Chapter 2
“Okay, slight problem with the flowers,” Sangi responded.
Chelsea groaned before flopping into her chair. “What now?”
“These flowers are so pretty, I just want to keep them in my apartment.”
“Don’t scare me like that! So, we have a florist?”
Sangi’s laugh filtered through the phone. “Only the best. He’ll have everything ready in time for the wedding. The gardenias are beautiful, Chelsea. You’re going to love them.”
Chelsea sighed in relief. “Thanks, hon.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m meeting his parents this weekend.”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Chelsea laughed. Her best friend, the ever present sailor mouthed woman. While Chelsea could contain her language and be appropriate, it seemed almost impossible for Sangi to do. She shook her head.
“I’m serious,” Chelsea said. “I’m nervous. More nervous than fifth grade ballet recital, nervous.”
“Well, it is some serious shit. Don’t worry, I’ll have your back.”
“How can you have my back?”
“I’m going with you!” Sangi declared a little too loudly.
“Why on earth would you want to go? Why would I let you go?”
“Come on,” Sangi whined, making Chelsea roll her eyes, “I want to see how the WASP’s live. Let me go, let me go.”
“I’ll ask Matthew. I have to go, someone’s knocking. Bye.”
“Come by for drinks tonight.”
Chelsea laid her phone on the desk. One of her co-worker’s peaked her head in and dropped off some paperwork before quickly disappearing again. Chelsea drummed her fingers on her desk when the idea hit her. She logged into her laptop and opened up a new search page. She bit her bottom lip before she forced herself to type in Matthew’s name. Matthew Rawlins.
The computer loaded quickly and before she could stop herself she was scouring the internet. She saw a name attached to his family and clicked the link. His father’s page, Rawlins construction, popped up. A man of about fifty with thick black hair, thin build and the same baby blue eyes stared back at her. They were definitely related. The man had his arm wrapped around a young man’s shoulder who looked like Matthew, but after a few moments she realized wasn’t Matthew. They had the same blond hair, same smile, same way of holding themselves, but he had the most alarming emerald green eyes. Chelsea scrolled down a bit and saw the caption.
Father and son, Lyle and Andrew.
He had a brother?
*****
“I just don’t see why you don’t tell me these things,” Chelsea called as she slipped out of her work clothes. She could hear Matthew banging around in the kitchen. She could tell by the sound of tinkling that he was pouring glasses of something.
He walked into the room, the only clothes he wore his black boxers. “I don’t know, we’ve been busy. It’s not like you talk about your family much,” he said as he held out a wine glass filled with dark red liquid.
“Are you kidding me? I only talk about them all of the time. Why do you always avoid the subject?”
Matthew sighed. He sat his glass on the nightstand then crawled into the bed with her. He ran a hand down her stomach, her thigh. His fingers curled around her leg. She smacked at his hand and he yanked it away.
“Okay, I just don’t like talking about them. I mean, what would I say? They spend too much money and drive fancy cars. Besides, I thought this was supposed to be about us.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t pout at me. You’re not cute.”
“Damn straight. I’m sexy,” he said as he climbed on top of her.
Chelsea giggled as he bit into her neck. His teeth grazed her skin just gently enough to tickle her. She felt his eager hands working. Sighing, she knew the battle was lost. Matthew had a gift for winning even the smallest of arguments. She supposed it came with dating an attorney. His mouth trailed down from her neck. He kissed her shoulders, gently. Then he was moving on kissing her collarbones, the tops of her breasts, before he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. Her toes instantly curled.
Matthew’s fingers reached up. He gripped her left nipple between his fingers. She moaned as he lavished attention on both of her breasts, a shudder passing through her body. She could feel his cock stiffen beneath his boxers as he was pressed against her body. Chelsea wanted nothing more than to rip those boxers off and climb on top of him, but she could tell it wasn’t going to be that easy to gain control. The thing she loved most about sex with him was the variety. Sometimes they were loving, passionate, other times they were in a power struggle that always ended up being mutually satisfying.
Matthew grinned at her as he worked his hands around her back, opening the lacy pink bra she wore before he tossed it to the floor. She heard it land softly. His fingers gripped her breasts, firm but gentle. She felt the warmth of his tongue glide over her nipples as she closed her eyes and arched her back. He went after one nipple, then the next. Back and forth until she was slowly turning into a puddle.