by Lily Rede
“I don’t see why you have to borrow something. I thought you owned every outfit under the sun.”
“For a night out at a club or for work. I don’t own anything that’s appropriate for a date with Matt Harris.”
Fiona rolled her eyes and followed her up to her bedroom, peeking in the guest room with curious eyes.
“Where’s your hottie brother?”
“Hands off. I lent him my car to go across the bay and get a cell phone.”
Grace glared at Fiona, who just grinned.
“Probably a good idea to get him out of town for a day or so. People just can’t shut up about the fires. You’d think there was a maniac on the loose,” she said, shrugging dismissively.
“Anything I need to know about?” asked Grace, sorting through the dresses Fiona had brought, holding one or two up for closer inspection.
“Nope. I closed early and told everyone that we were a library, not gossip central, and they could go to Mary’s if they wanted to chatter on and on. Adam’s name may have come up a time or two, but you know how it is.”
“They’re all so fucking judgmental,” fumed Grace.
Fiona pawed through Grace’s closet, pulling out a black lace shift dress in a cobweb pattern that she held up to her body.
“What happened to, ‘Fuck ‘em all, I don’t care and I’m going to dress how I want to dress’ Grace?” she asked, re-hanging the dress and continuing her rummage.
Grace smoothed the folds of a simple gray dress.
“I don’t care. Matt does. He’s going to realize pretty quickly that this was a bad idea, but that doesn’t mean that I want him embarrassed in front of his friends. The least I can do is look relatively normal.”
“Do you really think he would have asked you out if he had a problem with how you look?” asked Fiona, but Grace ignored her and held up a demure cocktail dress in green.
“How about this one? Not too crazy, right?”
Fiona’s eyes twinkled.
“Go for it. I was planning to get rid of all of these, so no worries if he wants to rip it off you with his teeth.”
“Not helping,” Grace muttered as Fiona giggled.
MATT STEPPED UP TO Grace’s house, nerves playing ping pong in his stomach. Now that the evening was here, he wasn’t sure he was ready. He wanted to be careful, not scare her away, so he rejected a formal suit and pricey dinner at La Sirena across the bay and instead showed up at her door in clean jeans, a pressed white shirt, and a simple gray blazer. He’d take her someplace nice, but close, and then maybe a drive.
Then maybe more…
Matt shut down that line of thought with a decisive mental shove. This evening was about one thing – convincing Grace to give him a second date. And a third. And a fourth.
Behave. Be gentle. Don’t talk about fires. Don’t talk about Adam. Don’t fall on her like a ravening beast.
He rang the bell, awkwardly clutching the purple flowers. For an anxious moment this felt like a huge mistake. Matt knew he’d never feel good enough for her, but he couldn’t resist.
Suck it up, man. Give yourself a chance.
The door opened and there she was. Grace smiled at him, a hint of nerves on her face.
“Hi,” she managed.
“Hi.”
She looked…nice. The simple green dress was nothing special, though it ended a couple of inches above her her knee, the flirty skirt showing off her fabulous legs. She’d exchanged her glasses for contacts, and her hair had been tamed into a tight coil pinned to the back of her head. Matt was a little disappointed. He’d been looking forward to “accidentally” brushing his fingers against it over the course of the evening. The woman in front of him was a stranger – not the exotic, rock goddess purple librarian fairy he’d been obsessing over.
Maybe this was a mistake after all.
Matt didn’t understand the change in her, and that put him on guard. Dumbly, he thrust the flowers forward.
“You didn’t have to – how sweet, thank you.”
Flustered, Grace’s face lit up and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek before burying her nose in the blooms. All thoughts of calling it off melted away as her wildflower perfume slid past his defenses and her warm, pouty lips brushed his skin. She was still Grace, no matter what she was wearing, and he still wanted her more than breath. He’d have the whole evening to figure out what was going on with her.
“Let me get my coat,” she said.
THE FIREFIGHTER AND THE firebug’s sister left together, clearly on a date. Harris, ever the gentleman, opened the door for her and gave her a hand into his SUV. She looked almost normal for once. It was odd, seeing them together, but it worked in his favor, so he dismissed his sense of unease, discreetly following them until he could see that he was taking her to the seafood place near the wharf.
Clear across town.
Perfect. He had things to do, and the last thing he needed was Matt Harris getting in the way. By the end of the night, everyone in town would be certain that Adam Mallow was up to his old tricks, and that distraction would be enough for him to complete his work, to fix his mistake, and to make things right again.
Then it would be over.
THIS IS TORTURE, GRACE thought to herself, sipping a glass of wine. From the moment they’d walked into the little restaurant overlooking the water, they’d been on display, like the feature attraction at a circus freak show – a two-headed elephant, perhaps, or the unfortunate Snake Man. To his credit, Matt tried to deal with it graciously, asking waitress Millie Grayson to seat them in a far corner. Grace knew without asking that Matt would leave a generous tip – Millie was a recent widow with a young son, and it hadn’t been easy.
Grace had no problem ignoring the stares and whispers. She’d been doing it for years, but for Matt, it was clearly a new experience, and he was tense and awkward as they ordered.
“How’s the house coming?” Grace asked brightly, trying to put him at ease.
Matt had been building a house in his spare time for the better part of a year now, doing as much of it as possible with his own two hands.
“It’s getting there. I need to finish up a few things before it really gets cold, and then the rest can wait until the thaw. Maybe next summer I’ll build a deck.”
He smiled, and Grace was momentarily blindsided by the image of Matt in nothing but low-slung jeans, working on his deck under the hot sun. She took a long swallow of wine.
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Come on over sometime, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He said the words lightly, but she caught a glimpse of hot blue flame before he lowered his eyes to draw a pattern on the tablecloth with his fork.
Grace cleared her throat.
“Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow a toolkit? Adam wanted to fix a few things and was horrified by my lack of proper tool thingies. I figure it’s good for him to have something to do.”
Matt considered her carefully, but said only, “Sure, we can stop by my place on the way home and I’ll get you set up.”
Millie arrived with their meals and Grace was grateful. Matt took a look around, frowning at all the curious eyes.
“This is crazy,” Matt muttered, “By tomorrow morning they’re going to be arguing over what we had for dinner. Doesn’t this bother you?”
“I’ve gotten used to it,” Grace replied.
The rest of the meal passed easily enough, and though Matt did his best to engage her in conversation, asking her about music and the library, and sharing stories about some of the Fire Department’s more bizarre calls, he seemed acutely aware of all the eyes on their table. Grace could sense his unease, but she could also feel the spark between them whenever his knee brushed hers under the table.
Can’t have one without the other, she thought.
How depressing.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE DRIVE TO MATT’S house was quiet, and Grace sat in the SUV wondering what he was thinking,
but too chicken to ask. She was kicking herself for having agreed to this whole night in the first place, and if Matt found out the real reason they were incompatible, well, that was it. He seemed stubbornly determined to make things work out between them, and she had a terrible feeling she was going to have to tell him the truth, and probably humiliate them both in the process.
It would help if his scent wasn’t filling the car, his strength and heat just a foot away, teasing her and filling her with the desire to yank him across the console and have her way with him on the side of the road.
Dammit.
“Let’s get that toolkit for Adam and then how about we get some ice cream and head up to the bluff? No audience this time, I promise.”
Grace squirmed in her seat.
“Maybe we should just…call it a night, Matt,” she said, feeling like a heel.
He was silent for a long moment, and then, “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
Matt pulled up to the house and Grace didn’t wait for him to open her door. Her eyes widened as she took in the progress on the structure – a beautiful three stories with a wraparound porch. It was a house designed for a family, for children and grandchildren and extended family to fill to the rafters. She felt emotion clogging her throat and wondered what, exactly, he saw in her – she might occasionally wonder about a husband and children, but she wasn’t cut out for something like this.
“Like it?” he asked, and she was surprised to find him watching her carefully, as though waiting for her approval.
“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly.
He smiled, and she felt the warmth clear to her toes, even letting him take her hand to lead her up to the front door. The interior was clearly a work in progress, but Grace had no trouble picturing what the place would look like when completed. Maybe lavender in the main hallway. She wondered if Matt liked purple, absently stepping up on the main staircase, admiring the hand-carved newel post.
Matt was still watching her, and came up to lean on the bannister. The stair gave Grace extra height, putting them at eye level for once, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, see the desire in his face.
Uh-oh.
“I can’t, Matt,” she whispered.
He didn’t touch her.
“I won’t ask for more than you can give, Grace.”
God, she didn’t deserve him.
“You saw them tonight. It’s always going to be like that. They’re never going to accept me the way I am.”
“Fuck them.” The harsh words were delivered in a voice so seductively gentle, Grace felt her knees go weak, “They don’t know you.”
“Neither to do you, Matt. Not really.”
“But I want to know you, Grace.”
She shook her head.
“You wouldn’t be happy with me. The things I want, they’re not…normal. And I don’t want you to ever look at me like I’m some sort of freak.”
“I’d never do that.” His fingers came up to touch her cheek.
“Can’t you just find some nice girl who likes pastels and reality TV and doesn’t come branded with the label, ‘inappropriate?’ That’s what you need. Not me.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself? If you really don’t want me, Grace, that’s one thing, but if you’re just trying to scare me away for my own good,” He shook his head, “I don’t scare easily.”
Grace was moving before she even knew what she wanted to do, grabbing a handful of his shirt and yanking him forward.
You asked for it, she thought, determined to teach him a lesson.
Then her mouth found his and the truth exploded in her brain. Kissing him had absolutely nothing to do with teaching him a lesson and everything to do with the fact that she couldn’t help herself any longer. He was hot and wet and delicious, and the hint of stubble that rasped her lips as she changed the angle sent a tingle of pleasure down to her clit.
Matt groaned into her mouth, his hands coming up to gently tuck her against his incredible chest as her lips explored his, pleasure reeling through her as she hungrily took everything she’d been fantasizing about since the first time their eyes had met.
Grace liked taking a submissive role in the bedroom, but she was so starved for him that her only thought was grabbing what she could get in this incredible, insane moment in time, of getting her fill before he came to his senses. She found her hands swiftly unbuttoning his shirt to greedily explore the hot golden skin poured over slabs of muscle beneath. Never letting their lips part, she propelled Matt off the step and back toward the living room couch until the world tilted and they sprawled together on the soft cushions, her legs straddling his hips as he lifted a hand to caress her jaw and then swiftly started pulling the pins from her hair.
“Hold still,” he murmured against her mouth.
The command sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine and Grace whimpered as her hair tumbled around them. A thrill went through her as Matt took control of the kiss, his hands moving to her waist, easing her down until her throbbing core was pressed against a rock hard bulge that was startling in size, promising endless pleasure for the taking.
She was supposed to be teaching him a lesson, but maybe she’d been wrong.
Maybe he wants what I want?
Hope made her heart beat faster as she started moving against him, determined to find out.
MATT WAS GOING TO be gentle with her if it killed him, but the way Grace was rocking against him made his eyes cross with the need to grip her hips and drive deeply inside her welcoming heat, thrusting until he’d claimed her with every inch of his body, until she surrendered to his superior physical strength and unrelenting lust.
Madness.
Whatever nonsense she had in her head about not being good enough for him was something they’d have to deal with, but later. Right now, Matt would have been hard pressed to string a complete sentence together, with her hot little hands on his body, her breasts cuddled against his chest, and her tongue in his mouth. This was his chance to prove himself to her, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up.
He carefully placed his hands on her thighs, lightly stroking her satin skin and sliding up under her skirt to explore the lace-covered curves of Grace’s ass instead of holding her captive to move her the way he wanted to against his throbbing dick. With monumental self-control, he kept his mouth gentle against hers, tasting and savoring with slow, hot licks, though every muscle in his body strained with the effort to hold back and not crush her to him, demanding everything she had to give. Grace tasted incredible, as he’d always known she would.
She was rocking harder against him now, widening her thighs to press her sweet pussy more firmly against the heavy bulge in the denim, burning him alive through the layers of cloth. The little sound she made in the back of her throat was nearly his undoing, a hot little moan of disapproval at his light touch, an insistent plea for more.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Matt tried not to beg.
Grace traced a pattern across his chest with sharp little fingernails and a shudder rippled through him, which she seemed to enjoy. He cringed at the sound of ripping lace, and as she gasped, Matt pulled his mouth away from hers to stare at the frilly black scrap tangled around his fingers, erotic evidence that some of his control had slipped and Grace’s soft flesh was now naked against him. As if he needed the reminder.
Rather than voicing outrage, Grace cooed softly and wriggled until he had no choice but to cup the glorious bare cheeks in his big hands, stroking and kneading, rougher than he intended to be. Matt caught a flash of her grin as her lips lowered to taste his throat, and the sensation had his eyes rolling back.
“We have to stop,” he managed, shaky.
Matt was fast losing control of the situation – that much was clear, because he knew that if he slid his fingers down that enticing crevice to dip into the hot, wet folds beneath, he was going to forget all of his good intentions and fuck her like a beast.
“Grac
e – ”
“Mmm-hmmm…”
Her intentions were clear as well, her fingers learning the ridges of muscle, tracing his waistband with curious fingers, her touch a blessing and a curse. Grace’s movements were jerkier, her breath coming faster, and her eyes gleamed as she lowered her head. Matt’s mind went blank at the feeling of her lips, her tongue, and those sharp little teeth scraping his nipple. The shard of pleasure/pain that ripped through him as Grace bit delicately into his flesh pulled a rough groan from deep inside, and for one insane moment he tunneled the fingers of one hand through her incredible hair to hold her mouth to him, his cock cradled between her thighs, millimeters from Paradise.
Perfect.
A whisper of leather and the feel of his belt loosening broke the spell, setting off alarm bells. Too much, too fast. He’d never hang onto his control if she kept up this pace. Grace was like flame in his arms, and Matt needed time to mentally prepare, so that he didn’t just pin her to the nearest available surface and pound into her until he passed out, with no finesse or care whatsoever. So that he didn’t hurt her.
What was she worried about? That they weren’t compatible?
Fuck that.
Matt’s mind went blank as Grace slid her hand past his zipper and into his boxers, wrapping warm fingers around his cock, the pressure sublime as she squeezed.
“You’re so big,” she murmured, nibbling his abs, “Everywhere.”
With monumental force of will, Matt wrenched himself away, dislodging Grace so quickly that she tumbled off the couch and to the ground in an undignified heap, her flirty little skirt hiked high up her thighs. Matt had to close his eyes to block out the sight while he got his body back under control.
“What the hell was that for?” She was pissed.
“I can’t. Not like this.”
Grace pulled herself to her feet, smoothing her skirt down with shaky hands.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” she said, “Would you mind taking me home?”
And she turned around and walked out.
GRACE FOUGHT TEARS AS she headed out the door, kicking herself for being so monumentally stupid, her body still singing from his touch. The sight of Matt sprawled on the couch, all bare skin and hard muscle, his thick cock rigid and huge as it rose from the opening of his jeans, and his eyes blue fire, was going to stick with her for a while.
