He sank into her kiss like a thirsty man diving into cold, clear water. Her plump lips moved over his, parted for him, and he groaned. Burying his hand in her thick mass of hair and sliding the other one over the curve of her hip to her waist, under her shirt, he anchored her to him.
Grace wriggled until she straddled his lap. Full breasts pressed into him. Her nipples were heated points of desire arrowed right at his crotch. The heat of her core soaked through the denim of his jeans and she arched against him with eye-crossing enthusiasm. His brain short-circuited. Two seconds later she was flat on her back on the couch.
He cupped her breast, the thick fabric of her sports bra frustrating him. She moaned softly and sucked his lower lip into her mouth. Erection pulsating, he yanked her bra up and rocked against her pelvis. Palming her bare breast, the hard nub of her nipple pressed into the center of his hand. Had to be as close to heaven as a guy could get. She swiveled her hips. A hair’s breadth away from humiliating himself, he levered up on his arms.
“Grace.”
With a soft, feminine sound of need, she reached down and cupped him through his pants. His vision blurred. Damn. He locked his elbows, dropped his chin and endured her exploration.
So help him, if she discovered…and then she did. Grace rubbed her thumb over the exposed tip of his cock. Matt fisted handfuls of couch cushion, desperate for control. His hips jerked and a drop of pre-cum pearled at her touch. She leisurely spread the moisture around the sensitive tip. His lungs seized. An X-rated film played behind his eyelids, starring Grace. In the movie version, she wriggled down and replaced her wandering fingers with her mouth.
Swearing, he surged off the couch. Forearms braced against the far wall, he dropped his head and tried to steady his breathing and pounding heart. After all she’d been through tonight, this was not the time. Nor was it how he wanted their relationship to progress. Think about…Grandma Rose and Grandpa Edie doing it. He flinched. Damn, that was nasty. The intense pressure eased and he was able to draw a full breath.
Grace’s hands smoothed up his back, right up the column of his spine. Desire slammed him down to the mat for the count. The muscles in his shoulders knotted.
“Matt? Did I do something wrong?”
Vulnerability coated her voice. He was an ass. “No, baby. You did everything right, believe me.”
“Then why are you over here?”
Forcing his body back under control, he turned to face her. He ached to touch her, to hold her, but didn’t trust himself. He crossed his arms. “This isn’t the right time. I got carried away. I apologize. I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”
Clouds must have covered the moon, because the room went black as pitch. The scuff of her shoe and the lessening of her scent told him of her withdrawal as surely as if he’d seen it.
When she spoke again her voice had cooled. “I see. Well, I’m sure it’s safe now. You can go. I’m sorry for getting you out of bed.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Excuse me?”
He’d watched her every expression for so many months, he could easily picture her face right now. An inscrutable expression, cracked ever so slightly by a tightening around her lips and a tiny narrowing of her eyes. Her gaze would be nailing his ass to the wall. If he could see her. Unwilling to miss the hot spark of irritation in her green eyes after seeing her so pale and frightened, he flipped on the overhead light. Which didn’t quite work out as planned, since Grace squeaked in protest and slapped a hand over her eyes. Hand still over her eyes, Grace turned in his direction. “What do you mean?”
Sounded like she was gritting her teeth.
Matt grinned, glad she couldn’t see him. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
Her hands came down to fist on her hips and he was treated to a full-on glare. “Funny.” Her tone was chilly enough to freeze tap water. “I don’t recall inviting you to sleep over.”
Hot enough to singe his eyebrows one minute, cold enough to shrivel his balls the next. Fascinated, he leaned against the wall. “I don’t recall asking.”
“No, you didn’t. And since you’re standing in my home, that seems to be a requirement you’ve overlooked.”
“I didn’t overlook anything and I’m not leaving. This guy has already gotten in once while you were sleeping and I doubt you’ve had the locks rekeyed.”
She paled and dropped her gaze. No longer amused, he straightened from the wall. “Just tell me where an extra blanket is. I won’t bother you, I promise.”
“That’s not…I wasn’t…” Grace made a sharp gesture with her hand. “Look, Matt. I appreciate the old-fashioned chivalry and all, but I don’t need a babysitter. Even if I did, which I don’t, my couch isn’t big enough for you. You’d be miserable.”
After their make-out session he’d be miserable no matter where he slept. “I’ll survive. Blanket?”
Frustration evident in every elegant curve, she shoved a hand into the curly mass of hair at her temple and glared. He glared back. She heaved a sigh and stomped into her bedroom. A few minutes later, she reemerged with a blanket and pillow in hand. She gestured toward the bedroom.
“You use the bed. I’ll fit better on the couch.”
With a snort, he shook his head. “Not gonna happen, sweetheart. So just march your little tush back in there.” Deliberately, he loomed over her and leered. “I’d be happy to help you.”
Instead of the annoyance he’d expected, her dark lashes dropped to half-mast and she fairly purred in invitation. His cock went rock hard between one heartbeat and the next, eager to accommodate. Giving his hormones a stern lecture on taking advantage of emotionally vulnerable women, he placed a hand at the small of her back and steered her toward her room.
“Goodnight, Grace.”
In the doorway, she turned and swept him with a heated look. A look that lingered on the erection straining his crotch. She pursed her lips. His cock twitched. A Mona Lisa smile curved her mouth, and she slipped into the room and closed the door. Which was what he wanted, damnit, even if the rest of him would happily sit up and beg to be taken to bed with her.
Matt flipped off the light and gingerly sat on the couch. Bending over to undo his laces wasn’t an option, so he started to wedge them off with his feet. Then remembered his truck parked in the middle of the parking lot. Any number of people would be royally pissed in a few hours if he didn’t move it.
“Grace?” He rose his voice to be heard through the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to move my truck.”
“There’s a key beside the door, on the little table.”
He snagged it on his way out. The cold night air went a long way toward easing his arousal, thankfully. Sleeping with a hard-on wasn’t something he’d been looking forward to. Not like he could take care of it with Grace on the other side of the wall.
His interior truck light was on. He had hit the remote as he ran to Grace’s apartment earlier. He remembered hearing the answering beep from the horn as the alarm set. What the hell?
A quick survey of his surroundings revealed nothing. He circled the truck. The doors were closed. Nothing was scratched or showed signs of tampering. Yet the light inside shone like a beacon.
Matt tried the door. Locked. A press of his finger to the remote released it and he opened the door. The instant dinging to remind him the interior light was on sounded overloud in the quiet night, and he glanced around again. If someone had sabotaged his truck, they had probably stuck around to giggle over the discovery of their handiwork. He checked the doors, under and around the seats, then climbed behind the wheel and started the truck.
A white piece of paper, jagged around the edges, lay on his dashboard. He craned his neck to read it.
Nice truck, asshole.
She belongs to me.
Stay away from her and keep your hands off
or I’ll start taking things that belong to you.
White-knuckling the steering wheel in an attempt to control his temp
er, he read the note several times, committing it to memory, then pulled out his cell phone. Grace might have justifiable compunctions about calling the police, but he didn’t. If this dick-wad wanted to jerk him around, he’d better come armed for bear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Grace paced her living room. A glimpse at her clock tightened her belly another notch. Matt had been gone an hour. One whole hour to move his truck. If not for her earlier experience, she’d have left thirty minutes ago to find out what the heck was going on.
Especially when the eerily silent flash of blue and red lights entered the parking lot. A look through her windows had revealed nothing. A giant oak tree blocked her view of most of the parking area, a fact she’d appreciated until tonight. Nibbling on her nails, she made another sweep of the room. Nothing would be left of the manicure on her left hand soon.
The lock rattled and she ran to the door, pressing her eye to the security peephole. Relief weakened her knees, but anger burned on its heels. Mumbling beneath her breath, she wrenched the door open and glared at Matt. If fury had power, he would be nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor.
“Uh…hello.” He eyed her. “Guess I should have let you know what was going on. I hoped you were asleep.”
She smiled sweetly. “Yes, you should have. And no, I’m obviously not asleep. After my experience tonight, knowing you were out there alone, sleep was the very last thing on my mind.”
“I’m sorry.” He edged past her, cautious as a lion tamer minus his whip inside the lion cage. “Could we continue this discussion inside? I’d hate to disturb any of your neighbors.”
“My. How considerate of you.” If her smile stretched a little thin, was that her fault?
Shutting the door, he surveyed the brightly lit condo before returning his attention to her. She greeted his delinquent gaze with raised brows and saccharine sweetness.
“Your friend left a little note in my truck. I called the police. I wasn’t in any danger. I’m sorry you were worried.”
Her anger drained away. “What did it say?”
“Just some crap about staying away from you.” He shrugged as if it were nothing. “I gave it to the police.”
Her shoulders slumped and she glanced at the clock. 1:00am. “I have to…we have to work in the morning, so I need to get whatever sleep I can at this point.” She nibbled her lip, glancing at him hesitantly. “Thank you for coming, Matt. Do you need anything?”
“I’m good. And again, sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s okay. Good night.”
“Night.”
In her room, Grace climbed into bed. The down pillow welcomed her and soft sheets encased her. She should have slid easily into sleep’s embrace, yet she lay staring at the wall.
He’d left a note for Matt. Inside his truck. Matt was now in danger because of her. Hell would freeze over before she let some psycho freak dictate her love life. She might kick him to the curb because his bossiness pushed her too far, but not because of some random loser stalker freak.
Grace flipped the ham and mushroom omelet half a second before it blackened. Hopefully Matt liked well-done eggs. The sound of the shower running in the other room had her distracted to the point of oblivion. Instead of watching the cooking food, she kept picturing Matt naked, water sluicing over rock-hard abs, muscles bunching and flexing as he shampooed and soaped. She groaned aloud. At this rate, she’d have to change her panties before she left for work.
The water shut off and a new image sprang to mind. Water droplets beaded on taut skin, the soft towel rubbing across all those yummy parts she wanted to rub up against like a cat. Too late to save her panties, she at least attempted to rescue the omelet. She snatched a plate out of the cupboard and slid the omelet from skillet to dish. A door opened and she flew into a whirlwind of motion. Filled mugs of coffee, dumped chopped fruit next to the omelets, and snagged forks. She winced as the plates landed on the breakfast bar with a graceless clatter.
Matt sauntered out of her bedroom. She swallowed hard and grabbed the bottle of flavored creamer out of the fridge. The cool air felt good on her flushed skin. She paused, pretending to search for something.
Anything to stop herself from tackling him and ripping off his clothes. Liquid arousal gathered between her legs. She slammed the door closed with more force than necessary, disgusted. A restless night spent tossing and turning to the tune of erotic dreams didn’t excuse her hyper-active libido.
Straightening her shoulders, she sent her hormones airmail to Perdition and faced Matt. He lounged against the bar with negligent grace, watching her with the eyes of a hungry predator. Hard to be cool, calm, and collected when faced with that first thing in the morning.
Grace forced a smile. “Good morning.” She set the creamer on the counter, remaining safely on her side of the half wall. “Sleep well?”
“Fine, thanks. How about you?”
“Like a log,” she lied without qualm.
“Good. Breakfast smells delicious, but you really didn’t have to go to the trouble.”
“Please.” Her cheeks were starting to ache from her determined smile. “It was the least I could do after you endured a night on my couch playing knight-errant.”
Matt’s dimple winked at her and the panty dampening resumed.
“Knight-errant, hmm? I didn’t realize you were a romantic.”
“I’m not.” There went his smile. Pity. “Sit down and eat your food.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He obediently sat on a bar stool and picked up his fork, then glanced from the other plate of food to her. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Grace eyed the food. Reluctant as she was to be in close proximity to him, she couldn’t very well slide the plate back across the counter. That would be far too revealing. “Of course.”
Rounding the counter, she sat on the bar stool next to Matt. Oh. My. Word. Her olfactory senses went into overdrive, her vaginal muscles clenched and her nipples pebbled. How on earth did a man smelling of her soap turn her on to the point of pain? She was a freak of nature.
Swallowing with some difficulty, she snatched the creamer and dumped some into her coffee cup. “I hope you like ham and mushrooms in your omelet. It was all I had.”
“My favorite. It’s good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She shoved a bite of omelet into her mouth and barely managed to choke it down. A swallow of coffee helped unclog her throat. “So. What’s on your schedule today?”
“I’ll be at the Eagle Road jobsite all morning. I have meetings with contractors. Back at the office around one or so, after lunch with Brian McKenzie.”
Ugh. Brian McKenzie was the superintendent on the jobs and had been for the last five years. He’d been a busy, busy boy during those years, working his way through every woman in the office—single and otherwise. Smooth to the point of oily, he did nothing for her.
“And you?”
She hid an eye roll behind her large coffee mug, before remembering they were doing the polite chitchat thing and pretending they hadn’t made out like teenagers last night. Maybe he was having better luck with that.
Peeking over the rim of her cup, she met the blazing intensity of his dark eyes and her face heated. Then again, maybe not. If he kept the ‘Let’s screw like wild animals’ look on his face much longer, she’d be forced to oblige.
“Grace?”
Like the coward she was, she ducked back behind her coffee cup. “Uhm-hmm?”
“Are you feeling better today?”
“Better than what?”
“Better than last night.”
“Well, yeah.” She grinned. “The light of day demolishes all sorts of things that go bump in the night, don’t ya know.” The brown of his eyes deepened. Her skin prickled with heat. She resisted the urge to fan herself. “Why?”
“Because if you’re back to yourself, there’s no reason why we can’t finish what we started last night.”
Grace’
s eyes widened. To her dismay, she couldn’t even summon a response.
“Not right now, of course.”
No? But she was embarrassingly ready.
Matt leaned closer and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “We have to go to work and I intend to take my time. Then, just in case we don’t get it right the first time, I plan on doing it again.”
Again? Her tongue darted out to moisten her lip and encountered Matt’s thumb instead. Holding his stare, she sucked his thumb into her mouth and wrapped her tongue around it. A flush darkened his cheekbones and his gaze dropped to her mouth.
“As many times as it takes,” he murmured.
Oh, wow. She really would have to change her panties. Matt hooked a finger in the waistband of her skirt and tugged her close. He popped his finger free and took her mouth in a consuming, fiery kiss. Body humming and ready to go—to bed—she moaned. Instead of hauling her off to the bedroom, he pulled away. Not later, now.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned when she latched onto his shirt. “I have to run home and change before my meeting.”
Pouting and not real proud of it, she released him.
“Fine.” Her lower lip wanted to stick out, so she sucked it into her mouth instead.
Matt rubbed a thumb over her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers. “I promise, tonight you’ll have my full, undivided attention. Not only that, today is Friday. I’m yours for the weekend.”
He did know how to soothe ruffled feathers. The whole weekend. A girl could get carried away with so many days of decadent indulgence spread before her. She grabbed her purse, mentally writing a very special shopping list.
They walked out to the parking lot together. Another brain-cell-searing kiss rendered her lips tingly before she climbed into her car. Along with other body parts she tried hard not to think about.
At the office, her high heels ricocheted inside the concrete-lined basement-parking garage. The cold crept inside her jacket and she shivered. For the first time, the place creeped her out, and she regretted parking so far from the elevator.
Dying for Love Page 11