Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (29 page)

“W
ant some?” he asked between bites.

“Sure.”

He handed her a breast—
sheesh!
probably the biggest piece in the whole dang bucket—and she started peeling off its skin.

“Don’t tell me you’re not going to eat that?” He looked down at her, horrified. “The skin is the best part!”

“You want it?” She dangled the piece of crispy brownness between two fingers.

“No thanks,” he murmured, digging through the bucket for more.

Allie dropped it in a napkin while Matthew polished off drumstick number two. They ate in silence, content to bask in the peaceful silence between them. This was nice.

She could get used to life like this.

When she was stuffed, she rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her palms to look up at Matthew. “So, why’d you buy this place? You never said.”

He stretched out next to her, resting his head on
a bicep. “Jay was buddies with the dude who owned it. Keeping it for some cabin development or something like that. Jay and I used to come out here to shoot rabbits.” His eyes were deep pools of moss, lost in whatever he was reminiscing. “When Jay died, it came up for short sale. Went into foreclosure when the economy dropped out. I made an offer.” A heavy shoulder shrugged. “Reminds me of Jay, I guess.”

She rolled onto her back and put her hands up in the air, pretending to cup the clouds in the curve of one palm. A hawk soared past her fingertips, screeching its claim to majesty as it dipped after a sparrow. “I think that’s good,” she murmured. “You should hold on to your memories with him.”

“
Hmmm
.” He was suddenly over her; the sun behind his head and around his shoulders, eyes cast black by the afternoon light. He leaned down slowly into Allie’s welcoming mouth while her fingers traced up the thick bulge of muscle that chorded his arms, too wide for her hands to span.

“I know
what you were up to with the shirt, baby”—His hand slipped down between her cleavage, to the first of her buttons—“And I approve.”

She snaked her hands under the hem of his shirt and raked her nails over his abdomen and chest. His skin was soft and warm, such a contrast to all the solid
muscle beneath. “I love your chest.” She grinned. “Have I told you that?”

Matthew
chuckled deep in his throat, all masculine approval that dripped over her senses like hot, mocha triple fudging goodness. “Yeah. I think you tell me that every time you get me naked.”—His hips surged up into her, hitting . . . right . . .
there
. In just the right spot—“Really helps build up a guy’s self-esteem.”

She ground back into him with a breathless laugh. “
Please
. Like your self-esteem needs any help.” She was panting with anticipation, barely able to string her sentence into any kind of logic. “But, speaking of naked, you definitely need less clothes.”

With some help from
Matthew, she ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it . . . to who-the-hell-cared. Fingers working over his fly in no time flat she’d pulled his waistband down below his hips and sexy ass.

Then she sat back on her heels and just took in all that perfection lying beneath her.

His chest was wide and hard, perpetually flexed around the power he always harnessed so masterfully. His stomach was a dual set of ridges, not in the superficial way that some men built up for themselves—doing a million crunches for a six-pack that was slapped over a whole lot of weakness. Matthew was all strength and deadly proficiency, strait to the center of his core. And even better, there wasn’t a speck of hair around to impede the view of his bellybutton or that v of muscle that dipped between the tight cradle of his hips.

She grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

Suddenly leaning in, both his hands fisted the hair at the back of her head. His eyes were dark with carnal promise. “I think I owe the Master Chief one for her ill-gotten win today.” Then he set off to blow Allie’s ever-loving mind.

“
Oh.
My,”
Allie gasped.

She sprawled over
Matthew’s sweat-slick chest, naked as the day she was born; all twitching arms and legs as the last delicious tremors slid through her. Her eyes were closed—it was just too much damn effort to crack them at the moment—as she focused on the soft pads of Matthew’s fingers stroking up and down her upper arms, the warm press of his lips over her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“You alive, baby?” Smug male pride radiated from every syllable. This was a man who could make his woman sing—anytime, anywhere—and he knew it.

Allie, continuing to pant on top of him, too lost in blissful recovery to string together any kind of intelligent response, was suddenly tossed on her side as he rolled on top of her with a wolfish grin. His voice black velvet against her overheated skin, “Good one?”

Boy,
was it ever.

She nodded weakly—or, at least, she thought she did—and focused on regulating her heart rate again before the damn organ shattered her ribs. When he rolled off her and began to pull on his jeans and zip up his fly, reality slapped her upside the head like the ugly troll-bitch it was.

They’d just had sex.

Very public sex.

Like, for hours.
Geeze, show a little restraint, Allie, would ya?
When she felt like she’d caught her breath enough to talk, she said, “We’ve really got to stop this.”

“Stop what, baby?” he murmured as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. That sexy-as-hell tattoo over his heart leapt against his
pec and Allie’s libido sprang to instant attention.
Ah, geeze.
She really had a problem where this man was concerned.
And screw restraint, anyway
, her inner hoe hissed while Allie licked her lips and got ready to jump him again. When his stomach muscles coiled beneath the thin fabric of his shirt her mouth watered.

Yum.

Green eyes met hers, and when they took in the famished look that was showing through every cell on Allie’s face, they turned black. He walked toward her and bent down on his haunches; muscles tight and ready to spring. His fingers trailed over the curve of one breast, down to the side of her belly, and . . . “Stop. What?”

Damn him.

“Having sex”—her eyes fluttered as she fought to not give into his fingers masterful rhythm—“in public. Like this”—
Ah!
Waves of pleasure crashed into her and she had no choice but to give in to their consuming torrent once more.

What was this for her, now?
Five? Six?

Was that even possible?

She should probably find a cigarette or something.

Matthew
’s chuckle lapped over her bare skin. What the hell had they been talking about?

Oh, yeah.
Too much PDA.

“
S’all good.” Matthew’s lips quirked. “Might have to worry about the cops showing up, though.” Green eyes met hers. “You were making so much noise; anyone passing by would have thought you were being murdered.”

“Whatever!” She would have thrown something at his head, but all her clothes were wadded up in a pile behind him. She eyed a rock and then changed her mind. If she killed him by accident, that meant no more orgasms. And she was getting pretty good at them. Besides, she wasn’t completely certain that her limbs were fully functional yet.

Settling for crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes up at him. His gaze instantly fell to her now pushed up cleavage and got that
I-wanna-do-you-seven-shades-to-Sunday
look in his eye. The tip of his tongue darted to the rim of his upper lip. “I like what you got going on right now. And that sassy pout makes me want to smack your ass before I take you all over again.”

“
Geeze
.” Her cheeks flamed and her arms fell to her sides. She had a pretty good feeling he was saying that just to make her squirm. And,
by the way
, it was totally working.

A hand flashed out and suddenly
Allie was tumbling into Matthew’s lap. His lips met hers, so warm and so sweet as his tongue explored her mouth for the hundred-millionth time—as if he could have possibly not discovered every part of her by now.

She loved him so much.

“Matthew?”

He pulled back to cradle her head between his hands, thumbs teasing the corners of her mouth.
“Yeah?”

“Can I have my clothes?” She felt a little weird sitting buck-ass nude in his lap
when he was completely clothed.

“Don’t know if I want you to ever put them on again.” He laughed. The sound was so familiar to her now—raspy and low; deep and rich as chocolate. It was crazy to think of what he’d been like when they’d first met. How intimidating he’d been. Okay, scary-as-hell was a more honest assessment. He’d been, just so in control.
So confident. Like he knew he could rip apart a whole room of people and not even break a sweat.

Allie
shivered—guess he could still probably do that.

Looking back at her first glimpse of him in that UMMA arena, she’d never have guessed what was really underneath all that deadly promise.

Her pants landed with a
whump!
in her face, followed by her shirt.

“Jerk!”
The insult was muffled through her clothes. Slipping both hands through the rough fabric dangling over her nose, she saw that Matthew was patting the grass, his eyes latched on the ground.

“What are you looking for?”

“Your panties.” He frowned.

“Squirrel probably took off with them.” She pulled her jeans off her head and turned them upside down. Giving each leg a good shake, she cried, “Ah, ha!” when a white bundle of
transparent lace tumbled out onto the blanket. She held them up between two fingers and grinned.

Matthew
snatched them away before she could blink.

“Hey!” Her eyes narrowed. “I need those!”

Lips slowly stretching with an evil grin, he purred, “Sorry. Mine now.”

She held out her matching bra.
“It okay if I put this on? Or you gonna take it, too?”

His expression darkened. “You damn well better put it on. What’s behind it is all mine. No one gets to look at
those, except me.”

Caveman
. She snorted. Such knuckle-dragging.

As she fastened the clasps on her bra and shrugged into the straps, her stomach filled with nerves. She’d wanted to ask him something for a while now, but had been too nervous to bring it up. They’d seemed to have broken through so much today. If anytime was prime to ask him, it was now.

Man,
she hid her cringe. She hoped he didn’t freak out and leave.

Letting her hair fall forward to curtain her way-too-readable expression, she thought,
here goes
, and her shoulders rose. “Um. Matthew?”
Was that pathetic squeak really coming out of her?
“Would you want to meet my mom?” She peeked through a gap in the chestnut waves.

Matthew
’s mouth was open—in shock, or anger, she couldn’t tell—while he simply gaped at her.

A dumbstruck
Matthew?

Couldn’t be a good sign.

Well, crap.
She cringed again. “I mean . . . I understand if you feel weird about it. And it’s not like she’s really lucid anymore or anything. This would probably be more for my benefit, I guess. You don’t have to if you feel like it’s too big of a step . . . like, too soon or something. I just thought I’d ask—”

“—
Allie?” She jumped as Matthew used his thumbs to tuck her hair behind her ears. When she finally pulled her big girl panties up enough to look at him, she was startled by what she saw.

Matthew
was all wide eyes and sparkling awe, his brows raised as if he couldn’t believe what she’d asked him. “You really want me to meet your mother?”

Shoulder raising and then falling, her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her eyes slid sideways. “I mean . . . you don’t have to. . .”

His hand cupped the side of her cheek as his thumb pried her hold on her lip loose. “Do you think she’d approve? Of someone like me?”

Whoa. What?

“You don’t think she’d like you?”

His mouth curled to the side with a sardonic smile. “Baby, you know as well as anyone I’m not the kind of guy
you take home to meet the fam.”

Her lips pursed. “Don’t say that about yourself,
Matthew.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know it’s true. But if you want me to meet your mom, I’d be completely honored.”

Oh, Matthew!

The amount of self-loathing that seeped through his regular bad-ass
cool every once in a while left Allie breathless.