Take Me Home

Chapter 15 - Late Night Confessions

Matt lay next to Vixey on the bed, his arm around her waist as the morning sun filtered through the curtains. The previous day had been an emotional whirlwind, visiting his brother's grave, a raw wound that had yet to heal. But today, he wanted to make things right, to cherish every moment with the woman he loved deeply but couldn't entirely claim as his own.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, turning her head to look into his eyes.

Matt gave her a small, sad smile. "I'm better now, thanks to you. I needed yesterday, but today, I just want to be here with you."

She nodded, leaning into his chest, feeling his heartbeat match hers. The two of them spent most of the day in a cocoon of warmth and affection, reading old books, sharing stories, and simply basking in each other's presence. As the sun began its descent, Matt suggested they shake off the melancholia by heading out for the night.

"I found this little club," he said, flashing a grin. "It's small and cozy, perfect for us to just let loose and forget the world for a bit."

The dimly lit club was already buzzing with life when Matt and Vixey walked in. It was adorned with colorful lights pulsating to the beat of lively music. They found a cozy spot at the bar, ordered a couple of drinks, and settled down, allowing the enthusiastic ambiance to wash over them.

Matt's laughter, bright and uninhibited, filled her heart with an inexplicable happiness. The burden and complexities of our present reality seemed to fade into the background amidst the clinking glasses and rhythmic tunes.

After a couple of drinks, they made their way to the dance floor, where they joined the throng of others. Matt seem to revel in the joy on Vixey's face as they moved together seamlessly, losing themselves in the symphony of music and motion. For a brief moment, everything felt extraordinarily perfect. No worries. No inhibitions. Just them and the euphoria of the night. But then, Matt felt the need to excuse himself for a moment, possibly to get another round of drinks or perhaps just to catch his breath and take it all in.

In Matt's short absence, a male approached Vixey on the dance floor. His presence was immediately unsettling, and he invaded her personal space without any semblance of respect. The male practically pressed his body against hers in a manner that was both rude and aggressive. She tried to push him away, but he persisted. Just as it seemed she might have to resort to drastic measures, Matt returned.

All thoughts of calm vanished in an instant as he took in the scene before him. His usually placid demeanor was replaced by a storm of anger. He approached the intruder in long, furious strides and, without hesitation, punched him squarely in the face.

The club's atmosphere froze as quickly as it erupted into chaos. Others gasped and began stepping back, creating a wide-eyed circle around the unfolding confrontation. The male, stunned by Matt's sudden assault, staggered back, but Matt's fury didn't let him off the hook. He launched at him once more, pummeling the man who had dared to disrespect her.

The security personnel quickly intervened, dragging the male away and separating Matt from him. Amidst the ruckus, Matt didn't notice the deep cut on his forehead until her worried voice broke through the haze of his rage.

"Matt, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed, her eyes filled with concern. Vixey gently took his arm and led him out of the club, away from the noise and the drama, back to the sanctuary of his apartment.

Once inside, she guided Matt to the bathroom, her hands trembling slightly as she rummaged through the cabinet for the first aid kit. She gently cleaned the wound on his forehead and dabbed antiseptic on it, her eyes never leaving his. For Matt, her touch was soothing, a balm not just for the physical hurt but for the turmoil raging within him.

With the bandage now over his forehead, Matt's gratitude towards her swelled into something far deeper. Words were inadequate to express what he felt, but he knew he had to try. The vulnerability of the moment stripped away all pretenses, and before he knew it, the truth spilled from his lips.

"Vixey," he began hesitantly, "I have to tell you something. It's been on my mind ever since we met. I— I may have feelings for you. Strong feelings. Like I want to be with you, no matter what."

Her eyes widened at his confession. Heart pounded in her chest as she absorbed his words. Vixey could say she had feelings for Matt too, had known for some time now, but the shadow of Lance lingered over her like a dark cloud. Matt was too sincere, too genuine for her to keep up the facade.

"I feel the same, Matt," she admitted, her voice shaking. "But Lance... he owns me. If he ever found out, it wouldn't end well. For either of us."

It was then that Matt had a sudden realization, his mind working furiously to find a solution. "What if we kept it a secret?" he proposed, his voice earnest and filled with hope. "We can be together without Lance ever knowing. We can be discreet."

Vixey hesitated, considering the considerable risks involved. Yet, Matt's sincerity and the pull of her own feelings made it impossible to deny the possibility that maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.

"All right," she finally agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can try. But only if we promise to be careful. For both our sakes."

Matt nodded earnestly, relief and joy flooding through him. "I promise. We're in this together."

The air was filled with an electric tension as they sealed the agreement with a soft, lingering kiss, a secret pact forged away from prying eyes and judgment. As their lips met, time seemed to stand still, and she could feel the depth of emotion behind the tender embrace. As their embrace lingered for a few moments, they reluctantly parted, only for Matt to surprise her by pulling her back in for another deep kiss. He appeared to be on the verge of losing control, as if his inner primal instincts were urging him to emerge and assert his bond with his partner.

Vixey draw away from the kiss, savoring every moment as she leaned in and rested her forehead against his. Her breaths come in slowly, and it feels as though each one has been stolen away, leaving her with a sense of longing and desire. His golden eyes locked with hers, and a surge of heat coursed through her, causing the fur on the back of her neck to stand on end as if it were engulfed in flames.

"Vixey..." As he spoke, his voice was soft, yet carried a husky quality that was impossible to ignore. She could feel the warmth of his hand as it gently came to rest on her thigh, sending a tingle of anticipation through her. The way he pronounced her name made her shiver, as if each syllable held a distinct power over her.

Vixey's cheeks grew warm as she stammered, "Y-yes Matt?" Her heart raced with anticipation, wondering what he would say next.

He fell silent for a moment, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was having second thoughts about the situation. However, that notion quickly dissipated when he gently lifted her up in a bridal style embrace and tenderly carried her to his bedroom, his eyes filled with warmth and lust.

She felt the soft, cool sheets beneath her as Matt's hands gently but firmly guided her down onto the bed. His strength was evident, yet there was a tenderness in his touch that sent shivers down her spine. As he climbed over her their bodies aligned, and Vixey could feel the heat radiating from him. His face hovered just inches above hers, and it was then that I noticed the subtle pink tint on his cheeks. It wasn't just the exertion of passion; it was vulnerability.

"I need you, Vixey," he whispered, his voice low and urgent.

The word 'need' hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. It was a stark contrast to the usual 'want' or 'desire' she had heard before. This was deeper, more personal. Her heart fluttered in response, a mix of surprise and desire coursing through her.

Slowly, she lifted her hands to his cheeks, feeling the warmth of his skin against her palms. His eyes locked onto hers, searching, waiting for her response. With a softness that mirrored his own, she whispered back, "I need you too."