He shrugged before walking over to the fully stocked drinks cabinet. “I did warn her I wasn’t in the mood for a big do, it’s not my fault she refused to listen. Another drink for you?”
“Please.” Louisa confirmed.
Matt went about fixing their drinks, glancing at the blonde beauty ever so often. “So,” he prompted when he handed her a fresh glass. “I assume there is some particular reason for your visit.”
“Does there have to be?” Louisa shot back coyly.
He sipped his drink and gave her a nonchalant shrug. “There’s always a purpose when it concerns you, Louisa.”
She waved a dismissive hand through the air before wandering over to the large windows. “I simply wanted to see you. Is that wrong of me? To be concerned over your welfare? We were such close friends, darling.”
Matt chuckled. “Friends? Is that what you call it?”
Louisa spun around, her vibrant red lips tightened. “Are you going to be difficult, Matt?”
Again he chuckled. “No, Louisa. Not difficult, merely curious as to why you’re here. The last time you visited me unannounced you were the bearer of quite distasteful news. Forgive me for being,” Matt paused as his mouth curled up derisively. “Somewhat wary of what you might have to say.”
She tossed her drink back and sauntered over to him. The light material of her striped summer’s dress was clinging attractively to her form. Matt observed her closely as she approached and held out her glass.
“Another?” he asked dryly.
“Please,” she murmured.
“Should you really? Considering you will be driving home.” Matt took the now empty glass from her. “And you won’t want to risk getting a ticket, now will you?”
“Will I?” Louisa asked while stepping into his personal space and resting a hand on his chest.
“Will you what?”
She leaned into him, then pressed her mouth over his, tongue darting out to trace his lips. For a few seconds Matt remained unresponsive, before he moved his mouth against hers. Louisa moaned softly as they kissed, both her hands were now travelling the contours of his t-shirt clad chest. It was pleasant, and suddenly familiar. Another form of distraction from his dark thoughts, but frustratingly unsatisfying. Matt deepened the kiss as his mind automatically began drawing comparisons. Her lips weren’t as plump-
“Mmm,” Louisa broke the connection of their lips to press soft kisses across his jawline. “Will I be driving home?” Her voice was laced with lust as her hands travelled lower, coming to a stop at the waistband of his jeans.
Matt cleared his throat and stepped back. “Yes, you will.”
Louisa’s eyes widened, shocked at his reply. “But-”
“Louisa,” Matt chided gently while going over to place the glasses on the cabinet’s surface. “I am still a married man.” His features hardened. “And contrary to the behaviour of my licentious spouse, I don’t intend on practising infidelity while constrained by the bonds of marriage.”
She pouted and folded her arms as she shook her head in disbelief. “Why on earth are you showing her loyalty when she didn’t have the decency to return that favour?”
Matt shrugged, unable to figure it out himself. Why hadn’t he already drowned his sorrows and sexual frustration in the arms of another woman? Finding a willing bed-mate wouldn’t be hard. He cast a speculative gaze over Louisa. She was the perfect example. Offering certain physical satisfaction from the hungry urges of his male needs. Why wasn’t he right now taking her upstairs where he could shag his frustrations away? At least for a few hours. Why wasn’t he already buried to the hilt inside this woman who so blatantly desired him?
“I don’t understand,” Louisa continued, both exasperated and unhappy. “How can you turn me down?She cheated on you.Why can’t we resume our previous relationship?”
Matt stared at her. She really was quite stunning. Her wordsreplayed themselves in his head. Louisa, noting his intense gaze, smiled at him as she closed the distance between them.
“Tell me, Matt. Why are you still loyal to her when she doesn’t deserve it?”
Matt slowly licked his lips as she ran her hands up his arms. Why indeed?
“It’s broken, isn’t it?” Dante asked with agitation. He was starting to sweat.
“Hell if I know,” I replied breathlessly. We were in the wings, about to go on for the penultimate act and the second toe of my right footfeltas if it were broken.
“Fuck.” Dante whispered, barely stopping himself from wiping a hand across his face in frustration and messing up his makeup. “You still have your fouettes pirouette in the final act to do, and this act you’re en pointe for most of it. Goddamnit!”