“Go take your make-up off, sweetheart,” Matt said, as they entered the room.
Izabel looked up at him in surprise. “But I thought we were…”
He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “We are. But when we are done, I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. I’ll be right here, so don’t let thoughts carry you away in there. It took a decade to get here, and I’ve had twenty-hours hours of you in my arms. Waiting a few minutes more won’t change my mind.”
He saw her shoulders relax. “Okay, I won’t be long.”
Matt turned on the bedside light and killed all the others so the room was lit in a warm glow. He also used the time to take a few deep breaths. Mixed emotions roiled through him. The thought of Harry with his hands on Izabel made him sick. While he’d never show it, Harry’s words had cut deep.
He’d not wanted to think of Jase and Izabel tonight. This was his and Izabel’s day, and he needed a moment to cleanse the thoughts of her with anybody else from his mind.
It wasn’t the fact she had a past that bothered him, hell, he had a long one too. It was who she’d been with. He needed to clear the ghosts of them out of the room. With a tug, he pulled the curtains wide to the night sky and opened the window.
He thought back to the day they’d met. To the day Luke had taken him home to the two-bedroomed house on Willaston Close with the bright blue door and the staircase with the big white handrail that ran along one wall of the small living room. He’d been twelve and Izabel nine. And somewhere along the way, she’d changed from Luke’s annoying younger sister to Luke’s beautiful and compassionate little sister, to Iz.
Iz, who only had to smile at him to set his heart on fire.
Iz, who asked smart questions and reminded him of what he’d achieved when he could only see what he hadn’t.
Iz who was currently taking off her make-up so he could take her to bed.
Iz who made him feel like he was more than enough rather than the guy who hadn’t quite made it.
When the door to the bathroom opened and Izabel stepped out wearing nothing but lacy underwear the same shade as her dress and a smile, his dick stood to full attention and ached. “Hey,” she said.
He walked toward her. “You’re perfect.” He slid his hands into her hair and kissed her. Gently at first, an exploration of her lips, before turning heated. Their tongues duelled.
Izabel gripped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it from his pants before sliding her hands beneath it to stroke his skin.
He could have sworn his dick started leaking at the first touch of her. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted her skin on his. Quickly, he stepped back, opened enough buttons to tug his shirt off over his head, and threw it to the floor. When he pulled Izabel back into his arms, he groaned. “God, you feel good.”
With one flick of the strap, Matt undid her strapless bar and pulled it from between the two of them. Her nipples, a round dusky pink, stood to attention, and he ran his hand along her waist and ribs until he could rub his thumb lazily over one erect peak.
“Matt,” Izabel gasped.
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
He bent slightly and sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and over her nipple. When this night was over, he’d never forget the sounds of pleasure she’d made as he sucked on her. The way the gasp caught in the back of her throat, the way her breath warmed his shoulder.
In one simple motion, he picked her up, and Izabel wrapped her arms and legs around him as he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the cool sheets. Even though his body urged him to strip them of the remainder of their clothes and dive into the heat of Izabel’s body, he stood back and looked at her.
Blonde hair spread messily on the covers. Without the make-up she wore, he could see the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She looked up at him through fair lashes as her tongue ran across those plump lips of hers.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is fucking perfect, Iz.” He reached for her panties and slid them over her hips, inhaling the musky scent of her as he did so.
Christ, he wanted to fuck her so badly he could practically taste her. But if this was all they could ever add up to, the sum of this one night, then he intended to squeeze everything out of their time together. He wanted to kiss her, lick her, suck her, and fuck her. He wanted to make love to her, and dance naked. Shower with her. He wanted to take her slowly on the bed and fuck her standing up against the wall. He needed to create a lifetime of memories he could take out and look at for the rest of his life.
Matt removed the rest of his clothes, knowing the next time he touched Iz, they’d both be naked. “Do you have any preferences, Iz? Anything you really want us to do?”
Izabel looked down his body, and he hoped she liked what she saw. “Everything, Matt. Do everything.”
Wanting the evening to last, he denied his dick any immediate relief by climbing onto the bed and lying down next to her. He propped himself up on his elbow and trailed his fingers along her skin. Up the length of her arm, along the dip of her clavicle, between her breasts, down her abdomen to her belly button. A trail of goose bumps forming where he touched her soft skin.
“Kiss me, Iz,” he said, tugging her to him.
As if sensing his mood, or perhaps feeling as he did, that this part of the evening didn’t need to be rushed or hurried, she rolled toward him. Matt placed his hand on her back, holding her to him, as she kissed him. Slow, spine-tingling kisses, languorous sweeps of her tongues, gentle bites on his lower lips.
But the whole time, their eyes remained open, focused on each other intently.
He slipped his leg between hers and groaned as it met her damp core. Matt rolled the two of them so Izabel was beneath him and ignored the fact it would take nothing to slide deep inside her. Slowly, he trailed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, grinning as she giggled.
“Tickles,” she gasped, as he lowered his head and kissed the swell of her breast. He dragged his tongue across her nipple. It was firm as he sucked it into his mouth.
Izabel’s body arched beneath him, and he made a note as to just how sensitive her nipples were. Matt repeated the action on her other breast.
He moved down her body, pressing his lips to her ribs, to the warm skin just below her belly button, over the thin strip of hair, until he could open her to him. Pink lips, her clit already aroused, wetness just from his kisses.
As he got comfortable, his shoulders between her thighs, he looked up at Izabel. “Is this okay?”
Izabel bit her lower lip and nodded. “Please, Matt.”
One stroke of his tongue was all it took. One sweep of her essence to know the sweetness of it would stick with him forever. As he got to know every part of her, as he explored her depths, he relished her responses. So genuine and honest. She gasped as he circled and sucked on her clit, she moaned and reached for his hair when he thrust is tongue inside her as far as it could go. Her hips thrust towards his face when he slipped one and then two fingers deep inside her.
“You taste so good, Iz,” he gasped, grinding his dick into the mattress to find some relief from the ache.
“Don’t stop,” Izabel cried, her movements becoming more frantic. She was close, he could feel it as she tightened around his fingers. A faint mottled red flush covered her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open.
Fuck, he was coming to come just watching her get off. He forced himself to think through the names of the 2017-18 Manchester City squad just to take the edge off, but it only lasted a moment, his attention focused on Izabel as she came on his fingers, against his face.
“Matt, yes,” she cried out, her fingers clutching the bedding.
He slowed his pace, easing her down, licking up the evidence of her orgasm before he slid his fingers from within her. Unable to reign in the emotions he felt, he pressed his forehead to her stomach and lay there as she caught her breath. How the hell was he supposed to walk away from her now he knew how she sounded and tasted and moved as she fell apart?
Izabel’s fingers slipped into his hair, gently scratching his scalp with her trimmed nails. It was soothing and needed. He felt like a pot left on boil too long.
“Are you okay, Matt?” Izabel asked softly.
He forced himself to look at her and answer honestly. “That was intense, and I just needed a minute.”
The whisper of her smile told him she understood.
Matt looked as she felt.
Thunderstruck.
As she laid her head on the bed, threading her fingers through Matt’s hair, she caught her literal and figurative breath.
For a moment, she debated whether she should stop the whole thing. Not because she didn’t want him. Not because she didn’t want to know what it would feel like as Matt slid his amply proportioned dick inside her, because she did. But she wondered what it would take to recover from this. To recover from having something so wonderfully special and momentous, only to wake up tomorrow and it all be gone like smoke.
Matt pushed himself up on his arms and reached into the bedside table. He grabbed a box of condoms from the drawer. The fact it was a new box baffled her, pulling her out of the moment.
“You brought a box?”
Matt smiled sheepishly. “Popped down to the Tesco Express while you were having your photographs taken after the service. Seemed like one day like this would need more than the one I had in my wallet.”
Izabel bit back a grin as his words lifted the heaviness she’d felt only moments before. She watched as he opened the box, pulled one out, tore into the packet, and then slid it on his length.
“I like your confidence.”
Matt grinned. “Got to be honest, watching you come…nearly didn’t make it to needing one.” He laid back down on the bed next to her. “Come here.”
He encouraged her to climb across his lap, her sensitive clit pressed up against him. Matt slid his hands along her thighs, along the curve of her arse, and up her back before pulling her down to his chest.
When his lips met hers again, the maelstrom started all over again. His touch electrified her, his fingers played her body as effectively as he played his guitar…confident strokes and varying pressure creating the most wonderful music.
“Ride me, Iz.”
She rose onto her knees as Matt held his dick right at her entrance. Need pulsed through her as she lowered herself slowly onto him, just the thick head at first, then lifting before lowering herself halfway. She sighed at the sensation of being stretched, of being filled so thoroughly.
Matt caressed her thighs, her arse, as he looked up at her from lust-filled eyes. She pulled herself up again and lowered as Matt thrust up to meet her, settling himself deep within her.
“Matt,” she gasped, falling to his chest to kiss him.
“Sweetheart.” His hands pushed her hair back from her face, holding her in place, his lips inches from hers as he looked at her.
Then he began to move. A slow and steady back and forth, pulling so far out of her she thought he might leave her body completely, before sliding thoroughly home. His size ensured she felt every action, every pulse of his dick thoroughly.
She studied his face, the gold flecks in his iris, his slightly crooked incisor, the way he inhaled sharply when she sank low on him. “You feel so thick in me, Matt.”
“It’s you. You’ve got me so turned on I’m riding the edge. Holding out because I want more of this. More of you.”
He shifted his hands to her hips, gripping them firmly as he began to thrust upward, Long, quick strokes ending with him grinding against her clit in a move that threatened to tear apart her self-control.
“Ah, fuck, Izabel,” Matt gasped before holding her tightly and flipping them so he was on top. Taking his weight in his forearms, he began to pound into her. “You’re soaked. It feels so wet and warm. It’s a fucking dream.”
Matt gripped her arse, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he thrust back and forth in perfect rhythm.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her head to fall back. Matt peppered kissed along her jaw, down her neck, until his head was buried again her.
“I can’t describe how good it feels to be this deep inside you, Iz. There should be words.”
Izabel pulled her knees up to his hips, wrapped one arm tightly around his back, the other through his hair. “Somethings can’t be explained,” she gasped.
A second orgasm, one she hadn’t expected, began to build deep in her core. A tightening, a desperation, the start of a sensation she knew would build.
“Matt,” she whispered. “You’re going to make me come again.”
“Yeah, babe. Do it. Do it for me,” he encouraged.
“Don’t change what you’re doing.”
Matt groaned against her neck. “I’m really close, too. But it’s so fucking good I don’t want it to end.”
End.
For a moment she couldn’t decide if he meant the sex or the two of them. Either way, she knew how he felt.
With his dick pulsing between her legs and the promise of an orgasm coursing through her, she wanted to stay right there on the edge with him for as long as she could.
And she wanted to stay in his arms even longer.
The thought of them together collided with the way Matt was currently playing her body. “Oh, God. Matt,” she cried, as her body went taught. The surge of energy exploded within her, a kaleidoscope of light flashing behind her eyes.
Matt thrust once, twice, so deep she could feel it as he released deep inside her. “Izabel.”
She could feel the gasps of breath against the skin on the side of her neck. Then felt his lips place a single kiss behind her ear.
Her heart raced in her chest, faster than the beat of any song Matt had ever written. They’d just made love. And it had been everything she’d hoped and imagined it would be. She stroked her fingers over his back, feeling his damp skin, feeling the way he flinched when she ran them over a ticklish spot. Who knew rockstar Matt Palmer was ticklish?
She did it again.
“Iz,” he warned in a growl, and she grinned.
He lifted his head and looked at her. “Think that’s funny, do you?”
Izabel bit back a laugh and shook her head. “Not at all.”
Matt grinned, and then lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss she felt all the way to her toes. The kiss shook her already fried nerves awake. It told her he’d enjoyed every minute of what they’d just done, but he wasn’t finished with her yet.
And she was so ready for more.
When he pulled back, the humour was gone from his eyes. “That was intense. In a really fucking good can’t wait to do it again kind of way.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.
Izabel smiled to hide the pain of his words. She knew he only meant tonight. She couldn’t wait to do it forever, but he hadn’t thought past the next twenty-four hours.
But if tonight was all she had, she’d build enough memories to take forward with her. The kind of memories she could take out and revisit when she thought of him.
“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” she said, shaking off her thoughts.
“I didn’t either. I think it’s you. You have a magical touch.”
Matt reached between them and withdrew from her before disappearing to deal with the condom. When he laid back down on the bed, he tugged her into his arms, pulling her close, holding her tight.
She felt safe, secure, even loved in his arms. Izabel buried her face against his chest.
“It was more than imagined,” Matt said softly, his fingers teasing the ends of her hair.
“Same,” she murmured in agreement.
She ran her fingers over his tattoos. Three worker bees over his heart. Bees being the symbol of Manchester. Three of them to represent the three rivers that ran through the city. The Irk, the Irwell and the Medlock. An ornate clipper ship wrapped around his ribs, a tribute to his beloved Man City Football Club and the canals on which the northwest was built.
Izabel memorised the rise and fall of his abs, the gentle curve of his pecs.
Panic flooded her. Time was running out. “It’s not fair that this is all we get.”
Matt placed a finger beneath her chin and kissed her slowly. “No, it’s not. But I don’t want to waste a minute of it with you.”
He tugged Izabel so she lay over him, his firm body beneath hers, his arms caging her as his palms ran up and down her back. She could feel him growing hard beneath her again, and desire for him pooled between her legs.
“I fucking love your eyes,” he said, cupping her cheeks.
When he studied her like this, she could have sworn she saw their forever in his. “Kiss me, Matt.”
He did as she asked. He kissed her as though this was forever. And when he slid into her again, when he took her like she was the most precious thing in his world, when they came together as if they’d been making love with each other their whole lives, her heart broke that when the morning came, the fantasy of it would be over.
The sunshine beaming in through the windows finally roused Matt from the sleep of the dead. He blinked slowly, cracking one eye open, then the other. It was too bright, too much.
Slowly his senses fired to life. The scent of Izabel’s shampoo teased his nose, his hand cupped her breast, soft in his hand. He could hear the quiet sound of her breathing. He opened his eyes fully to take her in. The covers sat on their waists, and he could see the gentle curve of her hip before it dipped beneath the white sheet.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, tasting the salt on her skin after a night spent making love.
When they’d finally gone to sleep sometime around four in the morning, it was after making love three times. And it had been more than he’d ever imagined. The final time had been with the hunger of needing more mingled with the desperation that the hands on the clock were counting down.
As if sensing him awake, Izabel turned in his arms. “Hey.”
“Have I told you how much I love your eyes?”
Izabel smiled sleepily. “I think you mentioned it last night.” She snuggled closer to him, nuzzling his neck.
“Yeah, well. There was a lot to be grateful for last night.” He dragged his fingertips slowly along her spine.
“Mmm,” Iz muttered softly.
“Can I ask you a question, Iz?”
“Sure.” She placed her head on his shoulder and looked up at him.
“What you said about the band? About our music yesterday? About me? Truthfully, did you mean it or where you just blowing smoke up my arse?”
Izabel ran her hand across the smattering of hair on his chest. “I meant every single word.”
Matt sighed and looked at the ceiling. “I feel like my faith in it all is wavering.”
Lifting on one elbow, Izabel gripped his chin. “I have enough faith for both of us. It’s going to happen, Matt. Perhaps not how you expected, or as quickly as you hoped. But it will happen. You’re putting in the work. How can it not?”
Buoyed by her faith in him, Matt wrapped his arms tightly around her and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
Blanketed in a peaceful haze, he savoured the way her body lined up against his.
Three loud knocks on the door made Izabel jump in his arms. “Housekeeping.”
“Shit.” Matt reached for his phone. Eleven thirty. “One second,” he shouted. He leapt out of bed, tugged on a pair of jeans, and pulled the door slightly open. “Sorry, can we get an extended check-out or something?”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but we have an event this evening so there are no late check-outs available. But I can come back in thirty minutes.”
Matt’s heart sank. “That would be great, thanks.”
By the time he closed the door, Izabel was sitting on the edge of the bed, the covers pulled up against her chest. “We need to be at lunch in thirty minutes, too.”
He sat down next to her and put his arm around her.
“The fairy-tale is over, right, Matt?”
Matt nodded and pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. “Yeah, sweetheart. I guess it is.”
Izabel nodded her head once, firmly. “Okay,” she said resolutely before standing. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
For a moment, he wondered if she felt as affected by what had happened between the two of them, but he caught sight of her reflection in the mirror as she walked away, and he saw sadness etched in her features.
Fuck.
How could he do this? Where would he find the strength to simply drop her off at Luke’s and not look back? How would he deal with seeing her in their building? He placed his face in his hands and breathed deeply.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
Matt stood and reached for his bag. He pulled out a clean outfit and just as he finished packing everything else away, the door to the bathroom opened. Steam preceded Izabel as she appeared with a towel tugged around her body, her hair wrapped up in a towel on her head.
He should have followed her in there. They could have made love in the shower.
He shook his head and walked to the bathroom, taking in the uncertain look in Izabel’s face. Unable to resist, he stroked her cheek. “Still beautiful, Iz,” he whispered softly as he headed for the shower.
The plentiful hot water did little to ease his melancholy mood. The room smelled of her, of her shampoo, of the body lotion she wore that made her skin so fucking soft he could still feel it beneath his fingers. He ignored his dick and focused on the practicalities of the next four hours. Lunch with Gemma and her family. Putting on a smile and an act for Harry for two hours followed by another two hours in the car, just the two of them.
When he’d dried off, he tucked the towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom where Izabel was stuffing her clothes into her case, the complete opposite to the way she’d lovingly unpacked everything the night they’d arrived.
She wore a pretty sundress in red with white polka-dots. Her wet hair had been braided and she wore no make-up beyond a slick of red lip gloss.
“I texted Gemma and told her I was too hungover for lunch. I can’t pretend in front of Harry today. And pretending will just prolong the agony. Can we just go home, Matt?”
Matt tugged her to him. “I didn’t mean for all this to make you sad, and I’m not sorry it happened. But I am sorry the way you feel right now means you don’t want to see Gemma and Ollie.”
Izabel swiped beneath her eye, furiously. “Goddamn tears. Shit.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. I just…you were clear. Lots of reasons you and I can’t do this. But now I know what it could be like, not having it hurts all the more.”
“I told you I was a selfish prick.”
“No, Matt. You weren’t. You aren’t. And that’s the problem. I forced you to listen to me, about Jase. It already hurts. So, please. Take me home.”
He hugged her one last time, felt her sigh in his arms, then let her go.
That was it.
That was the last time he’d feel her body against his or feel her breath on his chest.
Death surely wouldn’t feel worse than he did right now. He prayed they didn’t see anyone on the way out of the hotel, because his emotions simmered way too close to the surface.
He settled the bill over the phone, then carried all their bags out to his car. Thankfully, everyone must have been tied up at lunch.
The ride home was quiet beyond the playlist he’d put on to break the silence. For perhaps the first time in history, the M6 was clear, allowing him to open his car up the motorway. He probably broke several speeding laws but at this point he didn’t care.
Izabel closed her eyes, but he had a strong suspicion she was faking being asleep. Her eyes would twitch, and occasionally she’d tap her foot to a song. He sang along just to stop himself from looking over at her.
The band had a five-gig mini tour down south the following week. It had been organised by an events co-ordinator he’d been introduced to, each venue holding anywhere up to a thousand people. They weren’t all sold out, but it would be a decent earner. They’d likely make about ten grand after their costs, making it their most successful mini tour yet.
But more importantly, he was sharing a room with Luke.
A plan began to formulate in his mind. A plan where maybe he floated the idea of him and Izabel. Maybe the last night of the tour, after they’d played, because he didn’t want to jeopardise their earnings in the event Luke lost his shit. The last thing they needed was to piss off the new event planner. The gigs he’d gotten them was solid and was already talking about similar five-day events in Scotland and the Midlands. Nice earners.
Shit. But then he’d still have to deal with Jase who was bound to have an opinion about them.
In the event it caused a split in the band, it would take forever to get a new band started from the ground up or recreate himself as a solo artist which he wasn’t even sure he wanted.
He wanted to lose Izabel even less.
No, he needed some distance from it to figure out what was best.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he pulled into the parking lot, discretely squeezing her knee. “Iz, sweetheart. You need to wake up and perk up. Your brother is out here washing his van.”
Izabel sat up in the chair and smoothed her hair down. Her smile was weak, but better than the forlorn look of earlier.
Matt parked up next to Luke and killed the engine before stepping out of the car. “Good weekend?” he asked as he heard Izabel’s door shut.
Luke studied the two of them. “Yeah. Good reminder of why I’d never want to live down south. You need a second mortgage to buy a round of drinks. How was the wedding?”
“Good,” Iz said. “Gemma looked lovely. I can show you pictures later.”
Luke huffed. “I’ll take your word for it. Everything okay with Harry?”
“Think it helped I was there, right, Iz?”
Izabel nodded mutely.
“Party went on forever. Barely had any kip before housekeeping was turfing us all out,” Matt said quickly to smooth over the awkwardness. “Let me get your bags out.” He hurried around the back of the car and lifted her cases to the ground.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Izabel said, mustering some cheeriness to her voice.
But her eyes.
Man, they called to him. He wanted to press his palms to her cheeks and kiss her and reassure her everything would be fine.
But he couldn’t convince himself, let alone her.
“You’re welcome. It was fun. Especially Glenn and the gang.”
Izabel did laugh at that. “Only you would enjoy sitting at a table of older ladies.”
“Got stuck with Gemma’s grandma’s church ladies.” He glanced over at Luke. “They seemed to think Izabel should have ironed my shirt.”
Luke’s tense stance loosened. “Had to throw out my ironing board cover because Iz managed to burn it. Wouldn’t trust her with a shirt.”
“Right. Well. I hate you both and am going inside.” Izabel tugged her case towards the apartment entrance. “Thanks again for taking me.”
He wished he could have helped her through the door, carried it upstairs for her. But Luke would have noticed. Instead, he pulled his own bags out and locked up the car. “Fucking knackered,” he said.
“It’s going to take me another hour to finish with the van and shower. I wondered if you wanted to start thinking about songs for the next album. Figured I could come up later if you were free.”
Internally, Matt groaned. He needed some space between the two Brysons. Enough time to settle his feelings for Izabel before Luke was in his space. But it would look weird. Matt always said yes when it came to music. “Sure. Maybe give me two hours. Need some shuteye after that drive on limited sleep and a shower.”
“Sounds good,” Luke said, dipping the sponge back into the soapy water.
It didn’t.
But somehow he’d use what little time he had to bury his feelings for Izabel.