Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (18 page)

She was glad when they pulled into his driveway. As the garage door started to chug up its rails,
Allie took the opportunity to check out the front of his house. A large two-story; it was all tan stucco and clay tile roofing, with bushes and trees, all clipped into eye-pleasing formation. The only thing to separate it from the others was the empty flagpole that climbed skyward from the center of the yard.

Seemed like there should be a sign out front stating, “Sex God Superior” or something.
She thought for sure there’d at least be some barbed wire, or sandbags.

“What’s with the grin?”
Matthew asked.

“I didn’t realize you were human.”

Matthew pulled in and shut off the ignition. As the garage door began to close behind them, his lips twisted and his hand went back to his neck. “Yeah, well . . .” he trailed off.

Allie
closed the distance between them and when her lips touched his, the insecurity she sensed in him vanished as his mouth quickly molded to hers.

After a few minutes of making out like
kids, she pulled away before her lust could smother her curiosity. “Come on. I want to see inside.” She grinned, super proud that she was able to keep her head under Matthew’s influence. At least this time.

The house was surprisingly empty, considering he’d lived in it for years now. Not empty in the sense of no furniture—he had an expensive looking cherry walnut
dinner table in the dining room, a very nice set of leather couches, and a huge smart TV in the center of the family room—more like empty in its lack of personality. No pictures, no books or magazines lying around, no personal touches of any kind.

Just as his office had been—a place to stay for a while.

This was Spartan—and it made Allie’s heart ache to see it as a reflection of Matthew. But maybe she was reading too much into it, looking for something to be broken where there wasn’t anything to fix. Maybe he just wasn’t into
things
.

Matthew
stood stiffly behind her, watching her face for the slightest twitch of disapproval. Smothering her personal feelings with a glowing smile, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you for bringing me here.” She had a feeling this was a big step for him.

“You’re welcome.”
Matthew’s hands slid to her back and pressed her into his body. His nose burrowed into the mass of her hair and he breathed it in. She shivered with the prospect of what would come next.

When the doorbell rang,
Matthew’s answering growl vibrated behind her ear.

Allie
laughed. “Guess someone saw us pull up.” It was too late for a mail call.

With a sigh, he walked to the door to see who it was while
Allie followed, anxious to see who could possibly be brave enough to disturb the layer of
the merc
.

When the door opened a little old couple was standing on the front porch. A woman with a bob of salt and pepper hair, an olive-complexion, who was thin in a scary-ballet-instructor kind of way, with fine, but severe features and eyes the color of whiskey smiled up at
Matthew. The woman obviously adored him.  Allie caught the scent of bread coming from a cloth-covered basket the woman clutched to her bosom. The man beside her was dark and thin as well, aside from a small basketball belly that strained against his pullover.

“Mr. and Mrs.
De Luci.” Matthew’s smile was warm.

“
Matthew.” Mrs. De Luci stepped forward to wrap a knobby hand around him. “I’m so glad you’re back. I know it’s late, but we were up and saw you come home.” A thick, old world Spanish accent rolled over her words. When her eyes slid to Allie they widened. “My, you have company.” Mrs. De Luci seemed shocked by the idea.

Matthew
turned to Allie and tugged her forward with a gentle hand. “This is Allison Young. My girlfriend.”

Girlfriend!
Squee
!

Allie
primed. It was hard to keep the giddiness out of her expression as she shook hands.

“
Allie,” Matthew said, “this is Giana and Stephano De Luci.”

They were both gawking at
Allie, obviously impressed by her presence. Allie bit her lip, feeling like a bug under a microscope. Anxious fingers smoothed down the sides of her dress.

Mrs.
De Luci was all radiant smiles. She held out the basket of bread to Allie as Matthew ushered them into the front room. Then the old woman linked a bony elbow with Allie’s and patted the back of her hand.

Matthew
’s predator gaze followed Allie, tight at the corners of his eyes.

“My goodness, but
Matthew has never brought home a
girl
before.” She leaned farther in and Allie steadied her, afraid she’d tip over. “We thought he was one of those gay fellows. After all, he refused to date my niece, Elisa.”

Oh, boy.

Across the room Mr. De Luci called out, “It’s not gay, it’s homosexual.”

“Gays,
Homosexu-what’s-its”—she waved a hand—“
paaah
.” Dark eyes settled on Allie. “I’ve never met a gay before.” She winked. “I keep hoping to. I think they’re simply fascinating.”

Allie
twisted toward Matthew, a whole lot of
help!
in her eyes. The tremble of Matthew’s upturned lips and the lightening of his eyes suggested she was on her own.

Allie
decided it best if she tried to take control of the conversation. “How long have you known Matthew?”

“Since he moved in, my dear.”

“Oh?” Allie could only imagine the excitement of having Mrs. De Luci next door. Neighborhood busybody.

“Oh, yes.
Poor boy. Never stops working. He needs to settle down and get a wife with some good hips. Not one of those skinny types that are all bone.” She dropped her eyes to Allie’s hips and her lips pursed with approval. “You will do for him, I think. But you must eat more.” Mrs. De Luci patted her hand again. “I’ll bring over a nice casserole tomorrow.”

Help!

She turned back to Matthew; face tight with panic. Her mouth popped open as she saw the bastard shaking with silent laughter. He wiped the corner of his eye when he found her looking at him and coughed.

“We keep an eye on
Matthew, though. Don’t you worry,” Mrs. De Luci went on. “We watch his house and collect the mail while he’s away, too.” She turned to her husband. “Did you give Matthew his mail yet?”

“Yes, ma’am, he did.”
Matthew held up a stack of letters with one hand.

“Did you get the pink one? It said
urgent
.” She jabbed a bony finger toward the stack.

Matthew
flipped through the mail and produced a pink solicitation for a credit card. “This one?”

“Yes, that’s the one. You should open it
immediately
. It expires in a few weeks.”

“Yes, ma’am.
I will.”

Mrs.
De Luci turned back to Allie. “He’s such a good boy. So well behaved. And such strong legs.” Mrs. De Luci looked up and down Matthew with appreciation. “Stephano had legs like that only a few years ago.”

Uh, huh.
Mr. De Luci looked like he’d been past his expiration date for the last twenty years. 

“Now, you be sure to take good care of
Matthew.” Mrs. De Luci smiled; her wrinkled face full of affection.

Allie
met Matthew’s gaze across the room and warmth swirled in her chest. “I will.”

The couple moved to the door and said their goodbyes. As
Allie and Matthew stood in the doorway, hands linked behind their backs, inspiration struck and she pulled the bundle of lace from her clutch and discretely slipped in into his hand.

Matthew
looked down and cracked his palm to see what she’d given him. His breath hitched and his eyes instantly filled with heat. His fingers tightened around Allie’s fingers and she knew he’d make her pay as soon as the old couple left. A delicious shiver slid up her spine at the possibilities.

When
Matthew shut the door, the heavy sound of the deadbolt sliding into place had her thighs squeezing together, just to keep her upright.

They were here.
In Matthew’s house. Alone.

He raised the panties and pressed them to his mouth. Slowly, eyes never straying from
Allie’s, perfect white teeth set into the lacy edge and tugged, ever so slightly. And Allie was suddenly back in his office, that first day when she’d so boldly sought him out; and just as then, her lungs now burned with the need to breath, and Matthew was
still
consuming the whole universe, narrowing in on her with that deep green, almost black, stare.

Instinct sent her feet shuffling back as, with frightening grace,
Matthew stalked her into the kitchen. When her butt bumped against the edge of the countertop she stopped, legs unsteady.
S
he was already panting for what was surely to come.

“Nervous,
Allison?” His words were dark velvet along her skin.

“No.” Her eyes shut for a second as she tried to steady her raging heart.

He was just . . . so . . . everywhere.

Her eyes flew open
once more when his hips pressed into hers and she automatically opened to him.

His nose brushed over the edge of her jaw, a slow kind of torture that drove
Allie crazy while his words vibrated over her throat. “This dress is incredible on you. Makes me want to take it off.” He bit down on her earlobe and a cry of ecstasy flew from her lips.

Hands restricted around her waist, his head dipped to where her heart beat like a wild bird against her ribs.
Oh!
The warmth of his mouth began a lazy torture over her needy flesh.

How could he send her to the edge so quick
ly?

He was a master composer and she was born to sing for him. She arched into his chest while her hands moved to his head. When the hair prickled beneath her fingers she smiled.

Yes
, she thought with triumph. She affected him, too.

Hands
slid down to his shoulders. He was so amazing. His heavy shoulders bunched and rippled, filled with latent power. The power to either destroy . . . or to send Allie spiraling, headfirst, over the edge into bliss.

His hands dropped to the hem of her dress and it was jerked all the way over her head. She stood there
dazed, staring up at him. How had he gotten it off so quick?

He stood back to admire what he had revealed, and
Allie watched the ridges of his nostrils flair. Her breasts spilled over a blood-red bustier. Black, lace ribbon was wrapped around her waist to tie in a small, flat bow over her bellybutton.

Matthew
shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts, and growled, “If I’d had any idea you were wearing
this
beneath that dress, we’d never have made it out of the damned parking lot.”

Then he was on her again. Rough hands cupped her ass and he tossed her up onto the counter.
Allie leaned back on her elbows, watching him through lowered lids. Her high heels clattered, one by one, to the floor.

Muscles bunching,
Matthew leaned in and kissed her—possessed her—just as his finger slid the silky fabric aside and . . .

“I’m thirsty,” he said and turned to pull a beer from the fridge.

What?

No! Come back!

She listened to the hiss and pop of the bottle being opened, ready to weep from the torrent of raging lust beneath her skin.

When he walked back to her, he asked, “Thirsty?”

She shook her head, words stuck in her throat, and he frowned.

“No?” His hand settled over the center of her clavicle, glided between her breasts, and stopped at her trembling belly. Her nerve endings sparked to life along the path his hand had traveled. She was wild for him, needy and desperate for the relief only he could give.

Her eyes widened when he tipped the bottle over and trickled some of its icy liquid down the path his hand had just made.
Allie moaned as the lazy trail of golden liquid drizzled down her front, and dripped onto the counter between her legs. Matthew took a drag on his beer and then, very deliberately, set it down. This time, when his lips met her skin, they were icy and wet. Her shoulders shivered as Matthew’s tongue began to lave along the line of liquid.

“Good beer, baby?” he whispered against her belly.

Green eyes held on to hers, refused to let her go as his head dipped lower.

“
Ahhh
!” she cried as pleasure shot through her hard.

Allie
could hardly catch her breath before Matthew scooped her up. Her eyes fluttered as she sank into a sleepy daze, and her arms wrapped around his neck.