Read Matthew: The Circle Eight Online

Authors: Emma Lang

Matthew: The Circle Eight (27 page)

BOOK: Matthew: The Circle Eight
7.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
With one last suck and a lick at his tip, she let him go. He let out a shaky breath and leaned over her.
“Lie back, woman.” Although he didn’t usually talk to her like that, Hannah found herself liking it.
She found a comfortable spot and did as he bade, the hay crinkling beneath her. The soft sounds of the horses, the chirping of the night creatures, were the only things around them. They were in their own paradise, their little piece of heaven on earth.
Her heart swelled with love as he nudged her entrance. She held his gaze as he pushed inside her, inch by inch. The love in his eyes made her breath catch. When he was fully sheathed inside her, he stopped and took a breath.
“What’s wrong?”
He chuckled painfully. “I didn’t want to come the second I was inside you.”
She reached for his hand and placed it on one breast. “Then keep yourself occupied.”
This time he didn’t laugh. He smiled, then bent down to take the other breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the turgid peak, lapping at one nipple while his hand tweaked the other. She grabbed his behind and pulled until he got the message and started moving.
His was a slow pace, one meant to savor the joining, prolong the pleasure. She closed her eyes and reveled in it, contracting around his cock, pulling him in deeper with each thrust.
He bit her nipple and she gasped, her muscles tightening, so he did it again. It was a trigger, one that sent them both careening toward their peak. Hannah felt it in her toes, traveling upward, and in her breasts, traveling down. The tingles and zings of pleasure moved through her until they all coalesced between her legs.
His mouth found hers in a bruising kiss, one that mimicked what his body was already doing with hers. Her tongue slid against his, warm and slippery.
She scratched at his back, urging him to go faster, harder. He didn’t need encouragement as his pace had quickened along with the pulsing inside her. She held on when the explosion began deep within her. Her silent scream of pleasure was meant for him, for her love.
She clenched around him, becoming one with him. He bit her again, this time as he found his own peak. Hannah was transported to the stars, her husband by her side. Her heart stopped as the perfect moment made the world around them pause. Exquisite ecstasy showered down around them.
Hannah trembled with the power of what they’d shared. She had always enjoyed making love with Matt, but this was different. This transcended all of those experiences, and crossed into a sharing of souls. She had found the other half of herself.
“Love you, Matt.”
“Love you, Hannah.”
They snuggled together, using his shirt as a cover, and slept. Matt and Hannah had found what they’d been searching for all their lives. Love.
Have you tried Emma Lang’s other books?
 
Ruthless Heart
 
He led her astray, and she never wanted to go back ...
 
Sheltered all her life, Eliza Hunter never imagined herself alone in the vast Utah plains, much less trailing a mysterious, rugged man hired to hunt down her beautiful younger sister. Unable to reveal the truth about her pursuit of him, Eliza plays student to his teacher, transforming herself in the process. And when she finds herself sharing the warmth of Grady’s campfire, wrapped in his arms, hypnotized by his power, soon she is a naive spinster no more ...
Grady Wolfe is more than a loner, he’s a man forever on the run. With a body and soul finely honed from living off the land, Grady knows he should leave the irresistible woman alone, but she stirs something in him he hasn’t felt before. Now he’s lost in the woods for the first time in his life—with a dangerous job to do. And no one—not even the luscious Eliza—is going to stop him.
 
G
rady had never met a woman like Eliza, if that was even really her name. She talked like a professor, rode around with twenty pounds of books, and could build a campfire like nobody’s business. Yet she was as innocent as a child, had a sad story about a dead husband he didn’t believe for a second, and seemed to be waiting for him to invite her along for his hunt.
He snorted at the thought. Grady worked alone, always and for good. There sure as hell was no room for anyone, much less a woman like Eliza.
He had damn well tried his best to shake the woman, but the blue-eyed raven-haired fool wouldn’t budge. Truth be told, he was impressed by her bravado, but disgusted by his inability to shake her off his tail the night before. Rather than risk having her do the same thing again, he decided to ride like hell and leave her behind. He should have felt guilty, but he’d left that emotion behind, along with most every other, a long time ago. Grady had a job to complete and that was all that mattered to him.
The only thing he was concerned about was finding the wayward wife he’d been hired to hunt and making sure she regretted leaving her husband, at least for the five seconds she lived after he found her.
Grady learned as a young man just how much he couldn’t trust the fairer sex. His mother had been his teacher, and he’d been a very astute pupil. No doubt if she hadn’t drank herself to death, she’d still be out there somewhere taking advantage of and using men as she saw fit.
The cool morning air gave way to warm sunshine within a few hours. He refused to think about what the schoolmarm was doing, or if anything had been done to her. If she could take care of her horse and build a fire, she could take care of herself. Food could be gotten at any small town, but then again maybe she could hunt and fish, too.
Somehow it wouldn’t surprise him if she did. The woman seemed to have a library in her head. Against his will, the sight of her unbound hair popped into his head. It had been long, past her waist to brush against the nicely curved backside. Grady preferred his women with some meat on their bones, better to hang on to when he had one beneath him, or riding him. He shifted in the saddle as his dick woke up at the thought of Eliza’s dark curtain of hair brushing his bare skin.
Jesus Christ, he sure didn’t need to be thinking about fucking the wayward Miss Eliza. If she was a widow, no doubt she’d had experience in bed with a man. It wasn’t Grady’s business of course, so he needed to stop his brain from getting into her bloomers, or any parts of her anatomy.
As the morning wore on, Grady’s mind returned to the contents of her bags. The woman didn’t have a lick of common sense and fell asleep, vulnerable and unprotected. Good thing he didn’t have any bad thoughts on his mind or she wouldn’t have been sleeping. She even snored a little, something he found highly amusing as he’d rifled through her things.
Her smaller bag had contained a hodgepodge of clothes, each uglier and frumpier than the last, a hairbrush, half a dozen biscuits in a tattered napkin, and some hairpins. A measly collection of a woman’s life, and quite pitiful if that was all she had. Perhaps she’d been at least partially truthful about taking everything she owned and hitting the trail. Her husband must have been a poor excuse for a provider if this collection of rags was all she had.
The bag of books was just that, a bag stuffed full of scientific texts ranging from medical topics to some titles he couldn’t even pronounce. In the bottom of the bag was a battered copy of
Wuthering Heights.
He didn’t know what it was, but it was much smaller than the other books, likely a novel. She obviously put the spectacles to good use judging by the two dozen tomes she had in her bag. He wondered how she’d gotten it up on the saddle in the first place.
“Fool.” He had to stop thinking about Eliza and what she was doing and why. Grady would never see her again.
As a child, Grady learned very early not to care or ask questions. It only bought him a cuff on the ear or a boot in the ass. A boy could only take so much of that before he kept his mouth shut and simply snuck around to find out what he needed to know.
As a young man, it served him well and garnered the attention of the man who taught him how to hunt and kill people in the quickest, most efficient way. Grady had learned his lesson well, even better than his mentor expected. When the job was put before him to hunt and kill the very man who had taught him those skills, Grady hesitated only a minute before he said yes.
The devil rode on his back, a constant companion he’d come to accept. He didn’t need a woman riding there, too.
Restless Heart
 
 
He craved her like the earth craved the rain ...
Sam Carver had the kind of body that turned a woman’s head, and the kind of eyes that had seen more than his share of trouble. But he couldn’t get enough of the mysterious, ethereal beauty who had showed up in his little Wyoming town, working at the Blue Plate, keeping to herself.
He knew Angeline Hunter was running scared, pursued by a fanatic who threatened her life. But no matter what it took, Sam would convince his angel to put her trust in him, to put the painful past behind her and learn just how pleasurable the present could be... .
 
“Y
our beau is here.”
Angeline stopped in mid-motion. “Excuse me?”
“Your beau is here. Samuel Carver is here for dinner and I would swear he’s spiffed up for it.” Alice grinned widely. “He’s ordered the ham and potatoes, with apple pie. Do you want to serve him?”
“No, I do not.” Angeline felt her nervousness returning and silently cursed Alice for her silly enthusiasm.
“Oh, why not? He asked for you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “He might not be rich, but he sure is sweet.” With a cheeky grin, she took the plate and left the kitchen.
“You might as well talk to him. Don’t listen to Alice prattle on about him being a half-breed. He’s a good boy, no matter who his mother was.” Marta put ham on another plate. This time it was for Samuel Carver. “If you hide in here, it will make it worse.”
Angeline knew she was right. The longer she hemmed and hawed about the gift and the man, the worse it would be. She needed to tell him there could be no future between them.
With a firm spine, she put potatoes on the plate to accompany the ham and nodded to Marta. “I’ll be right back.”
Angeline stepped into the restaurant and looked around.
There were a number of people at tables, but she had no idea what the man looked like. Alice’s silly description meant nothing except that he was a man. As if she’d conjured the waitress, Alice appeared next to a man sitting in front of the bay window. She pointed and winked at Angeline.
Now she really was uncomfortable, because Alice had no tact or consideration for other people. The man looked up and saw Angeline standing there.
The ground shifted beneath her.
His hair was the color of midnight, so dark it was nearly blue-black. It hung straight to his shoulders, too long to be fashionable. The ends curled up slightly as if a breeze had come through and ruffled it. His shoulders were wide, but not overly so.
He had an intense stare that made goose bumps crawl over her skin. His eyes were also darker than pitch, black pools that seemed to be bottomless. To her surprise, his skin was lightly tanned, with tiny laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. He could be any age, but she knew him to be twenty-nine. He had the demeanor of a man who had seen too much in his short life.
The bright blue of his shirt contrasted so much with the rest of him, she had to blink to absorb it all. He was a striking man, not classically handsome but fascinating.
Angeline did not ever remember seeing him before, which wasn’t surprising because she worked in the kitchen most days.
She managed to swallow, somehow, before she stepped toward his table with her heart firmly lodged in her throat. He watched her with wide eyes, unsmiling and unthreatening. She couldn’t have explained it to anyone, but Marta had been right—Samuel Carver was no threat to her.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hunter.” His voice had a lilt to it, one she’d never heard before. It was like warm honey on a piece of toast.
Angeline thought perhaps she would be embarrassed by her reaction, but she wasn’t. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carver.” At least she set the plate down on the table without dropping it.
He smiled. “I hope you’re enjoying the book.”
She licked her lips and managed a small smile. “I’ve never had a new book before. I-I wanted to say thank you, but it’s much too extravagant for me to accept.?
There, that sounded reasonable and intelligent. He, however, shook his head.
“I can’t take it back.”
“Please, it must have cost you a lot of money.” She put her hands in her apron pockets and clenched them into fists, her right hand pressed up against the book. “It’s not appropriate for me to accept it.”
He hadn’t even glanced at the plate. His gaze was locked on hers. “I know it was forward of me, but I saw you reading on the back steps one day. You seemed to be at peace with a book in your hands.”
Angeline unwillingly nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly it. It’s almost as if the books give me peace.”
This time when he smiled, she found herself smiling back. The situation had gotten complicated in less than five minutes.
“I feel the same way about books. So please accept the gift from a fellow reader. It’s nothing more.”
She was torn between what she had to do and what she wanted to do. Angeline could not become attached or involved with any man, regardless of her silly heart’s reaction to him. It didn’t make it any easier to conjure up every other reason why she needed to keep her distance from him.
BOOK: Matthew: The Circle Eight
7.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan
Unbroken Pleasures by Easton, Alisa
Murder in Burnt Orange by Jeanne M. Dams
Pattern of Shadows by Judith Barrow
Raven's Shadow by Patricia Briggs
The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama