“Ah, yes. This connection.” He tapped the side of the drink with his finger. “My wife, as I found out, had been having an affair with Mr. Anderson for some time. Nearly a year. I was in Calgary, that’s where I live, and she was up here allegedly having a meeting with our banker to discuss our investments. Rebecca was my financial manager, it was how we met. Mr. Anderson was our investment broker. So, imagine my surprise to find out they’d been together.” Sadness and surprise crept behind his eyes. “Then that night, two years ago Monday, my world collapsed. My wife, whom I loved more than anything else in the world was in an accident. I flew here and a waiting driver raced me to the hospital. The nurse said she’d come out of surgery and sent me over to the curtained area. When I pulled back the curtain, I was in shock. I know now that it was you, but for a moment I thought you were her. And you appeared like you were in so much pain.”
“I was.”
He stopped and raised an eyebrow. “I figured. The nurse came over and ripped the curtain from my hand, and opened the other one.” A soft, heart crushing sigh. “Where Rebecca lay, wrapped and bandaged. I sat there until she died, about an hour after I arrived. It was only later that I discovered her affair.”
“I’m so sorry. It must’ve been awful to find out like that.”
“It was no picnic, that’s for sure.” His slim fingers rubbed his temples as he closed his eyes for a moment.
Breathe, Aurora. Yes, he suffered that night, and lost. But don’t fall for it. The air between them grew thick and uncomfortable as she thought about that night and watched his face. Unable to look him in the eye, she noted he didn’t have the same issue. The constant scrutiny made her squirm. She killed the awkwardness by flipping her attention to the hockey game playing on the big screens.
“Hockey fan?”
This she could talk about. Easily. “Oh totally. It’s the playoffs now, who isn’t excited?” She watched Matthew from the corner of her eyes.
He put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin in his hands. “Tell me about your mother and sister.”
She snapped her head in his direction and studied him. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to share. It must be tough on you – this accident – as it removed half of your family.”
What? How the hell does he know that? Her throat clenched, and she took a sip of coke, staring at the ice as it bobbed. “It was no picnic,” she said, holding his gaze for a moment. “But I don’t remember the first little bit. I was heavily sedated and pinned in place, so I missed their funeral.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry you never had closure.”
“Life goes on,” she said as she twirled her straw. “That’s what my father always says. Stop glancing in the rear-view mirror, and look out the windshield. The view is bigger and better.” Anger surged beneath the surface. She never forgave her father for pushing her forwards.
“And? How’s that going?”
“It fucking sucks.” Her hands tightened into fists. “I’m never allowed to talk about it with my dad. Ever.”
“So tell me. I’m listening.”
She stared at him. This is what she always wanted – to talk about it. Never in a million years would she have thought it’d be with Matthew James. “For real?” she asked, eyebrows high.
“Why not? I’ve read all I can get my hands on, and I talked with Mr. Anderson about it. Did you know his sentencing will happen within the next month or so?” He waved his hand about. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you to not have any closure. It’s hard to move on from something, when you’ve never been able to deal with it in the first place.”
Unbelievable. Was she really discussing this with him of all people? Her pocket vibrated, and distracted her. Blinking, she glanced at the display. “Sorry, it’s my dad.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Hey, Daddy, can’t talk now,” she whispered, hoping Matthew wouldn’t hear as she covered her mouth. “I’m out for dinner.”
“Okay, Princess, just wanted to let you know I’ll be there on Monday. For the anniversary.”
She hung her head. She wasn’t stupid, she remembered what Monday was. “Yeah, I know.” A quick glance to Matthew, who appeared engrossed on the hockey game. “Monday.” She hit end, and pocketed the phone. “Sorry,” she said.
“It’s all good. I’d never come between a father and a daughter. Are you close?”
With a shrug she said, “We try. But it doesn’t always work out.” She bit her tongue and leaned back as the waiter dropped off their food.
Matthew cut his burger in half before taking a bite. “It must be infuriating.”
“You have no idea.”
They ate the rest of their meal in near silence, neither speaking much about anything more important than the current status of the hockey game, and the playoffs in general. A die hard Flames fan he bragged, which made her shudder. The Oilers would always be number one to her, even if it had been years since they’d even made the playoffs.
They finished watching the game, and Matthew picked up their tab.
“Well, thank you, my lady, for joining me tonight.”
“Yeah, it turned out better than I thought.” She smiled as she stood. Awkward, but tolerable.
He snickered. “I’m so glad.” Grabbing his jacket, he pointed towards the door. “May I have the honour of driving you home?”
“No, I’m good. Can’t ride in cars and all that. Besides, I only live a few blocks from here.”
“May I escort you then?” They exited the restaurant as he pushed open the doors for her.
She contemplated it. As much as she wasn’t as into him as he was into her, the company was nice. It was nice to chat about the accident, even briefly. At least he acknowledged it’d happened. And the relationship between her and Nate ended when she threw him out of the apartment, so she was back to the lonely part.
The apartment tower loomed in the distance and she nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
He reached down and grabbed her hand, kissing the top of it.
She wanted to pull away, but didn’t, continuing to stare at the awkwardness of the whole thing. Turning towards her home, she started walking. They were footsteps from the corner of her block when she stumbled over her own feet, and the sidewalk rushed to her face. Instinctively, she shielded her face, twisting sideways as she fell. Her hip slammed onto the top of the concrete as a painful curse escaped her lips.
Pain radiated through her body as she lay on the sidewalk, blocking out his calls. Her hip screamed at her, begging her not to move. For a minute at least. She brushed away his help. “Just give me a minute please.”
“People are going to think you’re seriously hurt,” he said as he dropped to her level.
“I am seriously fucking hurt.” She winced in pain, and fought the tears battling for release.
“Should I call 911?”
After a few breaths, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her breath laboured.
“If you’re that hurt–”
“It’s more embarrassment than anything,” she lied and took a few more breaths. Fuck! “Okay, let’s go.”
Matthew stood, and extended his hand. She pulled hard on him, favouring her right leg as she stood. She winced as she massaged the hurt, wondering how big the bruise will be.
“I can carry you.”
She leered at him. “Like hell. I can walk.”
He waved his hand as a sardonic expression crossed his face. “Then go ahead.”
Glaring at him, she took a step with her right, and fell back into his arms.
Without a word, he scooped her up and said, “Which building?”
“The tower,” she sighed as she leaned against him, her face buried into his chest from total embarrassment. “The south tower.”
As if she were weightless, he carried her into the building, unlocking the door with ease, and stepped into the ele
vator. “Floor?”
She reached out and stabbed ‘17’.
They arrived in silence as she bounced along his arms down the hall. “I’m feeling better now. Can you set me down?” The screaming pain downgraded to a roaring throb.
Gently, he lowered her to the ground, and she stepped forward to unlock her apartment, putting as little weight as possible on her left leg. With a hobble more pronounced than usual, she gestured to the living room. “Make yourself at home. I need the bathroom.” She excused herself and limped into her master bathroom, ripping open the medicine cabinet door. Staring hard at the choices of pain relievers, she settled on a Flexeril, a perc and a Xanax, to help her relax, before heading back fresh-faced into the living room.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
He had a Cheshire grin on his face. “No, thank you. Come sit.”
After she got comfortable, he moved closer to her. “Feeling better?”
Breathless at being so close, she nodded. Damn he smelled good. Did he freshen up?
“Good.” He dropped an X-BOX controller onto her lap. “Let’s battle. I love this game.”
The TV was on, and the already loaded Call of Duty awaited her player profile. “You’re on,” she said, grinning and wiggled herself into a more comfortable spot.
An hour later, after alternating between being so serious and laughing from Matthew’s total inability to accurately hit a target, Aurora turned off the machine. It was so hard to concentrate with him sitting beside her, and she was more than happy when it was over. Feeling better, much better thanks to the drugs, she twisted towards him. “Thanks for the game. That was fun. My friends don’t enjoy that particular game.” A yawn escaped, and she covered her mouth.
He set his controller down on the coffee table, and leaned closer. “Thanks for having me over.”
How did his breath manage to stay so minty smelling? She didn’t recall him popping anything into his mouth. “My pleasure,” she said, looking into his emerald green eyes and trailed her gaze down to his plump lips. Stop. It. “Maybe next time, you’ll be able to hit your mark.” With the pain wiped out thanks to the perc, the spasms alleviated with a nod to the flex, and all anxiety out the window because of the Xanax, she rose and stumbled for the door.
Matthew stepped behind her. “There’ll be a next time?” His smile flawless.
“I said maybe.” She stifled a yawn after she smiled. “Thanks for dinner. The evening turned better than I thought.”
“High praise indeed.” His cool hand touched her inflamed cheek, and stroked it gently. “My lady–” His voice warm and husky.
Her grip around the doorknob tightened. His touch so soft, like Nate’s. She closed her eyes as Nate’s fingers stroked her cheek. Without another thought, she entangled her fingers through his dark hair, the silky strands caressing her palms, and she pulled him close, wanting to taste his lips. Oh, Nate.
With an eagerness of a teenage boy, he bent down, his strong arms wrapping around her frail body. He pushed back into the kiss as he lifted and carried her back to the couch.
Trailing kisses down her chin, he kissed the base of her neck she exposed with her head thrown back. “You’re delightful, my lady.”
She moaned as she pulled her blue top off, exposing her black-lace covered breasts. She tugged his shirt out of his pants, and ran her hands along the smooth ridges of his chest.
His hands warmed and tingled her skin as they traced a pattern. A familiar one. One she had lived with for the past two years. “Ignore my scars.”
“That bastard marred your perfect body.”
“I’m familiar with what he did, and the marks he left.” She lifted his chin, and blinked slowly, trying to see him clearly. He remained fuzzy around the edges. “For now, just take me. Fuck me hard and leave me begging for more.” Her eyes draped close.
“Your wish is my command, my lady.” A foil packet ripped open, and the wrapper fell to the wayside.
“Prepared, were you? Expecting something?” Opening her eyes, she raised an eyebrow. His eyes lowered as the latex rolled the length of his shaft.
“Hoping, never expecting, my lady.”
As it hurt too much to focus, she blindly kissed his salty but sweet tasting lips.
“I’ve been fighting this all evening long.” He flipped her over.
Her cheek against the couch, and her ass in the air, his hands played up and down her back. A finger slipped under the band of her bra and before she knew it, her breasts were freed. Finally. Tenderly, he pushed the straps over her shoulders and the bra fell to her hands. Her lacy panties rubbed against her skin before being pulled to the side.
“Meow,” she said as the pressure of fullness filled her from behind.
A flat hand rested across her lower back, as another slipped around her waist, searching beneath her panties for the most feminine part of her. The heat burned as he found and deftly stroked a little nub. “Ooh,” she moaned to his touch.
He slammed against her and she rocked on her hands to maintain balance. The harder he pushed into her, the more intense pressure he applied with his fingers as he rubbed her. Harder. Harder.
“Yes, yes,” she moaned out. “Faster.” She breathed so hard, she almost couldn’t catch her breath. “Harder.”
His finger rubbed at her apex until a moment later, he let go to grip her hips so tight she cried out in pain as he held on to the bruising part of her. He growled as he unleashed, and held her tight.
“Finish me off. I’m so close,” she begged. Panting and desperately fighting to breathe, her body twisted as he flipped her onto the couch with ease. It didn’t take long to return to the build-up that had been so close. It had her pleading to fall off the edge into sweet, total bliss.
His mouth ravaged her, sucking and nipping. Over and over. Warmth burned from the pit of her stomach and radiated outwards, tingling to the tips of her fingers and toes. Feeling as light as a cloud, she wondered if she could fly. She licked her lips. Oh, Nate. Slowly, she moved her hands over her own breasts, twisting and tugging on her nipples.
Moist heat from his mouth arrived a moment after. He flicked with his tongue. Her nipples rolled between her fingers. Seductively, her hands travelled down her body, stopping at her hips and ran her fingers through his hair. His magical tongue unleashing wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss. The sensations – the tingling, the build-up – made her realise it had been far too long without a man, and she wanted to, needed to explode all over him and soak him completely. And it wouldn’t take much more to achieve.
Taking his hands, she pushed them down and guided him to open her further as he dove in face first. He mashed his nose into her. The motions were strong and fast and long. His tongue felt like it was as long as his– “Ahh,” she whispered when he touched the spot responsible for her recent bouts of self-loving. It was fucking magical.
“Let it happen. Let me watch you come undone.” He kissed and sucked and stroked. In doing so, the sensations overwhelmed her and before she could warn him, he licked her firmly and she exploded all over him. The slippery, silky fluid rushed from her and washed over his face. Like a thirsty man in the desert, he lapped it all up.
His words a whisper. “Sweet Jesus, that was heavenly.” He sat on the couch, pulling her weak legs over him. His hand rested on her belly.
Too tired to move her heavy, yet satisfied body, she rested against him, chancing a quick peek. His head lopped on the back of the couch, eyes closed, and his chest rose and fell softly. Sated, she mumbled, “Good night, Nate.”
Chapter Seventeen
Her mind woke up before her body did. She was uncomfortable. Worse than that, she was in pain. A great deal of pain. As she tried to move, the bed beneath her didn’t give. The more she thought about it, the more she remembered. She hadn’t fallen asleep on the bed. She was still on the couch. Naked and on the couch. And fuck, was it ever hot.
Blinking rapidly, she focused on the source of heat.
Matthew James. Matthew James? What the fuck? Tucked in behind her on the couch, his arm draped over her. It wasn’t a dream. He was in her apartment underneath a throw blanket. When the hell did that happen?
Desperate to move, and stiffer than when she’d been pinned in place in the hospital two years ago. Another move. A deep breath. Each movement sent a fresh wave of nausea-inducing pain throughout her body.
“Hey, wake up.” She poked him and when he didn’t respond, she poked him harder. “Get. Up.” Twisting was a bad mistake as the pain sliced through her. Unable to hold it in, she screamed. And that woke up Matthew.
“What?” he asked as he jumped up with no shame in his nakedness.
“Pain,” she cried and closed her eyes.
He pulled on his underwear in a hurry. “What can I get you?”
“Pills. Bathroom.”
One long painful minute later, he returned baring multiple pill containers and a glass of water.
“Which one?”
Scanning them all, she pointed to the second one. “Two, please.”
He popped the top, and toppled them into her outstretched hand. “Water?”
A subtle head shake. “Give me a few minutes,” she whispered. I need to figure out what the actual fuck is going on. But I can’t think straight in this much pain.
He covered her. “Do you want me to move you to your bed at least?”
Shut up. I need to think. She closed her eyes as if it would make everything better. I remember the restaurant. Brewster’s. Dinner was okay. Awkward but tolerable. We went to leave, and I was lonely, so invited him over. I fell. Her hand instinctively went to her hip, and she palpitated, figuring the bruise was at least as big as her palm. Oh fuck. A quick movement and pain coursed through her. She hated this, hated feeling like this. Weak. Fragile. Fuck, sometimes she hated her body. Pills. I had some pills. What did I have though? Definitely a perc. Thinking hard, she tried to see in her mind what containers she moved. Yes, a perc. Probably a Xanax. I didn’t add a flex, did I? Fuck. Her palms pressed into her eyes. Aw, fuck. As she opened her eyes, Matthew James’ face hovered over hers. Oh, fuck. I fucked him, didn’t I?
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