The Blue Lion, page 2
part #1 of Cape Danger Series
"Oh dear. Poor Megan," a snide voice said close by. It sounded like Andrea's voice.
Meg froze, blinking. Her cheeks were hot, and she heard people around her gasping with dismay at her fall and asking if she was all right. She raised her head, trying to look around for Matt, but she couldn't see him.
It suddenly dawned on her. She couldn't see anything.
"No. Oh, no," she whispered.
"Princess? What is it?" Matt's voice. He had left the line to come for her. "Contacts?"
"Yes, both of them." Her voice was tremulous.
Strong arms reached down to grasp her elbows and bring her to her feet and into his arms. His hand on the back of her neck pulled her closer, until her head was tucked under his chin. "Wait here; I'll bring your purse."
"Matt, my glasses aren't in it. I'm sorry, I meant to get them—the lenses must be on the floor somewhere—I need to hunt for them." Her voice was growing more frantic by the second.
"Megan. Stop." he whispered into her ear. "Listen to me. I tucked your container of contacts into your purse on the way. Hear me?" He began guiding her toward the restroom and took her shoulders into his hands. "Wait here. I'll get it." Disappearing for a brief moment, he returned, holding the purse open so he could see what was in it.
"I'm buying you another purse. One where everything doesn't fall to the bottom."
Meg waited patiently as he retrieved them, placing the little plastic holder into her hands. "Here. I'll wait here for you."
By now, the restroom was almost empty, and she made her way to the sink with shaking hands. Staring into the mirror at the fuzzy image reflected back at her, she wanted to cry. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen on her face in front of the crowd of her peers. She'd done it in high school more than once. Her parents hadn't had the money to purchase contacts then, and she'd often been guilty of taking her glasses off for vanity's sake.
Remembering Matt was just outside the door touched her heart. The way he'd hugged her to him after she'd fallen, the way he always looked out for her meant the world to her. He'd probably noticed she'd left her glasses, and that was why he had picked up her extra set of contacts.
He'd looked out for her since the first day she'd met him. At age twenty-four, Meg had come to see him after a viral illness that had hung on too long. She was wearing her glasses then, but when Matt stepped into the room to see her and she saw how handsome he was, she immediately took them off and stuffed them into her purse. He spent a good deal of time with her, and his comment, "I'd like to see you again in a week," was met with no resistance at all, even though she had to take off work to keep the appointment.
During the following week, she'd been unable to think of anyone but him, and when she went back for her follow-up, she'd deliberately left her glasses in her purse. She'd been embarrassed when she stumbled going into the exam room, hoping no one else noticed.
But Matt had. The first thing he asked was where her glasses were. Her answer of, "I-I don't always wear them," had not convinced him, and he'd taken her outside in the hall for a brief vision test. When he realized how poor her sight was without them, he'd brought her back to the room and demanded she put them back on and wear them. He'd taken her by the shoulders and said, "You look beautiful without them. And you look beautiful and intelligent with them. Hasn't anyone ever told you intelligent is sexy?"
She'd never believed him. But the fact that he tried to reassure her was so precious, she'd fallen the rest of the way—and there wasn't far to go—for him then and there.
"Princess? Are you okay in there?"
She jumped. "I'll be out in a minute." Drawn back to the present, she managed to get her left lens in place, and then she could see well enough to get the right. She was thankful he'd brought the little container with the solution in it. Her hands were still shaking when she moved toward the door and met him outside.
He was waiting for her, just as he'd promised. Taking her in his arms for a long hug, he brought her around the other way to the back of the line. It was almost finished, and he handed a plate to her. She managed a smile and a nod when others asked if she was all right. The truth was she was humiliated beyond belief.
"You okay?" Nikki whispered suddenly, from her left.
Meg managed a smile but could only nod. "I'm all right. Just flustered."
"I'm so sorry. Andrea had a smirk on her face. I was about to slap it off, but Scott wouldn't let me."
Meg shook her head, forcing a grin. "I'll speak to him. He should have let you do it."
"Yeah. Someone needs to."
Matt's voice was quiet as he got her into her seat. "How's my girl?"
She swallowed, hard. "Embarrassed. I just want to go home."
Matt put an arm around her and brought her close. "Look around you, sweetheart. Do you see anyone looking at you?"
She raised her eyes and glanced around at the throng of people. He was right. No one was looking at her at all. She shook her head.
"If you really want to go home, I'll take you. But it would be much harder for you to face them at the next reunion." When she didn't answer, he gave her a squeeze. "Tell you what. After I get my dance, I'll take you if you still want to go."
She nodded. It was hard, but she managed. The MC began to lead them through the short program, and the music started. Her husband took her hand and began leading her to the dance floor. Before she knew it, she was in Matt's arms and slow-dancing. He held her closely, possessively, and she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
A slow smile lit her face as she danced the next two numbers in his arms.
The next one was a faster one, and he leaned down into her ear as it started. "Still want to go home?"
"Yes." When she nodded, he retrieved her wrap and said goodbye to Scott and Nikki. Nikki waved to her, a sympathetic expression on her face.
"Later," she mouthed, putting a hand to her ear. "I'll call you."
Chapter 2
Matt's heart went out to her. He kept an arm around her after putting her in the car and starting the engine. Drawing her closer to him, he kept his voice gentle. "I'm sorry, princess."
Meg looked away miserably. "I'm sorry I'm such a klutz."
He grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I believe we've talked about this before. I won't listen to you denigrate yourself, young lady. I saw it happen. I just couldn't get there in time to stop it."
She stared at him. "I don't understand."
"I mean," he said firmly, "the tall woman of the bunch you spoke to earlier this evening deliberately put out her foot and tripped you."
The expression she gave him was incredulous. "Andrea? Why would she do that?"
"You tell me. She purposely raised her foot and caught yours. You barely missed the table coming down. Scared me half to death. She knows I saw it. She didn't even have the decency to appear penitent."
Meg was trying to compose herself, and he gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Seat belt, princess."
"How did she know you saw it?"
"It probably had something to do with me glaring at her all the way across the room." He watched until she reached over and pulled the seat belt out of its holder, clicking it closed. Then she leaned back in the seat with a sigh.
"Good girl. I'm proud of you for hanging in there even after it happened. I don't know what her goal was. But if it was to embarrass you enough so you'd leave and go home and you did, she now knows she's lost."
The big blue eyes Meg turned on him made him want to stop the car and strip her bare right there so he could make love to her. He nearly lost control before he could get her home. She had absolutely no idea what a primal response she evoked in him.
The driveway was dark when he pulled the car into the garage. Meg had remained silent the rest of the way, but she'd reached for his hand as they pulled out of the country club and held on tight.
He leaned across to her as he put the car in park. "All right, princess?"
She smiled. "I'm all right."
"Yes or no—are you up for some demanding—and I do mean demanding—lovemaking?"
The smile spread, and her eyes danced. "Demanding? Depends."
A brow rose. "Depends on what?" He lifted her chin. "Have you recovered from your fall?"
"Yes."
"Do you hurt anywhere?"
"No."
"Good. Because you promised me five hours. I'm about to take every minute of it."
A giggle from her reassured him she was indeed all right, and he opened her door a moment later. Taking her hand, he brought her out of the car and led her into the house. He closed the door from the kitchen to the garage and locked it then turned to face her. Reaching for her, he folded her into his arms.
"Prepare yourself, princess," he growled into her ear.
Meg turned in his arms. "For what?" she said in a sassy tone.
He immediately picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, sliding his left hand up under her dress. Smooth, silky thighs met his hand as he dipped it in between them, bringing it higher. Holding her across the back of her thighs with the other, he reached further up with his left and hooked his fingers through the top of her panties, tugging them down in one swift pull.
The motion was answered by a soft moan. Once again, he reached upward and caressed the soft cheeks, giving one a firm squeeze. She squealed.
"Now," he commanded, when they reached the top. "I'm going to set you on your feet. You are to stand there and wait until I undress you and not move. You're to face forward. Hear me?"
She gulped. "I hear."
Meg waited as Matt set her down gently, facing away from him. She felt the zipper as it came slowly down the back of her dress. A few seconds later, the dress pooled at her feet on the floor. She felt her panties tugged the rest of the way down next. He reached gently for one ankle, then the other, to lift her feet high enough so he could drag the garments out of the way. The slip was next, and he unfastened her bra with an appreciative sigh.
She was naked. A slow shiver went down her spine.
A moment later, he moved her forward to stand at the foot of the four-poster bed with its railing across the end. Taking one wrist, then the other, he set her hands down on the rail on either side.
"Keep your hands there, and bend over the rail."
Meg took a gulp and leaned forward. The result was that her bottom was high in the air.
"Don't move, princess."
"What are you going to do?" she whispered.
"Feast my eyes on you, first. Then, you'll see. No—I said don't move."
She waited. And waited, feeling his eyes on her. She moved slightly to try to see what he was doing.
A hard hand landed on her bottom just before he chuckled, almost at her ear. "You don't listen well, do you? But I already knew that."
His voice was closer than she expected, and she jumped. Ever so softly, she began to feel his light kisses, starting above her knees and moving upward. As they reached the underside of her bottom, there was a nip with his sharp teeth.
"Oh!" She gave a small groan, and he moved to the other side and repeated it. She couldn't help it; she wiggled away just before two hard hands grasped her hips on both sides to hold them still. She felt his hands guide her legs further apart.
"Thighs apart." It was a command, and she obeyed. A strong pat on her bottom, followed by a sharp swat on her pussy caused her to gasp.
"Ow."
"Relax, and close your eyes."
"I can't."
"Megan Savannah? That's an order."
Meg closed her eyes as his hands began to explore and caress. Strong fingers moved down between the cleft of her bottom and traveled past her rosebud, gently moving toward her clit. She shivered all the way to her core as he began to deftly circle her button; at the same time, he rhythmically moved his long fingers in and out of her channel, tapping every few seconds and evoking a response she had learned to treasure.
She moaned. "Oh…"
"Ah. You like that."
"Yes," she whispered.
She could almost feel him smile. Trying to turn far enough to see him, she felt another swat and let out a whimper.
"What did I say, princess?"
She closed her eyes once more, and his hands began to explore once again. This time, two fingers invaded. A groan escaped as his hands carefully explored, moving from one area to the next. She was wet; she could feel it.
Her hand behind her, she reached backward into empty air.
A chuckle answered. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I want to touch you."
"Not this time. Be still now. Hands on the rail. Head down. Bottom up."
The deep timbre of his voice sent a tingle all the way down her spine as she obeyed. She felt the depth of bliss building; His hands returned to their place as her breathing turned to panting.
"Matt! I-I can't—"
His voice was at her ear once again. "Did I say you could come yet?"
"No, but—"
"Then wait for my permission."
She moaned. "You're killing me, Sir."
A soft laugh answered. "No, I think not." He grazed his hand once again between her soft folds, letting out a chuckle as a keening sound left her throat.
"Now? Please?"
"How do you ask, princess?"
"Please… Sir?"
He leaned over her and kissed her shoulder. "Now. Let it out."
Meg panted harder, faster, until she couldn't hold it any longer. She let out a desperate cry of release that sounded guttural. Wave upon wave overtook her as she struggled to whimper between their possession.
"Breathe, sweetheart."
Meg worked hard to obey. She barely heard it as the zipper of his trousers came down, but she felt it as he entered her. Would she ever get used to his girth? She let out a whimper and tried to suppress a groan as he gave a deep thrust inside her.
"Oh, Matt…"
He withdrew and entered again, slightly harder, then withdrew again. She felt her legs being moved further apart as he lifted her bottom and put a pillow under her. Her feet no longer touched the floor, and his thrusting began to grow rhythmic, harder, stronger. She couldn't control it; he brought her to release once again and reached his almost simultaneously.
Meg lay there silently under him, her bottom nestled in his groin. She tried to regain her breath, realizing he was doing the same.
A moment later, he turned her and lifted her into his arms. Climbing up into the big bed, he settled her gently in front of him and held her from behind. As he wrapped his large body around her small one, he moved her long hair back from her face, whispering softly, "Rest a moment, princess. I'm far from finished with you tonight."
Meg awakened the next morning with a smile on her face. Reaching for Matt, she felt only cool sheets under her hand and realized he was already up. The smell of fresh coffee wafted up the stairs, and she sat up in the middle of the bed, thinking about the night before.
Matt had awakened her several more times during the night, and her mind played back each one, sending shivers traveling down her spine and making her tingle all over again. His lovemaking was not always as demanding as it had been when he'd first hauled her up the stairs, but there was something about his dominance that demanded her unconditional submission. She couldn't help it; she was forced to admit she loved every single second.
She'd never felt this way about anyone else. Headstrong and independent, her response to him had completely surprised her. She often wondered if it had surprised him as well.
He worked so hard, and when he wanted to love her, no matter how fiercely, she was always delighted. He'd been on call the last three weekends in a row and had given up his fourth to go with her to her ten-year reunion.
"He's a keeper," she whispered to herself, scooting over to the side of the bed.
She moved into the bath, laughing when she saw herself in the mirror. Matt liked her hair down, so she'd left it that way for him. But the dark hair that grew halfway to her waist looked a sight when she awakened, especially after several sessions of his powerful lovemaking. She turned on the hot water, grabbed a quick shower, and searched the highboy for a robe, finding only a sheer gauzy nightdress to pull over her head. Taking a moment to brush the tangles from her hair, she tugged on a pair of slippers and moved down the stairs to find him.
"There you are. I smell coffee. And bacon? You're cooking."
Her husband stood at the stove but turned to grin at her as she entered. "Ah. There's my girl. Couldn't you find something a bit more see-through to wear?"
"I tried. Apparently, today is the day to do laundry."
He winked. "I like it. Come here. Breakfast will be ready soon. I figured after what I put you through during the night, the least I could do was cook this morning."
"My hero," she sighed, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Sit. I'll pour your coffee. Then I have some questions for you."
She moved to the bar stool next to the island, climbing onto it. "What kinds of questions?"
Matt turned back to the stove and reached toward the toaster next to it on the counter. Pressing the button, he lowered the bread into it. "Patience, princess."
"I can pour the milk if you like," she offered.
He reached up into the cabinet to bring down two glasses, and she opened the fridge. "Hm. Looks like this should be grocery day, too."
A second later, they sat, side by side. Matt took her hand and blessed the food, and then he turned to her, frowning.
Meg met his gaze. "You look troubled."
"I am." He studied her for a moment. "I want you to tell me about these girls you met with last night."
"Okay." She cut into her eggs thoughtfully. "We're supposed to meet next Saturday at eleven for lunch. At the Blue Lion."
"Downtown?"
She nodded. "Heather Hicks owns it, with her husband. She's the one who called us over. You might know him; he's the coroner."
Matt speared a piece of egg with his fork. "I do. I saw them together. Heck of a nice guy. Tell me about the others, beginning with Andrea."
