Rebound, Boundless Series, Book 1

Chapter Thirty Four

After we spent another half hour with Stella and Craig, we said our goodbyes and set off to Matt's second home. I was nervous, unsure of what to expect. Would there be pictures of his ex-wife around the house? Would her things still be in closets and drawers? Did he keep their marital bed? Would being there remind him of her and forget about me? Those were questions I hadn't dared ask him. It wasn't any of my business. However, I felt uncomfortable doing anything sexual at the house—more specifically, on their marital bed.

Matt pressed the buttons on the visor of his car and a black gate opened up, then he pressed the button again to close it after we drove forward. He drove us along a long windy driveway.

We ultimately arrived at a house. It wasn't just a house. It was a mansion. And for some strange reason, I felt gutted. I had never expected to see a sprawling estate in Massachusetts, and the owner just so happened to be the man I'd been sleeping with for exactly almost three weeks.

I felt ashamed and humbled by the state of my meager studio. He knew how many jobs I worked to make ends meet. Despite my knowing he owned several homes, not seeing them kept me somewhat in the dark as to his financial status and power.

A panic attack was rising as we neared the stone-lined driveway. He had a four-car garage offset from the house. He pressed another button and one of the garage doors opened up and drove in. The lights turned on, unveiling the finished garage, which housed two other vehicles and a motorcycle.

"I didn't know you rode a motorcycle." I couldn't contain myself. I used to ride with Tommy all the time before he died.

"I haven't done so yet this season, but yeah, I ride. I've ridden to Maine. Zipper and Brady ride with me. The other two don't care for it as much. We'll take it out for a spin when the weather gets warmer. I'll just have to buy you some gear."

"Some gear?"

"Helmet, leather jacket, pants. Better to be safe than sorry."

"Sure, of course." I nodded. "My brother Tommy used to take me out on his motorcycle, but there weren't jackets or pants. He would give me his helmet. Then again, he was a major risk taker." My smile faded as my thoughts went to more sorrowful memories.

"I'll show you inside and we'll switch to the convertible." I spotted a sleek, black luxury vehicle with a cloth top. It was only big enough for two people. Matt unlocked the door leading to the house. From the outside, I had believed it was a detached garage, but it happened to be attached to the house and there was a wide passageway leading to the main section of the house.

Matt punched a number code on a control panel when we entered the hallway. He switched on lights as we walked through the house, revealing spectacular sights of art and décor. It was a mix of masculine with touches of wood accents and female touches of marble and brighter colors of blues and greens. We walked into the open-spaced living area. He showed me all the rooms and I feigned delight by giving short words for each thing he showed me: Nice. Great. Beautiful. Charming. Lovely.

When we arrived at the primary bedroom, it was beyond my wildest dream. It was enormous, containing a full seating area with a flat-screen television on the wall. I walked through the room, looking to see something of her—Sonia, his ex-wife, but I saw nothing in particular. He steered me into the bathroom. It was the size of my studio with a large whirlpool tub and a walk-in shower double the size of his apartment shower. Everything was white marble with slightly gray undertones.

I followed Matt into the primary closet. The closet was larger than the one in his apartment, holding enough clothing for four adults. Instead of being empty, there were rows of suits, dress shirts, jeans, sweaters, and shoes filling one side of the closet. The other side was empty, which I assumed was her side. I couldn't help but feel insecure because I only had enough clothes for a dresser and a tall, narrow armoire. I restricted myself to mixing and matching the things I owned because I didn't have the space to store more.

I could never afford to fill the empty racks and shelves in his closet.

"How often do you stay here?" I asked, curious as to why he needed such a big home.

"Before you, every weekend. Since you, today has been the first time I've walked through the doors."

"Oh? I'm sorry." I felt terrible I was taking him away from his regular routine.

He must have sensed my concern. "Not at all. I enjoy spending time with you. Because you have to be in town for your jobs, it makes no sense for me to drive up here on the weekends. I prefer spending time with you, wherever it may be." He pulled me close and kissed me. He walked me to the bed. Tingles spread throughout my body.

"We should get back to the city. I have to get up early for work." I poked his shoulder for emphasis.

"We can stay here and I'll drive you to work."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't have anything to wear. My toiletries." I had packed my birth control pills in my purse. Still uncertain and overwhelmed, I shook my head.

"Why?" He searched my eyes for the truth.

"This is your marital home. I feel weird." I looked around, searching for evidence of his prior relationship. "I know it sounds irrational, but I feel more at home in your apartment because it's all I've known for these couple of weeks." I looked toward the bed as I spoke. He guided my face to align with his and kissed me.

"Perla, this is my home. Not my exes home. She lived here for a short time. I gave her all of the furniture when we divorced so she could set up her own place. I refurnished this place with the help of an interior designer. I want you to feel comfortable here. Besides, you promised to make it worthwhile." He held me tight.

"Damn your great memory." I bit my lip, contemplating what he shared about the house. "I also said I'd do so when we get back, and I meant your apartment." I raised a brow.

"Please, baby. I want you." He kissed me. His tongue made its way into my mouth, probing and plotting to change my mind. He picked me up, which weakened my resolve. "I've fantasized fucking you in this room. I've wanted to rip off this dress all night. I actually wanted to fuck you in the gazebo."

I giggled to control the shivers coursing through my body.

"You're killing me," I said.

We made love on his bed.

Matt had a way of weakening my resolve. Prior to our getting together, I had no problems hurling the word no to anyone who needed to hear it. But Matt had a way of breaking down all of my walls and burrowing himself within the deepest recesses of my mended heart. I just hoped he didn't turn into a chisel that would break me into a million little pieces.