Staking His Claim (3 page)

“Hot guy. Lake house.
Cruel Intentions
on DVD.”

Matt snorted. “What else is on your list, Sasha?”

Something in her chest pinched when he used her roommate’s name, but she determinedly cast it aside. “Do you really want to know?”

He frowned at the windshield. “That bad, huh?”

She held the list, pretending to read it. “Crash a wedding at the Waldorf. Rappel down the side of a forty-story building. Break a billionaire’s heart.”

When he sent her a dark look, she merely winked at him to assure him she’d been joking.

“Very funny.”

“About time you noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed.” His gaze raked her thighs, moved up her belly and over her breasts. The air-conditioning blasting through the interior of the car became totally inadequate as Lucy’s body heated like a furnace. “Believe me, I noticed.”

Her breath escaped her in a shaky puff. “Yeah? Are you planning on doing anything about it or ignoring me until we reach New York?”

“Ignoring you isn’t exactly an option.” He sounded almost angry. “Not when you’re sitting that close, smelling that damn good, with your thighs falling open to fuck with my head every other mile.”

Oh my God. Who the hell was this guy? In the wake of his words, her body began to hum like an electric generator. “Y-you only answered half my question.”

His jaw flexed. “I’m dropping you off in New York the same way I picked you up.”

“Bored?”

He shook his head. “Clean.”

Lucy reeled a little under the impact of his unexpected answer. That single word told her so much about him while at the same time, spawning a hundred more questions. He thought touching her would…tarnish her? It didn’t fit in with the arrogance he wore on the surface. She opened her mouth to ask him to clarify what he’d meant, then decided against it. The set of his mouth told her she’d be wasting her time. Delving any deeper would just shut him down completely.

She took a breath and glanced back down at her itinerary. “There’s only one important activity on the list. The rest is just funny business.”

“Funny business.”

Lucy nodded. “Correct. Thursday, however, is important. It’s the sixtieth anniversary of my grandfather proposing to my grandmother.”

“You’re celebrating with them?”

“Actually, Matt, they’re dead.” She shook her head. “Way to bring up a painful subject.”

He shot her a look, smirking when he saw she was kidding.

She let her head fall back on the headrest. “He popped the question on a bench in Central Park. I’m going to be there for the exact minute it happened.” She shrugged. “Kind of like a tribute.”

“You won’t be alone for that, at least. Someone will probably be asleep on it.”

She covered her eyes. “Please, stop. Your optimism is blinding me.”

Without missing a beat, he handed her his sunglasses. Lucy put them on.

Before she could ask him how he saw through such dark lenses, something under the hood of the car snapped, screeched and fell into a thumping pattern.

“Serpentine belt,” Lucy said automatically as Matt cursed, pulling the car onto the shoulder.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” If Matt had spent any amount of time with Brent, he knew about the Mason family obsession with cars. Diagnosing his engine trouble would definitely tip her hand. “I said…I don’t like how that felt.” He shot her a suspicious look, but ultimately climbed out of the car. She debated a moment, then joined him under the hood he’d propped open. Seeing the frayed belt, she let herself enjoy a little surge of pride at being correct. “Uh-oh. That looks bad.”

He was already dialing his phone and didn’t answer. When what Lucy assumed to be roadside assistance answered, he rattled off their location perfectly and described in exact detail the engine’s condition. His words were clipped and precise, telling her how close attention he paid, even when he appeared to be lost in his own world. She needed to remember that.

“How much is it going to cost to tow it back to New York?” Matt asked into the phone, before wincing at the answer. “How about the closest garage? Fine.”

He hung up.

“That sounded promising. Tow back to New York too expensive?”

Matt cast a look down the busy highway. “It literally would have been highway robbery,”

A laugh bubbled from her throat. “At least you’ve maintained your relentless sense of humor.” She stepped back as he closed the hood. “So, what now, Chuckles?”

His throat worked as he grazed her with another head-to-toe perusal. In that moment, she got the odd impression that she made him nervous, but that couldn’t be right.

“Good question,” he finally answered, with all the enthusiasm of an undertaker.

Chapter Three

He was actually checking into a roadside motel with the rosy-cheeked girl next door. If she knew, if she had even an
inkling
of the thoughts bombarding his mind, she would have taken her chances hitchhiking the rest of the way to New York City.

They’d ridden in the tow truck to the nearest garage, whose mechanic had informed him they could have a serpentine belt ordered for his car by morning. Which meant they were stuck overnight, still three hours from home, in a convenient motel adjacent to the garage.

Convenient. Right
.

While they waited for the slow-moving motel clerk to wake up his ancient computer, he decided it would be safer to book her a separate room. He didn’t trust himself having her within reaching distance. Throw in a convenient bed and time to kill…he’d be screwed in more ways than one.

Right on cue, the clerk lifted his head. “One room?”

“Yes,” Sasha chirped.

“Two,” he answered at the same time.

Doing his best to ignore the way her tempting lips pursed in disapproval, he handed the clerk his credit card. When he saw the man eyeing Sasha with not-so-subtle interest, he nearly snatched it back. He didn’t like the look on the clerk’s face. In fact, it kind of bothered the shit out of him, especially since he’d brought it on by claiming they required separate rooms. So much for retaining his sanity.

“On second thought, just one room,” he said, holding on to the card until the clerk met his eyes. Hopefully, a room with two double beds and a decent enough cable hookup would keep him distracted. Matt almost laughed out loud at that. A teeming swarm of locusts couldn’t distract him from her. She stood beside him silently, chin set with unflagging positivity, enveloping him in that cinnamon-vanilla scent that seemed to get more noticeable with each passing minute. He wanted to mingle that scent with his own, drag her down onto a flat surface and smell every inch of her skin to determine where it radiated from the strongest. Then…God,
then
…he wanted to hear several screamed apologies, back to back, for making his cock hurt so badly.

You can’t do it. Remember the damage you’ve caused.

The clerk cut off his disturbing thoughts by handing him back his credit card. He stared at Sasha the entire time. “All set for room number fourteen.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Is there somewhere to eat around here?”

“Not within walking distance, I’m afraid.” His hands moved furiously over his desk before handing her a stack of glossy, colorful menus. “Lots of takeout choices. Or I could take you to pick you up something. I get off in—”

“Thanks, we’ll manage,” Matt interrupted. Apparently the clerk was as slow as his computer. Putting his hand on the small of Lucy’s back, he led her out of the office. A glance at a mounted blue sign had him turning right. “If you want something to eat, I’ll get it for you.”

She held up a Domino’s menu with a flourish. “I swore after grad school, I’d never order another Domino’s pizza. Didn’t even make it one full day.”

“I’ll let you pick the toppings.”

“Oooh. A humorist
and
a gentleman.” She grinned up at him, blissfully unaware of his sudden desire to hand-feed her, bite by bite, watching her mouth accept the food he offered. “Be careful or you’ll be stuck with me longer than a night.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

“I’m growing on you. I can tell.”

Matt bit back a sudden smile. How many times had he been required to do that today? As they walked, his thumb eased under her shirt of its own accord, finding a dimple at the base of her spine. He almost groaned out loud, wishing he could drop to his knees and explore the valley with his mouth. Bumps raised along the skin of her neck as he watched, telling him she felt it, too. It was alarming, how quickly the pulsing need had risen. He could usually keep it leashed until it came time to engage in the actual physical activity. With this girl, his leash had been pulled taut since the moment he laid eyes on her in the coffee shop. Now it threatened to snap. He desperately needed to keep himself in check, for the entire night. But in his current state Matt worried he might not even make it to their room.

He took a deep breath and removed his touch from her skin, wanting to feel the shifting warmth again instantaneously. Green eyes watched him curiously, as if she wanted to say something, but she held out her hand for the key instead. When he followed her inside, it was a struggle not to drag her down to the floor and erase that curiosity once and for all.

Donovan, you’re losing it. Reel it back
.

Sasha set her purse down on the bed and picked up the telephone. “Pepperoni and black olives?”

He hated black olives. “Your choice.” As she placed the order, Matt was painfully aware that he paced the motel room like a starved lion. When she finished her call and flopped back on the bed, he came to a standstill. Jesus, he needed a distraction. Something to keep his mind off her exposed stomach. “So how do you know Lucy?”

She sat up slowly. “Right, Lucy. Um, we met skinny-dipping, actually.”

Perfect. Just the distraction he needed. “How’s that?”

“A group of my friends sneaked in after hours to the college pool. Illegally, I should add. We thought we were total badasses. Until we walked in and saw Lucy already swimming a naked breast stroke.”

Matt felt a tug at the corner of his mouth, even as his body reacted to the image of Sasha, dripping wet, emerging from a pool. “Sounds like the Lucy I’ve heard about.”

In what seemed like an absent gesture, she ran a hand over the comforter. “How come you’ve never met her? From what Lucy told me, it sounds like you’ve been friends with her brother for a while.”

He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. “I’m not big on family barbecues.”

“No sightseeing, no barbecues. Are you sure you’re American?”

This girl made him want to smile and snarl all at the same time. If that had ever happened before, he sure as hell couldn’t recall it. Since her question didn’t require an answer, he used the opportunity to ask something that had been weighing on his mind since his car had broken down. “Where am I dropping you off tomorrow?”

A long pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we reach the city, who are you staying with?”

“A friend,” she answered too quickly.

Something dense and dangerous settled in Matt’s belly. The arrival of jealousy was unwelcome and inappropriate. They didn’t have a relationship beyond driver and passenger. He knew that, but rationalizing with the feeling didn’t make it go away. “Male or female?”

“Marsupial.”

“Sasha.”

She visibly winced and the feeling only increased. This girl he was lusting after, feeling territorial over, had a boyfriend. “Female,” she answered finally. Matt wasn’t sure he believed her, but her softly spoken word calmed him relatively. At least enough to keep at bay the images of her with another man.
Delivering
her to that other man.

He nodded toward the remote control attached to the bedside table with Velcro. “Why don’t you find something to watch? I’m going to rinse off.”
In the ice-cold shower.

Looking relieved that he hadn’t pursued the subject of where she’d be staying, she nodded, flipping on the television as he passed. Matt walked into the bathroom, turned on the light, and pressed his forehead against the door. Without hesitation, he dropped his hand to the front of his jeans to massage his weighty erection. He had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. Since he’d walked into the damn coffee shop, he’d needed to relieve the pressure and now he’d finally get his chance. He couldn’t stop himself from picturing Sasha’s teacup-sized breasts. The way her nipples had beaded in the air-conditioning of his car. The pale smoothness of her inner thighs. How he’d like to mark them with his teeth.

When he heard a gasp, followed by a groan, outside the bathroom door, it took Matt a moment to realize the sound hadn’t come from his fevered imagination. He held his breath and listened, frowning when he heard it again. Before he even registered his own movement, his hand closed around the doorknob and flung the bathroom door open.

Sasha squealed and dropped the remote control like it was on fire. He realized then, the sounds were coming from the television. A man and a woman, in the throes of orgasm, writhed and bucked on a four-poster bed, cheap art hanging in the background. Porn? She was watching porn?

He pinned Sasha with a look, but she was too busy searching for the remote underneath the bed, ass pointed straight up in the air. “It was the first channel that came on, I swear.” Her voice was muffled, but he could just about make out her rambling words over the screams of ecstasy coming from the television. “And it’s the weirdest thing because I don’t even
watch
porn, but it came up this morning over coffee with a friend. Crazy how things work, isn’t it? No porn for years, not a hint of it, then
bam
, it’s everywhere.”

Matt stood very still, trying his best to find humor in the situation, because she was so clearly lying. Porn definitely got her motor running. But at the end of the day, he was a man. When a gorgeous girl in jean shorts is waving her ass at you, an ass that has been haunting you
all day
, against a backdrop of moaning and slapping flesh, any attempt at maintaining control is compromised. Desire, thick and urgent, arm wrestled with his willpower as his feet started to move. Toward her? Toward the door? He didn’t know.

Finally, she sat up on her knees, face flushed from embarrassment and exertion. Her lips were parted and chewed-on. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. And clean. He shouldn’t.

With his control hanging by a string, Matt strode for the door. Just before he reached it, he felt her push up behind him. Hand frozen on the knob, he sucked in a breath as her hands coasted over his ribs and ran up his pectorals with just enough pressure to make his eyes close.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

The leash inside him snapped.

…

Lucy’s breath got trapped in her lungs when Matt reversed their positions and threw her up against the door. It shook behind her on its hinges, but she didn’t feel any pain or alarm. How could she when the man in front of her captured every ounce of her focus? When she’d looked up at him from her kneeling position between the beds, she’d been startled by his expression. Torment had greeted her and she’d known that somehow
she
was partly responsible. He’d wanted her, too. There had been no mistaking that, thanks to the unmistakable bulge behind his partially unbuttoned jeans, his dilated pupils. She could feel his arousal now, rigid against her belly. He pressed their bodies together, head to toe, his mouth drawing oxygen from hers. Her wrists were manacled by his hands, held against the door at her sides.

Between her thighs, dampness spread. This incredible show of dominance…she liked it. A lot. It was what she’d been sensing under his cool surface all day, even if she hadn’t recognized it at the time. It’s what she’d been responding to in the coffee shop, during the drive. What she’d unconsciously been craving since they’d locked eyes that afternoon. Possibly even before.

Layered beneath the longing, the overwhelming stretch and buildup in her stomach, existed a need to calm whatever she’d seen raging inside him. It felt like a responsibility. One she wanted. One she’d be damned if anyone else got before her.

She attempted to search Matt’s eyes, but they were closed tight, the lines between his eyebrows deeply furrowed. His body felt ruthlessly taut, like the string of a guitar. All his strength, held back with firm resolve. “Matt, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, his lips moving hers as he spoke. “I want to turn you the
fuck
out. That’s what’s wrong, baby.”

Her exhale came out sounding like a moan. She’d known he desired her, but hearing just how much she’d turned him on was a potent aphrodisiac. His voice had taken on a new, rougher quality, crumbling the final illusion of calm, collected Matt. This Matt wanted to take her. Hard. But for some reason, he didn’t
want
to want that. Why? “No objections here. I want that, too.”

“You don’t.” He dropped an openmouthed kiss onto the curve of her neck. When she whimpered her enjoyment, it turned into a bite. “You don’t know what that means. Not with me.”

She was going to lose him if she didn’t act. Her hands were immobile, held tightly in his grip, her body flattened so completely against the door, she couldn’t move her hips. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and bit his ear, tugging it hard. His growl sent shock waves through every corner of her system. “Show me, then.”

In one swift motion, he curled his hands around her knees and yanked her legs up to circle his waist. “Squeeze your thighs around me—
tight—
or I’ll put you over my knee.”

Lucy felt every vital muscle below her waist clench. Holy hell. What had she managed to coax to life inside this man? Why did it excite her more than anything in her recollection? She thought she understood what he meant, but wanted,
needed
, to hear him say the words. “Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Matt enunciated, “I want to pleasure your sick little body. I want to make you scream and shake and lose your fucking mind.” He surged up between her legs. “But before that, I want to erase any doubt as to who is about to take ownership of you, good girl. Have I scared the hell out of you yet?”

Oh, God. A little. Not enough to want to stop, though. “No.”

“Liar. You know what I do to liars?”

“Kiss them?”

“You want to be kissed?”

Lucy nodded eagerly, her gaze dropping to his mouth. More than anything in the world.

Matt licked his lips. “You going to rub that tongue against mine and turn me into a madman? Be ready to drive yourself crazy in the process.”

“I’m ready for anything.” She held her breath as he leaned in slowly, all that wild intensity focused on her mouth. Back and forth, he rubbed their lips together, tasting her in small, sampling licks and bites. Her eyelids refused to support themselves even as she struggled to keep them up, to watch him. As if each bite of his teeth was injecting her with venom. Not the poisonous kind, though. The kind that attuned every cell in your body to whoever had administered it.
Matt
.