Night Owl (The Night Owl Trilogy)

by M. Pierce

  "Yes, fine."

  Matt stared at a wall.

  Again, I felt that unexpected, fierce pity.

  Matt had been waiting for me to ask, I realized, but he would never have imposed.

  I remembered him admitting that he didn't have many friends. If I hadn't invited him, what would he do?

  I pictured Matt sitting alone on his balcony.

  "Matt, god." I hugged him. He lifted me off my feet and I squeaked. "You should have asked. I don't want to be apart from you, believe me."

  "Hannah... there are so many things I want to tell you." He crushed me to his chest. He kissed my temple. I would have given anything for a look at his expression—why did he sound so distraught?—but my feet were dangling and my face was pressed into his neck.

  We got lunch in the city. Matt stopped at a florist and bought two lily bouquets. He shoved one at me.

  "Flowers," he muttered.

  "I see that." I gave him a peck on the cheek. "You're so adorable. So sweet and strange. Thank you, Matt."

  "Mm. Do you think I should bring anything? Food? Potato salad? Buns?" I recognized the restless look in his eyes. It was the same look I'd seen when he drove me to dinner in Boulder, the same look I'd seen when I was inspecting his apartment. Matt in anxious mode.

  I was starting to learn some things about Matt, even if I didn't understand them. For one, he was most comfortable in his car. Given any remotely social setting, his confidence did a carriage-to-pumpkin level transformation and he became this: endearingly awkward no-eye-contact guy staring at his phone and jangling the keys in his pocket.

  I hauled him back to his car.

  "No, no buying food, relax. This isn't a formal thing Matt. We'll just chill."

  "Chill," he repeated.

  "Yeah, chill. If you're uncomfortable, we can hide in my room."

  A little smile played on his lips.

  "Hide," I repeated, emphasizing the word, "not bang and potentially embarrass me in front of my family."

  "I can be quiet."

  I tried not to think about the litany of dirty talk that poured out of Matt every time we fooled around.

  You're a slut for me, aren't you Hannah?

  I love the color of your cunt.

  Faster, Hannah.

  I'm hard for you.

  Fuck. I was not going to arrive home with my thong soaked.

  "I'm not so sure about that," I said.

  "Then I view today as an opportunity to prove it." Safe in the fortress of his car, Matt was all smirks. "Anyway, I'm capable of exchanging pleasantries. I won't be bunkering in your room. I am relaxed. This is me relaxed."

  Relaxed my ass. Matt became increasingly agitated as we neared the house. He sneered and adjusted the rearview mirror. He drummed his long fingers on the wheel.

  And he sped past my house.

  "My... house is back there," I said, peering at him.

  "Mm."

  Matt drove like a bat out of hell to the nearest King Soopers and proceeded to buy an embarrassing amount of potato salad and chips.

  "Stop buying things!" I wailed as he dragged me down the aisles.

  "It makes me feel better," he snapped.

  In the end, all I could do was laugh as Matt glared at the various brands of chips and muttered to himself, the pile in his arms growing.

  My mother was speechless when we finally arrived. I couldn't blame her. Daisy was barking and making a puddle in her excitement and I had four tubs of potato salad in my arms and a tall handsome stranger at my side with three bags of chips, two jars of salsa, and a bouquet of lilies, which he had the good grace not to thrust into my mom's chest.

  I'd never brought home a guy who gave my mom flowers.

  Matt just about charmed her pants off. As she thanked him profusely for the flowers and food, she kept shooting these intense, meaningful looks at me.

  Ugh, I knew exactly what she was getting at. Mom harangued me and my sister on a regular basis about "not making the same mistakes she made" and being sure to "marry a rich man." Matt reeked of wealth, even in casual clothes. His shorts? Boss Black. I'd snuck a peek during one of our abortive efforts to dress.

  Chrissy came bounding into the kitchen. Matt was petting Daisy, who had her head on his knee and was whining and swishing her tail a mile a minute. It was surreal to watch Matt's magnetism work on my family, even the damn dog. At least it wasn't just me.

  "Hey kids!" Chrissy grinned at us.

  "Hey." I gave her a flat look. "Thanks for texting to check up on me."

  "I... didn't text."

  "Exactly."

  "Aw, come on." She bumped my hip. "I didn't want to interrupt your afternoon delight."

  Matt made a choking sound that might have been a laugh.

  Mom's eyes lit up.

  I dragged Chrissy into the backyard, my face on fire.

  "How about let's not make sexual innuendos in front of mom?" I rolled my eyes. "And for the record, that's nighttime delight, morning delight, and afternoon delight."

  Chrissy's jaw dropped.

  Worth it.

  Watching Matt with my family that day was pure pleasure, and I'm not exactly sure why. He shook hands with my dad and they quickly fell into conversation about the stock market. Even I couldn't get Matt's attention at that point. Dad offered him a beer and he politely declined, though later Matt brought a bottle to me.

  "I should have brought a six pack," he whispered. He wrinkled his nose as he handed me the Coors. Our fingers brushed and a jolt went through me. Our eyes met. Had he felt that?

  "Sorry my family's beer doesn't meet with your approval."

  "Mm, no help for it. At least I'm not drinking it."

  "Ooo, the snob emerges."

  "No help for that, either."

  I laughed and shoved him. I could feel mom, dad, and Chrissy staring at us. When I looked up, they all jumped back to their tasks, mom setting the table and dad grilling, Chrissy messing with an extension cord so she could get her CD player outside.

  Mom had to forcefully extract my brother from the basement. Jay came sulking out with a Frisbee. Matt grinned when he saw it.

  "Oh, a Frisbee," he said, sidling up to my brother. I could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant. So fucking cute. "Nice..."

  Matt plucked the Frisbee from my brother's hand, kicked off his flip-flops, and jogged across the lawn. Jay looked forever grateful for the absence of introductions.

  The table was set and dad was grilling and Chrissy was dancing scandalously on the lawn. Mom went in and out, lighting citronella candles. I leaned against the deck railing and watched Matt and my brother throw the Frisbee.

  It seriously wasn't right, especially when Matt decided to follow Jay's lead and shuck off his t-shirt. Holy Adonis in motion. He moved with effortless grace, his long limbs flexing as he tore after the Frisbee, and every time he leapt to catch it I would swear his shorts slipped lower on his hips. Was he doing this on purpose?

  I couldn't wring a glance out of him—even when I tried. I tossed my hair and cocked out my hip. I leaned forward, making my cleavage swell. I tried a little wave. Nothing.

  The boy was as bad as Daisy, speeding single-mindedly after the Frisbee.

  Hmph. Two could play at this game.

  I went inside and changed into a pair of tiny torn up jean shorts and a blue bikini top.

  Back outside, I leaned into the rail again and pretended to be enjoying the sun.

  Nothing.

  Matt laughed as Jay and Daisy collided.

  What the hell! Show the man a Frisbee and I no longer exist?

  Chrissy tugged on my arm.

  "Dance lesson time," she said. "Don't fight it, Hannah. I told you this was coming, and the time is now."

  I resisted for a moment. I was so not about to make a fool out of myself in front of Matt. But who said I'd make a fool out of myself?

  "Yeah." I smiled hesitantly. "Okay, let's do it. Teach me how to twerk."

  Chrissy squee
d and pulled me onto the grass by her CD player. Hip-hop throbbed out of the speakers. First she demonstrated, her hands on her knees and her booty popping to the rhythm, then she arranged my arms and legs and started coaching me through the motions. It was surprisingly easy. Once I got the basics down, she showed me how to throw in body rolls and make my ass jiggle like Jell-O. I could feel my jean shorts riding up.

  "This feels amazing!" I shouted way louder than necessary.

  I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Matt gaping at me. The Frisbee sailed past his head, narrowly missing it.

  Success.

  My parents aren't priers, thank god, so no one pestered Matt about his work or life as we ate. My twerking lesson also had more than the desired effect. I caught Matt watching me every time I looked at him. He slid his bare foot over mine. Fuck, I'd done this to myself.

  When mom and Chrissy started to clear the table, Jay darted back inside. Dad went to fiddle with the grill and avoid cleanup.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Matt was gazing at my little blue bikini top.

  "Why don't you show me around?" he said quietly.

  Another thing I was learning about Matt: this guarded, dark look in his eyes meant only one thing. I was about to get fucked.

  I took him on a tour of the house. I lingered upstairs, around people, and Matt followed me patiently. In fact, he seemed unusually interested in everything. He smiled at a picture of five-year-old me with curling pigtails.

  "The little bird," he said, touching the frame.

  We were in the living room. I shoved my hands into my back pockets.

  "Yup. And that's really about it. Home sweet home."

  Matt smirked at me.

  "Show me your room," he said. He closed the distance between us and seized my breast. I gasped. My hand flew to my mouth. In the next room, I could hear mom humming as she loaded the dishwasher. "Or I'll do this right here."

  Matt wasn't bluffing. He slid the little triangle of fabric off my breast and started to rub his thumb over my nipple. I staggered back.

  "Okay, okay!" I whispered. I adjusted my bikini top. "God, down boy."

  Matt laughed and I fake glared.

  Bossing me around in my own house! He had no limits, a fact I should have known by then. I also should have known better than to tease him with the dance, but maybe I did. Maybe knowing better was exactly why I did it.

  I wanted him in my house.

  I wanted him in my room, wanting me.

  I wanted him everywhere, more and more.

  CHAPTER 15

  Matt

  _____

  HANNAH'S ASS TWITCHED as she led me down to the basement.

  I felt my pulse accelerating. Too bad we needed to be quiet. After her show outside, I wanted to tie her up and give her the spanking of her life.

  Jay was in the main area of the basement, installed in front of a computer. There were two other computers, three gaming consoles, controllers, remotes, two old TV sets, and wires everywhere, not to mention empty soda cans and bags of chips.

  How depressing.

  Jay was smashing keys and leaning toward the screen, shouting into a headset like the one Hannah had. He didn't even look up as Hannah led me to her room.

  "Some view in there," I said as she closed and locked her door.

  I wanted to look around, but I couldn't tear my eyes off of Hannah. The little bikini top she wore barely covered her breasts and her jean shorts were like denim panties. I pulled her to me. Hannah threw her arms around my shoulders and began to kiss my neck.

  "Hannah, never deny me," I whispered. My hands traveled over her, squeezing and pulling. "Never deny me your beautiful body."

  "Never," she promised.

  "Seeing you in this..." I slowly untied her bikini and let the long strings dangle down her back. Seeing her in this had nearly given me a heart attack. I let the bikini fall. I undid her shorts and pushed them down her legs.

  "I wanted your attention," Hannah whispered.

  On my knees before her, I bit her sex through the fabric of a pale purple thong. I squeezed her ass. Hannah covered her mouth with both hands.

  "You got it," I said.

  I rose and brushed past her, glancing around her room. It looked much the same as it had during our video chat. Damn, the room was small, made smaller by Hannah's queen-size bed and piles of boxes. The only window was high and narrow.

  She'd hung a paper lantern from the ceiling. The sight of it tugged at my heart.

  Why wouldn't she let me buy her things? I could get her an apartment—a nest where I could visit and play with her. I could get her any clothes she wanted, any books, any furniture.

  I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. This would all be right if I were single. Instead, it was all wrong, and I was dragging Hannah into the wrongness of it, making her a party to my cruelty.

  "Matt?"

  I turned, and I was back in the dream. The risk and the wrongness were worth it. Hannah stood before me in nothing but her thong, her heavy tits peaked with hard nipples. I sat on the edge of her bed and smiled at her.

  "You wanted to dance for me? You wanted my attention? So dance. Let's see those moves again, Hannah."

  My cock was already semi-hard. Giving Hannah orders turned me on. Fuck, being around Hannah turned me on. She was a regular exercise in self-control (or my lack thereof).

  Hannah balked.

  "Now?" she said.

  "Mm, now." I stretched out on her bed, propping my head on her pillow. I undid my shorts and slid my hand into my boxers. "What you did outside. You wanted me to see. You wanted to make me stare. So make me stare, show me. All I could think about was this—us."

  I could practically see Hannah kicking herself for teasing me with the dance. I knew she was congratulating herself, too. The girl was one sexy heap of contradictions. She took pleasure in pain. She was exultant in debasement.

  Hannah moved to the center of the room and turned her back to me. She held her knees and stuck out her ass. My cock stirred under my hand. Nothing but her tiny thong concealed her sex from my view.

  "You're making me ready," I whispered, careful to keep my voice low.

  Hannah started dancing, making the cheeks of her ass pop and jiggle. She bent so low that I could see her breasts hanging down. I slid my cock out of my shorts.

  "Mm, Hannah..."

  She peeked back at me and her mouth fell open. I smirked. Damn, I loved when she had that reaction to my cock. I'd seen it first in the back of my Lexus—her eyes widening, her lips parted in shock. It would never get old.

  "You're blushing," I informed her. "Don't stop."

  Hannah bit her lip and looked away. She kept shaking her ass for me and I kept stroking my cock until I thought I would go mad with wanting to touch her.

  "Lose the thong."

  Obediently, Hannah wriggled out of her thong and went on dancing. Now I could see her plump pussy between her legs. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick video.

  The videos, the pictures, the sketch. Would they be all I had one day? Fuck, I needed to stop worrying about this shit—at least for now.

  Fuck now, worry later.

  I slid off the bed and went to Hannah. I pushed her smooth body into the wall.

  "You want it?" My cock touched her ass and she began to pant. The exertion of dancing heated her skin.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "I'm going to finger your ass first, Hannah. Where's your lube?"

  She gestured to a box. Near the top, I found a small black tube of water-based lubricant. I squirted it onto my hand and lubed up my pointer finger, which I slid along Hannah's crack and poised at her puckered entrance. I wasn't planning to try to get my dick in there. Hell, I hadn't been planning on putting my finger in there. Hannah made me crazy.

  She pressed her hands to the wall and stuck out her ass. I felt a tremor pass through her and I smiled.

  "Nervous?" I murmured. "This is your fault, Hannah. You just had to
dance out there and make me look at your ass. Now I have to play with it. Did your other boyfriends like to play with your ass?"

  "No," she whispered.

  "Good. It's mine. You've got a nice round ass. Can you feel your little anus twitching? Trying to squeeze my finger out, trying to deny me."

  I gazed down at my slick digit and the tight ring of muscle contracting against it. I hadn't even started to push. When I did, applying a slow pressure, Hannah jerked and tried to move away. I chuckled.

  "Uncomfortable, right?"

  "Nn... Matt."

  "You're a good girl," I whispered. "Relax your ass darling. Or don't. Stay nice and tight and nervous. Either way, I'm doing this."

  My finger popped in suddenly and Hannah yelped. I clamped a hand over her mouth. Through the door, I heard Jay yelling into his headset.

  Hannah's body clenched at my knuckle. Holy hell, she was tight.

  "You're alright baby." I spoke into her ear. Her nostrils flared and her dark eyes rolled toward me. "I know, I know, you want to see my finger in your ass, but you can't. It's only halfway in, Hannah. You like it? I know you want to moan and beg for my cock, but it seems like one of us has trouble being quiet." My soft laughter stirred her curls. "I'll have to keep your mouth covered. Do you feel your ass trying to get used to my finger?"

  I wiggled my finger in Hannah's bottom. The muscles fluttered and tightened. Hannah grunted against my palm.

  "That's nice baby, I like that noise. I like those embarrassing noises. You yowl like a cat when I fuck you hard, and you whine and beg like a dog. This might be my favorite, though. You're grunting like a pig. Does that mean you like this?"

  I shoved my finger in another centimeter. Hannah shuddered.

  "Where's my noise? Come on baby, start grunting. If you don't make this good for me I won't fuck you."

  As usual, I couldn't keep my mouth in check. At least I was still whispering.

  I pushed my finger in all the way and Hannah released another low, involuntary grunt against my palm. Fuck, I had her right where I wanted her. I started to finger her ass hard and fast, forcing my knuckles in against her body's resistance. Hannah jerked against the wall and the noises kept coming, snorts and grunts and snuffles that were driving me wild.