Staking His Claim (Line of Duty #5)(24)

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 f*cked 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 f*ck 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.