Page 45 of Rocky Mountain Desire
He bit lightly and rocked his hips, and she shuddered. “Oh yeah.”
His lips were warm against her skin, his voice deep and low as he whispered. “I’m thinking we need—”
The door swung open behind them, the glow from the living room hitting them like a spotlight.
“Oh dear.” Gramma Martin, no relation but one of the local matriarchs whom Hope had known for all her life, jerked to a stop.
“Evening, Mrs. Martin. Sorry…” Matt stepped back slightly, holding Hope as she twisted her way to a less provocative position then off the countertop.
Gramma Martin waved off his excuses. “You never mind apologizing, only I need that young lady of yours for a minute. My twos and threes are getting mixed up on the pattern.”
“Right, sorry for abandoning you. I was just…” There was nothing Hope could say. She was as tongue-tied as Matt.
The older lady smiled. “I understand.”
Matt squeezed Hope’s hand. “I’ll talk to you in a bit. Sorry for disrupting your class.”
Hope hurried back into the main room, cheeks flushed with embarrassment that she’d completely lost her head with Matt right next door to a room full of customers.
Everyone was still busy at their machines, although the chatter in the room was suspiciously lacking. Hope checked Gramma Martin’s work and explained the problem.
“Wonderful. I knew I was getting myself turned around somehow.”
“You’re doing very well.” Hope checked the next quilter and conversation slowly resumed. Still, from all the half-hidden smiles, she figured the fact she’d been lip-locked with Matt Coleman was no secret. She glanced at Marion, but Matt’s mom only gave her a full-out smile and nod.
Nothing wrong there. Nothing but a lingering uneasiness—like someone was talking about her behind her back.
Hope mentally shrugged it off and concentrated on doing the best job possible in spite of the sexual distraction simmering through her veins.
Tonight? She was going to give Matt a rain check on doing anything after the class was over. But tomorrow?
All she knew for sure was that waiting any longer was beginning to seem like a real bad idea.
Matt shoved the gas nozzle into place and turned to lean on his truck as the tank filled. He wondered how pathetic it would look if he casually dropped in at the quilt shop. Again.
Poor Hope had to be either getting sick of his face or be nearly at the breaking point. He was willing to stop the no-sex rule any time now—he considered coordinating his arrival with her closing the shop down. That way he could work on convincing her that testing her bed’s mattress springs was of vital importance to both their safety.
Or forget the mattress, her couch had awesome support. Or the floor. Or the fucking wall—he wasn’t going to be picky. Three days ago, if they hadn’t been interrupted, he would have had her in his parents’ kitchen.
In spite of the icy wind blasting past, his cock reacted with interest. His need to get her into bed had grown beyond stupid. He’d been waking up hard, stroking himself off while still half-asleep. Spending time with her was fun, but they weren’t children. The attraction between them was real.
And the whole waiting until she said it was time for them to move this into something physical? He had no idea why it had ever seemed like a good idea. In fact—
A horn blared from not four feet away and he jerked from his musings. Clay Thompson’s monster truck swung past, the ass grinning as he hopped out, shoved a credit card in the gas pump and began filling his oversized four-by-four.
Matt turned his back. There was no need to give the bastard any attention.
“Hey, Coleman.”
Ah, fuck.Matt glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“You Six Pack boys are bigger wimps than I thought.”
Jesus. “You think you got something worthwhile saying, then say it.”
Clay raised his brows and whistled, checking out the gas register as this time he turned his back to deliberately ignore Matt.
Matt knew he should drop it. There was no reason to get into anything with Clay. Call it male pride. Or stubborn, foolish curiosity. He managed to wait all of twenty seconds before responding. “You swinging your jaw for a reason?”
