“Yes.” Mathias nodded. “There is something about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, something that has had me all twisted up inside. I’ve been this way since I saw you for the first time.” He shrugged and looked away from me. “It would help if you weren’t so damn beautiful.”
“I should wish myself ugly solely for your comfort?” I asked, amused by his tone.
“It wouldn’t be for just me. I can’t be the only man you do this to.” He lifted his hand as if to touch me again and then dropped it. “I honestly didn’t know you were still in the building.”
“I know.” I flushed a little; the memory of us struggling on the floor burst forward, and desire slid into my body like an old friend. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been turned on by the mere presence of a man.
Mathias Montgomery was a stranger, yet in a lot of ways he wasn’t. Because of his brother, Shamus, I knew a lot about him and what he wanted for his life. I knew how much time he’d spent in the military and how much he’d changed when he’d finally come home. But hearing about the man and having him stand right in front of me was an entirely different situation.
The idea of him had been attractive. A strong, ambitious man with long-range plans for his life and a deep love for his family. But the idea paled in comparison to the living, breathing man. I wanted this man despite myself and every rule I strived to live by. I didn’t need a complication like Mathias Montgomery. Didn’t need it one bit, but I knew it wouldn’t stop me from indulging in things I had no business getting involved in.
He moved then, closer, and I braced myself. “You’ve already been on top of me once this evening, Mr. Montgomery.”
“And?”
“I’m just saying…” I gasped against his mouth and melted against him.
His tongue pushed against my lips and into my mouth in a rush of sensation that had me grasping his shoulders and pulling him tight to me. He tasted amazing, and each stroke of his tongue against mine sent a river of lust rushing through me. I moaned against his mouth as his hands slid down my back to cup my ass. Even through several layers of clothes, the bite of his fingers excited me.
I hooked one leg around his and snuggled into his body as close as possible. He responded immediately, pressing me against the car and lifting me upward slightly so he could press his cock against me. I shuddered at the contact of that hard flesh, even through all of our clothes, and when he lifted me farther, I wrapped both of my legs around his waist.
I jerked my mouth from his and let my head fall back as his lips drifted down my neck. For a few seconds, I let myself get lost in those soft, amazing kisses. Then I forced myself to release him.
He gave me room to put my feet on the ground and sighed. “If I’m going to manhandle a woman, that’s the kind I prefer.”
I laughed and sucked in a deep breath. “I agree. But you realize that it was a mistake.”
Mathias laughed softly and backed away from me. “Then I plan on making some really horrible decisions about you.”
“Oh yeah?” I watched him take another few steps back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Ms. Tilwell, that the next time I’m on top of you I’ll be doing a hell of a lot more than trying to please you.”
Silence has never been my friend, but I retreated behind it as he laughed and then strolled away. I was in way over my head. He’d flipped on my hot switch without even really touching me and then he just walked away. Not that I’d really expected him to whip it out and fuck me up against the car.
But, really, a man ought to know when he’s created a situation that requires further attention, and I suppose he did. I really could hardly wait for the next time he found himself on top of me.
Sliding behind the wheel of my car, I started lecturing myself. Getting involved with a man like him was against my only rule. Never fuck a man I’ll be required to see outside of the bedroom. Violating this rule caused all kinds of problems, and I was old enough to know better.
Yet I also knew that I was going to fuck him the first chance I got. Hard, mean, and truly as deviant as I could muster fucking was exactly what Mathias Montgomery had to look forward to.
I woke with a start, my shoulder stinging like the wound was fresh instead of the neatly healed scar it was. I sat up carefully as the pain drifted away. The dreams were always the same, always painful.
Shoving the covers back, I pulled my damp T-shirt over my head. I hadn’t dreamed about the night I’d been shot in nearly five years. I dropped my hand from my shoulder, aware that I’d been rubbing it, and left my bedroom. My apartment was small but neat and minimal.
Clutter has been my mortal enemy since grade school. Neat and orderly represented control, and that’s something that every woman needs. My childhood had been full to the brim with clutter, mostly my mother’s. She’d kept everything, and it took months of careful planning to remove most of the crap from the house after she was gone. At first, my father had been militant about keeping things just as she had left them. I guess he’d stopped caring when he’d finally realized that she wasn’t coming back.
It was then that I’d learned that my brothers had hated the junk as much as I did. I can hardly describe how relieving it had been to throw out years and years’ worth of magazines. As an adult, I knew that we dealt with our mother’s abandonment by cleansing the house of her. It was just too bad cleaning out our minds hadn’t been so easy. All three of us had abandonment issues, and none of us have ever come close to getting married. I had serious doubts that either of my brothers would ever marry.
I pulled a soda from the refrigerator, popped the tab, and drank half of it standing in my kitchen. Caffeine was a mistake, especially at three in the morning, but it tasted good. Of course, pouring a couple fingers of rum in it would’ve been nice too.
Clad only in my panties, I walked to the hallway and stopped in front of the floor-length mirror there. With a grimace, I turned on the light and stared at myself. My eyes immediately went to the puckered flesh of my scars. One on my shoulder, another on my hip, and then the last one on my thigh. Being shot in the line of duty had ended my career in law enforcement. It had also changed me in ways I’d never thought possible.
I glanced over my breasts and then the rest of my body. I worked out but ate like a pig. I’d never really been able to gain weight or grow tits. I was probably in line for more attitude when breasts were being given out in heaven. I turned out the hall light. Staring at myself in the mirror was the kind of activity that would lead to a mental disorder of some kind.
By the time I reached the bedroom, I’d concluded that my mood and my bad dream were all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten me all worked up I wouldn’t have dreamed about the shooting. Mathias Montgomery had to be removed from my mind, but it wasn’t my mind that he’d really infiltrated…it was my body. I’d been attracted to him before he said his name. When I’d thought he was a criminal. Me, the daughter of a cop, attracted to a criminal. My father would roll over in his grave.
But he was no criminal. I tipped up my soda and downed the rest. Thinking about him was not good for me…at the rate I was going I’d go back to bed and have obsessive sexual dreams about him.
Mathias “sex on a stick” Montgomery was going to be a permanent fixture in my life, and it was very important that I put him in the right place in my mind. Professionally, I couldn’t afford to lose focus. My position at Holman Gallery was new, too new to mess with. I had a finite amount of time to cement myself as the assistant director of the gallery. When Mercy Rothell had taken over the directorship of the gallery in August and slid me into her place, the opportunity took my breath away. I’d