He stretched out next to her, resting his head on a bicep. “Jay was buddies with the dude who owned it. Keeping it for some cabin development or something like that. Jay and I used to come out here to shoot rabbits.” His eyes were deep pools of moss, lost in whatever he was reminiscing. “When Jay died, it came up for short sale. Went into foreclosure when the economy dropped out. I made an offer.” A heavy shoulder shrugged. “Reminds me of Jay, I guess.”
She rolled onto her back and put her hands up in the air, pretending to cup the clouds in the curve of one palm. A hawk soared past her fingertips, screeching its claim to majesty as it dipped after a sparrow. “I think that’s good,” she murmured. “You should hold on to your memories with him.”
“Hmmm.” He was suddenly over her; the sun behind his head and around his shoulders, eyes cast black by the afternoon light. He leaned down slowly into Allie’s welcoming mouth while her fingers traced up the thick bulge of muscle that chorded his arms, too wide for her hands to span.
“I know what you were up to with the shirt, baby”—His hand slipped down between her cleavage, to the first of her buttons—“And I approve.”
She snaked her hands under the hem of his shirt and raked her nails over his abdomen and chest. His skin was soft and warm, such a contrast to all the solid muscle beneath. “I love your chest.” She grinned. “Have I told you that?”
Matthew chuckled deep in his throat, all masculine approval that dripped over her senses like hot, mocha triple fudging goodness. “Yeah. I think you tell me that every time you get me naked.”—His hips surged up into her, hitting . . . right . . . there. In just the right spot—“Really helps build up a guy’s self-esteem.”
She ground back into him with a breathless laugh. “Please. Like your self-esteem needs any help.” She was panting with anticipation, barely able to string her sentence into any kind of logic. “But, speaking of naked, you definitely need less clothes.”
With some help from Matthew, she ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it . . . to who-the-hell-cared. Fingers working over his fly in no time flat she’d pulled his waistband down below his hips and sexy ass.
Then she sat back on her heels and just took in all that perfection lying beneath her.
His chest was wide and hard, perpetually flexed around the power he always harnessed so masterfully. His stomach was a dual set of ridges, not in the superficial way that some men built up for themselves—doing a million crunches for a six-pack that was slapped over a whole lot of weakness. Matthew was all strength and deadly proficiency, strait to the center of his core. And even better, there wasn’t a speck of hair around to impede the view of his bellybutton or that v of muscle that dipped between the tight cradle of his hips.
She grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
Suddenly leaning in, both his hands fisted the hair at the back of her head. His eyes were dark with carnal promise. “I think I owe the Master Chief one for her ill-gotten win today.” Then he set off to blow Allie’s ever-loving mind.
Chapter twenty-five
“Oh. My,” Allie gasped.
She sprawled over Matthew’s sweat-slick chest, naked as the day she was born; all twitching arms and legs as the last delicious tremors slid through her. Her eyes were closed—it was just too much damn effort to crack them at the moment—as she focused on the soft pads of Matthew’s fingers stroking up and down her upper arms, the warm press of his lips over her shoulder and the back of her neck.
“You alive, baby?” Smug male pride radiated from every syllable. This was a man who could make his woman sing—anytime, anywhere—and he knew it.
Allie, continuing to pant on top of him, too lost in blissful recovery to string together any kind of intelligent response, was suddenly tossed on her side as he rolled on top of her with a wolfish grin. His voice black velvet against her overheated skin, “Good one?”
Boy, was it ever.
She nodded weakly—or, at least, she thought she did—and focused on regulating her heart rate again before the damn organ shattered her ribs. When he rolled off her and began to pull on his jeans and zip up his fly, reality slapped her upside the head like the ugly troll-bitch it was.
They’d just had sex.
Very public sex.
Like, for hours. Geeze, show a little restraint, Allie, would ya? When she felt like she’d caught her breath enough to talk, she said, “We’ve really got to stop this.”
“Stop what, baby?” he murmured as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. That sexy-as-hell tattoo over his heart leapt against his pec and Allie’s libido sprang to instant attention. Ah, geeze. She really had a problem where this man was concerned. And screw restraint, anyway, her inner hoe hissed while Allie licked her lips and got ready to jump him again. When his stomach muscles coiled beneath the thin fabric of his shirt her mouth watered.
Yum.
Green eyes met hers, and when they took in the famished look that was showing through every cell on Allie’s face, they turned black. He walked toward her and bent down on his haunches; muscles tight and ready to spring. His fingers trailed over the curve of one breast, down to the side of her belly, and . . . “Stop. What?”
Damn him.
“Having sex”—her eyes fluttered as she fought to not give into his fingers masterful rhythm—“in public. Like this”—Ah! Waves of pleasure crashed into her and she had no choice but to give in to their consuming torrent once more.
What was this for her, now? Five? Six?
Was that even possible?
She should probably find a cigarette or something.
Matthew’s chuckle lapped over her bare skin. What the hell had they been talking about?
Oh, yeah. Too much PDA.
“S’all good.” Matthew’s lips quirked. “Might have to worry about the cops showing up, though.” Green eyes met hers. “You were making so much noise; anyone passing by would have thought you were being murdered.”
“Whatever!” She would have thrown something at his head, but all her clothes were wadded up in a pile behind him. She eyed a rock and then changed her mind. If she killed him by accident, that meant no more orgasms. And she was getting pretty good at them. Besides, she wasn’t completely certain that her limbs were fully functional yet.
Settling for crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes up at him. His gaze instantly fell to her now pushed up cleavage and got that I-wanna-do-you-seven-shades-to-Sunday look in his eye. The tip of his tongue darted to the rim of his upper lip. “I like what you got going on right now. And that sassy pout makes me want to smack your ass before I take you all over again.”
“Geeze.” Her cheeks flamed and her arms fell to her sides. She had a pretty good feeling he was saying that just to make her squirm. And, by the way, it was totally working.
A hand flashed out and suddenly Allie was tumbling into Matthew’s lap. His lips met hers, so warm and so sweet as his tongue explored her mouth for the hundred-millionth time—as if he could have possibly not discovered every part of her by now.
She loved him so much.
“Matthew?”
He pulled back to cradle her head between his hands, thumbs teasing the corners of her mouth. “Yeah?”
“Can I have my clothes?” She felt a little weird sitting buck-ass nude in his lap when he was completely clothed.
“Don’t know if I want you to ever put them on again.” He laughed. The sound was so familiar to her now—raspy and low; deep and rich as chocolate. It was crazy to think of what he’d been like when they’d first met. How intimidating he’d been. Okay, scary-as-hell was a more honest assessment. He’d been, just so in control. So confident. Like he knew he could rip apart a whole room of people and not even break a sweat.
Allie shivered—guess he could still probably do that.
Looking back at her first glimpse of him in that UMMA arena, she’d never have guessed what was really underneath all that deadly promise.
Her pants landed with a
whump! in her face, followed by her shirt.
“Jerk!” The insult was muffled through her clothes. Slipping both hands through the rough fabric dangling over her nose, she saw that Matthew was patting the grass, his eyes latched on the ground.
“What are you looking for?”
“Your panties.” He frowned.
“Squirrel probably took off with them.” She pulled her jeans off her head and turned them upside down. Giving each leg a good shake, she cried, “Ah, ha!” when a white bundle of transparent lace tumbled out onto the blanket. She held them up between two fingers and grinned.
Matthew snatched them away before she could blink.
“Hey!” Her eyes narrowed. “I need those!”
Lips slowly stretching with an evil grin, he purred, “Sorry. Mine now.”
She held out her matching bra. “It okay if I put this on? Or you gonna take it, too?”
His expression darkened. “You damn well better put it on. What’s behind it is all mine. No one gets to look at those, except me.”
Caveman. She snorted. Such knuckle-dragging.
As she fastened the clasps on her bra and shrugged into the straps, her stomach filled with nerves. She’d wanted to ask him something for a while now, but had been too nervous to bring it up. They’d seemed to have broken through so much today. If anytime was prime to ask him, it was now.
Man, she hid her cringe. She hoped he didn’t freak out and leave.
Letting her hair fall forward to curtain her way-too-readable expression, she thought, here goes, and her shoulders rose. “Um. Matthew?” Was that pathetic squeak really coming out of her? “Would you want to meet my mom?” She peeked through a gap in the chestnut waves.
Matthew’s mouth was open—in shock, or anger, she couldn’t tell—while he simply gaped at her.
A dumbstruck Matthew?
Couldn’t be a good sign.
Well, crap. She cringed again. “I mean . . . I understand if you feel weird about it. And it’s not like she’s really lucid anymore or anything. This would probably be more for my benefit, I guess. You don’t have to if you feel like it’s too big of a step . . . like, too soon or something. I just thought I’d ask—”
“—Allie?” She jumped as Matthew used his thumbs to tuck her hair behind her ears. When she finally pulled her big girl panties up enough to look at him, she was startled by what she saw.
Matthew was all wide eyes and sparkling awe, his brows raised as if he couldn’t believe what she’d asked him. “You really want me to meet your mother?”
Shoulder raising and then falling, her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her eyes slid sideways. “I mean . . . you don’t have to. . .”
His hand cupped the side of her cheek as his thumb pried her hold on her lip loose. “Do you think she’d approve? Of someone like me?”
Whoa. What?
“You don’t think she’d like you?”
His mouth curled to the side with a sardonic smile. “Baby, you know as well as anyone I’m not the kind of guy you take home to meet the fam.”
Her lips pursed. “Don’t say that about yourself, Matthew.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know it’s true. But if you want me to meet your mom, I’d be completely honored.”
Oh, Matthew!
The amount of self-loathing that seeped through his regular bad-ass cool every once in a while left Allie breathless.
Small fingers found his much larger, much harder ones and squeezed. “I want you to meet her right this second.”
***
Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting outside her mom’s nursing home.
All Allie could think about was that she should have thought the whole visit-the-mom thing through better. Going all spur-of-the-moment had been a bad plan.
Nothing to do with Matthew, of course. . .
But, what if Adam was here?
She should have called ahead. They should have waited to come until they knew for sure he wouldn’t be there.
Horrific flashes of the first, last, and only chance meeting between Matthew and Adam had Allie’s molars grinding. She could practically see the scene-to-come play out before her. The idea of watching helplessly on as the pair of lug-heads rolled around on the floor among a throng of wheelchairs and walkers was enough to give Allie heart palpitations.
Tightening her already iron grip on Matthew’s hand, she shrunk into her shoulders.
Damn it. Why was she so nervous?
Was this really about Adam? Or was all this stupid, useless anxiety rooted more in the fact that Matthew was the first man she’d ever introduced to her mom as someone “significant”?
Mulling that over, she let Matthew tow her into the building; all the while, keeping her eyes peeled for a tall frame and dark skin.
When they’d reached the atrium of the main building, Matthew turned toward her, ruddy brows creeping up his forehead. “Okay there, baby? You seem nervous.”
“Oh.” She blinked up at him a few times. “I’m . . . err . . . on the lookout for Adam,” she admitted.
Matthew’s mouth instantly flattened. “Hmmm. Forgot that handsy bastard worked here.”
Allie cringed, her fears instantly gaining validation. “Yeah . . . that’s what I’m worried about.”
He frowned. “What are you worried about?”
“You. Going all ape-shit on him.”
His teeth flashed—more a threat than a smile—and his finger stroked the underside of his chin. “Tempting.”
Allie’s lips pursed up tight as an oyster, and he laughed. “Oh, relax, Allie. I’m screwing with you. I do have a little self-control . . . when I feel like it.”
She went to smack him in the chest and somehow ended up smashed against him, her hands behind her back and tucked under her butt, used as leverage so he could lift her by her ass. He dispersed any argument she might have had with a kiss that was soooo inappropriate for a nursing home, and that left her panting for more.
When he set her down again—just as suddenly—he glanced around the reception desk and large fish tank that sat off to the side of a bouquet of fake flowers. He had the whole no-big-deal expression going for him—as opposed to Allie, who was all frazzled hair and roaring lust. When she untwisted her shirt and tucked it back into her jeans, the corner of his lips twitched with a whole lot of self-satisfaction.
Why did she feel like he’d just been marking his territory?
“What?” His smile peeled off his teeth a little more.
Jerk! She glared up at him, “That was for Adam’s benefit, wasn’t it?”
His lips twisted into something down right devilish as his green eyes lighted with promise. “Oh, I’ve got something much better in mind for that asshat. And that kiss was all for you. I’m not really into the passive-aggressive scene. I’ll just lay the bastard out if he tries anything.”
Gulp.
She forced some sternness into her voice. “You better not.”
In a voice that had turned to dark chocolate sin and sex, he purred, “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” A long index finger dipped inside the waistband of her jeans, dove indecently low.
Damn it.
She’d just forgotten her name again.
“My mom. Now,” she managed to slur through the fog of lust that was trying to suffocate her.
Calm and collected once more, he smiled politely. “Lead the way.”
Allie slid her fingers through his, in case they began to wander again and Matthew and she walked down the long, sterile hall of the main building, toward the Alzheimer’s wing.
Her favorite nurse was at her post behind the check in desk and Allie smiled. “Hey, Sybil. How’s mom tonight?”
Heat trickled up her spine when Matthew inched up behind her. His fingers played over the small bump of vertebrae sitting right above her waistband. Allie felt her cheeks flush and dropped her eyes.
Sybil eyed Matthew with curriosity. “Allison. Hi.” Sybil cleared so
me of her smoker’s rasp and tried again. “Mary had a bad day today. She’s been in her room a lot. Sleeping.”
Oh, no! Allie stamped down on her rising panic and told herself that the nursing staff would have called if it was anything serious. Her mom was starting to accumulate more and more bad days as of late, but she always bounced back. Allie swallowed and reminded herself that her mom was the youngest patient here.
“She’s okay, though?” Allie fought for control over her voice. Didn’t want to freak Matthew out.
A heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders and all she could think was how good it was to have his hard body against hers right now.
Snapping herself into the comforting professional that it was her duty to be, Sybil shook her head. “Oh, no. It’s nothing unusual. You know some days are worse than others.”
They were buzzed in and Allie paused momentarily to turn back to Sybil. “Uh . . . is Adam working today, by the way?”
Brows flew up at first, but then as Sybil’s eyes slid back to Matthew, they filled with understanding. “Ah, no. He’s working the midnight shift tonight.”
Geeze, were Adam’s feelings for Allie that obvious?
“Oh. Okay, then.” She dropped her eyes and followed Matthew past the beeping doors and into the Alzheimer’s Unit. Allie breathed a silent sigh of relief when Sybil’s eyes were no longer on her.
How the hell had her life turned into such a soap opera?
She cuddled into Matthew’s chest and breathed in his warm scent. “Mom’s room is down at the very end.” She pointed down the left-hand hallway. “Shares a room with a lady named Susan.” Susan was only sixty-three.
Matthew nodded, his arm still draped around her as he took in the blasé wall art, wooden railings, and tiny patient name plaques that perched over each room number.
Over Mary’s door, a chain of sea shells framed the top of the jamb.
“Umm. . .”—Allie bit her lip—“Mom’s always loved the ocean. I keep having to buy her new stuff. Most decorations tend to wander into other patient’s rooms. This one’s been missing for a few weeks.” It was hard to see her mom stuck here and she tried to make it as homey as she could. Mary had been as flamboyant as a tropical flower in the middle of a sand dune. The walls in her house had inches of paint covering them, always changing with her mood: lime green, purple, red, blue. . . She’d ruined a perfectly respectable set of cabinetry in only a few hours after watching a home improvement special, when she suddenly painted them a buttery yellow. That had taken days of paint thinner, scrapers, and a lot of elbow grease on both Allie’s and her mom’s parts before they’d finally cleaned the last remains from every nook and cranny.
Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) Page 21