by A. D. Roland
I’m stuck. She silently prayed for forgiveness for any pain she’d inflict on West. I hate you, K. One day, I’m going to make you sorry you ever messed with me.
West mimicked her pose, elbow on the back of the seat, hand threaded through his hair. He was so close that their knees touched. “That night, I heard something outside. I could have sworn it was McKendrick, carrying Elaine. Her hair was hanging down, and I was pretty sure I saw the nightgown she loved so much. It had lots of bright red lace at the hem. My mom got it at a yard sale. It was so ugly.” He smiled at the memory, a sad smile that tore at Mattie’s heart.
Oh, God, West. I don’t want to hurt you. It’s been a week, and I’m half in love with you.
“I know whoever I saw had to be McKendrick. Besides my dad, there weren’t any other men around. He walked off into the yard, past the pond, and I lost him in the shadows.”
“What’s out past the pond?”
“Bunch of old dead orange trees. Part of a grove that a freeze killed years ago. The next morning Elaine was gone. Part of me died right then. I might have just been six, but you were my life. I told everybody what I saw, but they all said I was dreaming. Ruth Ellen believed me and paid me a dollar every day to look for Elaine. She never could accept that Elaine was just gone.”
Mattie filed the information away in her head. The dead orange grove past the pond. The landmarks meant nothing to her, but she’d find out what they were eventually. Ruth Ellen’s mystery would be solved, and Mattie would have enough money to satisfy K, and give herself a new start.
***
West watched Matte surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. She stared down at her hand, her brow narrowed, thinking about something pretty serious. Just to be mean, he knocked her elbow off the back of the seat, catching her unawares. Her head and neck flopped downward, and she yelped in surprise.
“You jerk!” She smacked at his thigh. “Why’d you do that?”
“Bored.” Like lightning, her hand shot forward and twisted his nipple painfully. He let out his own yelp and clutched at his chest.
“How would you like it if I did that to you?” he griped, scowling.
“Well, honestly?”
“No—never mind.” He rubbed at his sore nipple. “That really hurt.”
“Yeah, well, it’s supposed to.”
West wondered how much longer Em would be in the club. He’d tried texting her, but he didn’t get a response to any of the messages. Well, he could use this time to talk to Mattie, try to get her to slip up in her story.
Maybe get a little closer to her. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since the day before, when her hot wet body was pressed up against his in the pool, writhing while he tickled her. When their eyes had met, it had been a bolt of lightening to his gut. This is the connection I want with someone.
“So how are you able to just give everything up in Atlanta and move down here?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really attached to anything up there.” The way her hand moved to her chest, where she used to wear that pink crystal pacifier necklace, proved her a liar.
“What about your parents?”
“I was raised by a woman that used to work for the McKendricks. We never really had a bond. She dumped me as soon as she could. Last I heard, she’d died in a car accident.”
“What do you mean?” From the expression on her face, Mattie realized she’d told him too much. West latched on tothat.
“Tell me, Mattie. What do you mean?” She wouldn’t look at him.
“Nothing.”
“Uh huh. Talk. Did they know? Did whoever it was kidnap up?” His mind tried to wrap around it. Could it be possible that she was Elaine? If Ruth Ellen or James McKendrick were behind the child’s disappearance, it would be a revelation that would change lives. Suppose one of them had sent the kid away with a servant.
Why, though? Money, obviously, but what were the specific reasons behind it? Suddenly it changed everything. The Navigator seemed to swirl around him as he absorbed the idea that Elaine might not be dead. The woman next to him, the woman that looked hauntingly like Ruth Ellen, might be his lost Elaine.
“Look, West, there’s a lot more going on than you think you know. You look disappointed. Are you still trying to catch me in a lie?” Quick as a second strike of lightning, she pinched and twisted his other nipple. Shocked, theories lost in the shard of pain and wave of desire that jolted through him, he yelped and clasped the wounded body part.
“Holy crap, you gotta stop that!” He kept both hands clasped over his chest, shielding his sensitive little nipples. “You are rough, woman.”
She slugged him in the arm, a defiant light in her eyes. “I am not.”
West grabbed her by the thigh and dragged her across the seat so fast she cried out. Putting his full weight on her body, he began to tickle her furiously, until she was shrieking in gaspy bursts between breathless giggles.
Leaning close to her face, he warned her, trying his best to keep a straight face, “Don’t ever pinch my nipples again.” He dug into her ribs with his fingers, knowing he was going to end up leaving bruises.
For some reason, the thought excited him. Not because it was hurting her, but because she’d let him do it. Her hands squirmed against his chest, trying to rise high enough to pinch him again, or something. She was biting her bottom lip hard, staring at him with a weird little smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t escape the intensity of her eyes.
A thought that sounded so ridiculous to him sprouted in his head. I want to possess her.
He wanted this woman. He wanted to own her. West ground his teeth and shoved that part of his mind aside. Emeline hated it when he got like that.
But Mattie seemed to like it. She squirmed under him, repositioning herself so that he could hold her down more comfortably. What the heck? She...liked that? Heat flared in him, a match in the blackness. Liberated, if only for a second, he held still. Her hands moved up his side, flattened against his chest. Her fingers splayed wide over his wounded nipples. Her right leg, trapped under his, moved sideways, off the seat, so that he rested between her legs.
That thin skirt she wore and his jeans were the only things separating them. Did she wear panties? Thongs? Maybe she was commando. Nah, Mattie wasn’t the type for that.
She released her bottom lip, and her pink tongue flicked out to moisten the soft flesh. Before he knew what he was doing, he kissed her. Intoxicating. She was an aggressive kisser, her hand sliding into his hair and pulling him down to kiss her harder. Her lips parted further, inviting his tongue in to dance with hers. He wanted to taste her skin. Lost in the surprise of her kiss, he slipped his hand under her shirt. Everything about her kiss seemed familiar, like he’d done it a million times.
He kissed across her jaw, around her ear, down her throat. His hand found her breast and gave it a hard squeeze. She squeaked against the top of his head but arched her chest into his, against his hand. “Geez, you’re not kneading dough! Gentle!” He rubbed his thumb over herhard nipple.
“West,” she breathed, arching her crotch against the painfully hard bulge in his jeans.
“Shut up, Mattie,” he replied, delving into her hot, seeking mouth again. She shocked him into submission for a second by sliding her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, the tips of her fingers brushing the uber-sensitive tip of his erection. His hips pushed against hers. “What are you doing, Mattie?”
“Just...stuff. You’re really big, West.”
“You’re killing the happy with all the gab,” he gasped, settling more firmly into the warm crotch of her legs. He shoved the restricting hem of her skirt higher so he could rest against her more comfortable.
“Wait, hold on,” Mattie grunted. She wiggled her left leg out from under him and propped it up on the seat back, her lower leg hanging over the back. Her skirt was nearly around her waist, revealing bright pink panties that hung low on her hips. He grinned. He knew if he flipped
her over, the panties would hug the curve of her buttocks, showing just enough skin to make him even hotter. “I feel like a teenager again.”
He goosed her side. “I don’t know what you’re trying here, but hush so we can keep going.”
Mattie tilted her hips again and writhed against him. She sucked her breath in and sighed heavily when he ground against her. He had to be hurting her. Her undies were thin and flimsy, and the zipper crease of his jeans paired up with his rock-hard erection had to be a killer.
Maybe not, he guessed, when she dug her fingers into his waist and pulled him harder against her. Relishing her reactions to him, he pinned her hands over her head against the seat.
After a few moments of harsh, exhilarating dry-humping, he groaned and pushed himself up on his knees. “This hurts. Sit up.” Without waiting for her, he pulled her upright, sat in the seat, and pulled her on to his lap.
With her skirt still high around her hips, and he felt her hot, damp heat soaking through his jeans. His fingers roved around her ass and he grinned when he felt the way the bottom edge of the panties rode up her ass. He’d love to smack it and watch the pale skin blossom red.
Mattie shrugged out of her hoodie jacket. The thin spaghetti straps of her top slipped down her shoulders. West grinned wickedly and pushed the left one down her arm. He reached in and bared one breast, loving the weight and softness of it in his hand. He flicked his thumb over the nipple. Guilty thoughts rushed to his head, but he didn’t care. This was about him and Mattie, and how amazing her tits felt in his hands.
“Should I return the favor?” he whispered.
“Do it and I’ll twist something of yours that’s a lot more sensitive than your nipple.” She leaned forward and nipped his earlobe. The sensation sent a hard rush of heat through his groin. She kissed his ear, finding ways to make blood surge through his cock that he hadn’t even know where there. Her position put her breasts right in his face, and he loved it.
The hot, soft center of her shifted on his lap as she leaned forward on her knees, working her hips in a subtle figure-eight.
With a wicked grin, he pinched her nipple. She gasped and tried to jerk away. “Don’t threaten me again,” he growled, keeping his fingers clamped on the sensitive flesh. She didn’t try to move away again. Instead, she closed her eyes and worked her hips against him.
“You like this?” he whispered against her lips. What was it that she was doing to him that made him so fire-hot, wind-wild inside?
“Yes,” she said after a moment, opening her glittering, heavy-lidded eyes. Even in the darkness West made out the flush of her cheeks.
The windows of the Navigator steamed up, dimming the wan light coming in from the overheads of the garage further. West cupped her breasts again, kissing her nipple until it was hard and beaded once again.
Emeline wouldn’t dream of doing anything like this. Such a prude when it came to being adventurous, despite her little thing going on in the club upstairs. Maybe it was just when she was with him. She hadn’t even kissed him in weeks.
I hope you see this, Em, he thought as Mattie slid off his lap and knelt between his knees. I hope you see your sister blowing me. You’re fucking sister! The picture of Emeline on the couch in the club with some random guy’s hand up her dress was seared into his head.
Mattie worked the button and zipper of his jeans, reached into his boxers, and freed his throbbing-hard erection. She ran her hand along the length, brushing her thumb over the extra-sensitive spot beneath the head. Like magic, she took away Emeline’s betrayal. It was just Mattie, Mattie the brightest spot in the universe, and just him out in the Navigator. Her bright eyes never left his as she took him into her mouth and swirled her tongue over the spot her thumb had touched. One hand closed around his shaft while the other closed around his balls and massaged. Emeline ceased to exist. All there was in the world was Mattie’s mouth.
“God, Mattie,” he breathed, leaned back into the seat, slouching closer to the edge. One hand went to her head and gripped her hair, moving her back and forth until she picked up the rhythm on her own.
The way her tongue whipped and twirled over his head, and the increasing pressure of her mouth as she worked him further back into her throat, and the firm strokes of her hand on his shaft had him sweating and panting. He tangled his hand in her hair and drew her further down, until he felt her throat convulse as she fought her gag reflex. Her breath puffed through her nose, hot against his groin.
West thought she would push away from him, but she only moaned. The sound vibrated through his dick, pushing him ever closer to the edge he was rushing toward.
“Mattie, Mattie.” He thrust into her face as the sensations grew more insistent. His release, fueled by anger and betrayal, by lust and sheer need, pounded at him until he couldn’t bear it any longer. “Mattie, I’m coming—”
He bit back the roar that wanted to burst from his chest as he pumped his seed into her receptive mouth. Everything exploded in ways that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He felt...free.
Mattie’s tongue still worked his dick, flicking at that sensitive spot. Super sensitive, he twitched and tried to pull away. He yelped when she clamped her teeth down gently, just beyond the head.
“God, Mattie,” he gasped. He untangled his fingers from her hair. She smirked and finally leaned back. She wiped her mouth with her index finger, a sullen, sexy gesture that took what little bit of breath that he had away.
She licked her finger clean and hoisted herself up on to the seat.
West was speechless. Completely speechless. She actually enjoyed that.
Emeline acted like it was the end of the world when he asked her to give him head. He had to ask for it. Mattie’d dove right in, head first, no pun intended. He knew without a doubt he was involved with the wrong sister.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said.
“What’s to say?” Mattie replied.
“If Emeline found out about that, she’d crap a cow.” The second the words left his mouth, he knew he’d filled it with his foot. Mattie scowled.
“So that was all about Emeline?”
“Mattie—”
“I mean, I know it wasn’t about ‘us’ but why did it have to be about Emeline? Why couldn’t it have just been me and you, having a good time? I’m generally not attracted to guys enough to even kiss them, much less...do that. You really know how to make a girl feel like a whore.”
“Well, hell, woman, you’re the one going down on a guy you’ve barely known three days.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Just chill, Mattie, it wasn’t like that.”
“No. Of course it wasn’t. It’s never like that.” She snatched her hoodie off the floorboards and jammed her arms into it. “Maybe you should stay with Emeline. You deserve her.”
West had barely tucked his dick back into his pants when the back door on the passenger side swung open. Emeline’s friends froze when they saw them. West’s unbuttoned pants and Mattie’s flushed face didn’t escape them, he realized with an internal groan. Emeline thrust her head between her friends’ shoulders.
“What the hell’s going on here?” she demanded shrilly. Mattie cocked an eyebrow.
“Same thing that went on in the club, Em.” Em’s face paled.
“You’re such a whore, Mattie!”
“It’s genetic.”
Emeline threw up her hands and declared she couldn’t ride home in the same vehicle as Mattie.
One of her friends volunteered to drive her home. West felt like he could breathe, finally. The haughty young woman turned her royal-bitch eyes on West. “Are you coming with me or not?”
West shook his head. “I saw you up there, Em.”
“So? I was just dancing. It’s a club. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“No, I saw you with the guys. On the couch.”
“What? West, I was dancing all night.”
“Dancing leaves hickeys on your neck?” A bright red blush pain
ted her cheeks suddenly. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t anything wrong.” Mattie pulled her cell phone out of her hoodie pocket and played with it for a second. With a smug smile, she held it so Em could see whatever was on the display. West grabbed her hand and turned the phone so he could see whatever had left Em so red and indignant.
Even though he’d seen it with his very eyes, seeing Em immortalized on the tiny screen with one guy pawing her breast and the other with his hand elbow deep up her skirt sent daggers through his chest.
“Just leave my car at my dad’s house,” Emeline ground out. “I’m riding home with Natalie.”
Chapter Six
Mattie stayed silent the whole ride home, stewing in her own self-pity. Part of her chastised herself for being such a wuss, but the rest of her felt like it needed the break from the constant show of inner strength.
She wanted West’s hands on her again. She sensed the need to dominate in him, and it thrilled her. She’d barely scraped the surface of his complexities, but she liked the dirt that was under her nails now.
With her arm propped up against the window, she rested her head on her arm and watched the woods alongside I-4 whiz by. K was a bastard, all about power and pain. His insistence at dominating her through torture and pain had scarred her inside.
She always thought she would run screaming from a man that had the same tendencies.
West was the same, but he was so different. Mattie craved being able to give control over to West. He wouldn’t abuse it. She knew he’d taken her to the highest places with it.
With K, it was the opposite. He came near her and she found herself changing into the weak little whore he said she was. He tore control from her.
West made her feel strong, as in control as he was. When he’d wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled while she had him in her mouth, there was something about the way he held her that promised respect.