#carters-things

“You always look so good in that suit,” you stated, stretching your bare legs under Matt’s satin sheets, watching him fix his jacket.

“It’s why I put it on today,” Matt smiled, his eyes settling on your silhouette, “because I know you like it so much, and I knew you’d be up to watch me get ready.”

“Oh no, Matty, I don’t just like it,” you said, your voice taking a sultry tone as you slipped out of his bed, his lips twitching into a smirk as he heard you speak and felt you move towards him, “it makes me want to rip it right off of you.”

Matt inhaled sharply at your words, his palms grasping at your waist. Your skin burnt at his touch, the thin fabric of his t-shirt doing very little to create a barrier.

“I’m going to be late,” Matt whispered, his lips a hair away from yours as you pushed up on the tips of your toes to meet him halfway.

“Shouldn’t have picked this suit,” you whispered to him, wrapping your fingers around the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling him down to press his lips against yours.

“Fuck,” Matt breathed, letting his fingers travel up the hem of his t-shirt that you wore, “Foggy’s going to be pissed.”