Free Something More by Samanthya Wyatt

torture.
    Matthew blinked. The vision in his mind replaced the panoramic view in front of him. It had been damned difficult to concentrate on the meeting today. Now he allowed his lustful thoughts of Carrie to roam free. He’d already denied his body’s release. He could not deny his mind its lascivious thoughts.
    Her soft features, generous curves, every detail committed to memory. Her scent enticed a man, making him want to be closer, to see if she really smelled that good. Not a strong, bold scent, nor a floral, flowery aroma. Her perfume hinted, teased, a misty, whispery, tempting quality that made him bend to her neck and inhale its fascinating fragrance. Tempting him to taste.
    His body heated as he recalled how she snuggled against him, making his arms tighten of their own accord. The precise fit had made him painfully aware of every one of her soft, delectable curves. When her fingers caressed his nape, pure sexual hunger, unlike any he’d known, grabbed his gut and settled in the hardness between his legs. Stroking fingers played havoc with his body.
    Thank God, the music stopped when it did. He needed the time to get his testosterone level back under control.
    He wanted to see her again. Not just for sex, either. He could get that anywhere. Carrie intrigued him. In due time they would share a bed, where he would savor her and not be rushed.
    He’d been attracted to her from the first, but that kiss made her an addiction, which could not be so easily explained. She’d melted under his touch. And from her scouring expression, she’d been surprised by her reaction. He would pursue her until he found out what it was that made her perplex him so.
    Matthew turned from the window. His coming to New York had been a success. But then he usually got what he went after.
    “Now,” he said as he picked up the phone. “Time to go after something else.”

Chapter 9
    The intercom buzzed and Brenda’s voice announced, “Mr. Gorgeous Roses, line one.”
    Carrie’s heart pounded . What was wrong with her? He’d walked away. Why should her pulse go ballistic and her mouth go dry. It wasn’t like she’d been waiting for his call.
    Liar.
    “Hello, Matthew.”
    “Hello.” It was ridiculous the way his voice could make her melt with just one word.
    They spoke at the same time.
    “Are you . . .”
    “Thank you . . .”
    They both stopped.
    “Ladies first.” His deep voice came across the line.
    Ignoring the slight flutter in the middle of her chest, she glanced at the freshly cut roses. “Matthew, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”
    “Not as beautiful as the lady, I assure you.”
    She paid no attention to most compliments. They usually were issued as a token of politeness or a come-on for bed sport. Matthew’s words pleased her, for she believed he meant them. Not to mention what his voice did to heighten her tingling nerves.
    “I know this is short notice,” he said, “but I wondered if you have plans for this evening.”
    Her pulse raced. With a calm voice, she replied, “Well actually, I do.” The silence on the other end was deafening.
    “Of course. A busy woman like you would have something penciled in every spot of her calendar. But it was worth taking a chance.”
    Working late was more of a habit than a necessity. She’d already changed her schedule. “You see, I plan to dine with the gentleman who sent me these lovely pink roses.”
    “Roses, you say,” Matthew murmured. “He’s a very lucky man.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe I’m the lucky one.” Carrie couldn’t believe she was uttering such nonsense. It wasn’t like her.
    “Will you be free early?”
    She twisted the cord around her finger. “I believe I can arrange that.”
    “Good. Shall I come for you? Say, six?”
    “I’ll be ready,” she breathed.
    There was another moment of silence before he spoke. “I leave tomorrow.”
    Her breath caught in her throat. At first she refused to believe she’d heard him correctly.