Free The Rebound Girl (Getting Physical) by Tamara Morgan

did she.
    Matt crossed the room before she could blink, and all she could think in the first few whirlwind seconds of his mouth capturing hers was that she’d been duped. This man, so curiously shy, had no intention of taking things slow. He had no intention of remaining buttoned up. With the kind of deep, insistent kiss that went straight to her toes, Matt proved that full attention was just the start of what he had to offer.
    “How am I doing so far?” he asked, pulling away when it became clear both of them were going to need to eventually breathe. “I have the feeling I’m going to like this rebounding thing.”
    “You tricked me.” She licked her lips slowly, her body throbbing with desire as his eyes followed every flick. “I thought I was going to get to teach you a lesson or two, Mr. Fuller.”
    “Am I supposed to call you by your last name too?” he asked, curling one hand against her hair. His other hand was busy behind her back. Somewhere along the way, he’d slipped it under her shirt and was trailing a slow, careful pattern along the length of her spine. “I’m not sure I know it.”
    She let out a low laugh. “Last names aren’t required. And if you move your hand just a few inches lower, you can call me anything you want.”
    He pulled her roughly to him, and even though they both wore jeans, there was no mistaking the desire that swelled between them. A low purr escaped her throat. If there was any sensation better than that of a man growing hard against her, she had yet to discover it.
    And bless his heart, he did move his hand lower, cupping the generous curves of her ass with a kind of fierce possession that made her whimper with longing. But she couldn’t whimper long, because he kissed her again, rendering everything but the hot, insistent demands of his mouth a blur.
    Even though there was no question of what would eventually happen—the two of them, naked, his incredible tongue in all her dark, secret places—Matt took his time. She could feel just how much he wanted her, knew that the deep, shuddering breath he pulled when she grazed her hand over the hard line of his erection was just the start of his desire, but still he kissed. Everywhere. Jaw, neck, the slight dip in her throat, but mostly her lips.
    When Whitney was pretty sure she couldn’t take the slow, easy pace of his seduction anymore, she pulled away and nodded toward the bedroom. “Are you ready to show me what else you can do?”
    He examined her carefully, his expression difficult to read. Without touching any part of her, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, so light and soft it might have been a figment of her imagination. She leaned in, straining to increase the intensity of the kiss, but he held back.
    “What?” she asked, growing irritated—though with herself or him, she wasn’t quite sure. “I’ve already let you into my home, and I’m ready to lead you straight to my bed. What else are you trying to get from me?”
    His eyes searched hers, leaving her feeling strangely lost in her own skin. “What else are you willing to give?”
    “Nothing.” That wasn’t strictly true. The longer he made her wait, the more certain she was that she’d do just about anything to get him between her legs. “And everything,” she amended.
    “That sounds like a great place to start.”
    She ignored the thick, emotional promise in that statement. “Well? Are you going to take my clothes off, or am I going to have to do it myself?”
    Matt licked his lips, his gaze not straying from her face. “You,” he said, the word so quiet it was almost a whisper. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was reverent. A girl could get used to that. “You do it. Please.”
    “Good answer.” Great answer.
    She took her time with the task. It had taken quite a bit of practice in front of a mirror to learn how to shed one’s shirt to maximum effect, but she’d been nothing if not a diligent student in her youth.