Don't Look Back (19 page)

“Yes,” I reply, “a very long way. Did you know that was my first time?” Does Matthew know I gave him my virginity that night? It was never something we spoke about, and he didn’t ask then. I’ve always assumed he knew he was my first.

He lies quietly for a moment.

“No, Kate, I didn’t know. Bloody hell, you were so brazen that night, unbuttoning my shirt and all that, I thought you had already done it before. You never hesitated. Bloody hell, I would have been a little easier on you, a bit gentler. I’m sorry, Kate.”

I am touched by his apology. My first time making love to Matthew was the best experience of my life, and he’s sorry! In a way, it is quite funny.

“There’s no need to apologize, Matthew. My first time was amazing.” I giggle and place a kiss on his chest as I nuzzle up close. “As you can see, I survived perfectly fine. Although for about a week or so afterward, I was quite sore.” I taunt him, teasing him, rubbing my thigh up and down his. “To be completely honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone that good since.” I’m shamelessly trying to arouse his interest.

“Oh, really?” He engages in my game, rolling on top of me, pinning me down. “I guess I better give you a good show, then, Katherine, so you can’t walk straight for two weeks without thinking about me this time.” With that, he silences me with his mouth hard and hot upon my lips.

CHAPTER 19

Complete Surrender

I wake to the smell of strong, hot coffee arousing my taste buds and brain. The morning sun is streaming in, and looking at the clock, I see it’s already after seven. My body screams as I move my legs to the side of the bed, and I smile with the memory of making love to Matthew last night. He gave his youthful self a run for his money. I most definitely am out of shape, as this is by far the most physical workout I have experience in a long time.

I grab the plush bathrobe that I wore last night and head downstairs. Matthew is obviously an early riser and a fan of breakfast. He has already ordered room service, and an assortment of pastries lies before us on the dining room table. He is sitting with his iPad on his lap, in a pair of black shorts and
no shirt, tapping away.

“Good morning.” He stands and greets me with a kiss. “Coffee or tea?”

“Ummm.” I savor his lips as they touch mine. “Coffee, please.” In a moment, he has poured me a steaming mug of hot coffee. I help myself to cream and sugar and head toward the open balcony doors. The soft white chiffon curtains flutter gently in the morning breeze.

“What time do we need to leave?” I say over my shoulder, stepping outside into the fresh air. The sun is playing peek-a-boo with the scattered clouds, darting in and out, one moment casting a cool shadow, the next radiating its full brilliance. Below me the city is alive once again, and I can hear its vibrant energy rising to greet me.

“Probably no later than noon,” he calls out to me. “Check-in is two hours prior, and that way we have plenty of time for the train journey in.” He peeks over his tablet screen. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.” I smile. “I hope my snoring didn’t keep you awake.”

He stands and walks toward me, joining me on the balcony.

“My body was so drained a train could have crashed through our room last night and I would not have woken.” His eyes twinkle, and he kisses my forehead. I know exactly how he feels; we both slipped into an exhausted sleep around three this morning. I am amazed that I feel so rested on only four hours sleep. He stands behind me, his chin resting on my head as we stare at the rooftop view. Being with him brings me such joy, a peace I can neither explain nor comprehend. I only know that I
feel as though I have found my other half, the piece of me that has been missing for so long.

“How is your coffee?” he inquires, placing a soft kiss on my neck.

“Perfect.” I already feel the awakening of butterflies in my stomach.

“You seem to be walking very well this morning. Perhaps too well.” He pulls the robe off my shoulder, exposing my naked flesh. “Maybe we need to do something about that.” His playful threat causes a throbbing sensation to return at the very thought of him touching me.

Matthew removes my coffee cup from my grip, setting it on the patio table beside me, and guides me back into the room and up the stairs. As we climb the staircase, he carefully disrobes me, discarding the white fluffy mass somewhere halfway up the staircase. He pulls the sheets back, and I slide in while he casts off his shorts and follows me into bed, enveloping me in his arms.

We lie for a while wrapped in each other’s arms, our hands roaming over each other’s skin, gentle touches and soft caresses. I love being able to look at him in the light, to watch him and to see him watch me. His kisses are slow and deep, unhurried and precise. Once again, my body responds eagerly, begging for his touch, for his masterful fingers to play me like a fine instrument. He positions himself between my thighs and leisurely enters me, shallowly at first, and then, unhurriedly, he glides his full length within me. We make love, slow dancing to our own song, savoring each moment.

Buried deeply in me, he rolls over and pulls me with him so that I’m straddling him, staring down at
him. As my weight adjusts and my hips open, he sinks deeper still, filling me completely. His hands hold my hips so he has complete control of my every move as we continue our dance, losing all sense of time and space, focusing only on one another.

As much as I long to move to my own rhythm, Matthew is forcing me to take it slow, to experience the physical joining of our bodies. As we move together, as I feel him deep within me, his eyes never leave mine, and as I find myself climbing higher and higher toward my rapture, the intense look in his eyes makes me feel like he is staring into my soul. Finally, he releases my hips, his hands moving to my breasts, encircling them, tugging at the tender nipples. I am free to dance. My hips circle wildly, my breathing becomes rapid, the pressure inside finally exploding as an inferno sears through me. I keep my eyes open, locked onto Matthew’s dark eyes. His gaze is intense, and as my body arches and my nails dig deep into his chest, I find my sweet release once more.

The ripples within me have barely subsided when he flips me onto my back, my hips still straddling his. Matthew is still buried deep within me, now ready for his turn. Once again, he moves slowly at first, tenderly allowing me to recover, kissing me softly, our tongues matching the rhythm of his hips. I hold onto him, my arms across his back and shoulders. Drawing up my legs, I open my hips to allow him fuller access as his tempo increases; he pulls out, and then pushes in harder. Faster and faster, the bed starts trembling, then rocking; small muffled screams escape me each time he thrusts
into me. The pace reaches a crazed fervor, and Matthew lets out a loud moan and collapses on top of me as I feel the warmth of his release spreading within me.

Smiling, I relax my legs around him and softly kiss his shoulder. I love the feel of his weight on top of me, the taste of his sweat, and the scent of our lovemaking. I absorb every last moment, trying to commit to memory each detail because I know this is the last time I will ever make love to Matthew. This memory has to sustain me for a lifetime.

We shower together one last time, washing away the remnants of our lovemaking. We take turns bathing each other, and Matthew insists on shampooing my hair. I find the act profoundly intimate and romantic.

Later, as I finish blow drying my hair, I take one last look in the mirror to check my appearance. I’m wearing my boots and jeans from yesterday and a fresh white T-shirt. By now, I don’t have much to choose from in my suitcase, so this is as good as it’s going to get. I have a black jacket with my carry-on bag, and once I put my toiletries away, I am all packed. Matthew is busy packing his last items in his bag; he looks sexy in dark wash jeans, a dark grey V-neck T-shirt, and a black sports jacket. His sunglasses, once again, are on top of his head, holding back his hair. We are both clean and refreshed, ready to leave the hotel on time.

We take the footbridge link from the hotel to Paddington Station, where the express trains run every few minutes from Paddington to Heathrow. The journey takes around fifteen minutes. We quickly find ourselves arriving at Heathrow terminal
three with plenty of time to spare. I start to head to the self-check-in machine, but I see Matthew has turned in the opposite direction, toward first class. We stop, staring at each other with about twenty feet separating us in the middle of the terminal.

“I’m in coach,” I stutter, never having considered that we wouldn’t sit together on the plane. My heart sinks, and I feel like it’s been swallowed by the earth below me.

“Don’t check in yet. Come over here for a minute, and let me see what they can do,” Matthew suggests, beckoning me toward him. I step in his direction, but I already know that upgrading my ticket isn’t an option.

“Give me your ticket and wait here.” He removes my ticket from my hand and instructs me to stay where I am while he goes to the first-class check-in desk.

A beautiful blonde in her mid-thirties greets Matthew, all smiles in a crisp white blouse that fits tightly across her breasts and a bright red suit fitting the contours of her body. Her hair is neatly pinned in a French chignon, a purple silk scarf is tied around her neck, and her lipstick matches her suit. Matthew is obviously explaining himself, and he points her attention to me several times. The representative starts tapping at her computer terminal, smiling and nodding as if answering yes to all of Matthew’s questions.

“Kate.” Matthew motions for me to come over. “We’ve found a solution,” he says as I arrive next to him. “Haven’t we, Jane?”

She gives me a fake smile, and like a programmed robot, she responds, “Yes, Mrs. Jacobs.” She puts
emphasis on the “Mrs.” “We have been able to allow for a compromise and upgrade your journey to business class today, as the flight is underbooked. You and Mr. Sullivan have new seat assignments and boarding passes, along with complimentary passes to the lounge. If I may have your passport, Mrs. Jacobs, and your luggage, I will gladly complete your check-in.”

“Really?” I look at Matthew, wondering what on earth he did to change my ticket and downgrade his.

“Passport!” he responds.

“I’m sorry you gave up your first-class seat for me.” I apologize, feeling terrible.

“Kate, first class is over rated. Plus, these new Airbus configurations have individual pods. We would have been sitting separately, with a wall between us, if I upgraded your ticket. Having a wall between us is not exactly how I plan on wasting the next twelve hours. Business class is a much better solution, and I’ll have you right beside me.”

I hand over my passport without further dispute, Jane completes our check-in, and soon enough, Matthew and I are through security and browsing the duty free shops. I buy some chocolate for Allie, and Matthew buys each of his girls a T-shirt and a stuffed animal. He chooses a tin of soft toffee and tea bags for his mum. While he ventures off to purchase some Scotch, I wander through the cosmetics section, smelling various perfumes and colognes. I am trying to figure out if any of them smell like Matthew.

A polite sales girl offers me a sample of a new perfume, and I continue to browse while wafting the scented piece of paper back and forth under my
nose. It smells exotic, and something about it appeals to me, so I go back to treat myself to a bottle. After all, my birthday is coming soon. Matthew joins me as I approach the counter.

“Smell this,” I say, passing the sample to him, touching the tip of his nose with it.

“Ummm, delectable.” He inhales the scent deeply. “There’s something very exotic about it. Something that reminds me of you.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Ummm,” I groan, savoring his lips.

“Hello, madam.” The sales girl snaps me back to reality. “Did you change your mind?” Her young face looks hopeful about a possible sale.

“Yes, actually, I will take one after all,” I inform her, excited about my purchase. “May I spray some on right now?”

“Absolutely, madam,” she replies. She hands me a small bottle that looks like a glass grenade filled with pink liquid.

I spray the perfume behind each ear and across my left wrist, rubbing it into my right to spread the scent. Matthew leans in, inhaling, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls away from me. His approval is obvious.

“Two, actually,” Matthew chimes in. “We’ll take two bottles, please.”

“Lovely,” the sales girl replies cheerfully.

“Two?” I turn to him. “I don’t need two.”

“No, Kate, you only need one.” He turns back to the sales girl and hands her his boarding pass, passport, and credit card before she asks for them and before I can even think about paying.

“Thank you, sir,” she replies, taking his
documents and running his card.

I see. He’s buying his wife the same perfume I picked out for myself. Well, isn’t that a big slap in the face? With all the hundreds of perfumes and cosmetics for sale at Heathrow, he doubles up on my purchase. I didn’t think that was Matthew’s style, but obviously, I’m wrong. I find myself wandering away from where he’s standing, not wanting to lose my temper or cause a scene.

Matthew catches up to me, and I notice he doesn’t have any bags.

“Did you decide against buying either of us the perfume in the end?” I spit out sarcastically.

“No, Kate, my duty free bags will be delivered to the aircraft,” he responds, as if any reasonable person should know that. Well, I didn’t know that. I’m carrying Allie’s chocolate like a normal person. I stand firm, not moving, while hoards of people pass us in the constant movement of the airport.

“Kate, this is neither the time nor the place to get into a disagreement about how many bottles of perfume I purchase. Please, let’s just go over to the lounge.” Matthew is agitated, and when he reaches for my hand, I pull it away, upsetting him more.

“Katherine,” he warns. “I have less than twelve hours to spend with you, the last twelve hours that I will ever get to spend with you.
Please
, let’s not do this. Not now.”