Staking His Claim (Line of Duty 5)

Now that he had nothing left to distract him, his mind went immediately back to Lucy. With the thought of her came a wave of self-disgust so powerful, he wanted to break something with his bare hands. He’d severely fucked up tonight. Going to Bryant Park to check up on her, his intention had been to keep a safe distance, just to make sure no one bothered her. At least, that’s what he’d told himself. If he was honest for two seconds, he would admit he’d been starving for the very sight of her. Then she’d been so close, lying in the grass, nighttime falling around her. She’d looked so damn beautiful in her dress, a content smile on her lips, he’d had no choice but to get closer. As if he’d been magnetized.

She hadn’t been smiling for long, though. In typical Matt fashion, he’d found a way to ruin her night and break the trust she’d given him so freely. What he’d done to her in the park had been a form of torture, especially for a responsive, uninhibited girl like Lucy.

One look at her had rattled the chains he’d wrapped around his needs, tempting his inner demons to the surface. Demons that belonged in the past, but refused to stay there. He hadn’t been able to get a handle on them or consider the consequences before he’d twisted her dishonesty into permission to punish her. By withholding her pleasure, he’d made her feel ashamed, or worse, ridiculed. Completely inexcusable. Lucy had nothing to do with his past or what it had done to him.

What she didn’t realize is, demons or not, he wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer. He’d been desperate to feel her climax around his fingers.

Matt rubbed the back of his neck impatiently. The rational part of him insisted her outraged reaction was a good thing. In one fell swoop, he’d guaranteed she wouldn’t come on to him ever again. She’d stop examining his body with those sea-glass eyes, as if she wanted to tear his clothes off at the first opportunity. Stop begging him with her body language for a repeat performance of their afternoon in the motel room. Hopefully, she’d decide she’d had enough fun dabbling in his world and move on.

Right?

Fuck no. Those were all mistruths he told himself in an attempt to make them stick. To appease the conscience that told him over and over again, you are not right for her. Or anyone. He’d proven that tonight, hadn’t he? Yet despite all that, what he really wanted, so badly his hands shook, was to go back in time and give her that orgasm. The kind that made her thighs clench and her words slur. The fact that he’d let her walk away unsatisfied made him feel like a caged animal. It might be fucked up, it might be completely off base, but he’d somehow taken mental responsibility for Lucy. Her pleasure. Mine. I didn’t satisfy what is mine.

It was dangerous to think of her in those terms, because it could never happen. Look at how his control deserted him in her presence. He’d been down that road, watched people he’d known so well turn on him, look at him like a stranger. His messed-up past could never touch her. She saw him as one of her adventures and nothing else. While there was still time, he should walk away. Stop making excuses to see her. Touch her.

Instead, he found his ESU truck making the turn toward the Upper West Side, rather than downtown where he lived. The second he made the unconscious decision, he felt relief rush through him, which quickly became a low, steady simmering of heat underneath his skin. One more time. Just one more time so he could correct the error in judgment he’d made earlier. He wouldn’t be able to sleep or eat or concentrate until he gave Lucy what he’d unwisely deprived her of underneath that blanket. His mind rebelled against any other outcome.

She needs me.

That thought overrode every warning in his head. She’s too clean. Too bright. You’ll taint her. She’s Brent’s sister and you’re seriously overstepping your bounds. Leave her alone.

She needs me.

Fuck it, I need her, too.

Matt parked his vehicle outside the town house and took the steps two at a time. He paused briefly at the door, giving himself a moment to accept what going to her like this meant. It meant he wanted her despite the lie. It meant he would no longer have the right to hold it against her. It meant a giant fuck you to doing the right thing.

Already he was battling his body’s demands and he couldn’t think past them. For several long, anxious seconds, he didn’t think she was going to answer the door, until he saw a shadow pass in front of the peephole. Then silence. She didn’t want to open the door. His throat went tight over the realization.

“Let me in, Lucy.” Jesus, he barely recognized his own voice. It sounded like he’d swallowed razor blades.

Nothing. She didn’t respond and he heard no movement. He racked his brain, trying to remember some stray drop of knowledge he’d learned from Daniel’s and Brent’s headlong dives into couple-hood. Anything that could help him here. Then it came to him. Sorry. Men were always forgetting to just apologize. Hadn’t he been the one to tell Brent that?

“I’m so damn sorry, baby.” He sighed against the hard wood. “Open the door for me. I have to see you.”

A lock turned and very slowly the door opened. Lucy stood before him in a white nightshirt that barely reached her thighs. Her eyes were puffy. From sleep or crying? His heart seized at the idea it could be the latter. Barefoot, hair tumbling around her cheeks, she looked so achingly fragile, he wanted to fall on his knees and bury his face against her skin. Absorb her warmth and give her his own in return.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the wary note in her voice hitting him square in the stomach.

Matt didn’t have the words. He rarely did. Everything had stayed locked up inside his head so long, he didn’t know how to say the right thing anymore. So he braced his arm on the doorjamb and leaned in close, thanking God when her lips parted in awareness. He hadn’t managed to obliterate her attraction to him, at least. “I’m sorry, Lucy.” He took a chance and let his mouth graze hers gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Her breath hitched as she swayed closer. “For what?”

“Not making you feel good when you needed it.” He traced her lower lip with his tongue. “Let me in so I can fix it.”

“Matt,” she started, shaking her head. He was losing her, so he took it a step further. Couldn’t afford to let her say no. He hooked one finger in the front of her low-rider panties and tugged her closer, satisfied when her eyelids drooped. “You probably shouldn’t come in.”

“No?” His hand coasted over her belly, then lower so his knuckle could run just under the edge of her underwear. “If you don’t let me in, how am I going to find out if you’re sweet all over?”

Seeing that he’d distracted her with that question, he backed her into the town house and kicked the door shut behind him.

“How do you intend to find that out?”

She knew. Matt could tell by the way her eyes challenged him from underneath her lashes. She just wanted to hear him say it. Christ, this girl made him hot. Somehow innocent, tempting, and challenging all at the same time. The wariness was still there, too, instilling a renewed urgency in him to replace the trepidation in her eyes with passion.

Her breasts were outlined by her thin T-shirt, alerting him to the fact that she didn’t wear a bra. They rose and fell with her quickening breaths as she watched his face. A desire to get her out of that T-shirt so he could suck and lick his way over every inch of her gorgeous body burned everything else out of his universe. He realized his thoughts must be showing on his face because her own expression shifted, clouded with need.

Without wasting another moment, Matt brought his mouth down on hers. Goddamn. A groan ripped from his throat. He hadn’t kissed her earlier and the feel of her lips brought on a fresh wave of heat. He’d forgotten what it felt like to slide his tongue along hers, feel her plump lips fall open to accommodate him. Kissing Lucy felt like breathing. He didn’t have to think about it. They simply moved together, instinct taking over.

Reluctantly, he broke away to let her catch her breath. Already, his cock felt like it was being strangled in his pants. As she s

ucked in oxygen, he spoke against her lips.

“You going to give me a nice little taste, Lucy?”

Instead of answering, she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him down for another searing kiss. Matt cupped her bottom in his hands and boosted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Immediately, she squeezed him and began a hot little writhing motion that had him stopping to press her up against the nearest wall, to give her three quick pumps of his hips.

“Hottest fuck of my life,” he growled into her neck. “Can’t think of a goddamn thing but getting back inside you. What did you do to me?”

No, he couldn’t get lost in her like this. Tonight was about giving her what he’d deprived her of in the park. He couldn’t wait to give it to her. With a growl, he yanked her off the wall and walked her into the living room. He broke their kiss to lay her on the nearest surface, an oversize ottoman in the opulent living room. God bless the girl, she tore her own shirt over her head, jostling her curls so they fell over one eye, making her look like a Playboy pinup instead of an accordion-playing grad student. She looked up at him, all swollen lips, upturned breasts, and excited green eyes, and his heart tripped all over itself.

If I’m not careful, she’s going to rip me wide open.