Last Light (16 page)

“Baby, of course I want to spend another day with you. I want to spend every day with you, but we can’t, and you know that. You wanted this…”

My last words hung between us. Matt’s hand stilled on Laurence’s head, then resumed down the rabbit’s back. He closed the cage and stood.

“I wanted my life back,” he said.

“Your life minus me.”

“I didn’t want
this.
”

Matt stormed out of the room. The bedroom door slammed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I huffed.

I let Matt cool his heels in the bedroom. Whatever. If he wanted to fight, I had plenty of ammo. After all, I was the one taking heat over
Night Owl.
I was the one acting out our charade. I gained nothing from his absence except his absence, which seriously sucked.

I never got to go to dinner with my boyfriend anymore … never got to walk down the street holding his hand … all week I slept alone in our king-size bed. The hell with him.
I
was the one sacrificing. He got his happy anonymous little life, and he just wanted more, more, more.

I sneered and dropped onto the couch.

I finished my coffee and had another cup. I played Candy Crush on my phone. I even stood on the deck awhile, enjoying the crystalline silence. I wanted to wait Matt out. He owed me an apology. But he didn’t appear, and I heard no sound from the bedroom.

After an hour and a half, I knocked lightly on the door.

Nothing.

“Matt?”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m coming in, you big baby,” I said.

I slipped into the room.

My suitcase lay open on the bed, and it was empty. Matt lounged against the windowsill smoking. Gradually, I noticed my clothes and toiletries in various places around the room.

There was my nightgown, still neatly folded, sitting on the bedside table. And there were my boots poking out from under the bed.

“Yes,” Matt said. “I put all your things around here.” He gestured to the room without looking at me. “And in the bathroom, too. And I won’t help you find them, so good luck.”

I fought to keep a straight face.

Finally, he glanced at me. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Matt…” I crept over to him and nuzzled his shoulder. “You’re crazy.”

“Mm.” He blew smoke out the open window.

“And you’re adorable.”

“Handsome,” he mumbled. His stubborn expression faltered.

“Okay, handsome.” I laughed. I plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. Matt blinked at me.

“Are you smoking now?”

“Nope.” I smiled and crushed out the cigarette. “And neither are you.”

*   *   *

I left the cabin around the same time I’d arrived on Friday, when the day’s last light stained the snow orange. Matt loved that time of day. He loved the sadness of it.

I knew he wouldn’t want to say good-bye, so after we got my stuff and Laurence’s cage into the car, we sat up front and talked about nothing. I wore my new owl earrings. Matt smiled and batted one with a finger.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll ride to the end of the road with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll walk back. It’s not far.”

I pulled out of the driveway and onto the darkening road. Flurries swirled through the air.

Matt was silent, staring ahead and running a hand over my thigh. Through the denim of my jeans, his fingertips set my leg on fire.

I stopped at the bottom of the hill. To our right and left, the country lane was barren.

I turned off my high beams and the car idled in the cold.

A lump of emotion formed in my throat.

“Hey, come here.” Matt pulled me over the console and kissed me. I sighed against his mouth. God, I already missed him so much.

I stroked his handsome face as we kissed and I kneaded the back of his neck. Our kiss grew hungry, and Matt tugged at my ribs to bring my body closer to his. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils. His strong back shifted under my palms.

“Hannah…” He squeezed my breast through my coat.

I gasped and dug my fingers into his shoulders.

He stilled, breathing raggedly against my cheek.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” I touched his wrist and then his fingers. I fitted his hand around my breast and he groaned.

“Let me—” Matt’s hand slid down my body. He rubbed the denim seam covering my sex. “Let me just … touch it, Hannah … let me put my mouth on it.
Please…”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. Together we fumbled with my zipper. I jerked my jeans and thong down my legs, worming around on the seat. I kicked off my boots. I spread my bare legs and gazed over at Matt, my chest heaving.

Damn … he looked so fucking good, serious as hell and hungry. And even if the roads were vacant for miles, sitting bottomless in my car felt deliciously illicit.

Matt pushed my legs open wider and leaned down to my sex, his beautiful body stretched over my lap. I curled my fingers in his hair. Oh, I loved this, and Matt loved it, too. He trembled like a starved animal every time he went down on me.

“I just … want to taste it,” he said, his breath washing over my skin.

Matt didn’t tease me like usual. He simply kissed my pussy, hard. His fingers gripped my thighs and his tongue slid into my sex. We moaned together, me into the silence of the car and Matt against my hot, wet skin.

“Matt, God … oh, God…”

His kiss was long and deep. His lips and tongue worked against my pussy; his smooth jaw caressed my thighs. Sometimes he bit down, pulling on my clit or the folds of my sex. “Good,” he whispered, licking me as I got wetter.

I tugged his hair.

With Matt, I never faked it. Matt knew what he was doing. He began to work on my clit, pushing up its soft hood and sucking at the pearl of nerves. He licked it rhythmically and my insides tightened. I pressed his mouth closer to my cunt. He moaned.
Hmmm,
he liked that …

But of course he liked it. He loved my pleasure, and my need turned him on.

I arched against the seat and raked a hand down his back. I bunched up his coat and shirt and rubbed the skin beneath. Now that it came to good-bye, I wanted him more than ever. This skin, this back, these slim hips and strong flanks … I clasped them hungrily, panting as my pleasure spiraled higher.

“L-let’s fuck,” I gasped. “Fuck me…”

But I knew damn well there wasn’t room in my little car.

As I neared climax, I began to buck against Matt’s mouth, grinding my clit on his tongue. He slid several fingers into me. Over and over he stroked my G-spot. My legs trembled. I panted and writhed. I held back as long as I could, wanting Matt and my pleasure forever, and I screamed his name when he made me come.

He didn’t linger.

He cleaned me with his tongue and watched the road while I pulled on my pants. I knew he wanted to ask me to come back to the cabin. I knew if I touched his groin that I would find him half hard in his jeans. I even knew that if I tried to return the favor, he would leave sooner and in anger.
That’s not how it works,
he snapped at me once.
It’s not a favor, when I make you come. It doesn’t mean you owe me. How can you think about it like that?

When Matt saw that I had my boots back on, he stepped out of the car.

“Next weekend, then,” he said, and he strolled into the swirling snow.

Chapter 24

MATT

I lived for the weekends, driving myself through the week by writing relentlessly. I wrote as much as five thousand words a day. I hated the writing as I always hate the writing, and I was locked together with it and without Hannah.

How are you surviving without her?
Melanie’s question dogged me.
Night Owl … paints a picture of obsession.

A picture of obsession.

She was right. I was addicted to Hannah.

I didn’t return Melanie’s call. I sent her a short message via the forum.

Pulling Night Owl off the net was rash—my bad. My brother is suspicious. Lay low about it and I’ll be in touch. Don’t worry. Don’t call. Hannah is here on and off. I’ll call you when I can. —M

Except I didn’t call when I could.

I began to think I should never have contacted Mel. She was another blind spot, another chink in my armor. I didn’t know her, I couldn’t predict her, and I couldn’t control her. If she decided to speak out about my existence, I wouldn’t be able to silence her.

Friday came again and Hannah came again, and my worries faded.

She pulled onto the drive at that finest time of day, when the light is melancholy. She brought me little things, writing supplies and food, and she dressed up for me. She wore makeup and perfume and painted her nails. She wore new lingerie—once a strappy La Perla slip that barely covered her nipples. She drove me mad.

We fucked all over the cabin. I had her on the deck, against the bathroom counter, in the kitchen, on the floor, and on one very memorable occasion in the cellar. I trussed her to an empty wine rack and fucked her until she begged to come.

And then it was Sunday again.

I rode with Hannah to the end of the road. I told myself I wouldn’t get desperate and lunge between her legs like last time.

I got desperate and lunged between her legs.

Afterward, I escaped quickly—no good-bye, just the taste of Hannah on my lips—and I climbed the road back to the cabin. Back to my self-enforced solitude.

By the second week in March, winter’s edge was gone from the air. The days lengthened and the morning sun melted the snow, though the mountains froze overnight.

We set our watches forward together.

Hannah called on Tuesday. The phone’s shrill ringtone startled me; I hadn’t heard it in weeks. I smiled and pushed away from my desk.

“Baby bird.”

“Hey.” She laughed. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, crazy social calendar, dance card full, et cetera, et cetera. What’s up?”

“Well, I talked to Kevin.”

“Bad news?”

“Good news, actually. He said I can use the cabin all spring. He’s going straight from Miami to Brazil, spending the season with his in-laws. And we got the utilities settled.”

“Perfect.” I smiled and tilted my head. Good news didn’t explain Hannah’s careful tone. “One more season. Gives us time to think.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should think now. I’m sure Kevin will want his cabin this summer.”

“I’m not worried about it. Worst-case scenario, I stay at the condo for a while. Hiding in plain sight. That, or I could move to a hotel for a few months. When you get my inheritance—” A frown pulled at my mouth. It felt weird as fuck to talk about my inheritance. It was a lot of money, and it was
my
money. To think of that small fortune slipping out of my control …

“Matt?”

“Ah, the money.” I ruffled my hair. “We can do whatever we want then. You could buy a cabin out here, something like that. Hey, I can’t wait to see you, Hannah.”

Hannah was quiet.

“This weekend,” I prompted. “I’m missing you.”

“Yeah. I miss you, too. This weekend, I can’t come out this weekend.”

Only then did I realize how much hope I pinned on Hannah’s visits, because my heart dropped and my mood froze. Clouds seemed to gather over my week. Suddenly, I hated the cabin. I hated the cold and the snow. I especially hated my writing, which ruined my life—ruined any chance of happiness and normalcy for me.

“Why not?”

“Pam’s throwing a party at the agency.” Hannah paused. “For
The Surrogate
’s release. It’s in stores on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday. I’d forgotten.”

“Yeah. I have to go to the party. And I want to. I’m excited about the book.”

“Excited about the book.” I smirked. “That’s rich. I’m glad I’m not around for any of that shit. Did Mara totally savage the manuscript?” Mara was my editor.

“No. Almost no changes were made. Just some punctuation stuff…”

“Great. They fucked with my punctuation?”

“Pam says you’re overly fond of semicolons.”

My smirk softened. Pamela Wing, my stone-cold agent. I couldn’t picture her shedding one tear over my loss, and the thought pleased me.

“God, I miss that bitch.” I chuckled. Hannah laughed, too, relief flooding her voice.

“Anyway, I’ll drive out next weekend,” she said. “It’s not so bad.”

“Mm … not so bad.”

We chatted for an hour and then Hannah had to leave for yoga.
Yoga …
I loved what yoga did for her body. She was all curvy and elastic and capable of assuming the most pretzelesque positions when I f—

“Matt?”

“Huh? I love you.”

“You’re daydreamy tonight. I love you, too.”

I flipped my phone shut, and then I flipped it back open. I dialed Mel’s number.

She answered immediately.

“Hey!” she said. “I thought you’d cut me off.”

“I was thinking about it. You’ve become a problem for me, Mel.”

She laughed nervously.

“Well, you have,” I said, “but that’s not why I called. Are you still between jobs?”

“Yeah. Are you going to make fun of me again?”

“Nope. I’m going to offer you a job.”

Chapter 25

HANNAH

On Wednesday morning, I had to park two blocks from the agency. The joys of city living. I smiled as I hurried along the sidewalk. I thought about the cabin.

Yes, I would happily use Matt’s money to buy us a cabin of our own.

I loved Denver, I loved the buzz and easy access to everything, but city life necessitates escape. I recharged in the mountains with Matt. When we lay in bed listening to the owls calling to one another, I felt satisfied at the deepest level.

They sound beautiful,
I once said. Matt said they sounded lonesome.

I sighed and laughed.

I just couldn’t understand that boy’s fascination with sorrow.

Too late, I saw a figure standing on the agency steps. My vision of cabin life dissipated. It was Seth Sky. I veered away from the steps, but he’d already spotted me.

“Hannah!”

Seth looked no different than he had in New Jersey—long hair, leather jacket, stormy eyes—except that he wore dark jeans and boots instead of dress slacks and oxfords. I didn’t let my gaze linger over how well Seth’s clothes fit.