Night Owl(22)

Matt slid my hand a little closer to his cock and left it there. He was watching the road with a stony expression. He reached over and squeezed one of my breasts, slipping a few fingers into my cleavage. I heated from head to toe.

"Matt," I squeaked. Cars were passing us and we were passing them, and I knew people must have seen Matt with his hand on my breast.

"What? This is what you want, Hannah. Don't try to deny it. You want to be used. I'm enjoying you, little bird. God, I love your body..." He shifted in his seat. The music seemed to dissatisfy him and his hand left my breast to switch to a dubstep station. Then, as if it were nothing, he retook my breast and wriggled his fingers into my cleavage again.

We rode most of the way to Boulder like that. When I tried to inch my fingers closer to his cock, he brushed my hand away and started to tease me. He said he wasn't surprised I wanted to touch his cock. He pushed his fingers into the cup of my bra, pinched my nipple, twisted it, and held it that way.

"Nn... no," I gasped, but I didn't try to stop him. Why? I was getting so turned on I'd started to worry about leaving a wet spot on my dress.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay," he soothed. "Don't fight it. I'm going to f*ck you so hard tonight. Just think about that."

I closed my eyes. My nipple was quickly going numb, but Matt kept readjusting his fingers, twisting it tighter and pinching it to keep stimulating the nerves.

I was in a daze by the time we parked and walked to the restaurant. I couldn't understand how Matt kept his cool. Fuck, I wanted to drive him insane tonight. What happened to my feminine power?

At least he couldn't tease me in the restaurant. I would use the time to refocus.

The No. 9 was small and dimly lit, and I could tell right away that it was crazy expensive. Matt had made reservations.

When we were seated, I smirked and nudged his foot under the table.

"You're so cocky. How did you know I'd agree to go out with you?"

"Oh, I didn't," he said. His serious eyes skimmed the menu. I loved the way he looked at things—with withering dismissal or raw hunger.


I wanted to be the center of his attention.

Shit. Was I falling for a stranger? This was not in line with my productive summer plans.

He sighed and closed the menu.

"If you'd said no, I would have had to bring Laurence I suppose."

I snickered.

"What, don't you have any friends?"

"Not many," he said. He leveled me with a stare and suddenly I felt so... sorry for him. My heart knotted up. Who the hell was this amazing looking guy who lived alone with a rabbit and wrote stories with strangers online?

The restaurant's cheapest plate was thirty dollars and I had my eye on it. Matt had other plans. The waiter arrived and Matt fired our order at him before I could open my mouth.

"She'll have the seared scallops and a glass of your best white; I'll have the steak roulade and a Coke." He smiled at me. "We'll trade if you don't like seafood. The white will go well with the scallops, trust me."

"I love seafood. You don't want a drink?"

"Quit five years ago," he said negligently.

Sexy god is also sober. I tucked that information into my Matt file.

Our plates arrived and they were works of art, mine an arrangement of fat scallops with shallots and a buttery sauce swirled over the plate, Matt's a cascade of rolled spinach-stuffed steak. We shared. The flavors were exquisite and Matt was right, the white wine complemented my meal perfectly.

The wine got me buzzed and I fell under Matt's spell, talking and laughing with him like we had on our nighttime drive.

Matt got me chatting about the work I'd done that afternoon.

Yeesh, for someone who felt uneasy in formal environments, Matt could carry conversation effortlessly—and he looked like he belonged in this restaurant, whereas I felt out of place.

The waiter returned to check on us.

I planned to insist on paying for my part of the meal, though I had a dreadful feeling about the cost, but Matt only smirked when I mentioned it.

"Another time, Hannah. I already paid."

How the hell had I missed that? Ugh, drowning in Matt's sexy smile, that's how.

He took my hand as we left the restaurant and strolled up Pearl Street.

If he was in a rush to get inside me, he gave no indication. His eyes trailed over the shops. Sometimes he smiled down at me. Holy height discrepancy. Good thing I love tall men.

I caught people watching us. Oh... we obviously looked like a couple. A good-looking couple, I hoped. I felt eclipsed by the elegant man at my side.

Matt stopped.

I followed his gaze to a neon sign at the entrance of an alley. It read DYNAMITE.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said dryly.

"Ha. Wow." I shook my head. "I guess it's good I know where the place is. My sister's going to be begging rides off me, I know it."

"Kind of a long haul from Denver," he said. His tone was inscrutable. His eyes were trained on the glowing orange letters. What was he thinking, looking so somber? "Mm. Let's go in."

"Wait, what?" I laughed.

Matt tugged me down the alley and I traipsed after him, struggling on my heels. I'd never been inside a strip club. This was about to get interesting.