#Matthew Tkachuck fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tkwrites · 3 months

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Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together?

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing.

Me and you We were a strange situation And kissing you Felt like Christmas Vacation An exciting place to escape Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one.

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before.

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music.

“Do you need a towel, man?”

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed.

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot.

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder.

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide.

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.”

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women.

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights.

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music.

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it.

“Sure,” she yelled back.

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on.

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter.

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it.

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted.

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it.

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said.

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her.

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it.

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country.

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it.

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?”

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle.

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.”

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.”

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.”

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little.

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit.

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.”

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made.

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said.

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?”

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.”

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college.

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk.

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion.

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants.

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.”

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space.

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.”

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue.

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled.

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat.

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.

“Sure.”

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest.

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake.

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi.

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released.

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay.

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin.

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted.

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered.

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?”

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer.

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach.

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come.

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale.

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness.

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision.

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling.

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn.

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried.

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name.

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside.

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank.

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left.

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions.

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother.

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot.

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.”

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.”

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd.

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained.

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed.

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.”

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home.

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.”

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning.

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin.

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together.

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard.

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app.

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over.

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet.

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Listen, I heard you last night.”

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?”

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.”

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling.

“Is this about that girl?”

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -”

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her.

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside.

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.”

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.”

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something.

“How can we help you, darlin?”

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?”

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?”

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.”

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows.

“Is it condemned?”

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile.

“Did they find out what caused it?”

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.”

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around.

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t.

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.”

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had.

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?”

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note?

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am!

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.”

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts.

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?”

Yeah, my future, he thought.

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -”

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted.

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation.

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth.

“Someone was just here looking for you.”

Hope started hammering in his chest.

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.”

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick.

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.”

Now he really was going to throw up.

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night?

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning.

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side.

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.”

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell.

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months.

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books.

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory.

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up.

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.”

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team.

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said.

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?”

“Another team.”

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face.

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess.

“Look him up on Insta.”

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers.

She messaged him, hoping.

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder.

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life.

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight.

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest.

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it.

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2.

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting.

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before.

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be.

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks.

“Matthew?”

His head shot up.

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it.

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer.

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green?

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight.

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life.

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot.

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was.

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed.

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.”

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.”

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked.

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.”

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name.

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood.

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true.

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him.

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.”

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit.

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work.

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision.

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well.

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?”

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen.

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.”

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more.

Josh stayed where he was.

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?”

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long.

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked.

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?”

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.”

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.”

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out.

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right?

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.”

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open.

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else.

Matthew was the last at the table.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her.

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?”

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away.

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?”

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate.

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?”

“Eight,” he said.

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him.

“All for here?”

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.”

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew.

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded.

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice.

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at.

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal.

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?”

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left.

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car.

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?”

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears.

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?”

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud.

Both guys just waited.

“But the club caught fire.”

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…”

“Fucked it?” Benny asked.

“Yeah.”

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’”

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said.

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.”

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams.

“Uh, hello?” someone asked.

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring.

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor.

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?”

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him.

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down.

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said.

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results.

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes.

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?”

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.

“I guess so.”

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.”

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer.

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said.

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside.

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.”

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.”

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.”

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.”

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.”

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was.

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?”

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.”

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.”

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed.

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked.

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded.

“I’d at least give him a chance.”

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week.

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.”

She giggled.

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things.

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed.

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.”

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?”

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.”

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced.

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat.

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.”

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her.

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly.

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.”

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him.

She looked instantly downcast.

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture.

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important.

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.”

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them.

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.”

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them.

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?”

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.”

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said.

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.”

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.”

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.”

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?”

“Right. Yeah, okay.”

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes.

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this?

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked.

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?”

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants.

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again.

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.”

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it.

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps.

“Only when I think you might come in.”

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning.

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra.

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs.

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans.

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.”

“Can you define that a little more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…”

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it.

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.”

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink.

God, maybe they really were made for each other.

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast.

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing.

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both.

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close.

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him.

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other.

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together.

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft.

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs.

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers.

There was the passion she’d been looking for.

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs.

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him.

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough.

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.”

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again.

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too.

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone.

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs.

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles.

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her.

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body.

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?”

“Hmm?”

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

“Okay.”

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin.

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to.

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure.

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning.

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing.

“What do you need?”

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.”

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched.

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust.

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps.

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Body shaking, she cried out.

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her.

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.”

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times.

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.”

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?”

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?”

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool.

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room.

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed.

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter.

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.”

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere.

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to.

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling.

“Okay?” she asked again.

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in.

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation.

God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving.

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most.

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another.

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot.

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright.

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath.

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.”

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.”

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates.

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more.

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.”

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept.

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft.

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already.

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him.

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better.

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.”

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one.

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak.

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint.

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth.

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place.

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect?

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan.

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close.

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed.

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!”

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again.

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face.

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget.

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room.

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.”

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home.

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up.

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled.

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark.

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed.

Matthew nodded.

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief.

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed.

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date.

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for.

Fanciction Masterlist

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