Dead Man District

by Julie Miller

  His hands rubbed big circles up and down her back. “Corie, sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything.”

  She pulled away, hating that he saw their relationship in such one-sided terms. Yes, he was incredibly strong and smart and just and wonderful, but he needed to understand that she intended to be an equal partner in this neighbors–turned–friends–turned something infinitely more precious that had grown between them. Kenny had kept her—like a trophy, like breeding stock. But he hadn’t loved her, and he’d destroyed any effort to love him.

  Matt Taylor was too good a man to feel like he still owed the world a debt. “I don’t have to do anything. But I want to.” She scooted off his lap and pushed him back into the cushions when he tried to stand with her. “Now. What do you need?” She didn’t have a lot to offer, but she would grant him whatever he asked. “Something to eat? Drink? I’ve got cold milk or apple juice. Or I can make more coffee. Sorry, I don’t have anything stronger. Do you need a quiet place to sleep for a while?”

  He grabbed her hand, stopping her from going into the kitchen. His gaze raked over her from head to toe, stopping with particular interest on her mouth and breasts, telling her one thing he wanted. One thing she would willingly give him.

  But then Evan dashed into the living room, reminding them both they weren’t alone. “Are you going to bed, Matt?” Evan asked, jumping onto the sofa beside his favorite hero. “Mom said it’s way past my bedtime. Is it past yours?”

  “Yeah, bud. Your mom was just telling me that I need to get some shut-eye.”

  Evan looked crestfallen. “Oh. You’re going back to your apartment now? You’re leaving?”

  Matt glanced up at Corie, and she answered the question he hadn’t even asked. “He’s staying with us tonight, sweetie.”

  “Yay!” Evan’s cheer was cut off by a yawn that Matt quickly echoed.

  Corie squeezed her son’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed so Matt can get the sleep he needs, too.”

  “Okay. ’Night, Matt.” Evan fell forward across Matt’s chest, winding his arms around his neck.

  Matt’s long arms gently completed the hug. “Good night.”

  Evan sat back, his eyes narrowed in an earnest frown. “Do you want my dragon to keep the bad things away for a while? I put his wings back on him and fixed his face.”

  Matt squeezed Evan to his chest again and brushed a kiss against his soft brown hair. “Nah. You keep him with you tonight. But thanks for havin’ my back. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” And then Evan bounced off the couch and ran to his room, heedless of the two wide-eyed adults staring after him.

  After the door to Evan’s room closed, Matt glanced up to Corie. “Is that okay? He really does mean a lot to me. He...feels like family.”

  Corie smiled as the lingering warmth from Matt’s kiss expanded to bathe her heart in sunshine. “I’m very okay with that. After all, if you’re going to be in a relationship with me, you’re going to be in a relationship with my son. And I can’t think of a finer role model for him.”

  Although she sensed that he wanted to ask what she meant by relationship, Corie focused on the offer she’d made. “Close your eyes and rest, Matt. It’ll take me ten minutes to get Evan back to sleep. Then I’ll come back and slice you another piece of that pie if you want.”

  His dark lashes were already brushing his cheeks as she chastely kissed the top of his head and hurried after Evan. “Don’t you worry about us—or anything else—for ten minutes. That’s an order.”

  By the time Evan had dozed off and she’d changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth, Matt was sound asleep on the couch. His long frame was spread out with his feet hanging off one end of the couch and his head angled up on the armrest at the other. His staunch expression that was more serious than handsome while he was awake had relaxed in slumber, easing the harsh line of his mouth. This rare glimpse of boyish abandon invited her to run her fingers across the crisp dark hair at his temple and press a kiss there.

  She was glad she could do this little thing for him, giving him a quiet sanctuary free from worry and guilt, even if just for a few minutes. Because she was certain there was plenty to worry about in their future, judging by Kenny’s vindictive behavior and the promise of his own personal retribution plastered across the bedroom walls below hers.

  Even though this was a different apartment, and her door and windows here had been checked multiple times by Matt and at least three brothers and an uncle, the last place she wanted to go was her own room. Not alone, at any rate. Not by the fire escape window, where they suspected Kenny had lurked on at least one occasion. Corie feared that if she went into her bedroom and closed her eyes, all she would see were the vile, violent things on the walls right below hers.

  Shaking off that unpleasant thought, she checked the front door to make sure it was secure. She needed sleep, too. Her bedroom might feel off-limits, but there was a cushy chair out here where she often fell asleep reading a book. After turning off the lamp, Corie retrieved a couple of throws from the hall closet. She came back to untie Matt’s boots and tug them off as quietly as she could without waking him. Then she spread one of the throws over his sleeping body.

  He’d earned his rest. He’d earned her gratitude and admiration. He’d earned her trust and compassion. She tucked a pillow beneath his head and kissed his grizzled cheek. Even though she smelled the soap from his shower, she still detected a whiff of the smoke from the fires he’d fought today and tonight. It felt so right, having him here. It was reassuring to know he was safe, too. For a little while, at least. She thought of him as the embodiment of security. But tonight, she would be the one to give him shelter. She would be what he needed tonight. Something tight and guarded unfurled in her chest as she gazed down at the man whose face was softened by the shadows.

  She really had fallen for this good man.

  Maybe she hadn’t been as careful with the boots as she’d thought. Maybe this alert, wary man had simply sensed her presence. Or maybe she’d projected her wish into his head.

  Before she turned away, Matt grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the couch with him. “I guess I needed a little more than ten minutes. Is this okay?” he asked, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest, spooning behind her. “I’ll go back to my own apartment if you want.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she said as he pulled the blanket over them both. The heat of his body snugged so closely to hers quickly made her drowsy. This was bliss, to feel so important, so warm and wanted by a man. This was the dream she’d always had about finding the right man, and she drifted slowly, contentedly toward that dream.

  But then Matt suddenly tensed behind her, his breath a sharp huff against the nape of her neck. “Dead bolt?”

  Corie laughed and turned in his arms. “Already taken care of.”

  There wasn’t much room to maneuver on the couch, but she ended up flat on her back, smiling up at his confused expression. “What did I say?”

  “Dead bolt. I think it’s becoming my code word that means you care. You say it to me every night when you leave.”

  He feathered his fingers through her loose hair, smiling down at her. “So, I don’t have to come up with flowery words or recite any poetry to impress you?”

  She grinned at the joke. “I don’t think that’s your style. It’s not mine, either. I like honest and straightforward.”

  His eyes were dark, pools of midnight in the shadows above her. “I saw a man die in front of me tonight. Plunged to his death and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to save him.” His fingers tightened briefly against her scalp and then he was rolling back against the cushions, his arm thrown over his eyes. Tears pricked her own eyes at the pain in his voice. “A little too honest and straightforward, hmm? Sorry about that.”

  Corie turned into him, huggi
ng him tightly. “Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was a little preoccupied tonight.”

  “Taking care of my troubles when you had your own.” She pressed a kiss to the warm skin above his collar, stretched against him to tickle her lips against his stubbled neck and sup on the strong beat of his pulse there. “What do you need? How can I help?”

  She nibbled on the point of his chin before batting his arm away from his face and crawling right on top of him to reach his mouth and offer him the gentle absolution of her kiss. Her legs parted and tangled with his, sliding between his muscular thighs, already discovering the responsive hardness behind the zipper of his jeans. The nap of her flannel bottoms caught against the denim and muscle underneath, creating pockets of vivid awareness where the material caught and pulled against her skin.

  His lips chased after hers as she moved to explore the hard line of his jaw and the surprisingly supple spot beneath his ear that seemed to be packed with a bundle of nerves that made him gasp for breath. She rode the rise and fall of his chest as Matt sucked in several deep breaths to control his responses to her bold exploration. “I’m not good at explaining what I feel. What I need.”

  “Then show me.”

  At last, his arms settled around her again. He branded her butt with the palm of his hand and pulled her fully on top of him, dragging her most sensitive places against the hard friction of his body. Giving him the freedom to express himself without words seemed to unleash something powerful and hungry inside him.

  With a ragged breath that sounded like her own needy moan, he palmed the back of her head and held her mouth against his, feasting on her lips, demanding she open for him before his tongue swept inside to claim hers. With her body draped over his like a blanket, they didn’t need the throw she’d brought from the closet. They were already generating all the heat either of them could need. The throw quickly landed on the floor beside them, and the knit pajama top she wore followed right behind it.

  Matt’s hands were firebrands against her bare skin, urging her toward a euphoric release she’d never experienced before. She found the hem of his sweater and T-shirt and tugged them up his torso. Her hands were equally greedy as they slid inside to explore his strong, wide chest. She felt a quiver of muscle here, the tickle of crisp curls of hair there. The turgid male nub poking to attention beneath the stroke of her fingers.

  Her world rocked in a dizzying circle as Matt suddenly sat up, spilling Corie into his lap. She helped him peel off his shirt and sweater, and then she slipped back in his arms, the heat of skin against skin making her feverish with desire. Making love with Kenny had never lasted this long, much less driven her into this frenzy of need, the eagerness to pleasure, this pure delight in being pleasured.

  He lifted her slightly and dipped his head to pull the tip of her breast into his mouth. “Matt,” she gasped, unfamiliar with the fiery arrows zinging from her sensitive nipples down to the weepy heaviness between her legs. “Is this...? Are we...?”

  “I want you.” She clawed her fingers into his hair, holding his wicked mouth against her straining breast as he worked the pebbled nipple between his tongue and lips and teeth and squeezed the other breast in his hand. “I want you,” he repeated on a husky moan against her skin.

  She had no problem understanding what he needed from her. Corie hoped she was being equally clear. “I’m yours.”

  To hell with atonement. This brave, good man needed healing, not penance. He needed to believe that whatever he’d done as a child did not make him the man he was today. He needed to know that he was perfect and loved. In her arms, he was most assuredly loved.

  “Floor okay?” he breathed against her mouth before reclaiming her lips. “Need...more space.”

  Corie’s answer was to lean back over the edge of the couch and pull Matt with her. They toppled onto the floor together, her landing eased by the rug and blanket and the support of Matt’s arm. Then there was a fumble of hands, both eager and out of practice, as they shed the remainder of their clothes and pulled a condom from Matt’s wallet. But every touch was a heady arousal, every bump was a perfect caress.

  Then Matt was on top of her, sliding into her. Corie closed her eyes to savor her body’s pure, primal response to his weight making the pressure building inside her almost unbearable. But he was holding himself back, balancing himself on his arms when she wanted to feel all of him against her.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she caught him grimacing at the struggle being so patient with her was costing him. “Matt.” She framed his face between her hands, ran them over his shoulders. She linked her heels around his hips. “Let go, Matt. Don’t hold back. You’re safe with me.” She arched her body up into his. Her head fell back as he sank deeper inside her and began to move. As he took her to the peak and they crashed over together, Corie hugged him tight with her arms and her legs. “And I’m safe with you.”

  Sometime later, after redressing in a layer of clothes in case Evan should awaken early and find them together, Corie and Matt were spooning again on the couch, cocooned by the warmth of the blankets and each other’s bodies. The weight of Matt’s arm was a possessive band around her waist, but she didn’t feel trapped. The tension that had consumed him earlier had eased, leaving her feeling cherished and necessary, not used the way sex with Kenny had been.

  This was how it was supposed to be between a man and a woman.

  Matt’s body was a furnace at her back as he brushed her hair off her neck and whispered against her ear. “Dead bolt.”

  And as sleep rose to claim her, she smiled and closed her eyes. “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  SMOKE.

  Matt blinked his eyes open to the darkness of early dawn, unsure if the haze in his vision was due to the hangover of sleep deprivation or if something more was going on here. When he had slept, he’d slept deeply, contentedly. But two hours wasn’t nearly long enough. Corie’s couch was half a foot too short for his long body, as the stiffness in his neck would attest to.

  But Corie herself was a dream. The woman liked to snuggle in close as she slept in his arms, either teasing him with the pillowed mounds of her lush breasts flattened against his chest, or rubbing that sweet, round bottom against his groin. The weight of her in his arms had given him a subconscious sense of reassurance that she was safe—and an arousal that had led to a second, more leisurely, yet no less incendiary round of lovemaking following that cathartic, healing tumble onto the rug where she’d encouraged him to be his big, bad self with her and let his fears and guilt and haunting memories of a boy who had never been enough be consumed by their mutual passion.

  He loved Corie McGuire. He hadn’t said those exact words, but he’d felt them. He’d shown her.

  Did she understand?

  And then the reality of the moment slammed through him like shots from a gun and he sat up, wide-awake.

  He was alone. Her apartment was filled with smoke.

  His nose never lied. Where was the fire?

  “Corie?” Matt tossed the blanket aside and stepped into his boots. He’d lace them up later. Right now, he needed to understand what was going on here, and he needed to find her. He grabbed his wrinkled sweater and slipped it on over his T-shirt and jeans. “Corie!”

  “In here.” A true mother, she’d run into Evan’s room first and woken him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the boy was groggy, hopefully from being unexpectedly roused from bed and not from smoke inhalation.

  Matt knelt in front of him, checking for any signs of pulmonary distress. “Take a deep breath for me, bud.” No coughing fit. He squeezed Evan’s shoulder as he stood, telling him everything would be all right. Then he reached over to cup the side of Corie’s neck and jaw, sifting his fingers into the heavy silk of her hair. “You?”

  “I’m fine.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “Why didn�
�t the smoke alarm go off?”

  He wanted the answer to that question, too. But whys were for later. “Shoes, jeans on both of you now. We’re evacuating until I know what’s going on.”

  Corie steered Evan back into his room. “Winter coats?”

  He nodded.

  While they dressed, Matt called it in and made a quick tour of her apartment. In the kitchen he found that the smoke detector had no battery in it. It didn’t take any stretch of the imagination to believe Kenny Norwell had entered the apartment again at some point to sabotage Corie’s safety protocols. But if he was so hell-bent on getting his son back, why would he endanger Evan like this?

  There was a bigger game being played here, and Matt worried he was already a step behind whatever Norwell had planned.

  Protecting Corie and Evan was still job one. The police and his father’s arson team could work on taking down Chad Meade and his firebug for hire—Matt’s focus was much closer to home.

  But he couldn’t find an ignition point from any of the usual suspects—appliances, electrical outlets, improperly stored chemicals. The floor in Corie’s bedroom felt spongy as he jogged across it to check the fire escape. Flames and smoke were pouring out of the window right below Corie’s, blocking their descent. He didn’t need a degree in fire science to understand what was happening.

  He closed the door behind him and ran to the living room, gathering Corie and Evan and leading them straight to the door, where they all put on their coats. Corie looped her bag over her shoulder, and Evan had grabbed his most prized possession—his dragon.

  “The apartment below yours is on fire,” he said, helping Evan zip up that too-tight coat of his.

  Corie pulled a stocking cap over Evan’s head. “Mr. Caldwell’s... Kenny set his own place on fire?”