Hyde edged closer, crowding her into the corner of her stall. She’d draped a sunny length of yellow linen across the rear wall. It tickled her ear as she tried to back away.
His lips curved into the vestige of a cruel smile. “Perhaps it was too much to expect a woman from a long line of cowards to believe the truth.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Mattie gazed wildly around, searching for someone to help. Lydia and her friends had wandered off, probably down to the Shanty to grab a snack. She could scream, but there was no guarantee anyone would hear or even care. What the hell had she been thinking meeting a weirdo like this?
OWEN HAD NEVER felt such an all-consuming urge to rip someone’s spine out. He’d turned away for less than five minutes, just long enough to get himself together after Mattie’s probing gaze had sliced right through all his carefully erected barriers. Next thing he knew, Daniel “Goatkiller” Hyde had pinned Mattie in the back of her stall for who knew what purpose.
Owen thought fast. He pulled out Selena’s keys and let the sparkly pink crown dangle from his fingers. Striding toward the back of the stall, he let them jingle. “Hey, baby, are you almost done here? I’ve got your keys.”
Hyde whipped around, his lip curled into a silent snarl. Owen lifted his chin and let the menace roll off his body in waves. Working as a bouncer at Triptych had taught him all kinds of things about silent presence. If he had to use every ounce of it to get Mattie away from this guy, he would.
Mattie peered at him as if he were offering a life raft in a storm. Her already fair skin was pale as milk, intensifying her dark hair and blue-gray eyes. Owen tried to exude as much goodwill toward her as he could. When her gaze flickered over the keys in his hand, he saw quiet relief enter her expression.
“My name is Owen.” Owen didn’t offer his hand to Hyde. He had no desire to touch a man who could give off the kind of evil this one was. “And you are?”
“Leaving, if you’ll excuse me.” Hyde turned on his heel and exited the booth without another word.
Owen turned, placing himself between Mattie and Hyde until the man was out of sight. He could sense her trying to gather what was left of her composure. When he turned around, she was trembling, one hand gripping a support pole.
“Selena sent me,” Owen said softly. “You’re safe.”
She seemed to waver. A tear streaked down the sleek contour of her elegant cheekbone. Her wobbly legs suggested she might collapse. Before he could think better of it, Owen reached out and drew her into his arms. She nestled there as if nature had made her to fit him perfectly.
I absolutely understand why Lars loves this woman, whether he’ll admit it or not.
“It was you,” she whispered. “Outside, staring at me.”
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
There was nothing but simple curiosity in her tone. He’d expected leftover hostility or fear from Hyde’s near attack, but there was none of that. She rested in his arms in a posture of utter trust. “I work at Triptych.”
“Yes, but who are you?” Her gaze made his cock quiver with awareness. “Why do I feel like I already know you?”
He wished he knew. It might make her less tempting. Or not. Owen couldn’t even decide if part of her allure was because she’d managed to snag Lars so thoroughly. Did she even know that? What if she was clueless, or worse, what if Owen was completely wrong, and there was something else instigating Lars’s self-castigation?
And why the hell do I care? I shouldn’t care. I can’t care.
“Will you take me home?” she asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Her instant faith in his good intentions humbled him in a way nothing else in his life ever had. “Anything you want.”
Chapter Three
Mattie was out of her mind. There was no other possible explanation for the recent string of bad decisions she was making. Opting to meet Daniel Hyde even after discovering he was some kind of power-hungry goat-killing lunatic had been idiotic. Now she was making coffee for the stranger who’d come to her rescue.
She reached up and pulled two mugs off the shelf, trying not to drop them while watching Owen. He was giving her Cape Cod-style home a very thorough once-over.
She wondered what he’d see. Her aunt had left her the old house on a five-acre plot of tangled forest near Danvers. Her front room was filled with a secondhand loveseat and overstuffed chair, and the tiny kitchen had a breakfast nook tucked into the bay window. Windows stretched across the back of the house, and the second story was accessible only by the narrow staircase in the center of the structure. There were only three rooms upstairs—a bedroom on the right and her studio on the left with a bathroom sandwiched in between. It wasn’t much, but it had been home to the women in her family for six generations.
Owen’s broad-shouldered frame dwarfed the front room as he paused to peer at the canvases she’d hung on the walls.
“This one reminds me of a place not far from my grandmother’s.” The timbre of his voice was oddly comforting.
“Where does she live?”
He straightened and half turned to face her. She had to swallow back a gasp. Light from the wide windows painted him in a brilliant wash of color. It caressed the lean muscles of his body. Shadows danced across his chest and belly. His black cotton T-shirt was snug enough to give her a glimpse of the ripped torso beneath, yet it was nowhere near enough to satisfy her curiosity.
His recent heroic behavior aside, she was unbelievably attracted to his exotic good looks. The burnished copper skin made his smile more intense. She wondered what it would feel like to touch his hair. The thick black mass hung past his shoulders, the front pulled away from his face and held back with a hair tie. It was the kind of hair she wanted to brush and then braid just so she could let it sift like silk through her fingers.
To give her hands something to do, Mattie picked up the fresh coffeepot. She filled each mug with steaming liquid as he watched in silence. She instinctively knew he’d respond to her question in his own time.
“I grew up in Rhode Island, near Charlestown.” He took the mug she offered and cupped it. “My grandmother still lives there.”
“Are you Narragansett, then?” Mattie hoped she didn’t sound as eager as she felt.
“Mostly.”
It was a cryptic answer that made her burn with a hundred more questions, but she sensed he wasn’t going to give her any more than that until he was good and ready. It was strange. She’d sent Selena a text before she’d driven to her house to confirm Owen’s identity, so she knew he hadn’t simply stolen her friend’s keys. Still, she knew nothing about the guy. Not really. Yet her instincts told her without a doubt she could trust him. Mattie trusted her instincts. They’d even told her that she and Lars had opposite goals in life. Not that she’d listened.
Owen took a deep gulp of coffee. “How long did Selena say it would be until she gets here?”
Mattie liked the fact he hadn’t tried to fish for information about a possible boyfriend or husband. Although knowing Selena’s tendency to talk it was possible she had mentioned Mattie’s brief connection to Lars where Owen could’ve overheard it. How awkward. Now she was left wondering exactly what Owen knew about her.
Hmm. What if he knows Lars? What if Lars has talked about me in front of this guy?
Owen was waiting for her to respond with an expression of polite expectation on his face. He took another sip of coffee and seemed to savor the bitter bite on his tongue. For some weird reason that made her like him even more. She was a coffeeaholic. On nights when she went on a painting binge, she consumed a continuous supply. The sudden image of Owen sleep-tousled and wearing flannel pajama pants while they shared a cup of java made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She longed to indulge her domestic bug with the comforts of home and a family.
“Selena isn’t coming.” Mattie inhaled deeply of the fragrant liquid caffeine in her mug. The familiar scent was soothing. “She wou
ld have, but I didn’t want her to come all the way out here for nothing. I’m fine.”
He set his mug aside and leaned back against her kitchen counter. For whatever reason, the posture drew her gaze straight to the bulge in his groin. Even in loose-fitting jeans it looked impressive. She lifted her mug to cover the wanton way she was licking her lips. It had been too long. So effing long! Why hadn’t she taken another lover anyway? With Owen in her kitchen, Mattie was having trouble remembering why she’d been celibate for months. Abstaining only made her crabby.
Owen cleared his throat. “I was going to get a lift back with Selena since I rode out here with you.”
Mattie felt like someone had doused her in ice-cold water. Here she’d been imagining what it would be like to screw Owen until they were both too sated to move. Hell, she’d been playing house with him in her head, and the guy wasn’t even interested. Embarrassed, she fumbled with her mug and managed to set it in the sink without dropping it. “I don’t mind driving you back. We can leave now if you want.”
OWEN COULDN’T REMEMBER wanting another woman this much. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, though it was obvious he had. Her elegant cheekbones were tinged with pink, and she refused to meet his gaze. It was pretty damned attractive, although she could’ve given him the finger and his body would’ve considered it a turn-on.
Feeling strangely off-kilter, he reached over and put his mug next to hers in the sink. Their arms brushed, and Owen felt as though he’d been seared by raw electricity. He choked on a groan as his jeans began to strangle his swollen cock. This unfettered need was crazy. He met plenty of attractive women in his line of work, but he’d never reacted like this.
“I’m sorry. Are you… Are you okay?” She gnawed on her full, kissable lower lip.
What was he supposed to say? Hell, she might’ve taken up with someone else since Lars.
Like hell. I’ll kill any other man that touches her.
The thought came out of nowhere. Owen wasn’t usually possessive. Not about Lars, and certainly not about some random chick he’d just met. Still, this irresistible attraction seemed to exist outside the parameters of normal. It simply was.
“Are you in a relationship?” he asked abruptly. Nice going, asshole, real smooth.
Two tiny lines appeared between her sweeping dark eyebrows. “Not really, no.”
He cocked his head, fighting the urge to demand an explanation.
“What I meant to say is that I was seeing someone months ago. Then he just stopped calling, you know?” She pressed both palms to her cheeks. “I’m babbling. Sorry! You’re just… This is so…”
He wanted her to finish her sentence. Mostly because he wanted to know what the hell she thought this was. Owen shut his eyes to tap into the energy coursing wildly through his veins. He slowed his rapid breathing and listened for his inner voice, the guide that had been with him all his life.
“Owen?”
She moved closer. He could smell her. Something powerful unfurled in his belly. It burgeoned into a stronger intuition and embedded itself into his soul. It swept away all of his constraints and the carefully constructed cage where he locked up his emotions. He didn’t understand what had happened, but he knew what he wanted.
Her warm palm settled hesitantly against his cheek. “I feel it too, Owen.”
He took her hand before she could move away and break the spell. Drawing her close, he opened his eyes and gazed at the woman in his arms. “I want you, Mattie.”
Her pupils dilated until there was only a thin ring of blue gray around the iris. She didn’t answer, but she flung both arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth.
The taste of her nearly blew him away. She was sweet and wild like a summer storm on the bay. He drank her in, moving his lips against hers until she parted to welcome him in.
She was hesitant at first, rubbing her tongue along his. That didn’t last long. With a soft feminine growl, she became the aggressor, and Owen was swept away.
Her nails scored his scalp as she hungrily devoured his mouth. His body responded in kind, and Owen felt his desire spinning out of control. He tried to back off, to slow down, but she wasn’t having it. She nipped his tongue before biting his lower lip.
Frenzied lust unleashed something rough and untamed in Owen. He seized control and pushed her back against her kitchen cabinets. China rattled as he plundered her mouth. His lips left hers, and he tilted her head to gain access to her neck.
He shoved her blouse up to bare her torso. His hands memorized the svelte curves of her lower back before skimming up her ribs and pulling her top off. Her breasts fit his hands perfectly. The firm mounds were warm beneath his lips as he kissed each one.
She grabbed his head and writhed against his mouth. The pain of her nails scoring his scalp drove him on. He licked one pink nipple, and then set his teeth to the taut bud. She arched her back and cried out. He sucked hard on the pebbled flesh, rolling its twin between the fingers.
“Owen, please…” She was panting and yanking fistfuls of his hair as though she’d rip it out.
He focused on her other breast, licking until she was moaning incoherently. Her hips stirred restlessly, and he wedged his right knee between her legs to hold her still. When she began rubbing her crotch against his thigh, Owen nearly lost control.
She bit his earlobe. “Stop teasing and fuck me, Owen. I need it.”
Her hands fumbled at his waistband. He hissed when she made contact with his erect cock. Focusing on Mattie had pushed the throbbing in his groin to the background. Now it reemerged full force.
It took her only a second to unfasten his jeans and shove them down enough to gain access. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He never did. Her hot little hands closed around his shaft, and Owen thrust reflexively into her grasp. It was heaven.
He gripped her countertop to stop from collapsing against her. She worked his dick as if she’d been born knowing how he liked it. Long hard strokes from base to tip until precum spilled from the end. Her fingers swirled the silky fluid around the sensitive crest, and he ground his teeth to keep still.
“You’re perfect. Just perfect,” she whispered.
He couldn’t speak. His mouth was glued shut while he tried to rein in the desire to come. His balls were on fire, contracting as though they were ready to explode. She cupped them in one hand and kneaded the taut spheres. He exhaled a broken expletive and almost lost the battle to stave off his orgasm.
“I have condoms upstairs,” she said.
He forced his lips to move. “There’s one in my wallet.” He felt her hand delving into his back pockets, and he ground out a chuckle. “Front one on the left.”
“It’s like a sadistic scavenger hunt,” she muttered as she found the prize.
He gazed down at her while she extracted the foil package and shoved his wallet back in his pocket. How the hell had they gotten this far this fast? He had on a shirt, and she was still wearing pants, for fuck’s sake. He wanted to spread her legs and discover the softness of her pussy. What if he never had another chance to learn her scent and her taste? Wouldn’t it be better to bring her to her peak two or three times before sinking his cock balls-deep in her heat?
The cool kiss of a lubricated condom made him flinch. He watched her hold the tip and roll the thin latex down over his dick. There was no comment about the icky consistency or the leftover lube on her fingers. Instead she unfastened her pants and pushed them down over her hips.
He had to lock his knees to keep from falling when he got his first look at her bare pussy. “No panties?”
“I don’t like feeling restricted.” She kicked free of her pants and her flip-flops. “And I can’t wait any longer, Owen. Take me now.”
Any desire to prolong the foreplay died in that instant. Owen cupped her sweet ass and lifted her onto the counter. She slid her arms around his neck and spread her legs wide. The bouncing end of his erection probed the naked lips of her cunt, and everything insid
e Owen went molten.
He was shaking and trying not to show it. “You put me in. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, but I’ll do anything to get that big prick inside me where it belongs.”
He couldn’t look away from the sight of her hand wrapped around his shaft. She spread her legs a little farther and tilted her hips. The petals of her sex glistened with juices, and he was shocked by how wet and ready she was. He clenched his ass when the head of his cock breached her entrance. Her breath hitched, and Owen felt her legs lock in the small of his back only seconds before she pulled him all the way in.
He was buried, surrounded by Mattie, and it was exquisite. She nestled her face against his neck and nipped at his skin. Owen began to move inside her. It was good, amazing, in fact, but not enough.
“Harder, Owen. Fuck me harder. I need it!”
The countertop creaked as he did just that. Gripping the outsides of her thighs, he pulled out and slammed back in. Better, but he wanted more. He did it again and again until their bodies were slapping together and the cabinets were rattling.
She was hot and tight and wet, and he knew instantly he’d never get tired of this. There would never be enough of Mattie. Her heels ground against his back, her nails digging into his shoulders. He wished he were naked. He wanted to be skin to skin while he fucked her.
Their mouths met in a tangle of lips and teeth as they grunted and rutted like animals. Pleasure zinged through every cell in his body, and Owen felt his release approaching at full speed.
Desperate to make her come with him, he spread her knees wider and angled his hips. He sensed more than felt her clit as it skated along his slick shaft with each stroke.
“Owen, yes! Just like that.” She arched her back and began to urge him on with her voice.
Her muscles clenched so tight around him it was agony to thrust against her. He pushed deep and felt her come undone. Her pussy melted around him, and Owen cursed the thin condom separating him from the sweetness of her climax.
Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro Page 3
