“I’m going to go get us something to eat. Then we should probably get some more work done.” Matt smiled at her as he kissed her lightly on the nose. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget the bacon this time.” She laughed. For the first time in her life, she felt truly happy. Only one thing could make this moment better, but that would have to wait for tonight.
Chapter 29
Matt had to all but beg the nurses to let him through with the bag of hamburgers and fries. They were insisting that no one should be eating something as unhealthy as what was in that bag, regardless of how wonderfully inciting the smell might be. He was just about to try running for it when the nurse who had walked in on them an hour earlier came around the corner. Coming face to face with him again, she blushed and allowed him to pass, chiding her co-workers for arguing with a police detective, all the while giving him a knowing smile.
Elizabeth looked so much better when he slid through the door into her room. Bucky stood at her feet, mewing and trying to reach him. Grinning at the little dog, he reached into the bag and pulled a small wrapper from the top. Fanning open the paper, he uncovered a small regular hamburger he had gotten, especially for him. Setting in on the ground at the foot of the bed, Bucky jumped down, bounced merrily for a second, and then began devouring it. Taking his seat next to her, he handed her the delicious present waiting just inside the bag. She eyed him suspiciously and he laughed, jokingly adding, “bacon included.” They ate together, playfully stealing each others fries.
When lunch was finished, and Bucky was stretched out, contentedly full and asleep at the foot of the bed, Matt began asking her questions about the attack in her apartment. She was surprisingly calm and clear as she recounted the events of the night in detail. Matt had gotten a call while he was out getting their lunch that the comatose assailant had died, a cerebral hemorrhage had claimed him, so there was only one suspect left. Unfortunately, he was sedated and according to his attending physician, he would be useless to them until his concussion symptoms, a rather sever subdural hematoma, had subsided. They were going over the events one last time when her doctor came in, an hour late of course. She had wanted him to stay, but the doctor had insisted that he step out. Picking up Bucky, Matt moved into the hallway and stood, waiting, while they had their meeting.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, the doctor called him back in. Elizabeth was now dressed in scrubs, since he had forgotten to bring her a change of clothes, and hers from the day before had been taken into evidence. It bothered him a little to think that she had gotten dressed in front of the doctor, who, while most likely a strictly professional man, was eying her with a look Matthew was sure he recognized. On his way out he nodded to Matt, and said, “We just signed her discharge papers. You can take her home now, but she still needs rest. Don’t push her too hard.” Matt grimaced at his suggestive phrasing, realizing that he was indeed about to take her home―his home.
She was gathering up the few belongings that she intended to take with her as he shifted nervously. Here it was, time to go, and he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. Part of him wanted to rush her home, sweep her into his apartment and keep her there forever, but the rational part of him, the part that wanted to give her what tradition dictated, knew that taking her home would be tantamount to failure. Arguing with himself in private, she suddenly appeared in front of him, all soft curves and a warm smile. “Well, are we going?”
“Elizabeth, maybe you would be more comfortable, feel safer, in a hotel? Or I could drive you to your aunt and uncle’s place? Or Alex’s? I mean, my apartment would be strange and foreign, and you need familiar right now…” He was rambling, mumbling nervously, unable to tell her what he was really afraid of.
“Oh tosh. I trust you, Matt. I’ll sleep on your sofa or something. Honestly, the only place I think I’ll feel safe right now is with you.” She savored the tensing breath that seemed to lift his chest a little. She meant every word, she trusted him completely. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my distance and we can do the whole dating thing. We can start tonight. A quiet dinner and maybe a movie? What do you say?” There was something secretively devious behind her eyes for one brief moment, but then it was gone. Despite how compelling her argument was and the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to argue against it, he still felt uneasy about bringing her into his life so resoundingly.
Sighing, he inwardly admitted defeat and nodded. Scooping up Bucky, he guided her out of the hospital to the car and steered for his apartment. She was peaceful and quiet beside him. For some reason her calm only served to agitate him more. He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and she was acting as if she was headed shoe shopping. How was he going to manage to control himself around her? It was hard enough when they were on neutral ground, the police station, crime scenes, but in his private space, so far away from the reminders of who they were out here in the world, he doubted he had the strength to resist the luscious temptation of her.
Elizabeth did her best to act nonchalant. Matt needed to believe that everything would be fine, that she trusted him completely, and she did, but she had no intention of waiting for a long string of dates to be with him. Once she had made the decision to give herself to him, there was nothing left for her but the moment, and she had a plan which she was already putting it into action. She remained aloof but kind as they rode up, alone, in the surprisingly slow elevator. As he unlocked the door, she casually sauntered into his world. She did her best to restrain the shocked gasp that crawled up her throat. It wasn’t what she had expected, save for the rather impressive media center that put even hers to shame. His walls were bare and boring and the few pieces of furniture that were scattered around the great room of his place were cold, neutral to the point of boring, and looked rather uncomfortable. No nick-knacks or pillows, no color anywhere, and very few pictures left the space feeling absurdly massive and empty. It was, structurally at least, an amazing space. The far wall was entirely glass and with his apartment being on the thirty-second floor, it afforded him a view of the New York skyline that was simply incredible. Resolving to tackle this problem later, already filing ideas away in her head for paint colors and pillow fabric, she scanned the rest of the apartment.
Spying her luggage standing between two closed doors along the right wall, she smiled slyly to herself. Putting her plan into motion, she strolled into the living room and probed the couch with her delicate fingers, as if assessing its sleep-ability. She found herself trying suddenly not to let the grimace the stiff, unforgiving cushion sent through her, show on her face. If her plan failed it would be a miserable night. Resolving that her plan simply couldn’t fail, she turned back to him. “So, do you want to cook or get take-out?” He couldn’t answer her, just stood there staring, watching her move about his rooms with such ease and confidence that one observing them might assume she was accustomed to being here. His face was frozen, bathed in awkward awe and aroused confusion, and she was eating it up. “Dinner and a movie, that’s what you promised me. Considering that,” she said, pointing at his entertainment center, “we can manage the movie part here just fine, so why go out for food? I feel like Italian, how about you?”
He looked completely flabbergasted, perfect. Stammering for a second, he managed to say, halfheartedly, “There’s a place about a block and a half from here that has great lasagna. If that’s what you want, I can get us some to-go.” His spirits seemed to lift a bit as she drew closer to him. He seemed too sad for her to keep her distance. She needed him off guard, not melancholy.
“That would be wonderful. While you’re gone, I think I’ll take a shower. Which door is your bathroom?” He shifted nervously for a second.
“Neither. The door on the right is a closet, the left one is the bedroom and the bathroom is off of that. Do you….need any help getting settled?” There was a playful tone to his voice as he finished and she nearly took him up on it, but she had her plan. Tisking him slightly, she turned him back toward the door and shooed him
out. He did manage to come back at her briefly, stealing a small kiss, before he stepped out of the apartment. Just before he closed the door, he told her to lock the deadbolt after he was gone, just in case. She did what he said, then she set about familiarizing herself with his home. She padded softly over to his bedroom door, as if she was doing something wicked and didn’t want to get caught. As the door swung open she gasped with her whole body.
His bedroom, a comparable expanse to the rest of his apartment, was completely different in every way. It was warm and cozy, and wonderfully personal. Over sized mahogany furniture, richly carved and deeply stained, stood around the room, encircling three distinctly defined spaces. The far wall was glass, just like in his living room, and stretching out before the view was his desk. It was scattered with papers and looked to be well used. Behind that was a sitting area with two wonderfully plush looking studio chairs flanking a table with several library books on top of it. Behind his reading area rose up an enormous king sized bed. Its four posts nearly reached the ceiling and she marveled at how tall the mattress was off the floor. Well over her belly button, she imagined she’d have to climb, or jump, to get into it. The bedding was a subtle gray pattern, but it was rich and soft. Everywhere she looked were pictures and memories, pieces of him. It was glorious.
Bucky, scratching at her ankle, pulled her from her reverie. Looking down at the little dog, she realized she was wasting precious time. Fetching her bags from the entry, she hefted them onto the bed and started rummaging through what he had gathered for her. She wasn’t about the start filling drawers with her things, but she did claim the top of his dresser and the reading chairs to lay her clothes out on. So far everything he had packed was what she had been expecting to find. Her dress slacks, and blouses, a few skirts, and sensible shoes, utterly professional, she mused. Then she pulled the lavender cocktail dress, neatly folded, from inside the bag. She smiled at it for a moment. That is unexpected. She had never actually worn it on a date, as it was a costume for the bait program. Well, that, and she had never actually been on a date. She had designed a few costumes, this, a suit dress, and that school uniform, that she used to lure in the predators. This one had been fairly successful, but the school uniform was by far her “best seller.” Grinning slyly, she decided to wear it tonight, just for him.
Continuing to rummage through the bags, she found the over stuffed pocket full of her unmentionables. She had to laugh out loud at the ridiculous way they had been forced into the pocket in huge handfuls. From the look of it, he had simply emptied the entire drawer into the bag without even looking. She started sorting out her underwear, imaging him blushing as he had stuffed them, willy-nilly, into the pocket. She was trying to find the most alluring set she had to wear under the dress when she pulled her violet, silk, short robe out of the pile. It had been folded in her drawer and he probably hadn’t even noticed he had grabbed it. A sinfully lush thought came to her and she tossed the dress onto the chairs as well. This robe would do perfectly to heat his blood to boiling. She moved quickly, organizing her frilly things across the top of his dresser in a torturous buffet, designed exclusively for him.
She set Bucky’s food bowl and food aside, packed up her luggage pieces and tucked them under the massive bed. Grabbing up her toiletry tote, she made her way into his bathroom. Flipping the switch, a wonderfully appointed bathing room came into view. His apartment was amazing and, for a moment, she wondered how he could afford it. Looking over at the double-sinked counter top to her left, she felt a pang of loneliness. One sink was surrounded by his things, tooth brush, mouthwash, razor, deodorant, cologne, the objects necessary for his morning ablutions, while the other stood tragically empty. A funny sound to her right turned her head to see Bucky, lapping unceremoniously from the seat-up toilet. Scowling, she closed the lid and set out his little station, fetching a bowl from the kitchen for clean water. Ready to bathe, she saw a glass-door shower standing along the back wall, filled with his bottles, but she was more interested in the corner whirlpool garden tub next to it. It looked as if it had never been used before, but that was about to change.
Getting the water started, she unpacked her tote around the empty sink, another wonderful little dig at his self control. Fetching the robe, she shed her clothes and trailed them through his bedroom. Remembering the way the sight in her apartment had unsettled him and hoping that this would have the same effect. Under the guise of Bucky, she left his bedroom door standing half open and the bathroom door cracked. Sinking into the hot, writhing water, she allowed her hands to flow over her body, anticipating the feeling of his doing the same, and very soon.
Chapter 30
Elizabeth was just finishing up with shaving her legs when Bucky jumped up from the soft mat in front of the tub, started barking, and ran from the bathroom. She tensed and sat up in the water nervously. The sound of the apartment door opening alarmed her until she heard Matt’s voice, talking sweetly to Bucky and she relaxed back into the water. A few seconds later, she heard him calling to her. Calling back, she shouted out that she was still in the tub, but that she would be out soon. Barely audible from the bedroom door she could hear him gasp at the scene she had laid out for him. Swearing under his breath, his uneven steps retreated back toward the kitchen. Finishing quickly, she drained the tub and dried her sweet smelling flesh. Swathing herself tightly in the silk robe, she strolled casually out into the main part of his apartment, still rubbing her damp, curly, cascade of hair with a hand towel in an effort to dry it.
Matt was standing at the kitchen counter plating the food for them. He glanced up at her absently and she watched, thrilled to the core, as his jaw dropped open and every muscle he had went rigid instantly. She blushed and shifted her bare feet nervously, rubbing her knees together, just to watch his eyes travel down her body to the motion. She had never felt so utterly wicked, so utterly desired. He was still gaping at her when she moved past him, making sure to swish her hips dangerously close to his thigh. Humming slightly, she opened his fridge and bent at the waist, positive she could feel his eyes still roving over her. On the off chance she was right, she rocked her hips slightly. The sound of his throaty, lustful groan bathed her in heat. Grabbing a couple of his beers, she stood up and moved to his table, adding them to the two place settings he had already set out.
“Uh, I should wash up before dinner. I’ll be right back.” He nearly ran from the room. For a moment she feared she had gone too far. That the shock of seeing her so casually dressed had steeled his resolve, rather than crumbling it. Taking his place at the counter, she finished plating the food and setting the table. She took her place and waited for him to return. When he did he was absolutely flushed, and grinning rather shyly. “I have to admit, you made my bathroom smell absolutely intoxicating.” Before he sat down he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned her head at the last second and was rewarded with a deeper kiss and a slight moan of pleasure. She would win this fight after all.
Their meal was actually quite pleasant, though the conversation felt a little strained. She knew what he wanted, she could feel it pulsating around him like radiation. It almost angered her how fiercely he was restraining himself. When their lovely, though quiet, dinner was finished, he cleared the table and moved to the sink to wash the dishes. Without looking directly at her, he said, “Do you want to pick the movie?” His voice was so stressed, but he was maintaining his distance. Drat. She was going to need to be a little more aggressive, which was a marvel, even to her. Rising from her chair, she stretched her arms over her head, raising the edge of the robe dangerously high, loving the way his body tensed to the point that it shook. Sliding up beside him, she reclined backward onto her elbows, arching her back and bringing her sumptuous body temptingly close to him. Then, tormenting his senses further, she proceeded to engage in a one-sided debate about the genre of the movie they should watch, heaving sighs loudly and laughing seductively. He nearly vibrated with the effort he was exerting to restrain h
imself. When he turned to put the now clean dishes away, she hoisted herself nimbly up onto the counter. He hesitated across the narrow kitchen, having heard the motion and knowing the sight that awaited him, before turning back to face her.
“Elizabeth, what are you doing?” When he turned on her, she could see his jaw clinched in frustration. When he took a small, timid, step toward her, she snared him in her legs and hauled him into to her, wrapping herself gracefully, and snugly, around him so that he couldn’t slip free. She pulled him so close that she could feel the heat emanating from him, as if he was a furnace set on high, and it thrilled her to the bone.
He couldn’t get away from her, not that he really wanted to. She was holding him so intimately now that the erection he had been hiding since she came out of the bedroom, wearing that amazingly small robe, was so intense it physically hurt him. She’s trying to kill me, that’s what she’s doing, he mused, and she was very near success. It had tested his resolve to see her clothes scattered on his floor, he had nearly fainted at seeing the display of her frillies out in the open in his bedroom, and the overwhelming smell of her in his bathroom had left him reeling, but this was very likely beyond him. To keep from hauling her away to his bedroom, draped over his shoulder like a caveman, he pushed his fists into the hard counter top as he squeezed his eyes shut. “This is cruel, Elizabeth. You know how I feel, what I want for us. I don’t want to take advantage of you, not now, not ever.”
His voice was choking him. When he felt her nuzzle her nose and chin against his neck, he shook with the pleasure of it, but he didn’t return it. He didn’t dare. The second he gave in he feared it would all be over. Her mouth brushed lightly over the taunt tendons of his neck, as she purred at him, “I know what you want, Matt, and I adore the fact that you want it. But I also know what you need. I can feel that, too.” At the words, she rocked her hips against his rock hard manhood and he couldn’t help the moan it elicited from him. “I know what you need because I need,” as she rasped heavily around his neck, her tongue touched him lightly, running along the line of his jaw to the underside of his chin, and he gasped.
Little Belle Gone Page 15