Night Owl (The Night Owl Trilogy)
Page 6
He was right, fuck, he was right. The thought that any one of my neighbors could be watching Matt manhandle me thrilled me darkly.
I licked my lips. My mouth felt like it had been stuffed with sawdust. I had to do something, at least let him know what I was thinking.
"I do," I whispered. The words came hoarsely from my throat. "I like it, I... please, Matt... please."
Matt relented suddenly. His iron arm loosened and his possessive touch turned gentle, caressing my belly. He leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth.
A crackle of pure need shook me at the touch of his mouth. My tongue slipped out and flickered over his lips. God, give me more...
"I know," he said. "I know what you want, and I don't want to share you with the neighborhood."
Could have fooled me. The comeback died on my lips.
"Another time I'll make you ask. I'll make you say it and beg for it. But Hannah..." His voice faltered. Fuck, I loved that. "I need this, too."
Matt reached past me smoothly and opened the back door of his car.
"In you go, little bird. Get on your hands and knees. I'm going to take you from behind."
I swallowed. Why were those frank words so hot?
I didn't hesitate—but I could have. I could have turned and walked back to the house. Matt wasn't pushing me. He wasn't touching me at all.
Despite his strength and insistence, he was leaving this decision entirely up to me.
I brushed past him and climbed into the cool leather interior, struggling to master my shaking. Matt was right behind me. I could practically feel his eyes on my ass.
The car smelled brand new and was ridiculously spacious. Matt pulled the door closed behind us. I knelt over the large center console, knees on one side, hands on the other, and glanced sheepishly over my shoulder. My mouth fell open.
Matt was shoving down his jeans enough to free his cock. I strained to see as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. He got it out and I must have made some noise, because his eyes snapped up to mine. He smirked at me.
"Like what you see?" he murmured.
My eyes strayed helplessly back to his cock. Yes... please. I could only nod as I watched Matt stroke himself, his hand traveling lazily up and down that thick, intimidatingly long organ. His burning gaze was glued to my expression.
"Stare all you want," he said softly. "I'm hard for you. I saw you dancing, Hannah. At the bar. When will you dance for me? When will you put on a show for me?"
I hung my head and exhaled. My long curls spilled over the seat.
"I want you," I breathed.
He slid my tiny shorts down my ass and left them around my thighs. I heard him inhale sharply. Of course, I was still wearing the thong.
"Oh, you're bad, you're wicked," he groaned, spreading my cheeks and massaging my ass. "God, you're perfect. Look at you."
I parted my knees farther and was satisfied to hear the gesture drag another groan out of Matt. He was crumbling.
He pressed a finger to my sex, digging the satin thong into it and making me roll my hips back helplessly.
"Fuck, Hannah, fuck."
Note to self: wear thong, render Matt speechless.
He began fumbling for something in his pocket. A condom, I realized.
"No, I—" I stammered. "I have an IUD, I..."
I wanted it skin to skin. I wanted Matt to give it to me, now, hard. I wanted to be able to say these things, but all I could do was struggle not to drool.
Matt's eyes flickered to mine. In one motion, he pulled down my thong and climbed over me. My only warning that he was about to enter me came when I felt his plump head against my lips, his hand hastily positioning it.
"Ah, god!" I cried out as he slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt. I was so tight around him, or he was so big, or both—I felt like he might split me apart.
Matt gave a jagged moan as he entered me.
"Hannah! Ah fuck, Hannah."
My name fell from his lips endlessly, mixed with strings of expletives. He planted a hand against the seat and held one of my breasts as he fucked me. Every time he slid into me, his fingers squeezed at my breast.
He talked dirty the whole time. Each stroke of his cock drove me higher. He told me I was wet and tight for him. He told me it almost hurt. He told me I needed a good long fucking and that I was his—his slut, his baby, that I made him so hard, that he was going to fuck me again and again and again.
I wanted to meet Matt's thrusts, but our close quarters and the pressure of his hips kept me jammed against the console. My clit pressed into the blunt edge of it.
I started to writhe—back onto Matt's cock, down against the console.
"Oh, god, Matt, I..."
Later there would be time to feel mortified about humping a piece of Matt's one hundred thousand dollar car.
At the moment, Matt wasn't in much better shape.
"I need to come," he moaned. "Baby I need to come."
"Do it," I panted. His simple admission sent me over the edge. My body squeezed and soaked his sex. He shuddered against me, crawling close to come deep inside.
Reality floated away.
Sweat dripped from my chin to the seat.
When the pleasure released me, I sagged against the console and lay there gathering my breath. Matt's strong hands dragged me onto his lap.
His arms enfolded me. I nuzzled into him, heedless of my tangled clothes.
"Little bird." He kissed the top of my head. "My little bird."
My motor skills had finally returned, though my powers of speech were still at large. I brushed my fingers over his chest and kissed his neck. I breathed in the clean scent of him.
Little bird, he called me. His little bird. And somehow, it made me feel like the most precious thing in the world.
CHAPTER 9
Matt
_____
HANNAH TUGGED AT her shorts as we waited for the AC to clear the fogged windows.
My bravado aside, I hoped to hell that none of Hannah's neighbors saw our performance. We could be hauled off for indecent exposure. How awkward. And more: the thought of another man actually seeing Hannah's body made my blood boil.
I don't share well.
I just loved humiliating Hannah. I loved the way she squirmed when I exposed her.
"I hate to tell you this," I said, glancing over as she picked at her boxers, "but no possible arrangement of those shorts will bring them into the realm of modesty. Give up."
I reached over and pushed the tiny shorts up her thighs. My hand drifted between her legs. I could feel how swollen her pussy was in the wake of our exercise.
Hannah parted her legs as I touched her. Fuck. I could go again, right now. And again, and again, and again. Anything to get this fever out of my body.
"I thought that fucking you would clear my head a little," I admitted. I stared through the windshield as I rubbed at Hannah through her shorts. "No such luck. Also, will you be communicating with me any time soon? I'm aware of my capacity to leave women speechless, but this is somewhat extreme."
I grinned over at Hannah. She was staring down at my hand. Tentatively, she began to run her fingertips up and down my forearm. I clenched my teeth.
She had no idea what her touch did to me.
"It... it's hard," she sighed. No kidding love. "Hard to speak with you... doing this."
"Sorry." I withdrew my hand, planting it firmly on the wheel. "There."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hannah watching me.
"Okay." She laughed breathlessly. "Okay, maybe it's hard to speak near you, period."
"Try. I can't read your mind."
"Okay. Um." She poked the Enform display in the dash. "Fancy. I guess you can fly to the moon in this car, huh?"
"Not quite." I chuckled. "But you can get a massage, adjust the temperature of every seat, order movie tickets or make dinner reservations, get directions, and—" I opened Pandora. "10 Mile Stereo" by Beach House filled the car.
"—listen to music, of course."
"I like it." Hannah hunkered down in her seat and smiled, which made me smile. "A boy and his toys."
"Yup. I almost brought the LFA tonight, it's my baby. Not enough room though."
Hannah giggled.
"Why Matt, what ever do you mean, not enough room?"
I smirked and shook my head. Sure, I was getting a little overexcited about my cars, but the small talk was bringing Hannah back to earth.
"Oh, by the way. Matt, seriously, a rabbit? Please tell me that sweet creature is more than your late-night chick magnet."
"He serves many functions."
I revved the engine and ran a hand through my hair. I wanted to fuck Hannah or drive. Or both. I couldn't sit here burning up in her atmosphere.
"You want to go for a drive?" I said. "I know you must be tired, but..."
"Could we? Yeah, let—" Hannah glanced out the window. I saw what she saw: the world still sleeping, pretty lawns and dark houses, and her borrowed coat crumpled in the grass. Our night. "Let's go," she said.
I pulled away from the curb and drove east, leaving the lights of the city farther behind. The smooth speed of the car relaxed me. Fuck, I had been so tense until then—even after I came. I was holding back. I wanted everything more: to pinch Hannah harder, squeeze her harder, spank her harder, fuck her harder—but I didn't want to scare her off.
"His name is Laurence," I said. "I named him after Laurence Sterne. Geniuses, both of them. Anyway, he's a dapper guy, very intellectual. And no, he's not my female bait. Clearly I need no assistance luring females into the night."
I flashed a grin at Hannah, who laughed and rolled her eyes.
I needed to see her in the daylight. I needed to be naked with her.
"I got him when I first moved out here. I was lonely, I don't know. Someone said they're quiet, clean pets. And that's the story of Laurence." I turned up the music. "Billie Holiday" by Warpaint was playing. Perfect: mellow music, the night stretching ahead of me, and Hannah in my car. I let myself really smile. "Surprised you don't own a rabbit, Hannah."
She caught my double entendre; I could tell by the way she laughed.
"I wish. I only had two toys, and... I don't know. Too many memories attached to them. Besides, one was half broken. I tossed them before the move."
"That's a pity. But now you have me."
"Yeah..." Hannah's voice was soft.
Now you have me. Fuck, I hadn't meant to say that.
We drove through the prairie for two hours, talking and listening to music and sometimes sitting in silence. We spoke about nothing important. It was nice not to have to dodge questions.
Every half hour, I asked if Hannah was tired. No, she insisted, no way, and she smiled at me in a way that made me ache.
We stopped by a walking trail that ran out through the scruffy grass.
"Let's go," Hannah said. "The stars will be crazy."
I got a blanket from the trunk of my car and we walked down the trail, Hannah's eyes on the sky, my eyes on Hannah. She was beautiful.
After a while, she reached for my hand.
I found a soft spot off the trail—no easy task in the Colorado prairie—and spread out the blanket. Hannah sprawled across it. She grinned up at me.
"Hog," I chuckled.
"There's space," she said, "on top of me."
While I gazed down at her, Hannah wriggled out of her shorts and thong and tugged her cami up enough to bare her breasts to the night air. I was drunk looking at her. She parted her legs and held my gaze.
"Beautiful man. I wish you could see yourself. You look lost."
"I feel lost," I whispered.
Our pace was more sedate the second time. Hannah grasped my hair and guided my face to her breasts. I kissed them, sucked them, licked and bit them. She moaned as I fingered her. When I nuzzled my mouth into her pussy, she began to whimper.
"Touch your breasts," I ordered softly. I glanced up her body to see her hands move obediently to her breasts. I licked my lips. She smelled musky. She tasted fiery and sweet. I went back to work as Hannah kneaded her breasts and issued wild, indecent noises into the night.
Soon I was too hard to think. I fumbled with my jeans and freed my cock. As I crouched over Hannah's sex, three fingers inside of her and my lips, tongue, and teeth toying with her clit, I pumped my shaft.
She came moments before I did. She was still rigid with ecstasy when I climbed over her and milked my cum onto her sex.
"Perfect," I whispered.
Hannah reached for me.
I rolled her panting body onto mine and we laughed and held one another in the dark.
_____
The sun was out when I pulled up to Hannah's house. It was near six.
Hannah and I sat in the car trying to say goodbye. A black cloud settled over me at the thought of my empty apartment and a day apart from her.
When could I see her again? Would it be weird to ask?
"Well, it was nice to finally meet you," Hannah said, laughing halfheartedly.
I frowned at my phone. When all else fails, stare mopily at technology.
"Mm."
"Oh, okay." She nudged my shoulder. "What's up?"
"Nothing."
"Matt. I have no job and no obligations besides maybe driving my sister to work and walking the dog. We can hang out again, like, as soon as I wake up."
I glanced at her sharply. Was my neediness that transparent?
"Fine," I said. "Good. I'll call."
"After you get out of work?" she hedged.
Damn, work. Obviously Hannah was laboring under the impression that I had a day job. I had no desire to lie to Hannah more than I already was, but I definitely didn't need her to know about my career as a writer and my huge inheritance to boot.
I didn't want Hannah to see dollar signs when she looked at me.
I didn't want Hannah to see M. Pierce when she looked at me.
I wanted Hannah to see me, whoever I really was.
"Yeah," I said carefully. "I'll call you after work."
She beamed and leaned in to kiss my cheek. I turned and caught her face between my hands, bringing our lips together.
Despite last night and the best sex of my life, Hannah and I hadn't truly kissed yet.
She inhaled sharply and then melted against me. I moaned into her mouth. Her warm arms wound around my neck.
Finally, we drew apart and Hannah searched my eyes.
"No way," she mumbled. "Your eyes are green."
"Mm. My name is Matthew Sky. Matthew Robert Sky Jr."
Introductions, first kisses, even a good look at one another—Hannah and I had steamrolled over all of it in our frenzy.
"Sky," she repeated. Her dark eyes glittered. "Matthew Robert Sky Jr. I like it."
"That's convenient." I smirked. "Oh and... it was nice to meet you too, Hannah. More than nice." I trailed my hand down her chest. I felt her heart rate accelerating. I knew I needed to maintain the illusion that I had a job to get to, but at the moment I was more interested in where Hannah and I could have a morning quickie.
I looked toward the house just in time to see someone flouncing across the lawn.
"What the—"
"Oh god," Hannah groaned. She stumbled out of the car and tried to intercept the girl. It must have been Hannah's sister. Same dark hair, same pretty eyes and expressive mouth, but where Hannah had soft curves and flawless skin, this girl had tight muscle and tattoos. Oh, and one too many piercings.
The girl blew by Hannah and thrust her head in the open passenger-side window.
"Hey! Oh wow. Wow. Very nice..."
I glared ahead. I couldn't tell if she meant me or my car or both.
"Hi," I muttered.
"Ha! You must be Mr. Frostypants."
"And you must be the stripper."
"Damn straight. I'm Christine. Chrissy if you like." She slapped the side of my car. "I'm a dyno girl. You know, the Dynamite Club. Ever been? It's d
owntown Boulder. Oh my god, you and Hannah should so come some time."
I glanced at Hannah, who was hovering behind her sister and wringing her hands.
"Did you hear that Hannah? Apparently we should come."
Hannah blanched, then blushed furiously. Adorable. She glared at me and began to tug on Chrissy's hand.
"Let's go," she hissed.
"I'm serious!" Chrissy insisted.
"I can tell," I said, grinning helplessly, "but I think the last thing your sister and I want to see is you shaking your tits, no offense hun."
"Oh my god, not when I'm working you doofus. Seriously though, couples have a lot of fun. Think about it!"
"Okay going now bye!" Hannah waved frantically at me and hauled her sister back toward the house.
I waved and then sat motionless behind the wheel.
What the hell...
The night had been surreal, but Hannah's crazy sister beat all. I was laughing as I pulled away from the curb. In a way, I was grateful for Chrissy's interruption. I didn't know if anything else could have pulled me from Hannah.
When I got home, I refreshed Laurence's water and went straight to my desk.
Sleep could wait.
My latest project was open on the computer screen—a pseudo dystopia titled The Surrogate. Until Hannah, the writing was going really well. Even though I had never written science fiction (in fact I hated the genre, until this story got hold of me), I knew The Surrogate could turn out to be my most important work.
But the novel could wait.
I minimized Word, opened Firefox, and navigated to lelo.com.
I had some shopping to do.
CHAPTER 10
Hannah
_____
I FROWNED AT the list I was supposed to be preparing for my mother.
Geez, she hadn't been kidding about delegating some of her work, but did I have any say in when I started? Evidently not, because I could have picked a better day.
I'd slept in until 2 p.m. and woke up horny. I remembered dream fragments—Matt's strong arms pinning me to him, the urgent press of his head to my slit—and for a panicked moment I thought I might have dreamed the whole night.