“Bitch!” the one behind her squealed, loosening his hold on her to grab at his nose.
Matt saw Ariel buck, her head smashing back into the one Matt thought of as Moe, standing behind her. He remembered her swinging the two-by-four. She was a fighter and she was still fighting. The one with his hands on her flinched, stepping back a moment. It was an opportunity Matt wouldn’t pass up. A high sweeping side-kick smashed solidly into Larry’s head. He staggered as Matt turned to Curly. Who swung at him.
It was clear Curly knew how to fight; he’d had some training somewhere. Ex-military, martial arts, something. Staggering, Larry shook off his kick but came at him, too. Matt’s time in the Rangers, his martial arts training even before that, paid off but it was quickly obvious he was going to need every bit of it.
Launching another kick, he caught Curly in the gut but Larry had recovered and was driving in, swinging. Matt blocked the punch, diverted it and then followed it up with a few of his own.
Astonished, Ariel watched. She’d never seen anyone move that fast or fight like that, not since her self-defense teachers.
Seeing the way the fight was going, the man holding her shoved her away to throw himself into the fray.
It was obvious Matthew knew what he was doing but with the two in front of him his hands were full. He didn’t need another and this one was coming at him from his blind side. She had to distract him, buy Matthew some time. She scrambled up, grabbing his arm before he could swing. Pivoting, he swung with the other hand, fast and aiming for her face. Ariel ducked, evading the punch but he got a handful of her dress before she could twist away. He threw her into the wall. She flung her hands up in front of her but not in time. Her head struck the bricks and lights exploded behind her eyes.
Dazed, she fell to her hands and knees. Something warm dripped down the side of her face.
Shaking her head, she tried to get her feet under her.
Matthew. What had happened to Matthew?
Matt had just taken Larry down and was pivoting to face Curly when he saw Ariel dart toward someone behind him. Moe. Blocking Curly, Matt’s heart went cold as he saw Moe throw a punch at her. She ducked and then he was too busy with Curly. It took two good hits before Curly went down.
Spinning, Matt turned just as Moe threw Ariel into the wall. She crumpled into a heap as Moe turned on Matt.
Moe had had training, too, but not Matt’s cold rage to fuel him. He kept seeing Ariel strike the wall.
Watching her struggle to her knees gave him another surge of strength. Moe went down, too.
Unfortunately, it was unlikely they were down for long.
Chapter Twelve
A hand reached for her. Startled, her head spinning, Ariel scrambled away as she tried to clear her head. She looked up into Matthew’s green eyes. He was safe, alive.
Matt saw her flinch away and his heart wrenched. Then she looked up. Those beautiful dark-fringed blue eyes were dazed, clouded, and then they cleared as they met his.
“Matthew!” she said.
She launched herself at him, locking her arms around his neck. Relief and terror gave her strength. She held him tightly. Matt closed his own arms around her, cradling her head, drawing her close against him. She was shaking, trembling violently. Tilting her head back to look at him, she reached out to touch his face with unsteady fingers. Her blue eyes were dark and wide with shock and fear.
Fear for him.
Blood trickled down the side of her face from the scrape on her forehead. His jaw tightened at the sight as he swung her up into his arms, holding her close. She was shaking so badly he wasn’t certain she could walk. He didn’t want her to anyway, he needed to hold her close, feel her safe in his arms.
It certainly wasn’t safe here, not for long. These boys were down. Down or out, they would come around quickly. Already Larry was dragging himself to his hands and knees. Matt had to get her out of there.
Thankfully, the door to the stairwell hadn’t latched. Matt wrenched it open and went straight through the inner door to the alcove where the elevators were. That had been one thing he had worried about in the layout to this hotel, that there was no clear view of the elevators from the lobby. Now that worked for them. No one had seen them come in. The elevator doors opened as soon as he touched the button.
He knew he couldn’t take her to her room, the stooges knew where it was. He punched the button for his own floor.
Ariel buried her face against his throat, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him. His arms felt warm, solid and safe, they held her firmly. She could feel the beat of his pulse against her lips. The fear and terror, for herself as well as him, threatened to overwhelm her. It was reaction and she knew it but it shook her. She fought it back, breathed in the scent of him to calm herself.
Raising her face, she looked at him. One trembling hand went to his face, again, her fingers lightly touching where a glancing blow had hit him.
“Are you all right?” Matt asked, looking at her.
There was blood on her face, a swelling under the cut where her head had struck the wall and another smear of blood at the corner of her mouth. On her cheek was a darkening bruise from the backhand. He was glad he couldn’t see those men, that they weren’t within reach, because a part of him now wished he’d done more damage.
Ariel nodded in answer to his question. “Yes. Matthew…?”
Her voice trembled.
The door to the elevator slid open and he strode down the hall, setting her down only briefly as he juggled her and his room key, carrying her into his room before she could finish.
He sat her carefully on the bed, brushed her ebony hair away from her face with gentle fingers. Remembering the night before he started to move away. He didn’t want to frighten her again. She’d had enough of that.
“No,” Ariel said, reaching for him. “Matthew. Don’t go.”
For the moment all she wanted to do was curl into him. She wanted, needed to be held, to take refuge in his presence. A bulwark against the fear that still had her nerves jangling. She also wanted to feel him, to know he was all right, that they were both all right. She turned her face into the curve of his neck and inhaled the spicy scent of him, the salty tang of his sweat.
Matt drew her back into his lap and enfolded her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Matt held her, rocked her until her breathing evened out and her arms loosened. He brushed his cheek against her hair, hating himself for what he was about to do, for what he had to ask her. He had to, though. For Bill. It had to be done, and now, before she had too much time to think.
“I need to ask you not to call the police,” he said. “After what happened down there you have every right and I won’t stop you if you do but I’m asking you not to.”
Her head tilted back so she could study him. The look in her eyes was solemn and still a little dazed, but they were surprisingly aware.
The police.
Just the thought made Ariel want to cringe. Questions. Men in uniforms like Scott. Telling what had happened to them over and over again. She shook her head. All she wanted to do at that moment was curl into Matt, feel his arms around her and take shelter within them. Pretend, if only for the moment, that nothing had happened. She pressed her face into the curve of his throat and inhaled the spicy scent of him.
Licking her lips, Ariel discovered she could taste him, the slightly salty taste of his sweat on her lips. She tilted her head back to look into his green eyes. Reaching up, she ran her fingers lightly over his mouth. Heat tugged low in her belly. She wanted to be touched and held, sheltered and comforted, and to forget, if only for a few moments, the fear of those moments in that alley. She desperately wanted clean hands on her.
Matthew’s hands.
As Ariel’s gaze lifted to meet his, Matt saw the look in her wide and liquid eyes and heat rushed through him. He was suddenly all too aware of the warm weight of her in his lap. Then her lips
parted.
He lowered his mouth to her even as she lifted her mouth to meet his, her hands clinging to him.
Sliding his fingers into the thick, rich mass of her hair, he curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, cradled her head protectively. His heart beat slow and hard. He would keep her safe. Somehow he would keep her safe.
There was no need to speak, all he had to hear was that sound in her throat, that longing. Tightening his arms around her, he pulled her close. His mouth closed over hers as her hand slid around the nape of his neck. The need to taste her, to feel her body tight against his was nearly overwhelming. He tried to keep a rein on it, tried to kiss her gently so he wouldn’t frighten her again but he craved the sweet taste of her. Her lips moved beneath his as delightfully as that first time. He wanted more, needed more, heat welled deep within him.
Her fear and her tears last night…
Remembering, he pulled back to look down at her.
Ariel saw the question in his eyes and touched his face again with unsteady fingers. She needed him, needed to feel his strong arms around her.
It was an urge as old as time, to be reminded of what it was to be alive.
“Matthew, please…” she whispered, desire tugging warm and low in her belly.
It was all the answer Matt needed.
He fisted his hand in her hair as his mouth took hers and tasted her deeply. His lips plundered, demanded.
She answered, her body straining against him as that sound in her throat swelled, that longing, that keening. Want. She wanted, needed him. He pulled her hips tightly against him to feel her against him. Against the growing hardness of him. Needed to feel her, for her to know he was there, to feel her and for her to feel him.
She seemed to melt against him as she curled her fingers around his head to draw his mouth harder against hers.
Matt devoured her mouth, sucking, nibbling on her lips, sliding his tongue between them. Her tongue danced slickly against and around his, savoring the taste and feel of him. She shifted, arched her back a little in anticipation as his hand slid from her bottom, to her hip, up the smooth curve of her waist to the vault of her ribs. He curled his fingers around the vault of her ribs, felt the warm weight of her breast just above his hand and heard her breath catch. He lightly brushed the underside of her breast with his thumb and she jolted with a gasp. Slowly, he curled his hand around her breast, cupped it, weighed it. It filled his palm, swelling against his hand as her muscles tightened to give him more and his fingers sought the hardness beneath the cloth. He caught her gasp in his mouth. Her tongue tangled with his as his fingers tightened.
Slowly, he slid his hand down over her hip to the satiny skin of her thigh, then just as slowly back up. Kneading, squeezing the firm muscles, his hand sliding higher and higher beneath her skirt until he could curl his fingers around the taut roundness of her bottom. His hand tightened, drawing her hips more closely against him as he did. Already he was hard, pressed against the zipper of his jeans.
Ariel wanted, desperately wanted, to feel his hands on her. It was like drowning, that kiss, as if she had fallen into warm, dark waters.
She ached, feeling his fingers close around her, so close to that ache within her and she wanted more.
Heat rushed through her, flowed under her skin until it felt as if she were on fire.
Stroking, kneading and massaging, Matt relished the feel of her full breast in his hand.
It wasn’t enough.
He needed to see her again, to see all of her.
One by one, he freed the buttons on her dress until he reached the bottom and the sides fell away so he could feast his eyes on her again.
White lace seemed almost to disappear against the pale ivory of her skin, the rosy darkness of her nipples a shadow beneath the lace. Reverently, he circled his palm over the hardening peaks. Another scrap of lace covered the curls at the juncture of her thighs. Stroking slowly, he ran his hand down over the smooth white skin of her belly and cupped her there as she gasped. He could feel heat and dampness beneath his fingers. He tightened them a little. Her breath caught and he watched her eyelids flutter as her eyes went smoky. Withdrawing his hand, he slid it over her hip, up along the curve of her waist before he reached behind her, looking into her brilliant blue eyes. She bowed her back to give him access.
With a quick flick of his fingers, the hooks gave way.
Matt drew the bra from her slowly and then tossed it away to look at her, all of her.
“Beautiful,” he breathed.
Her raven hair spilled across her shoulders while a single dark curl lay on the mound of one full white breast. Brilliantly blue, her eyes were hazed with passion as she looked up at him, her lips parted and a little swollen as she gasped. He took in the slightly stubborn curve of her chin and jaw, the long, graceful column of her throat and the slope of her shoulders. His gaze caught on her full white breasts, tipped with dark rose, the nipples ruched and taut. He curled his fingers around one breast, filled his hand with the warm full weight of it as he took in the fine arch of her ribs, her firm flat belly with the small dip of her navel, the shadow of ebony curls beneath lace. Her shapely, lovely legs.
Matt closed his eyes for a moment.
“I won’t ask if you want to stop this time,” he said, huskily. His hand was curled around her breast, massaging, kneading as he tried not to. “I can’t.”
“Matthew,” Ariel whispered, “love me.”
Softly, under his breath, he said, “God help me but I think I already do.”
At his words her heart almost seemed to shiver.
His hand tightened on her breast as his mouth descended on hers again, savoring it, feasting on it and she met it with the same passionate need. Her tongue darted between his lips. He groaned and battened on it, sucking on it, drawing it in as she locked her arms around him. Her hips drove against him and she moaned. Tearing his mouth away from hers he buried it in her throat, his mouth and tongue working on her as she gasped. He nipped and nibbled. Goosebumps raced over Ariel’s skin as she turned her head to give him more. He massaged her breast, stroked and kneaded, as she arched her back. He trapped her nipple between his finger and his thumb, feeling it harden even more as he rolled it, tugged at it, pinched it until it was hard and tight. He had to taste it, taste both of them.
Ariel moaned. Suckling hard on her breast, he tried to devour it all.
She cried out, one hand spearing through his hair to draw his head harder against her aching, tingling breast, while the other plucked impatiently at the hem of his t-shirt.
Rearing back, he ripped the t-shirt off and tossed it aside. With a sigh Ariel slid her hands over the tight muscles of his abdomen and up to the firm muscles of his chest.
She looked up at him in dazed wonder, running her trembling fingers lightly across his chest.
If a man could be called beautiful, Matthew was beautiful. His thick blond hair was tousled now and tumbled over his forehead. Her gaze traced his rugged face with the hollows beneath the cheekbones, his firm mouth and those brilliant green eyes. Those eyes were smoldering, seeming to glow as he looked down at her. Hard muscle spanned his broad shoulders and firm chest. Her hands traced the taut washboard ripples of his abdomen and slid up the long, strong muscles of his arms as he rose over her, propping himself up on them. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her breast again, closing on it, hot, incredibly hot, as he drew her nipple between his teeth.
Frantically, she worked at his belt, plucking with trembling fingers at the button on his jeans, at the zipper. She needed to touch him again, to feel the warmed silk of his skin over the rigid hardness of him. He spilled out into her hand, throbbing, so warm.
Matt groaned as she freed him and her fingers closed around him. He closed his eyes to soak up the pleasure of her touch.
He slid his hand down over her smooth belly to comb through the dark curls of that small mound between her thighs. She writhed beneath his touch as he slid his fingers down th
rough the damp folds of her. She quivered, raising her hips to meet his hand. Questing through those curls he found the little bud nestled there between her thighs and circled it. She trembled. Delicately, maddeningly, he touched and stroked from the delicate folds between her white thighs up to that small bud, wetting it, circling it, stroking until her back bowed, her blue eyes fluttering with the pleasure building within her. As her back arched her breasts rose until they were there, right there and he had to taste one again. He closed his mouth over it and suckled.
For a moment Matt sat back enough to admire his handiwork, the flush of rosy color in her cheeks, her swollen breasts, her nipples taut. Her dark lashes fluttered over her blue eyes and she gasped as he ran his fingers over those tender tissues.
Ariel thought she would lose her mind as he teased and played with her, as pleasure built almost unbearably. Heat flowed deep and low in her belly, flooding through her as the muscles in her thighs and stomach quivered. She ached with wanting him and that ache grew with each touch, each caress.
Gently, he probed at the entrance to her, circling his finger there, barely inside her. Her thighs spread almost involuntarily, her hips rising, opening for him. She was so hot, so wet and so tight. She moaned and his groin tightened at the sound. He slipped his finger into the depths of her and she cried out, coming as he stroked her.
Matt wanted to hear her sing, wanted to make her sing. He eased her gently down onto the bed, trailing kisses down her body until his mouth reached that little nub. Lightly, he flicked his tongue against it. Her muscles twitched in answer as he sucked and nibbled. Sliding an arm beneath her, he held her in place as she writhed. The sound gathered in her throat as he slid a finger slowly into the tight and wet depths of her again and she arched with a cry. Sliding another inside her, he stroked as he tasted and savored her. Her voice rose. Helpless, she begged him and then she sang. The sound burst out of her as he sent her over. She arched, crying out his name as she trembled. Her hands clenched in the bedclothes as she came once again, going rigid as it swept through her, rendering her speechless, quivering and shaking at the touch of his mouth and hands.
Lucky Charm Page 18
