Caveman: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Jo Raven

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Octavia

  Through the dark haze that’s pressed all around me, I hear sounds. Voices.

  Matt’s voice.

  I strain toward it but can’t move. I’ve been caught in this oppressing web since… I don’t know when.

  And I’m slipping back into the black pit before I find out if Matt is really here.

  I dream. I dream he’s here, I dream of Mom, and Gigi, and Merc, of sunlit afternoons in the garden.

  Of a kiss that never ends.

  It’s so cold in this dreamland. I don’t like it, and the sunlight turns to night, the stars fall out of the sky, and the garden withers.

  I’m so sad.

  When I open my eyes again, everything’s white, and there’s beeping and humming and weird puke-colored walls.

  A hospital. I’ve never been inside one, but I’ve watched my fair share of House and Grey’s Anatomy to recognize one.

  And Matt is here, asleep in a plastic chair, his hair falling in his eyes. I’m hit with a need so deep and urgent to hug him that I sit up and throw my legs off the bed, to get to him.

  The IV in my arm tugs, startling me, but I just can’t let it stop me. I stand up on shaky legs, take two steps and stop, staring at his face.

  Something’s different. It’s him, and not him.

  His beard is gone.

  He has shaved it off. His face is smooth, his jaw angular, his mouth soft. He looks so much younger than before, it’s disconcerting.

  Fascinating.

  God, he’s beautiful. So achingly handsome. There’s something boyish about him now, and it’s touching. It makes me want to kiss his eyelashes, his cheekbones, his chin.

  Makes me want to cry.

  I must have made a sound because he starts awake, eyes wide and unfocused. I’m still drinking him in. It’s as if he’s some enchanted prince, turned from a beast into a handsome young man, and I don’t even know what magic accomplished that.

  So I lean in and kiss him, to seal the spell.

  He shaved the beard off for me. He’s done hiding.

  I love him.

  “Tay.” He pulls me down to sit on his legs, pulls my arms around his neck. He’s staring at me as if memorizing my face, and his mouth trembles. “Jesus.”

  “Morning,” I whisper and kiss his mouth again, and his cheek and chin, because I can, dragging my lips over smooth skin and light stubble.

  He crushes me to his chest, burying his face in my neck, his whole body shaking. I don’t know what happened, can’t remember much of anything, but it looks like I scared him.

  I rub his back and kiss his neck, and his tears soak into my skin, hot and magical. Binding me to him. Freeing me from the last threads of the nightmare.

  “Please,” he says, a hitch in his deep voice, lifting his face to look at me, his dark eyes glittering. “Please, Tay, don’t ever leave me.”

  I kiss him again, unable to help myself. “I’m not planning to.”

  The circle of his arms is where I belong, and I never want to leave.

  Turns out I was in the hospital for hours before I woke up. Jeff Adams injected me with an anesthetic repeatedly after he kidnapped me, and the doctors were afraid of serious side effects like damage to my organs, or even respiratory failure.

  So they kept me for observation even after I woke up.

  Today, I am finally discharged. My mom, Gigi and Merc are there, and Matt is holding my hand, his mom and his brother holding the kids. I met them briefly, and they seem super nice.

  I also met Zane and Rafe who have already left. Nice guys, and I’ll never forget the role they played in finding me.

  The story Matt told me is crazy. How they looked for me. How they broke down the door and discovered me in the ice cream shop.

  Jeff Adams was captured trying to drive out of town. He’s now in jail, awaiting trial, and the truth has come out.

  This year was the tenth anniversary of his sister’s death.

  He lost his job and his fiancée left him.

  He kind of lost his mind.

  Turns out he’d been obsessed with his sister’s death all this time. The obsession turned worse, and he went to St. Louis to find Matt, only to find Matt was moving away. So he followed him here.

  To the police he said he only wanted Matt to feel the despair he felt when his sister lost her baby and committed suicide.

  But he refused to say what he’d planned to do with me.

  A shiver passes over me, and Matt tugs me to his side, rubbing his hand over my arm. “Okay?”

  I nod.

  But it will take me a while to sleep through the night, I think. Knowing how Jeff Adams disguised himself as a policeman and lured me out of the house, the same guy who took the kids, the guy I almost dated…

  I mean, the guy managed to walk around Matt’s neighborhood pretending to be a gardener, managed to disable the security cameras with a jammer, later opening them up and disabling them manually. That enabled him to walk into the house and write in Cole’s drawing book, then to take the kids.

  He wandered the house quite a few times, apparently. Listened in to conversations. To Matt and me having sex. Yeah, no wonder I don’t feel safe anymore.

  Not unless Matt holds me in his arms. And from the amount of time I’ve spent there, on his lap, by his side, since I woke up, I’d say he feels the same way.

  “Please, don’t ever leave me.”

  He may not have said he loves me, not in those exact words, but I know he does. He saved my life. And everything he does shows what his feelings to me are.

  If I had any doubt that he truly cares for me, that he has a beautiful soul, it’s long gone.

  After a whirlwind of a day with both our families sharing Matt’s house, cooking and laughing and playing with the kids, the house is again mostly quiet.

  My family has left, Gigi passing me another condom and giggling, her face red whenever she glanced at Matt.

  I pocketed it, because I have a feeling we’ll need it tonight. Matt’s gaze is on me, heated and soft, affectionate and full of arousal.

  It makes my body hot all over.

  Matt’s mom is sharing the kids’ room tonight, and they’re all already out, fast asleep. I know because I checked. Kaden, Matt’s brother, is downstairs, asleep on the sofa, the TV playing on mute.

  Matt pulls me into his bedroom and shuts the door, then puts his arms around me and backs me up against the wall.

  He likes doing that.

  I like him doing that.

  Smiling up at him, I wind me arms around his neck. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His dark eyes are serious. “How are you feeling? Not dizzy, no pain?”

  He’s been so worried about the possible side effects the doctors mentioned. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  His expression relaxes. “You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?”

  “I promise.” I rise on tiptoe to brush my mouth over his. “Just like you promised me a picnic, Mr. Hansen.”

  His gaze heats up again until it’s blazing. He pushes me into the wall, pressing his very hard, very swollen cock into my stomach. “I also promised to eat your pussy and to fuck you on my bed until you scream my name.”

  Oh God. I can only pant and tremble as his powerful body aligns with mine, all sharp edges, big bones and bulging muscles. “Yes,” I whisper.

  And he’s kissing me, not gently and tenderly like he has been doing since the hospital, but with a hunger that matches mine. I moan when his tongue thrusts inside my mouth, when his teeth scrape my lips.

  He lifts one hand to my face, holding me in place so he can devour me the way he wants, his tongue thrusting deeper, his stubble scratching my chin and cheeks, and God help me, I love it.

  I want more. I want him to overwhelm me, to put that big cock inside me and fuck the rest of the fear out of me.

  Make me his. It feels like years since the last time he touched me like this, even if it’s just days. Tr
uth is, these past two days felt like a lifetime.

  I’m out of air, and still I don’t want him to stop kissing me. But he draws back, letting go of me, putting one hand on the wall by my head, looking down at me with those fathomless, lust-filled eyes.

  “Take off your dress,” he says, that low growl in his throat that makes my nipples harden and ache, and sends bolts of heat shooting through my belly. “I wanna see you.”

  My mouth has gone dry. Swallowing, I unbuckle my thin belt and let it fall. Then I slowly pull down the zipper on the side of the dress.

  He’s watching me avidly, his throat working, as I pull down the sleeves, his gaze sliding to my breasts that are all but spilling out of my white lace bra.

  “Beautiful,” he says huskily. “You’re so damn beautiful. Mine.” He presses himself to me, his breath warm on my lips. “Mine,” he whispers again.

  “Yours,” I agree.

  He yanks down the cups of my bra, puts his hand on my breasts, making my breath catch. Then he bends over me, licking my nipples, making me moan at the shuddery pleasure coursing between my legs.

  Then he kneels and yanks down my panties, letting them drop around my ankles, lifting my feet one by one to take them off.

  And buries his face between my legs.

  I flatten my hands on the wall, my mouth falling open at the sensation of his tongue lapping at my exposed pussy, and then I grab at his hair as the pressure mounts. He has his hand there now, too, toying with me, then pushing his fingers into me while sucking and licking and…

  Oh God… I’m moaning and whimpering, embarrassingly needy sounds coming from my throat, and I can’t stop them. My head falls back, my legs tremble, and my hips rock. I’m rubbing myself on Matt’s mouth, his stubble scratching my inner thighs, and I’m going to…

  I’m going to come.

  I try to pull away, to say something, but his other hand clamps on my hip, keeping me in place as his lips and tongue press harder, eating me up, as his fingers stroke me deeper, faster until I’m wailing his name, coming so hard my vision goes black at the edges and my body arches against the wall.

  Holy crap, he’s broken me, shattered me. Crushed me with pleasure. My legs won’t hold me anymore, and I start to go down, sliding down the wall.

  With a soft curse, he stands up and scoops me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. I’m naked, he’s still fully dressed. I’m still shivering with pleasure, and he’s tense and aroused.

  But his gaze on me is soft like feathers.

  He carries me to his bed, lays me down.

  And starts to strip.

  Even wiped out as I am, I support myself on an elbow to better watch, not to miss anything, as he peels his T-shirt off his muscular chest, muscles rippling in mouthwatering ways, his ink revealed inch by inch, his six-pack clenching.

  Wow…

  T-shirt off, he pushes down his pants, toes off socks and boots, and he’s perfect.

  Frigging hot.

  Abs and pecs and biceps, and thick muscular thighs with a dusting of dark hair, and good God, what he’s packing down there always takes my breath away.

  His cock, so thick and long and imposing.

  My insides are still clenching from the release he gave me, but my belly tightens at the sight, and I press my legs together, needing something.

  Needing his cock inside me.

  He moves toward me like a predator, his gaze on me. He climbs on the bed, spreads my legs apart and presses himself between them.

  He kisses my mouth, using one hand to stroke my breasts, torture my nipples, and then fingers me until I’m panting and sobbing his name, pleading for him to fuck me.

  “Want me?” he whispers, his fingers stroking me, filling me up. “Want my cock inside you?”

  “Yes!” I whimper. “Please, Matt.”

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” he whispers, pulling his fingers out, and pushes his cock inside me.

  We both moan at the sensation. He grabs my leg, lifts it around his waist, pushing deeper, and I cry out, the pleasure bordering on pain, the fullness stopping my thoughts.

  His mouth descends on mine, silencing me, and he starts thrusting in earnest, pounding inside me, every stroke lighting up my body like a neon sign, making my mind flicker.

  And all the while he’s kissing me, eating up my mouth, my taste on his tongue, my body at his mercy, invaded and taken and it’s starting again, the clenching deep inside me.

  “Matt…” I breathe when he breaks the fusion of our mouths to draw breath. “I’m… I can’t…”

  My pussy clenches hard, and I bite my lower lip not to scream. A loud moan escapes me as I come again, tightening around his cock again, and again, my back lifting off the bed with the intensity of it.

  “Oh Christ.” His face contorts, and his body bows over me. “Fuck, Tay...” His eyes go wide, and his mouth goes slack as he thrusts erratically a few more times inside me, making me groan, and pulls out his cock in the last moment, spilling scorching heat all over my belly and breasts. “Damn.”

  He collapses beside me, an arm over my chest, breathing harshly in my ear. His cum is crisscrossing my body, like a net. Like he captured me.

  I like it.

  I grin up at him, and he lifts a shaky hand to stroke my mouth. “You know…” he murmurs sleepily. “You’re the light of my life.”

  “And you’re mine,” I whisper, staring at his handsome face, the pretty long-lashed eyes, his square jaw, the fall of dark hair over his forehead.

  He smiles.

  God, that smile. A hell of a smile. It makes his eyes brighten and dimples appear in his cheeks and… it turns my heart over.

  And then he says, “I love you.”

  Epilogue: Golden Promises

  Octavia

  “Come on, Tati,” Cole says, tugging on my hand.

  I take another step, stumbling on a fold in the carpet. “Where are we going?”

  “You will see,” Mary says from my other side.

  “Eventually. Because right now I don’t see a thing.”

  The blindfold is scratchy, tickling my cheekbones. There’s an itch on the bridge of my nose, but two very determined kids are holding tightly on my hands, leading me across the living room.

  As we approach the door, the fresh morning breeze sends strands of hair over my face, and the scent of flowers and mown grass.

  “Am I not allowed a peek? Just a peek?”

  “No, Tati,” Cole says patiently, and I supress the urge to giggle at his serious baby voice. “No peek.”

  “But how will I go down the steps without seeing?” The three porch steps are pretty steep and breaking my leg would spoil the day.

  “Daddy is waiting,” Mary says.

  Oh good. No broken legs in today’s plan.

  Relieved, I let them tow me outside, onto the porch, feel the sun warm on my skin – on my cheeks, my mouth, my neck, my arms.

  I’m a bit shaky, and I hope nobody has noticed. Since my kidnapping by Jeff Adams and the night I spent in the storeroom in the back of the ice cream shop, I have developed a small fear of the dark.

  Yeah, I was sedated most of the time I’d been there. But not all the time. And anyway, no idea how brains work. I just know that mine shies away from the darkness these days.

  It’s been two weeks since that night, but the fear that I’d die alone without seeing my family or Matt and the kids again keeps resurfacing in my dreams, turning them into nightmares.

  Despite the warmth of the sun, the urge to yank off the blindfold is too strong, pressing on my chest. I’m already digging in my heels and tugging myself free of the kids’ hold, when strong hands land on my waist.

  “I’ve got you, Tay,” Matt’s deep, growly voice says, instantly calming me, and he lifts me up into his arms. I yelp and throw my arms around him, miraculously managing to snag them around his neck and not punch him in the face by mistake. He swings me off the porch. “Easy now.”

  “Matt…”

>   “Yeah, baby. Right here.”

  “The kids? Those steps are steep.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice warm. “Are you ready?”

  “For what? What’s going on?”

  “You forgot already what I promised you.”

  I snuggle into him, inhaling his masculine scent of musk and spice. “You promised me many things.”

  “And I always deliver.”

  This makes me laugh. So cocky, so relaxed and playful.

  So different from the man-beast I first encountered at this very spot. I unwind one hand from his neck to touch his face.

  Without seeing, the sensation of his beardless face is even more intense. Powerful. I trace the line of his jaw, the dimple in his cheek that means he’s smiling. I touch his mouth and he kisses my fingertips.

  His lips on my fingers send electric shivers down my spine and heat pools in my belly, starting a throb between my legs.

  This man is big, big trouble…

  The kids giggle and run about us, and Matt’s steady heartbeat slows my fluttery pulse down until I’m limp in his arms, my head resting on his muscular shoulder.

  “So where are you taking me?” I whisper, lulled by the rhythm of his steps over the low-cut grass.

  “I promised you a picnic. But our plans were interrupted.” His smile slips. I feel it under my fingertips, hear it in his voice.

  “Only put off,” I say. “We’re here now.” I huff. “Why am I blindfolded for a picnic?”

  “You’ll see,” he says, just like his daughter earlier, and his smile returns, sharp and wicked. I trace it lightly, smiling, too. “Know what? I like this blindfold on you. It’s giving me ideas for later.”

  I tense up a little. “I don’t like it.”

  “That’s because you haven’t tried it.” He stops moving. “Or is it something else?” He slowly kneels and pulls me on his lap. “The nightmares. Shit. I’m sorry.”

  He pulls the blindfold off me, and I blink, unseeing, in the bright light.

  “Don’t be.” The world comes back into focus, the garden, the tree, the red blanket on the grass, the kids spreading dishes and packages. “Not your fault.”