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mendeshoney · 2 months

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you know my weakness is you

author's note: well, you know, every now and then I remember I can write and Mat is the only player I apparently write about anymore, so here we are! this is I think my third (??? yikes) story I've written with an actual FMC character.

this character is a WOC and is plus sized bc...well, that's what I know as a person and it's kinda time I start actually trying to write like it. so let's just pretend there's a world where POC plus sized hockey wags can exist, mkay? i'm also manipulating some of the other wags of the team, so, that is also happening.

tags/warnings in no particular order: 18+, slight angst, enemies to lovers, original female character, WOC character, consensual unprotected sex, spit play, lots of kissing, more unprotected sex

word count: ~ 11,727k

Bruises.

So many bruises.

There were bruises on Summer’s arms and legs. Another on her cheek. All purple and splotchy and not at all good. They looked ugly and marred her brown skin in an unpleasant way that made his stomach churn.

Mat continued to take catalog - scrapes on her knees and elbows, and one on the bit of collarbone he could see before the rest disappeared beneath her white tank top. There was a cut on her head that was covered with a thin bandage, and he could see how part of it ran past her hairline and into her mess of curls. The final injury he clocked that made his composure snap was the cut on her plump bottom lip that made his blood run cold.

What the fuck.

“What the hell happened to you?” Mat demanded.

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud, or that it came out so harshly until Summer stopped speaking mid-sentence. His friends’ heads swiveled toward him comically, all of them wearing matching “what the fuck” looks at the level of venom in each syllable.

Summer’s usual smile that she had been wearing as she was speaking had diminished, barely ghosting her lips now, and Mat internally kicked himself as the light that came with it left her eyes slowly. That look, the slightly kicked-puppy one he was so used to her looking at him with, stirred up an ache inside of him this time.

“She was just telling us about it, asshole.” Sydney spit, Marty frowning slightly at him from where he was wrapped around his wife.

“I got into an ATV accident.” Summer told him softly, a little slowly as well, and Mat watched the way her lips formed the words, watching how it hurt her a little to speak them with her damaged lip. “I’m okay,” She reassured him quickly. “It looks worse than it is.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides. “How?” He demanded again.

Mat remembers, briefly, that when he last spoke to Tito, his best friend had mentioned how Summer and that piece of shit boyfriend of hers were going ATV riding with his family. Clearly, clearly, he had to have been at fault, right?

“We flipped over.” Summer says, confirming his suspicions, and seemingly everyone else’s, because she flinches, back tracking a little. “It was an accident.”

Mat scoffs, and Summer’s brown eyes narrow at him. He shakes his head, and before he can say anything else, Anders clears his throat.

“She’s fine.” He echoes.

Figures. Mat thinks, scowling. Of course Anders would come to her rescue.

Summer Maldonado was the younger sister to Sabrina Maldonado, the first Filipino Miss USA and his team captain’s fiance. Sabrina had been the Islanders’ in-arena host up until she began dating Anders in his second season with the team. She’d been everyone’s favorite significant other, as perfect in real life as she was on the pageant stage, and it wasn’t until Summer was legal and Sabrina had deemed Anders’ teammates as mildly gentlemanly that she deemed it okay to start bringing Summer around.

That of course, had been Mat’s rookie year. And for some reason, a reason he can’t quite understand, even though he’d taken one look at Summer that first day and deemed her the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life - caramel skin he imagined tasted as good as it looked, curves that he’d only hoped in his wildest fantasies he’d be able to map with his hands, long brown curly hair he wanted to feel between his fingers, bury his nose in - she’d hated him.

So he hated her too.

And had every day since.

Except today. Especially not today. Not when she showed up looking like she fought in the main event pay per view of a UFC title bout the night before.

How could he hate her when he wanted to understand how someone could allow her to walk away with all this damage to her precious body? A body he still hoped to worship someday, just once, if he got the chance.

Mat walks away, decides he can’t look at Summer or the god awful damage to her any longer. It makes him feel sick inside, and so he marches into Anders’ kitchen, flings open the fridge with way more force than necessary, and grabs the neck of a beer bottle so tight he pictures it’s the neck of Summer’s shitbag of a boyfriend.

He pops the cap off with a bottle opener and takes a hefty swig, leaning against the kitchen counter and shutting his eyes as he tilts his head up to face the ceiling.

Mat hears Anders’ sigh as he enters the kitchen, closing the sliding door behind him and joining Mat as he brooded.

“Don’t give her anymore shit about it, understand?” Anders warns, using his stupid captainly voice that he knows will get Mat under heel.

“Did that dickbag do it?” Mat counters.

“He was there, yes. He was driving the ATV when it flipped, but it was an accident. Sabrina’s already laid into Summer for it.”

At that, Mat’s eyes fly open, and Anders visibly winces. “Why?”

That was definitely a red flag. If it was an accident as everyone had been saying, what was there for Sabrina to be mad about?

Anders knew he fucked up, but instead of admit it, he tried to recover. “Safety.”

“Bullshit.” Mat spit. The bruises on Summer’s skin flashed in his mind, and Mat was certain he’d never be able to get the image out of his brain for the rest of his life. “What did Will do?”

He hated using that idiot’s name.

Anders seemed to hesitate, but at Mat’s fiery gaze, he caved. “He dropped her off at the hospital but he didn’t stick around. Sabrina had to go pick her up from the ER last night.”

Alone.

Mat’s chest twisted into something wicked. That dead fuck had left Summer alone in the ER after his idiocy, and Summer had the audacity to play it off like…like…

There was something hot and flaming in his veins that gave him half a mind to storm back outside and yell at Summer until she called her sorry excuse of a boyfriend to dump his ass. But as quick as his anger came, Mat forced it away.

What did he care?

She didn’t even like him. He wasn’t supposed to like her.

He wanted to say a thousand different things to Anders, but didn’t. He stood there, under the scrutiny of his captain’s gaze a little longer, and all he could say was “Whatever.”

Summer remembers the day she met Mat.

She remembers how the team had showed up at Anders and Sabrina’s house, how she’d been in Sabrina’s office submitting her final paper for the fall semester of her freshman year at Columbia, how she’d come out of the office at the sound of her name from her sister, and sauntered into the kitchen with a nervous yet shy smile on her face.

There’d only been about four of them, the first group to arrive, and Sabrina hoped that her casual outfit of blue jeans and a white tank top hadn’t been as underdressed as she feared when she spotted him.

Mathew Barzal. The new kid to the team, and according to what she’d been hearing from Islanders fans, the second coming of Jesus to the team. He’d been as handsome as she’d expected, as good looking as the girls at school had said, and Summer was shocked when she found herself under the intensity of his gaze as it ran over her body.

It felt like he’d taken his sweet time when it had maybe only been ten seconds max. Her stomach had churned uncomfortably anyway as he took in his fill, and while Summer had been working on her confidence, had been working on learning to love herself as she was, she suddenly didn’t like how he made her feel the opposite. A guy as gorgeous as that? What else could he be doing when looking at a girl like her except judging? Something ugly reared its head within her, made her feel terrible without reason, so when his eyes finally found hers, she looked away from him dismissively, drawing a line in the sand.

“They’re nice, but they’re still boys.” Sabrina had told her before they had arrived. “Just don’t let them get to you if they start to bother you.”

Summer took it to heart. Refusing to let Mat Barzal, or any man, get under her skin.

Mat scrolls through Instagram aimlessly, resting on Tito’s couch while he waits for him to get ready so they can go get dinner.

As he’s scrolling, he sees a picture Sabrina posted of her and her sister that’s been uploaded fifteen minutes ago.

It’s a picture from last Spring, he realizes, when he spots the little streak of baby pink hair Summer had under all of her layers. Summer’s hair is straight in the photo, and she’s wearing a long sleeve black dress that cuts off mid thigh, white heels, and she’s sitting next to Sabrina, who’s dressed similarly.

He zeroes in on Sabrina’s caption after getting his fill of Summer and her figure, heart pounding a little as he reads.

“Happy birthday Summer! Thankful to be your sister” Accompanied by a bunch of emojis stares at Mat, and his heart pounds once more.

He doesn’t really think about it when he clicks on the picture that’s tagged with Summer’s account, and clicks on it. The most recent picture is one of Summer from what looks like this morning.

She’s sitting up in her bed, dressed in a shirt that’s a few sizes too big, hair in a messy bun with some of those curls fallen out and framing her face. The clean and fresh look on her also slightly sleepy face has Mat taking in a slow breath, his eyes trying to commit everything to memory. Her eyes are closed as she smiles, one hand on her cheek bashfully, those beautiful, naturally plump, mauve pink lips stretching into a sleepy smile.

Damn her.

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

There’s a cake in the photo, resting on her bed in front of her, and balloons next to her bedside. He spots Sabrina’s purse off to the side, figuring she’d surprised Summer and taken the picture.

“Cheers to 24! Thank you to @sabimaldonao for the birthday surprise. Love you always!”

Mat finds himself commenting “happy birthday curly” and then pressing “Follow,” followed by the quickest exit out of Instagram ever, like he’s about to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Tito chooses that moment to decide he’s ready, and Mat screams like a little bitch when Tito says “Ready!”

It scares Tito, who yells in return, and then Mat chucks a couch pillow at him.

“Why did you throw that at me!”

“Why’d you sneak up on me!” Mat retorts, shooting up from the couch.

His palms are sweaty. Why were his palms sweaty?

Tito scowls at Mat. “Are you ready or not? I’m starving.”

Mat grumbles. “I’m not the one who took an hour to get ready, dickhead.”

As they head out to the bank of elevators, Mat pulls out his phone again, careful to expose the screen to Tito as he heads back into Instagram to see if Summer responded.

She didn’t. And she also didn’t follow him back yet.

It’s fine. Who cares? He reasons. It’s her birthday, you’re just being nice.

He checks again at least three times during dinner, and twice more after he heads home later that night.

Mat’s unreasonably irritated when there’s still nothing.

Who cares? He convinces himself. You don’t.

There were five years between Sabrina and Summer, and Summer felt the envy in each of them.

Never in a negative sense. And never because of Sabrina. Absolutely not.

Despite the childhood and teenage years (on both their parts) of them arguing and going through the typical sibling spats, Summer loved her sister more than anything in the world. She remembers being at Sabrina’s first pageant and thinking “my sister is prettier than all of these people.”

Sabrina had been a chubby child, but as she grew, she had shed all that weight through sports, extracurriculars, and was slim and beautiful and maintained the same weight and stature since she was sixteen.

Summer kept the baby fat as she grew, but not to Sabrina’s height, and while she felt puberty wasn’t completely unkind to her, it was clear puberty and her family genes favored Sabrina.

Her relatives showered Sabrina with praise. Always “Maganda ka.” You’re beautiful and “Wala kang kasing ganda!” No one’s prettier than you!

All Summer got was “Ang ganda ng ngiti mo.” You have such a beautiful smile.

Sabrina was everyone’s favorite. And that was okay, she was Summer’s favorite too.

Sabrina wasn’t oblivious or naive, she knew Summer had a tough time, that whenever their Lolo or Lola offered Sabrina seconds at dinner, they denied Summer seconds in the same breath telling her, “You eat anymore and you’ll be as big as a house!” Sabrina had stuck up for Summer many times, but it never really stopped happening to her.

People loved Sabrina.

They only liked Summer.

So yeah. She had her issues. But she also had her older sister to look up to, idolize, reasonably envy, and confide in.

Sabrina and Anders had gotten engaged last year after Summer finished her Master’s degree. The engagement, which, in Summer’s opinion, had been long overdue, had been a spectacle in itself, and now Sabrina and Anders had finally agreed to sit down and start planning, and their wedding was scheduled to be at the end of the summer.

They’d been living in their house in Bayport since Anders all but begged Sabrina to after they’d been dating about two years, and when they did, Sabrina made Anders swear to her that at least one of their five massive bedrooms would always be reserved for Summer (even though Summer lived in Garden City, less than forty five minutes away.)

Summer agreed to come over every other Saturday this summer to assist Sabrina with planning, and had stayed true to her word, even if it meant seeing more of Anders’ teammates.

Or teammate, to be specific.

Especially not with his recent social media activity.

She’d been shocked to say the least at his happy birthday message. Shock transformed into suspicion when she saw he even followed her on Instagram.

She didn’t say anything back. Didn’t return the follow. Why would she? They weren’t actually friends anyway.

Except, he’d started interacting, or trying to interact, with her. She’d posted a story with a poll for her friends, and when he voted on it (in her favor, though he didn’t know that), she remembered how she’d scrunched her nose in distaste. She posted a picture of her mom’s dog, a mangy little Scottish Terrier she and Sabrina had named “Angus” as teenagers, who had chewed up her Roku remote while dog-sitting him for her parents for the weekend.

Mat had reacted to it with a laughing emoji, and that also went ignored.

She made the mistake of posting another story of the particularly gnarly bruise on her forearm as it was healing, with a text over the picture that read “last time I try to be a daredevil” and Mat had responded to the story with a “next time don’t put yourself in danger while in the presence of idiots.”

Mat grinded on her nerves every chance he got, it seemed, and his insistence on his presence would certainly not help her current predicament.

Even if he may have been right.

After her ATV accident and being left at the hospital, she’d confronted Will and demanded to know why he didn’t come to check on her, or why he hadn’t called or texted to see if she was okay.

Deep down, Summer knew the answer, knew he didn’t really give a shit about her like he said he did, she just needed to hear it from his mouth. True to form, he’d come up with excuse after excuse, and she’d had enough, calling it quits and telling him she never wanted to see him again.

Was she upset she almost wasted a year of her life with him? Yes.

Was she upset that he didn’t seem to care about her when she was hurt? Yes.

Was she upset that he didn’t reach out after their breakup with apologies and roses?

Also yes.

It didn’t make sense, logically, she knew that. She didn’t want to be with him, sure, but no one had ever really fought for her before, fought to keep her, fought to win her back. And maybe she wanted that, just once, maybe she wanted to be wanted, lusted after, fought for, desired.

A picture of Sabrina from her Miss USA crowning hung from the wall as Summer sat in the computer chair of Sabrina and Anders’ joint office. Next to it, a picture of Anders on one knee, proposing, and next to that, a picture of Anders on the ice.

She thought of their relationship, of how Anders had worked every day to be worthy of her older sister, and immediately stopped, trying to focus her attention on the screen in front of her instead.

There was no use getting lost in her feelings.

She tries to focus on the information in front of her, about custom invitations and designs and price points, when the front door to Sabrina’s house opens, and a loud “Anders!” rings out.

Summer groans, shouting out “He’s outside, dipshit!”

Moments later, Mat’s annoyingly handsome face came into view as his body filled the doorway. “Oh, it is you. Your little witch’s cave too hot? Had to come to big sis’s to get away from your steaming cauldron?”

“Can you even spell ‘cauldron,’ Mathew?” She says, keeping her eyes on the laptop.

“Why are you here?” He fires back.

“It’s my sister’s house.”

“It’s my captain’s house.”

“Pretty sure it’s still my sister’s house.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to get back to?”

Summer could feel her control snap. “Listen, you little shit, I-”

“Can you two at least try to get along for one day?”

Mat jumps a little at Sabrina’s voice, whirling around with a fright, while Summer just rolls her eyes.

“He came in unannounced and bothered me.” Summer mutters, clicking on an invitation pattern that matches Sabrina’s wedding theme.

Sabrina sighed, and motioned with her head toward the backyard. “Anders is outside, he’s waiting for you.”

Mat nods once, glances back at Summer with a scowl, then saunters off.

Finding his captain next to his exercise equipment in his backyard, Mat throws down his bag and plops onto a bench, glaring at Anders.

Anders rolls his eyes. “Can you at least try to be nice to her? She’s going through something, you know.”

Mat scoffs. He thinks of Summer’s healing bruises, some yellow, some still green, but at least the cut on her forehead had disappeared for the most part. He also thinks of the picture of her healing bruise on her arm she’d posted on her Instagram story the week before. He doesn’t think he noticed it just now.

“Yeah,” Mat says after a beat too long. “Well she’s healing up fine to me from the looks of it.”

Anders gives him a strange look, but waives it away, shoving weights at Mat. “Whatever, let’s get started.

Mat has half a mind to push back, ask Anders what he was about to say, but he levels him with that Captainly stare, and Mat shuts up, commencing his workout.

Drastic measures are being taken so Summer doesn't get too lost in her own heartbreak.

Well, not heartbreak, maybe lack of it.

She’d gone from wishing that Will had fought for her to actually being grateful that he hadn’t, then regretful that she didn’t actually feel any sorrow for leaving him behind.

Summer felt like she should be sad. But she wasn’t. And that somehow managed to make everything worse.

She feels like she’s pouting, so she keeps drinking in the hopes that none of her friends notice.

She especially keeps her eyes away from the scene near her that’s slowly awakening the little green monster inside, choosing to look around the club at literally anyone and anything else except Mat.

She goes so far as to make sure to volunteer herself anytime someone is going to the bathroom to tag along so nothing happens, and volunteer to go grab drinks with whoever is buying the next round.

It’s a lot, but she was getting away with it.

Or so she thought.

“What is up with you tonight?”

She narrows her eyes at Emma, because Emma already knows the answer, but is choosing to ask her in front of everyone anyway to draw their attention.

“Nothing.” Summer says earnestly, grabbing her margarita and taking a long sip from her straw.

“You are drinking a lot more tonight.” Tito offers, looking at the drink in her hand.

Summer frowns. “It’s a birthday party, isn’t that the point?”

Mat’s birthday party, to be specific. She doesn’t think she was explicitly invited, but didn’t protest when Sabrina picked her up and brought her to Tito and Emma’s to get ready together.

“Yeah, but you usually don’t party as hard. Everything okay?” Tito asks again. Emma’s staring a hole into the side of Summer’s face, and she ignores her.

Nodding, Summer takes another sip. “Fine.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a boy would it?” Tito tries, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. Summer misses the glance he does between her and Mat, thinking instead that he’s talking about Will.

She shakes her head, pasting on a cordial smile. “Nope. No boy drama here.”

“Great!” Emma exclaims. She untangles herself from her fiance’s hold then exits the booth, grabs Summer’s drink and places it on the table before guiding Summer to the dance floor.

Only a few feet away, Mat dances with some leggy brunette, his hands on her waist, and Summer fights off a scowl, green, green, green creeping through her veins, and she shoves the feeling away.

Who gives a fuck what he’s doing? She questions herself before facing Emma.

“What are you doing?” She asks as Emma begins to dance.

“Helping you.” She supplies sweetly. “I didn’t convince you to wear this dress for nothing, Sum. C’mon, let’s dance and make him your stupid ex boyfriend regret that he exists.”

Caving, Summer starts to dance, swaying her hips along to the beat and eventually smiling at Emma for the distraction.

Okay, so maybe Emma gets to be right about this.

As self conscious as she was about the dress before, it’s clearly working, as guys start to approach from all sides as the song continues. They stay away from Emma, the big diamond on her left hand a clear “stay away,” but some try to get close to Summer.

One does - a tall, buff, and devilishly handsome one - and as he taps Summer’s shoulder, she can see Tito coming in to join Emma.

“Wanna dance?” He says, flashing a flirty smile, and Summer nods, placing her hand in his outstretched one.

He gives her a twirl, pressing her back against his front as he pulls her close, but not too close, just enough to toe the line, and they start to move together, his hands on her hips. He leans close, the deep timber in his voice saying “I’m Loren, what’s your name beautiful?”

“Summer,” she says easily. “Nice to meet you.”

Loren smiles, his blonde hair brushing her face a little as he pulls back. “The pleasure’s definitely mine.” She thinks she hears him say.

Out of the corner of her eye, as Tito and Emma dance together, she sees Emma’s kilowatt smile and thumbs up, and the tequila in Summer’s drink suddenly begins to run quickly through her veins, causing her to flash a wicked smile back at Emma.

Leaning her head back against Loren’s shoulder, she can feel the stray curls slipping from ponytail begin to stick to her face as she heats up from the inside, and rests her hands on top of his, following his lead. Song after song blends together as she sways in Loren’s hold, and as another one begins, he chuckles. “I could go all night long with you.”

Summer can feel flames creep up her cheeks and into her hairline, catching Loren’s drift in more ways than one. “I’d like to see you try.” She flirts back.

He bends lower, lips ghosting her cheek when he says “Let’s go grab a water.”

She nods, letting him take her hand in his as he pulls her toward the bar. She signals a thumbs up to Emma and then to Sabrina as they pass, letting them know she’s okay, and Sabrina nods once, but still narrows her eyes at Loren anyway, her protectiveness never wavering.

Summer is only slightly shocked when they bypass the bar altogether, and Loren crowds her into the hallway near the bathrooms. Loren presses her against the wall with his body, placing his arms against it on either side of her head before he dips down, lips brushing hers as he says “I’ve had my eyes on you all night.”

Heat pools in her belly, and she tilts her head up slightly. “Have you now?”

He nods, presses a soft kiss to her lips, testing the waters. “Been thinking about what you might taste like.”

“Well keep thinking.”

The angry voice has both Summer and Loren snapping their heads toward the start of the hallway, where Mat stands, hands balled into fists as he glowers at Loren.

Loren, seemingly undeterred, doesn’t back up out of Summer’s space. “Can we help you?”

Mat storms over, cutting between them and forcibly pushing Loren away. Loren’s got a couple of inches on Mat, but Mat’s definitely stronger. “I suggest you walk away.”

“Is she your girlfriend or something?” Loren asks, then smirks. “Doesn’t seem like she wants to be.”

“She won’t be yours, that’s for sure.” Mat spits.

Summer, indignant, steps forward, pulling Mat’s shoulder. She was getting really tired of this pissing contest, really fast.

“Mat, knock it off.” She demands. “Just go away.”

He turns to look at her then, and Summer takes a step back when she sees the fire in his eyes, all anger and hatred. “You seriously want to go home with this loser?”

“She doesn’t want to go home with you.” Loren pipes up, and that seems to snap the last bit of restraint Mat had, because the next thing Summer knows, Mat’s turning around as fast as lighting and punching Loren across the face. Loren stumbles back just a second, then charges forward, and Summer finds herself shouting Mat’s name, something sick making her stomach churn.

She’s not stupid enough to try to intervene between two people who are stronger and bigger than her, but she can’t let this continue, so she calls for Tito, calls for Anders, voice rough and desperate, and they appear with Marty in tow, which, Summer realizes, is bound to make the situation slightly worse.

Emma, Sabrina, and Sydney are there as well, pulling Summer down the hall with them and away as the men try to break up the scuffle.

“Are you okay?” Sabrina demands. “Did he hurt you?”

Summer’s eyebrows bunch in confusion. “What? No. Mat didn’t do anything.”

Sabrina frowns. “I meant that guy you were with.”

Duh. Summer thinks lamely. “Oh, no, he didn’t. He barely even kissed me, but it was mutual.”

Her older sister searches her face for…something, what, Summer isn’t sure, but she seems to find it, and nods, pushing her toward Emma and Sydney. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What about the guys? Mat’s party? Don’t do this on my account. I’m fine, I swear.”

“We’re not,” Sydney reassures Summer, rubbing her arm gently as they pile into Sydney’s SUV parked near the curb. “We’ll finish the celebration somewhere else.”

“What about the guys?” She asks.

“They’ll take my car.” Sabrina says. “I gave Anders the key.”

Summer nods, but suddenly doesn’t feel like she’d be welcome at wherever that ‘somewhere else’ is, so she asks to go home instead.

The girls exchange worried looks, but agree, and they head toward Summer’s apartment instead.

Mat saunters over to where Summer stood in front of the island of the outdoor bar in Anders and Sabrina’s backyard. It was another night, another get together, and the warm air of the official start to the summer season wrapped everyone in a soft embrace.

He’d been meaning to approach Summer, meaning to apologize for his actions at the club with that punk. He didn’t feel he’d been unreasonable, but everyone else had reminded him that no matter his intentions, his actions said differently, and so, here he was.

And if the fact that Summer didn’t show up at Tito’s place when they all managed to reconvene said more than anything he felt his soul could bear.

Mat looked her over as she approached, taking full stock of her beauty. Her long curls in a ponytail secured with a scrunchie trailed down the open back of her red dress. From his perspective behind her as he approached, it had slightly puffy short sleeves, and crossed at the lower back, and the sight of her bare skin let him know she probably wasn’t wearing a bra.

Fuck.

He eyes the white strappy heels on her feet and suddenly felt the urgent need to know what they would feel like digging into his back.

Mat steels himself, and with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he extends the glass of wine toward Summer with a mumbled “Truce” as he approaches.

She turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised at the glass. “I’m sorry?”

“Truce.” He repeats, a little louder. “I’m sorry for the other night.”

“The other night?” She echoes, and Mat tries not to scowl.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He says, then winces, placing both his beer and her glass of wine down on the countertop. “The other night at the club, when I punched that guy you were gonna hook up with.”

“Loren?” Summer asks, genuine shock in her voice.

Mat could feel the flames of anger lick at him from the inside, and he tried so desperately to push it down.

“I don’t care what his name is.” There was more venom in his voice than he’d wanted to be. But it was true, he didn’t. He didn’t care about or want to hear about any second rate guy you hung around.

Because it’s not you? The devil on his shoulder taunted.

Fuck off.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.” He tries again. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Mat,” she says, soft. “If anything, I should be sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.”

“You didn’t.” He promises, ��I did by doing that. But you didn’t ruin anything. And I’m sorry I acted out.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

Mat pauses. “So you forgive me? You don’t hate me?”

“I do.”

Mat stares at her, weighing her non answer of an answer. “You do?”

“I do,” she says, nodding, then clarifies with a wicked gleam. “Hate you.”

Mat sours, grabbing his beer and taking a large swing before putting it back down. “Right back at ya, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, then pauses, like she’s thinking. It’s another beat before she tells Mat, “I didn’t want to hook up with him, you know.”

His blood begins to boil again. “I don’t know, you were dancing on that punk like you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Because I don’t.” She says simply.

A record scratching screams in his head, and he rounds on her. “What?”

“I said, I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

When he just stares at her, trying to come to terms with what she just said, she rolls her eyes and takes a step back from him. “Oh for god's sake Mathew, I broke up with him. So shut the fuck up about it already.” She spits, turning on her heels and leaving him in the wake of her revelation.

His heart beat in his chest, something sick and wicked making him follow Summer into Anders’ house as she sauntered away ahead of him. At the sound of the sliding door closing behind him, he half expected Summer to turn around and look at him, but she didn’t, instead continuing to stalk toward the guest room down the hall.

Mat hurried his steps, catching up with her before grabbing her hand, turning her around and pushing her into the open hall closet, then shutting the door closed and locking it behind him. He flipped on the light, soul brightening at the sight of her beautiful face and then dimming at the frown on it.

“What the fuck, Mathew?” she spit.

“You broke up with him?” He demands.

She rolled her eyes, and Mat felt his palm aching to spank her ass for it. “Yes, that’s what I said. We broke up. Did you need further clarification? I figured all of your past failed relationships would-”

“When?” He cut her off, taking a step closer to her. Summer took one back, nearly backing into the shelf of extra linens behind her.

“Two weeks ago.” She deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest, inadvertently drawing his attention to them as her words sunk in.

Two weeks. Two weeks too long.

“Two weeks ago?” He echoes in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyebrows raise at him in equal disbelief as she says “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You know why.” He hisses.

Another roll of her eyes followed by an irritated sigh. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?”

Her challenge hangs in the air, and he feels himself pause for one, two, three seconds before…

Fuck it.

“God damn you.” Mat swears, reaching under her dress, finding her hip, wrapping his fist around the lace fabric of her underwear there, and tugs.

He tugs once, strong and quick, and the flimsy thing snaps, and Summer lets out an indignant squeak as he pulls the ruined fabric from under her dress, sticking it in his pocket.

“Mat-” she says, and he surges forward to kiss her, to take her mouth and shut her up because if she said his name like that again he’d come before he was even inside her. His hands cup the sides of her face as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, gently running his tongue over it before letting it slip between his teeth and pulling. When she moans again, Mat nearly bursts at the seams.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises her, continuing to taste the berries on her lips as he let his hands slide up, let his hands go up to the scrunchie holding her beautiful curls in its ponytail and pulling, running his fingers through her hair as it cascades down, letting her scrunchie rest on his wrist.

The need for Summer built and built and built in his body, and all his control and restraint snapped as she moaned.

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was finally under his touch.

Fucking finally.

He grips her hair at the base of her neck in his fist, uses it and pulls her head back so he can lick deeper into her insolent little mouth. He flips them as he goes, walking her backwards, pressing her into the locked door of the hall closet and covering her mouth with one of his hands, his other making its way back under her dress.

Mat parts her with his fingers, drawing her wetness as if it answered only to him - and he would make it answer to him - and she made this broken sound under his palm that had him resting his forehead against hers as he presses his body into her, and presses her further into the door.

“If you keep that shit up, making all those pretty noises, I’m not gonna last.” He breathes, removing his hand from her mouth only to kiss her again, to taste and swallow her moans as she made them now. He brought his now free hand down to her hip to keep her still, squeezing as the fingers against her pussy drew her wetness to her clit, where Mat began to rub gently.

“Do you want to come for me?” He asks, lips brushing against Summer’s as he speaks.

She nods, and he kisses her again, licking into her mouth, continuing to rub her in slow, firm circles.

“On my fingers?” Mat breathes. “Or on my cock?”

Before she can answer, he slips a finger inside, and feels his cock throb when it’s met with slick, tight, silken heat. She squeezes his finger as he begins to slowly pump, and with each push inside, it feels like her body’s trying to draw him in further, begging for more, more, please more.

He suddenly realizes with an awful sense of clarity that they won’t have enough time, enough privacy for him to be able to do everything he’d hoped to with her, and definitely not tonight. So he decides for them both, saying “My fingers, then,” when she doesn’t manage to answer him the more he curls his finger inside her.

Carefully, he adds another, feels her squeeze down and watches her eyes roll back in delight, a faint blush rising on her caramel skin. His hand that was on her hip comes out from under the skirt of her dress, only to play at the neckline of her dress, then tug it down, freeing her breasts, and Mat wastes no time in bending his head down and sucking a dusky nipple into his mouth, tongue running over her flesh greedily as he licked and lapped and sucked.

“Oh!” Summer cries out, her hands flying to his hair, gripping the strands between her fingers as her hips start to wind, riding his hand. He brings his thumb into the fray, rubbing circles as he fingers her, and at the squeeze of her cunt, he groans.

He switches to her other nipple, giving it the same attention as he murmured “Come for me, honey. Want you to come for me. Need it. Need you.”

“Yes!” Summer whines, breath coming out in short punches.

“Need you, need you, need you” he pleads against her lips, not afraid or caring that he was about two seconds away from basically begging.

Mat’s eyes flutter shut before he opens them again, deciding this moment was too good to pass up, that he’d waited too long for this to not look at Summer’s face as she came.

His eyes trailed up and his cock throbbed again.

Her eyes are screwed shut, tears trailing those beautiful cheeks as her head is thrown back, hair falling in beautiful ribbon curls over her shoulders, covering the tops of her breasts, running down her back as she moves her perfect body against his, those curves sending him into a trance as she winds her hips on his fingers.

Needy, and greedy, he slips a third finger inside of her, moaning as she suffocates them, his thumb rubbing her once, twice, three times before her pussy locks his fingers in a vice grip as she comes, the wet sounds echoing around them as Mat continues his assault.

He surges up, kissing her again to swallow her cries, his cock throbbing painfully when Summer begins to suck on his tongue, anchoring herself as her orgasm rides through her.

When she’s had enough, she reaches down, circling his wrist with her hand and squeezing firmly, signaling for him to stop. He does, slowing his ministrations before carefully pulling out of her a digit at a time, and when his fingers were free, he wastes no time before bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking a finger between his lips.

Summer watches with heavy lidded eyes as he tastes her, and he makes sure to suck it clean before he brings his other two fingers to her lips. Obediently, and compliant by orgasm, she sucks his fingers eagerly, tasting herself, and it takes Mat everything in him not to come in his pants at the sight.

He withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth, moaning at the taste of her on her tongue, and dirty fantasies start to play in his head.

Mat wants to be in a bed with her, touching, hands wandering all over, exchanging sloppy kisses for hours before he gets her on her knees, spits in her mouth, tongue her down then spit in it again before wrapping her hair in his grip, holding her chin as her messy lips parts, guiding it to his cock, stuffing himself down her throat -

They could do that. They could do that right now. All he had to do was get her out of this closet and down the hall to the guest room she was staying in and -

The sliding door of the kitchen opens loudly, someone mills about, and then the door closes again, its loud click reminding them of their limited time frame, lack of privacy, and obvious company.

Mat should have backed away, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept kissing Summer until their slow, languid kisses turned into soft pecks, and she pushed gently at his chest until he was at arm's length.

The distance, however short, made his blood run cold.

“We should - I should go.” Summer says. Her voice was hoarse, lips red from his love, and her body called to his again.

Her hair draped around her like a veil, her breasts still bared to him, nipples shiny from his mouth, and her dress slightly bunched up to the tops of her thighs, Summer looked every bit as sexy to him as the day he met her, only now, there was something about the glow of her skin that made it scream “mine” in Mat’s eyes.

“You should go back outside.” She continues when he says nothing. “They’ll be wondering where we are. And if whoever that was tells everyone else they didn’t hear us yelling at each other, they’ll be suspicious. Especially Sabrina and Anders.”

“Summer, we should -”

“I’ll go first. Then you go. You can say you had to go out front for some air. I’ll go to my room.”

He frowns, hard cock softening as reality sinks in.

She’s trying to run from you. The devil on his shoulder whispered. Don’t let her.

Too late.

Without another word, Summer adjusted her clothes, covering herself up and smoothing down her hair before she flipped the lock, opened the door, and sauntered off, leaving Mat standing there as his brain fought past the fog of desire and tried desperately to catch up.

When it did, he realized that despite feeling like he just took four steps forward with Summer, she shoved him back eight, and he didn’t know how to cross back over that distance without admitting all the things he kept buried inside.

He never actually hated her. Not really. She pushed and he pushed back - it’s how they’d always been.

But if Summer decided to pull instead of push one day, Mat was certain he’d go willingly, eagerly into her arms. And hadn’t he just done that?

He debates for a second that he might just disobey her, might go after her and finish what they started, and then wonders if it would be better if he snuck into the bathroom and jacked off.

He does neither of those things. Instead, he walks back out to join his teammates, friends, and their significant others in the backyard, trying to ignore the fact that he just had the girl of his dreams in his arms, and let her walk away.

So…that had happened.

Summer currently lay on her back, staring at her bedroom ceiling.

She’d been thankful that Sabrina didn’t think to ask twice when she’d said she’d be staying at her apartment “doing chores” instead of heading to Sabrina’s like normal. It was technically a Saturday where she’s supposed to be helping with wedding planning, but she didn’t want to risk it.

It being Mat undoubtedly showing up at their house and forcing Summer to confront her new apparent reality.

It had been a week since their little almost-sexcapade in Sabrina’s hall closet, and she couldn’t shake the memory of it no matter how hard she tried.

(If you could count reacquainting herself with her dildo and pretending it was Mat as trying.)

She’d been trying to get the feeling of him out of her mind, but she couldn’t. It was no use. Every time she closed her eyes, she could conjure the image of him as he kissed her, as he fingered her within an inch of her life, the way his eyes tracked her movements as she sucked herself off of his fingers before he’d claimed her mouth.

He’d kissed her, touched her, tasted her like he owned her, and Summer wasn’t sure if she liked it and should be wanting more, or if she should be concerned that she’d let him do any of that to her in the first place.

Of course Mat was handsome. She wasn’t blind.

It was just that…well, she thought he hated her.

Summer was under the impression that all of their back and forth had been a clear indication that he couldn’t stand her, wanted nothing to do with her, and thought of her the same way most men did.

Uninteresting. Not as pretty. Not worth it.

It made her confused. Made her start to rethink everything she thought she knew about him.

The night she got back from Sabrina’s after he’d taken her into the closet, she’d grabbed her phone, opened up Instagram, and looked through all of his activity. The comments, the reactions, all of it. While he may not have interacted with all of her stories, he’d watched them, every single one, and had to wonder…

Was that Mat…flirting? Or trying to?

No. No way. It couldn’t have been. She’d seen Mat flirt with countless women over the years she’d known him. What he did was not flirting.

Or…was it?

Summer let out another groan, flopping onto her stomach and deciding hiding herself away in her apartment and trying to figure this out on her own was going to be no use.

She got up, changing into a babydoll dress - to hell with pants - grabbing her purse and car keys to head to Buttercooky Bakery and Cafe.

Once she got there, she ordered her usual array of pastries and had them boxed up, so she could bring them to Sabrina’s house. If her sister decided to ask, Summer would just lie and say she finished up her chores early.

The only way to stop thinking about Mat was to fill her brain to capacity with something else, anything else.

Wedding planning should do the trick.

The team was playing Kan Jam in Anders’ back yard while Sabrina and the other significant others lounged inside.

Mat, usually one of the first ones to jump in and play, had been working out with Josh and Casey instead, trying desperately to focus on anything but the fact that the last time he’d set foot in this house, nearly a week ago, he’d defiled his captain’s future sister in law.

Well, partially defiled.

Still.

Summer’s nearly naked body plagued his mind every waking second of his day, and the only way he seemed to be able to get rid of it was when he needed to focus on something else.

Like right now - focusing on trying not to drop two hundred and fifty pounds of barbells on his chest as he bench pressed.

He keeps the count in his head, trying to focus on his breathing, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, when Josh tapped his shoulder from his spotter’s position, and Mat pushed up, allowing Josh to take the bar from him and set it back in place. Mat sat up carefully, accepting his water bottle from Casey before looking at Josh.

Josh wasn’t paying attention though, instead watching his wife through the open sliding door toward Sabrina and Anders’ kitchen, where Summer had apparently just arrived, a pastry box in tow and a small smile for her older sister.

Mat’s heart runs head first into his ribcage.

He feels the need in his body to go to her and pushes it down, instead tapping Josh on the side and gesturing toward the bench Mat was still sitting on. “Your turn, big guy.”

It was technically Casey’s turn to spot, but Mat took over, needing the distraction so he didn’t turn around to look at Summer, no matter how much he wanted to.

Later, when they finished their workout, and the rest of the guys finished their game of Kan Jam, they all took to the pool. Some of the significant others had come out to join them, swimming with the others, and when Mat didn’t spot Summer, he guessed that she’d probably just swung by to drop off pastries and then leave.

He feels it’s safe, so he grabs his bag and heads into the house, showering quickly in the guest bath down in the basement.

After he gets dressed and puts his shit away in his bag, he heads back up the stairs, fully intending to head to the backyard when he hears soft music, and he knows in his soul it’s Summer.

He follows the sound, trailing down the hallway that leads to the guest bedroom Anders and Sabrina designated as hers, not surprised to find her laying on the bed while soft music streams from the record player in the corner of the room.

She’s wearing a dress, her and her fucking dresses, hair fanned out around her on the covers, eyes open and staring at the ceiling while her mouth moves along silently to the words of the song.

Mat can feel a smart remark creeping up his throat - the usual way they greet each other - before he tamps it down, setting his bag down on the floor before he steps into the room, then shuts her bedroom door behind him softly, flicking the lock.

“Hi.” He says softly, trying not to startle her.

She turns her head to the side, expression seemingly blank as she stares at him. “Hi.”

God.

Mat swears he melts right there and then.

Her voice. All she’d said was a simple “hi” but it rang like tinkling bells in his head and he feels his hands twitch at his sides.

“Got a staring problem, thirteen?” She quips, but it doesn’t hold its usual attitude. There’s a cheeky smile that slowly breaks onto her face, and he finds himself moving forward, placing one knee on the bed.

To his surprise, she leans up, pushing up on her hands to sit up as he gets onto the bed on both knees.

She looks up at him, big brown eyes filled with expectation, and Mat, he can’t help it, he gives in.

“Been thinking about you.” He says, honestly, bringing his hands up to her face, brushing away some of the curls before just holding her cheeks in his palms.

She nods. “Me too.”

And that…that’s going to have to be enough.

He bends down, does it slowly enough to give Summer the room she needs to bail, to tell him “thanks for the orgasm!” and just leaves, reminding him that this isn’t what they do.

But she doesn’t.

She meets him halfway, her lips softly meeting his, hands coming up to rest on his forearms. It’s slow, languid, like honey dripping, and Mat revels in it. Loves the way that she lets him lead her as they kiss, lets him take control and take what he needs, what he wants from her with every movement of his lips, just take, take, take…

Mat feels her hands slowly trail down his arms, down his sides before she finds the hem of his shirt and dips her hands under it. They settle on his abdomen, and she runs her hands up and down before Mat feels her nails gently scratch down, and he shivers, pushing forward into her touch just a little more.

“Yeah?” She murmurs between kisses. Mat nods, and she does it again, digging her fingers in a little more that causes Mat to hiss a little, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Love your mouth.” He tells her, seizing it in another searing kiss that turns filthy the minute Summer lets her hands trail down his abdomen again and settles on the waistband of his sweats.

“My mouth?” She asks, voice teasing as her fingers start to dip below, and he drops one of his hands from her face to trap both her wrists in one grip, the other hand dropping to the hollow of her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her there, holds her gaze in his as his breathing quickens.

“Yes.” He answers. “Your insolent little mouth.”

A wicked gleam crosses her brown eyes, and Mat can feel her testing his limits - something she clearly doesn’t forget how to do. She hums, blinking a little in a way that has Mat tracking the slow movement of her eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks. He finds himself bending to kiss them, pressing his lips to one cheek, then the other, and drops both hands to help her wind her arms around him as he finally comes down on top of her.

She opens her legs to welcome his body between them, and he fits there easily, just as he’d hoped he would. She’s all soft - soft skin, soft embrace - as he brings his arms next to her, cradling her head in his hands so he can tangle his fingers in her hair, grip it tight to tilt her head back.

Just as he had before, the second her mouth opens to him as he starts to kiss her, he claims it, slipping his tongue between her lips, trying to gauge how far she’ll let him take this, take this moment, how far she’ll let him play with her.

He pulls back a little, figures he might be swinging for the fences, but he won’t know unless he tries.

Summer’s panting as she stares at him, waiting for him.

“Open your mouth.” He says. His voice is gentle, but it’s a command all the same.

Mat watches and feels his cock go rock solid when Summer’s eyes glaze over and she smiles slowly, syrupy, wicked, and then she slowly opens her mouth, tongue sticking out and all.

Holy fucking shit.

Mat can’t breathe. He purses his lips, watches as his spit trails from his mouth into hers, onto her tongue, and then that beautiful tongue disappears as her mouth closes. He watches her swallow, and then the little fucking devil has the nerve to say “Thank you.”

He can’t contain himself anymore. Anything in him that demanded they take this moment slow fucking vaporizes when he surges forward again, fist tightening in her hair as he holds her face to his in a dirty, sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

He starts to move his hips, grinding into the warm, familiar heat between the apex of her thighs, those beautiful legs bracketing his sides, and her hands travel to his ass, squeezing his cheeks while pulling him closer to her, tilting her hips up to meet his thrusts.

Christ.

He hadn’t done this in…well…ever. He’d never been fully clothed, grinding desperately against a girl, about ten seconds from coming in his pants from kissing and spit play and

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” Mat demands against her mouth, and he trails his kisses to the side, kissing the corner of her mouth, her chin, cheek, jaw, and he brings his lips to her neck, leaving slow kisses, gentle kisses that quickly turn to nips when she lines them up, his cock right where she must need him to be, and moves her hips up and down, guiding their friction.

He sucks the skin of her neck in his mouth hard, laving it with his tongue while she whines beneath him. One of her hands flies up to cup the back of his head, her fingers combing between the strands and gripping it, the other digging her nails into his ass cheek with a vice grip.

“Take what you need.” Mat says against her neck. “Take it, take it, take it…”

She nods furiously, and Mat bends his head, sucking another mark into her neck, freeing one hand from her curls and bringing it to her breasts, tugging the neckline of her dress down and gripping one of her breasts in his hand, pinching her nipple between his fingers.

Summer cries out, and Mat brings his lips back to hers to swallow it, lets her kiss him messily before he brings his hands to her hips, taking over, guiding them and giving her what she needs.

He’s learned her rhythm at this point, and had been paying attention in the back of his mind at her breaths, her movements, where she needed him to be and what made her get closer and closer to that beautiful orgasm.

“I’ve got you, beautiful.” He promises. “I’ve got you.”

“Need more.” Summer pleads, trailing her hand between them. Mat tracks her hand as it goes, watches it dip down and under the hem of her dress to her black lace panties that have been moved to the side in their grinding.

His hips stutter slightly at the sight of her bare pussy almost fully exposed to him. The mauve of the lips of her mouth match the mauve of the lips of her pussy, her pussy which is shining with the wetness of her arousal. He’d had it wrapped around his fingers, knew how good it felt, but at the minute, he demanded to know how good it tasted.

Mat began to rise up on his arms, fully intended to scoot down the bed and throw those beautiful caramel thighs over his shoulder and drink his fill, but Summer caught him, pulled his face down to hers with a shake of her head. “Need you now.” She pleads, kissing him again. “Please.”

There was a part of him that went to protest, but then her hand dipped beneath his waistband and wrapped around his cock, and Mat felt a groan leave his mouth as he settled his body atop hers once more.

“Please.” She says again, urging him to start moving. It took him a second, but he found the rhythm she needed.

His cock, freed from his pants that he’d shoved around his thighs, sliding up and down against her bare pussy, fucking up into the grip of her hands while they kissed, sloppy, messy, desperate.

Summer was moaning into his mouth now, his name a prayer on her lips between kisses, and Mat felt it, felt the way her body began to seize, began to shake and tremble and he felt like he could cry with relief.

“Please baby.” He begs. “Come for me. Wanna see you come for me again.”

She cried out, tears springing from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. The devil inside him rose up in Mat and he leaned down a little more, licking her tears from her skin. It must have spoken to her devil, because then she gripped his chin in her hand and kissed him, her tongue seeking his to taste her tears.

“You’re going to fucking kill me.” He murmurs, and it makes Summer laugh before she moans again, desperate as her hips work faster, climbing closer and closer to her orgasm.

Mat focuses on the softness of her hand, the wetness of her pussy he can feel against him and his eyes screw shut. “Please Summer, please, I need you to -”

“Yes Mat,” she says, “Yes yes yes yes yes…”

Her hips move and move and move, and when she begins to come, begins to shake under his body, he pushes forward into her hand the moment her hips cant up, and instead of gliding against her pussy when she brings her hips back down, the head of his dick catches against her entrance, and she pushes him inside, bare cock to her bare pussy, he's inside, and it sends Mat careening over the edge of a cliff and into his own orgasm full force.

Summer’s hand disappears from between them as Mat drops the full weight of his body on hers, his hands on her hips as he pumps inside her, coming and emptying his load into her awaiting cunt.

“Oh my god,” she moans out, hands circling around his neck as she winds her hips, riding out their orgasms together.

It’s not enough. The squeeze of her pussy, the wetness from her orgasm dripping down his cock and onto his balls, the way her body seems to invite him deeper inside of her.

Mat continues his assault, pounding his hips and placing his hands on the backs of her thighs, opening her up for him so he can fuck her deeper. His cock is sensitive, but he can feel the need, can feel that her little fucking stunt wasn’t enough, that he still has more to give her.

“You’re a goddamn maniac.” He curses, watching his dick tunnel in and out of her. “A goddamn nightmare.”

Summer cries out his name, and his eyes flash up to hers, capturing her gaze. “Please,” she begs sweetly, and he has half a mind to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until she tells him “thank you” again.

She’s a fucking demoness. The devil on his shoulder praises. She’d let you do it.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He says instead, says again. She does as he asks, no slow preamble about it, and he spits into her awaiting mouth, kissing her before she can close it. He brings one hand from her thigh to rest on her throat in warning, pulling back to say “Now swallow it, you fucking brat.”

She does, opening her mouth to show him, sticking her tongue out. He sucks it into his mouth before kissing her again, squeezing her throat when he says “Good fucking girl.”

He pushes up, placing his hand back on her thigh as he continues to fuck into her, chasing his second orgasm.

It comes when Summer does, for the second time, without warning as she squeezes down on him, her body pulsing and legs shaking beneath his touch. Mat feels her arousal drip down him again and he’s coming with a long groan, pressing deep inside of Summer.

He drops down again, pressing kisses to her neck, her cheek, working his way back to her lips where she meets him eagerly, and he lets her thighs go, her legs immediately wrapping around him and making it clear she doesn’t want him to leave anytime soon.

As if he fucking could. As if he wanted to. Nothing could take him away from her now.

“Gonna roll us on our side, okay?” He says, voice a little hoarse. Summer nods, moving with him as he goes. He hikes up the leg that’s on top of him a little higher, making it easier for him to remain inside her.

As his hands creep under her dress and trail up the soft, round slope of her belly, Mat smiles when Summer giggles a little, clearly ticklish.

They stare at one another, smiles in their eyes.

Holy shit.

Had he hoped for another moment like this with Summer? Of course! Did he think it’d happen today? No.

Had he hoped for it? Still yes.

Eventually, he does pull out, and they trail into the bathroom in Summer’s room to clean up a little bit. When they’re done, he follows her back out to her room and they resume their position laying on their sides, legs tangled together as they stare at one another.

“Don’t run away.” He finds himself saying, knows there’s a ‘please’ in there he’s not saying, but one she can certainly hear.

She shakes her head, reaching out with her fingers to brush his lips. “I won’t.” She promises, watches as Mat takes her fingers and kisses the tips of each one before bringing it to rest on his chest.

Part of him is happy. Happy and sated. The other is mildly alarmed that he had the balls to fuck Summer, his captain’s future younger sister in law, in his captain’s house, less than a week after he fingered her in the hall closet of the same house.

Men had been castrated over a lot less.

“What does this mean?” Summer asks, hesitation in her tone.

It should scare Mat. Questions like that usually do, but with Summer, it doesn’t.

He shrugs. “It means I might actually like you a little bit, you fucking brat.”

There’s a pause, and Mat chances a look at her to see if she’s taken it the wrong way, but she merely blinks at him, and then laughs, laughs light and loud and Mat’s laughing along with her, their laughter filling their bellies and the room until there’s happy tears leaking from Summer’s eyes.

“I think I can live with that.” She finally says. The expression on her face reads satisfaction, and he thinks he’d do anything she wanted if it meant he could keep that look on her face.

He liked knowing he put it there in the first place.

They fell into a comfortable silence, letting the record player continue crooning whatever vinyl Summer had put on before he’d come in here and…well…taken her for himself.

Mat watched Summer’s beautiful face closely, watched her breathing even out, and felt like he could fall asleep right here, tangled together with her in the soft glow of her room.

That is, until incessant knocking rained down on her door, and Sabrina’s indignant voice rang out.

“Mat Barzal! You’d better explain why you’ve locked yourself in my sister’s room!”

More thunderous knocking, and Mat reaches out, securing Summer and relaxing her when it makes her wince.

“I know you’re in there!” Sabrina exclaims. “Your bag is in the hall, you fucking asshole!”

“You’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Anders calls out next, and they can’t help it.

Summer and Mat burst out laughing again.

“Is it just sex then? Or is there more?” Sabrina asks Summer, hours later. The sun’s been gone and there’s a fire going in their pit. They’re laying on the lounge chairs by the pool. The rest of the crowd still lingers, some in the hot tub near the edge of the yard, others coming in and out of the house.

“I don’t know,” Summer says honestly. “That’s the…second? Technically second, time we’ve done it.”

“Does the sex make you hate him less?

“I mean, the sex doesn’t hurt.”

Sabrina laughs at that, and as it dies down, considers her sister for a second.

It makes Summer uncomfortable, so she lets out a small nervous laugh, asking “What?”

Sabrina shakes her head a little. “I just…I feel like I partially expected this, but I also didn’t, but it makes sense. I think you’d be good together.”

Summer shrugs, aloof. “Maybe. Who knows? We’re just…hanging out.” That’s technically half true. All they’d done so far was…well, kind of fuck. And then fuck.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Sabrina teases, then reaches out, grabbing Summer’s hand and squeezing. “I’m just kidding. I mean it. If you’re cool with…whatever it is you two are doing, then I support you. But just remember it doesn’t mean I won’t stop looking out for you.”

“I know,” Summer promises, then looks across the yard to find Anders and Mat engaged in what looks to be a heated conversation, and Summer can only guess it’s similar to the one she and Sabrina just had.

Anders levels Mat with a Captainly look. “I’m telling you not to take this risk. This whole ‘I hate you but now I like you’ risk. And especially not with Summer.”

Mat scoffs, spotting her watching him from across the yard and shoots her a shit eating grin, wiggling his fingers in a small, hopefully reassuring wave. It seems to work, and Summer goes back to speaking to Sabrina.

He rounds on his captain, eyes narrowed. “Fuck off, okay? I know she’s gonna be your sister in law or whatever, but you don’t have anything to worry about. What we’re doing is casual. It’s a mutually beneficial transactional relationship.”

At least, he thinks it is. They hadn’t technically addressed that.

His captain narrows his gaze. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“Anders-”

“I mean it, Mat. If you’re not serious about her, leave her alone. You saw the shit she went through with Will. I’m not saying you’re anything like him, but she can’t go through that again. And whether you want to admit it or not, there’s something between the two of you, and if it goes wrong, it’s going to be really, really bad.”

“It won’t.” Mat insists.

Even as the devil on his shoulder whispers "It might."

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