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The next time I’m with Faith, I’m going to make her come.

I roll onto my side in bed when I hear my phone chime with an incoming text message.

I’m not on call, so chances are that it’s either Delia or Callum looking for advice.

For some reason, I have yet to understand, they think it’s wise to text me after midnight to shove their problems at me.

I don’t complain. I never would.

The truth is I’d step in front of a roaring freight train to save either of them or anyone else I love.

I pick up my phone in the darkness and glance at the screen.

Faith: Are you asleep?

I sit up in bed and with shaking hands, type out a quick response to her text message.

Matthew: Wide awake.

I smooth a hand over my erection. I’m nude. This is how I sleep. It’s how I’ve always slept.

I watch as the three dots bounce on the screen as she types out her reply. My breath staggers as I think of the possibilities.

She might offer me a simple goodnight or a wish that I’ll sleep well.

Or she might…

Faith: Can you come over? I unlocked my door just now so come right in.

I’d ask if she’s all right, but there’s no time for that. My cock is driving every single one of my movements.

I toss my phone on my bed, tug on my sweatpants, and grab my keys on my way out.

“Matthew?” Faith’s voice calls hesitantly from somewhere beyond the small and crowded foyer of her apartment.

“I’m here,” I say into the darkness before I turn to lock the door.

I settle for one out of three locks because I’m here now. If anyone tries to break in, they’ll need to deal with me.

“I’m in here.” Her voice travels to me beyond the walls of her living room and kitchen.

I’ve been in this apartment countless times. I took it upon myself to buy groceries for Gerry. I walked his dog too, cleaned up its messes, and performed CPR one winter night when I found Gerry passed out inside this place.

I let myself in with a swift kick of my bare foot against his door.

I had pounded on the door for at least a minute by then because his smoke alarm was chirping so loudly that it pulled everyone on this floor out of their apartments with morbid curiosity.

Gerry’s dinner was smoking in his oven while he lay prone on the floor.

He lived. His roasted chicken was too far gone to save.

I use the light streaming in from the window to guide me around the circular dining room table and the television stand that sits too far out into the hallway.

“I’m coming,” I assure her in a low voice.

I’m trying to hold it together, but this isn’t how I expected the night to go.

I didn’t think I’d hear from her again.

This is a gift, and whatever is waiting for me in her bedroom, I’ll readily accept it.

If she has a stuck window she needs help with or if she’s primed to fuck, I’m the man for the job.

I make it to the doorway of her bedroom, and the sight before me steals every ounce of air from my lungs.

A small lamp illuminates the room from the corner.

I see Faith in her bed, her pink hair splayed out on the pillow and a bare shoulder peeking out from beneath a white blanket.

“Come to bed,” she whispers. “Please, Matthew.”

I accept the invitation without a word. I stalk toward the bed, shed myself of my sweatpants, and slide beneath the blanket next to her warm, nude body.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Faith

His large hands roam over me, touching my skin, but it’s all so gentle.

“Faith,” he whispers my name. “Your body.”

I can’t believe I texted him and asked him to join me.

I was aching for him, and this time my hand couldn’t chase it away.

I came once and then again a second time after I got into bed, but still, I couldn’t sleep because I wanted more. I wanted Matthew.

“Matthew,” I say his name with my lips pressed against his cheek. “I want this.”

That’s all it takes for his hand to trail down my side toward my hip. “I want you.”

I’ve never heard words that touched me so deeply.

I know it’s sex, but there’s more than that between us.

I felt the connection tonight when I sat in his lap. I saw it in the way he looked at me.

He didn’t rush me or try to convince me to do more than I was ready for.

He took it slow and savored every second we had together.

His hand moves to my ass. He fists the flesh with a low groan escaping him. “Jesus, Faith. Your skin is so soft. Your body is perfect.”

I tentatively touch him too. Resting a hand against his bare chest, I sigh. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Hawthornes of New York Romance