Page 136 of Lovers' Dance

“Bloody hell, poppet,” Matt exclaimed, shutting the door. “You look fabulous.”

I grinned at his reflection in the mirror.

“It’s not too much?” I asked, unsure whether it was suitable for wherever we were going.

Matt walked over to where I stood. “No, it’s perfect, and I think I just came in my pants.”

“Shut up, you crazy man.” I laughed, smoothing my hands over my butt to check how bad the panty lines were. Barely noticeable—the dress was staying on. “Where are we going tonight, Matt? I need to sort my hair out.”

Matt immediately sank his fingers into my damp curls, a soft expression settling on his face as he rubbed my hair between his fingertips. He was fascinated with the texture. Many a times I had woken up to find him playing with it, trying to hid the look of guilty delight in his eyes whenever I told him to stop messing about with my hair. He didn’t understand the deal with us black women and our hair. Constantly curling it around his fingers led to split ends that I didn’t want.

“You didn’t kiss me hello, poppet,” he murmured quietly but with an expectant look on his striking features.

“Because you were being bossy and didn’t give me a chance to,” I retorted before sticking my tongue out at him. How could I consider giving him up? Should I confide what Grumps had said? Would he be upset or would he brush it off? Grumps was the patriarch of Matt’s family. Would he care how his grandfather had made me feel in the back of his fancy car? Or would he be furious and cause a major drama in their ranks? I didn’t want Matt fighting with his family. That was the last thing I wanted. Best to keep my big mouth shut. I would figure something out. I needed time…and a bit of distance.

There would be no distance tonight, though.

“It’s been days since we last saw each other,” he griped.

“We’ve both been busy,” I said, jerking my head away so he’d stop twirling my hair. “And I don’t kiss on the first date. Or is this technically our second date?” I waved my musing away and hurried to the dresser to grab a comb and start sorting out my hair.

Matt followed me, hand reaching up to snag a curl that he promptly began to twirl around his finger.

“If I recall correctly, I said no sex from now on,” he informed me. “We can snog all we want.”

I tapped his hand with the comb and he dropped the curl. “You left Nathan and Bella alone downstairs, Matt. Crap. I forgot about the clothes hamper in the kitchen. Can you bring it up, hon? And make sure you hide my underwear.”

Matt gave me a look. An exasperated look. Then he asked arrogantly, “Have I not loaded your dishwasher for you? Are you asking me to do chores? I have staff to do these things for me, Madi. If you need help around your house, I can employ someone to do so.”

It was moments like these I remembered exactly who I was talking with. A normal person would think nothing of going downstairs to get a hamper full of clothes and bring it back upstairs. A normal person might offer to fold and put away the clothes of their main squeeze.

Matt wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t his fault. He came from a privileged background of house staff and chefs to do his bidding. It wasn’t his fault, but it was ridiculous as hell he’d gotten insulted over my little request.

“Forget it, Matt,” I said, tugging through a knot, probably from him messing about with the strands. “Sorry for asking. Why don’t you go keep your friends company? I’ll try not to be too long.”

I gave him a tight smile, then turned away so he wouldn’t see my expression. Matt stood there for a moment as I focused on combing my hair. Without a word, he exited the bedroom leaving my damned door ajar. Five minutes later, he re-entered holding my full hamper of clothes. Not one peek of a panty on the top. He went over to the wardrobe and set it down carefully. I watched it with wide eyes.

“Happy?” he asked, still a bit peeved.

I tried not to grin, tried to keep my face blank, but he was so cute with that mad look on his face.

“Um, thanks.”

His grey eyes narrowed slightly at the way I kept trying to fight my smile. You would think I’d asked him to clean the whole house with nothing more than a toothbrush.

“Humph.” He snorted, then closed the distance between us. “Can I have my kiss now? You’ve worked me almost to death tonight.”

I giggled at his silly behaviour and went on tippy toes to offer up his reward for bringing the hamper. Matt kissed me hungrily, hands slipping over my ass as he pulled me up tight against his body. His tongue was insistent in my mouth, so much so I was going lightheaded from the lack of air. Or it could simply be due to the fact he was an expert kisser? When he finally stopped dining on my lips and stepped back, his gaze dropped to my boobs. My hardened nipples were prominent against the fabric. Maybe I had boob tape somewhere about. That would deal with my misbehaving flesh.

Matt ran a finger lightly over one nipple and I shuddered, responding immediately to his touch. “This is going to be hard, poppet.” he murmured.

I couldn’t stop the glance to his lower anatomy. Something else was hard, for sure. Matt saw where my eyes had rested, and he chuckled under his breath.

“But I promised myself to resist your charms until we’ve dated for at least a month.”

“Say what?” I dropped the comb, arms folding. “A month?”

“At least a month,” Matt confirmed with a nod. “Your hair looks fine, let’s go. Get your shoes.”

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