Caveman: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Jo Raven

  A past I thought interested no one, until now. A past I had never spared a thought for, a girl I’ve never felt anything for.

  A tragedy I never foresaw.

  But you never foresee that shit. It strikes out of nowhere, without warning. Just when you think the storm is over and you can breathe again, life grabs you and rattles you until your teeth shake loose.

  Disease, accidents, death.

  Love.

  You never see it coming.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Octavia

  Relapse.

  That’s what they call it when you’ve take a step forward and two steps back, right? Backsliding.

  Matt is backsliding. He’s turning back into the distant, brooding guy I met when I first knocked on his door. His gaze is wild and bloodshot, his hair a snarled mess, his powerful shoulders tense, his words clipped.

  He’s pushing me away again. It’s as if the attack on me hit him harder than it did me. Which makes no sense.

  Except… He lost his wife. And this stalker is leaving threatening messages on his doorstep and then attacking me. He’s probably worried about his kids.

  Still.

  It’s been two days since the attack, and he looks the worse for wear, his eyes ringed with black, his scent carrying that faint chemical tang it had when I first met him.

  What is he taking?

  I’ve arrived twenty minutes early because I was too restless and woke up at the crack of dawn. I barely slept a wink, in fact, because Merc went out last night, and although he sent a text message not to wait up, I was worried.

  And now I’m worried again because I’ve rung the doorbell three times, but no reply.

  I ring again, and the moment the door opens, I know something is seriously off.

  Matt stares at me as if he can’t remember who I am. It makes me want to cry. Makes me want to pummel my fists on his muscular chest that’s bare and spectacular, the dark tattoos winding over powerful muscles, over his defined pecs and strong ribcage and the bulging biceps in his arms.

  Makes me want to hug him.

  But he only mutters something I can’t make out under his breath and steps aside, letting me in.

  We have to talk. He has to tell me what’s on his mind. I have a feeling he’s holding himself responsible for what happened to me, and I can’t let him do that. The psycho who grabbed me isn’t Matt’s responsibility. He doesn’t need another cross to bear.

  And I need to know if this is what it is, this distance between us, or if he’s changed his mind. If he decided this was it between us, some sex, some intense moments, and then nothing.

  No good morning, no how are you today? No smile for me, and no emotion in his dark eyes.

  It’s unbelievable how much it hurts. How much it scares me—even more than the attack. The attack was like a natural disaster, it hit me and was gone, but this… This will leave a scar.

  “Matt.” He’s already walking away from me, toward the kitchen, and I follow his hulking form, adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder, my heart hammering. “Wait.”

  He’s banging through cupboards, obviously looking for something.

  He stops, slams his fist on the counter, and I flinch. Jesus, this guy’s strong. The counter creaks under his hand. “What?”

  I ignore the way my eyes sting at his tone, ignore the voice that keeps whispering at the back of my mind that it’s as I feared, that he changed his mind, if he ever wanted it, which isn’t a given… that like Jasper he banged me and wants nothing more to do with me, that his show of protectiveness and affection was an illusion, a momentary thing, there and then gone.

  I ignore it all, and step closer. “Are you all right?”

  A shiver goes through his big frame. He braces his hands on the edge of the counter, hangs his head, dark hair falling in his eyes. “Leave it, Tay.”

  But I can’t. Not when he calls me that, when his voice almost breaks on the sound. He can’t hide from me. Can’t hide the pain radiating from his stance, his voice, the tight curl of his muscles.

  Even if it has nothing to do with me.

  “Talk to me,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “I’m here. I’m right here, Matt.”

  “Not forever,” he mutters, a quiet rumble, and the crack in his voice, in him, is more obvious than ever.

  “But now is what matters. Don’t waste it.”

  He glances at me from under the tumble of his dark hair, and where his gaze had seemed empty and void of emotion before, it’s burning. “What do you know—? Christ, Tay. That asshole grabbed you, he fucking hurt you.”

  “I’m fine. Just a scratch.”

  “Because of me. You should… you should find another job, Tay.”

  “Are you firing me?” I stare at him, open-mouthed.

  “Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.” He shakes his head. “I just need you to be safe. I’m fucking tired of dreaming I got you killed.”

  So that’s what it is.

  I reach for him, and he doesn’t move, letting me place my hand on his rock-hard back. “Why would any of this be your fault? I thought we agreed the guy is a psycho.”

  A sigh rumbles through his chest. “There’s something I have to tell you.” He’s still hunched over, not turning to meet my gaze. “It’s about my past. I just… I pieced together what the messages were saying. I fathered a child before.”

  My hand drops off his back as I take a step back. “A child?”

  What is he saying?

  “There was this girl I dated when I was seventeen, at school. We slept together a few times. Then I left to Milwaukee, and never saw her again. Never heard from her again, either. But it turns out I got her pregnant before I left.”

  “Oh God…” I don’t know where this is going, but it can’t be anywhere good. “What happened?”

  “She left town to stay with an aunt. Lost the baby. And killed herself.”

  I stumble backward, his words a physical blow. I sit back on the kitchen table, my legs weak. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I think…” His hands clench on the edge of the counter, white-knuckled. “I think her brother is after me. For revenge, I’m guessing. Although I didn’t fucking know any of this. And now my kids and you are in danger.”

  This is crazy. And it means Ross is off the hook for good?

  “I’m okay,” I whisper. “Your kids, too. Maybe he isn’t really trying to harm us.”

  He finally pushes off the counter and turns to face me. The pain in his gaze has shifted to anger. “He won’t touch you, or my kids. I’ll feed him his balls if he ever comes near you again.”

  My whole body prickles at this declaration. God, is it wrong that I’m throbbing between my legs when he goes all caveman on me? I want to wrap my legs around his slim hips and kiss him, I want him to spread me on the table and fill me up.

  His eyes narrow, his muscular chest rising and falling faster. “Tay…”

  “I don’t care,” I inform him. “It’s not your fault. And it changes nothing for me.”

  He takes two steps closer, hands fisted at his sides, his gaze moving over my body, and my nipples tighten until they ache under his scrutiny. “You could get hurt for real.”

  “I won’t stop living. I won’t let the bullies win. Ever.”

  “I could hurt you.”

  “I can take it, if it means I can be with you.” I lick my lips, needing his hands on me, on my bare skin, needing him to cover me and overwhelm me. Make me feel I’m his. “What am I to you?”

  “Tay.” He’s so close I can see the emotions rolling through his eyes like clouds over a night sky. So close I could put my hand over the hard bulge in his sweats where his stiff cock is clearly outlined. I could wrap my arms around him and not let go. “I can’t…”

  “Nothing has changed for me,” I say again, giving in and putting my hands on his chest, over warm skin. “I love you.”

  I let my words hang between us. Watch him as he blinks ridiculously lon
g lashes, a spark lighting up in his dark eyes.

  Then he grabs me in his arms, lifting me up and spinning me around, making me gasp and squeal. He slows down, lets me slide down his body and buries his face in my neck, still holding me, keeping me close. His big frame is shaking, his breathing is harsh.

  “Matt?” What have I done? “Just…”

  “Me too,” he breathes against my neck, then against my lips. “God, Tay, me too.”

  And he kisses me.

  We kiss and kiss, and I can’t stop. Don’t want to. He presses me into the wall, his tongue invading my mouth, tangling with mine. He tastes delicious, like burnt caramel and spicy cake and sexy man, and his body crushes me, a solid wall of muscle.

  It’s so good. His muscled arms bracket my face as he eats up my mouth, his muscular chest mashes my boobs, and a thick thigh is pressed between my legs, lighting sparks deep inside me.

  A thrill passes through me wherever his naked skin touches mine.

  And it’s not close enough.

  I squirm, running my hands over his ribs, down to the small of his back, and God, his body strains under my palms. He growls deep in his throat, removes his thigh from between my legs—then grabs both my wrists in one large hand and holds them over my head.

  I gasp when he slams them lightly on the wall, gasp again when he shoves his other hand under my dress and goes back to fucking my mouth with his tongue. His fingers slip under my panties, between my folds, into my pussy.

  Oh dear God. I’m going to come just like this. I’m going to…

  The world splinters, a blinding explosion, a clench and release, a detonation of pleasure.

  I shudder against the wall, against him, fucking myself on his strong, long fingers as I come and come, moaning in his mouth.

  Holy shit. Every time is better, every time—

  I shake as he drags his fingers out of me slowly, teasingly, making me clench again.

  “Matt…” My voice is strangled and hoarse as if I’d been screaming.

  He lifts the fingers that were inside me and locks his gaze with mine as he licks them, his eyes darkening. “Sweet,” he whispers, his voice husky like hell.

  That’s so hot.

  “I want…” I swallow hard.

  “What do you want, sweets?” He runs the fingers he just cleaned with his lips and tongue over my throat, down my chest, between my breasts, tugging the fabric down. “Tell me, because otherwise I’ll just fuck you into the wall, fast and dirty.”

  I swallow again. My mouth is dry. “The kids…”

  “Like I said, fast.” He tugs the fabric lower, revealing my bra. “And tonight… tonight we can take it slow. I want to put my mouth on your tits, on your pussy, fuck you with my tongue, and then with my dick, again and again, until you come, screaming.”

  “Scream? But—”

  “I’ll gag you. I’ll put my hand over your mouth.” He leans in, whispers in my ear, “Or maybe, if you get loud, I’ll just put my cock in your mouth to keep you quiet, how about that?”

  Fire licks at my cheeks, but also my insides, and I moan helplessly. “Oh God, yes.”

  “You like that, huh?” He licks a strip down my throat, bites at my shoulder, everything he does lighting me up all over again, my pussy wet and clenching on nothing. “You ever gone down on a guy before?”

  I shake my head, shivering when his hand cups and kneads my breast, playing with my stiff nipple.

  “You’ve been a good little girl. But you’re a woman now. And you’re mine.” His fingers squeeze my nipple to the point of pain and it’s a bolt of lust straight between my legs. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” I whisper back, moaning and shaking, a toy in his hands. “I love being yours.”

  “Fuck, you don’t know what you do to me.” He grunts, presses his body to mine, and the feel of his rock-hard erection inside his sweats makes me see stars. Never wanted anyone like this. “Need you now.”

  I nod frantically and seconds later he’s tugging down my panties, letting them drop to the floor and I’m pulling down his sweats, impatient to have him naked and inside me.

  Crap, he’s going commando, his thick cock swinging out, flushed and hard and wet. He steadies himself with a hand on the wall by my head as I stroke him, closing my fingers around the thick girth, loving how the silky skin slides over the hardness inside.

  “Christ, you’re killing me,” he grinds out. “I always want you, always, every fucking hour of every fucking day and night. If you only knew…”

  And I love how he’s babbling, nearly incoherent with desire, how much he says when he’s turned on, with his barriers torn down.

  All the truths are here, between us, laid bare.

  Pearly white fluid is spilling from the small slit on the tip of his cock, and I rub my thumb over it. He groans, thrusting into my hand, the powerful muscles in his thighs shifting. His cock swells more, until it barely fits in my hand, veined and huge and so sexy.

  My mouth waters. I’m dying to taste him, lick his length, wrap my lips around the head, see if I can make him cry out and lose control.

  But he puts his hand over mine and stops me. He pushes me back against the wall and scowls. “Fuck, condom.”

  “Wait, I got one.” Gigi said she put one in my purse, didn’t she? I point at the purse, and he lifts it for me. I manage to tear my gaze away from his chiseled chest and hard cock for a moment to rummage until I locate the golden foil.

  Trojan Magnum Bareskin.

  Looks like my sis went the extra mile for me, the little brat. And jeez, she had big hopes for Adam’s cock. However, looking now at Matt’s, thank God she did. This is one big boy.

  Matt grabs the foil from my hand, tears it open and pulls it on efficiently. Oh yes, it’s a perfect fit.

  Why do I feel so hot, just watching him put latex over his very hard, very big cock?

  Jesus. I put my hands on my burning cheeks. Yeah, so frigging hot.

  Then he grabs my hips, lifts me up, pulling my legs around his hips, spreading me wide—and his cock pushes into me.

  I moan, biting my lower lip at the invasion. It burns, and it’s so intense I want to yell and move and get away from it—but then he thrusts deep, and my eyes almost roll up in my head from the pleasure.

  “God, Matt.” I tighten my legs around his hips, and he grunts something unintelligible against my boobs, his hips rocking and his cock sliding in and out of me. “Holy shit.”

  He takes a step forward until my back is up against the wall once more. His strong hands lift me up a few inches, then pull me back down on his cock, and we both moan. So good. So full, so incredible, I can’t… My core clenches around his thickness and I shudder.

  I’m about to come again. This is embarrassing, but my body is already tightening, fireworks going off inside my pussy, inside my head. I writhe on his cock, and he pushes deeper, fucking me harder as I come, his mouth crashing on mine, swallowing my scream.

  Oh God, I’m dying. Have to be. This is too much pleasure. Too much.

  I’m so full of him, every shift of his cock makes me convulse again. My whole body is sparkling, bursting, flying apart. Distantly I hear myself groaning, feel his stubble as he breaks the kiss and curses.

  Then he starts coming, too, and I can only cling to him as he finally lets go.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Matt

  Feeling her come on my dick is shredding my control. I keep thrusting, fighting it, but it’s no fucking use.

  I push her hard against the wall, getting leverage to pound into her the way I need, lifting her legs higher, burying my cock in her hot pussy balls-deep.

  Fuck, she’s clenching and gripping my cock so fucking hard, throwing her head back and moaning my name, that the last thread of my willpower snaps. I press my mouth to her bared neck and come apart. I fucking shatter, burying myself in her deep and shuddering so hard I can’t breathe as my release hits.

  And it hits like a ru
naway truck with a nuclear payload. The pressure in my balls bursts, my dick spasms and pleasure slams into me, leveling me. Totaling me.

  I’m a sweaty, shuddering mess, clinging to Tay. I’m fucking clinging to her and I don’t fucking care, my hips still rocking without rhythm, drawing out the last drops of pleasure.

  Drawing in her scent, memorizing her sweet weight in my arms, the softness of her skin, the timber of her moans, the silk of her hair tickling my face.

  Her curves molding to my body, her legs locked around me, her arms around my neck, her limbs loose and her skin flushed hot in post-orgasmic bliss.

  I could get used to this.

  I’d give fucking anything for a chance to get used to this.

  “Matt… you can put me down,” she whispers, fingertips toying with the ends of my hair at the back of my neck.

  Not yet. I tighten my hold on her. “Can’t remember how I lived without you,” I whisper against the sweet skin of her neck. “Don’t… don’t let me lose myself again.”

  “You know…” she whispers back, tugging on my hair, a light sting I feel all the way to my dick. “I fell in love with you from the first look, right before you slammed the door in my face. And…”

  When I open my mouth to apologize, she tugs harder on my hair, pulling my head back, shutting me up. “And I have no intention of leaving your side at the first hardship. Now…” I hear laughter in her voice and it makes me smile. “Put me down, you big lug, because I can hear the kids at the top of the stairs, and they’re still a bit young for the birds and the bees speech.”

  I snort.

  This goddamn girl… Making me laugh, making me wanna sling her over my shoulder and carry her to my room, and damn the world and its shit. Take her, sink into her again. And again. And again, until we’re both undone and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  God, I’m hardening again. I’m like a teenager when she’s around. But yeah, I wanna take it slow. Go down on her. Fuck her into the mattress. Make her scream my name.

  Have time with her. I want so much time with her, and all I can think of is, thank fuck she’s mine.