witnessed the surfboard hitting me in the head, but my forehead had boasted a knot for several days.

"No lie," I said, "none of that should have turned me on, but it did."

Without warning, there was a tap at the bedroom door before it was thrust open.

"Oh—" The voice abruptly cut off. Matty and I both jerked our heads to face the door.

"Miss Paulina," Matty said with some surprise. He climbed out of my embrace with embarrassing quickness. "Why didn't you wait for us to say something?"

I observed the older housekeeper. It was my first time seeing her. Wearing a starched skirt and matching gray top, Miss Paulina was a plump woman in her sixties. Her thick black and silver hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She reminded me of a strict Sunday school teacher.

Her expression quickly morphed into one of practiced disinterestedness, but she wasn't quick enough to hide the shock in her eyes when she saw the two of us tangled together in bed.

A sense of foreboding sank like a rock in my stomach.

I shouldn't let it bother me. People were going to find out about us at some point, but the look on her face made me uneasy. As soon as she closed the door, would she send a text to my mom and Stefon?

"I am so sorry for intruding," Miss Paulina said in a neutral tone that gave nothing away about how she felt about the situation. It was then that I noticed the large white envelope in her hand. "I thought you were outside cleaning and that the bedroom was empty. An important delivery for Mr. Galbraith just arrived by special courier." She placed it on the dresser near the door. "Good day, gentlemen."

With that she gently closed the door.

"Don't freak out, okay?" Matty said, as if reading my mind. He blew out a breath as he faced me. "She'll keep our secret, Ciaran. She's worked here long enough to have seen everything under the sun. Discretion is a valuable commodity in her line of work."

"Then why did she look so surprised?" I asked, not convinced.

"My guess is she thought we hated each other. Everyone thinks that, so finding us like this would surprise almost everyone. Franky might have reacted the same way." Some of the foreboding began to ebb away. Matty continued, "One day I will tell you about the wild orgies my dad used to host. I say that because it was Miss Paulina and her staff who cleaned up afterwards. And don't get me started on Dante and his best friend at time. He and Andy were the biggest playboys in college. There's no telling what Miss Paulina witnessed most weekends."

I nearly choked on my tongue after hearing all that.

Before I could sputter a reply, Matty continued. "Anyway, Dad won't do anything like that now that he's remarried. He went through a weird phase a few years ago. And Dante's living in Singapore, though I think he's dating a soccer player. I'm not sure, to be honest. My brother is private about that kind of stuff these days."

It was information overload but my main takeaway was that Miss Paulina wasn't a tattler.

"Did you partake in said orgies?" I pulled him back on top of me and we collapsed back down onto the bed.

Matty's eyes twinkled. "No. I was too young, but," he added as his eyebrows rose, "I was fully aware of them."

"So we both grew up around naked women?" I asked rhetorically. "Me backstage at my mom's showgirl performances and you at home watching orgies. What a pair we make."

"Fate meant for us to meet." Matty's grin melted away the last of my worries.

Before I could get sappy about that statement, the aroma of fresh-ground coffee hit us then.

"Franky," we both said at the same time.

My stomach seemed to realize it too, because it grumbled, demanding food. I'd already grown accustomed to having someone make all my food for me. It didn't seem to have taken me long to forget the feeling of scrounging and living day-to-day.

"Last person to get dressed and sprint downstairs has to clean the pool," Matty said as he jumped out of bed.

"Cheater," I hollered as he threw the blanket on me, stymying my progress.

I heard his flurry of progress next door. I didn't rush.

I couldn't contain my smile when I finally joined Matty downstairs moments later.

Franky beamed at me from behind the kitchen counter. "Morning, Ciaran," she said in her normal, cheery voice.

One of Franky's green sludge drinks was in Matty's hand. Sitting at one of the high stool seats at the counter, I took in Matty's expression as he observed the chunky offering. It was one of forced resignation.

"Morning," I returned as I took the seat next to Matty. He elbowed me playfully.

Franky's eyes narrowed as she looked between us but didn't say anything as she slid over another large cup with the same sludge drink. It was seaweed-green in color and its sharp scent of anchovies made my stomach lurch. I gave the coffeepot a look of forlorn longing.

"Thanks," I murmured as my hands cupped the cold cylinder. "You shouldn't have."

She laughed. "You both look like you didn't get much sleep last night," Franky said by way of explaining the recovery shakes. "The yard is an absolute mess. Must have been a banger of a party. What time did it end?"

"Who said it was over?" Matty asked innocently.

"Someone's in a good mood," Franky commented, before diving back into the refrigerator to retrieve eggs and butter.

"You have no idea," I said quietly.

Matty and I shared a look and burst out laughing.

It was going to be a great day.