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He’d been driving to his parents’ from that fucked up scene and her hair caught his eye as he’d spotted her through the windows at The Sands. A brief phone call to his mother to say he wasn’t going to make it and he’d headed toward her. It wasn’t like he could have done anything else. She called to him.

Feeling like a teenager, Matt’s hands shook as he drove to her house. Not a bad neighborhood. Not fabulous but solid working class. He knew which one was hers even before she turned into the driveway. The little bungalow was unique, just like she was.

He parked and tried not to shove her to her front door and pin her to the first available surface. Instead he took her hand, smiling at her that she’d waited at her car for him.

“It’s a bit of a mess. I left in a hurry earlier today.” She fumbled with the lock and her scent hit him hard when the door swung open. He couldn’t even pinpoint what she smelled like, it wasn’t perfume, she seemed too much a ball of raw energy to take the time to dab a bit of scent behind her ears. It reminded him of earth, not dirt, not musk, but vibrant, essential, heady.

“I like it. It feels like you in here. Colorful.” He looked around and took the place in. Bright framed prints hung on her walls. “Frida Kahlo right?” He motioned toward one of the prints.

She nodded with a smile. “I love her stuff. Her husband, Diego Rivera got more attention but I think her art is startling and disturbing as well as just plain gorgeous.”

“I don’t know much about art. Do you know Cassie? Shane’s wife? I think you’d like her. Your tastes are similar.” If what Matt suspected about Tate’s childhood was correct, Cassie’s experience as a victim’s advocate might be really helpful as well. If anyone could understand Tate’s perspective, Cassie would.

“I don’t. I mean, I’ve seen her around town. Who could miss her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, hello? It’s not like you can miss a nearly six foot tall woman who looks like Cassie. I’m as straight as they come and I think I have a crush on her.”

Matt laughed. Cassie was startlingly beautiful but the woman he was with right then was a thousand times more precious and she didn’t even know it. “She’s a pretty woman, yes. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. Come and sit down here. I can’t kiss you if you’re all the way over there.”

He plopped down onto her couch and she stopped, looking at him, surprised. “What?”

“Yeah, not so good with the woo am I? I’d love for you to come here and sit with me.”

Tate didn’t know quite what to do. Matt Chase flustered the hell out of her. A sense of unreality settled into her. The guy, the donut of her dreams sat on her couch and wanted to kiss her? Did she hear him right?

“Tate? Did I say something to upset you? I want more than a kiss.” He stopped and shook his head. “What I mean is I want to take you out too. This isn’t just some fun way to spend my Sunday. Although, I’m certainly enjoying being with you. God, I’m usually more smooth than this,” he mumbled and she laughed, kicking off her shoes and moving to the couch.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Scooting so that his body pressed full against hers, he put a finger over her lips. “Then don’t say anything just now. I really need to kiss you, Tate. So I’m gonna.”

His hand slid up her arm and cupped her neck, holding her, tipping her chin up. Before she had much of a chance to register anything but the delicious heat of his palm, his lips found hers.

Slow. Incrementally building up the heat, he gently led her to open up to his tongue. She’d never been really crazy about kissing but she realized it was just that she’d never been kissed by someone who knew what he was about before. All the difference in the world lay right there.

He didn’t jam his tongue in her mouth and down her throat, he teased her with it, tasted her, tickled her with the tip. His teeth joined the action, coming in to nip her bottom lip from time to time until she nearly panted with wanting him more.

The heat of his mouth moved from her lips, skating along her jaw to the hollow just below her ear. A gasp ripped from her gut when he sucked there, the wet, warm sensation shooting straight to her nipples and then to her pussy, flooding her with moisture.

Needing more of him, she adjusted, sliding her hands up into his hair.

Matt had never wanted a woman more than he did as the taste of her rushed through him. She was soft under his hands, smelled right, felt good. These little sounds kept coming from her, little moans and sighs of need, and it drove him crazy. He didn’t want to scare her but if he didn’t get inside of her sometime soon his cock would explode.

Before he knew it, her hands had slid from his hair to his chest and she was opening the front of his uniform shirt. Hesitantly but with some strength, she pushed him back enough to get on her knees and part the front of his shirt. When she leaned down to brush kisses over his collarbone before moving to flick a tongue over his nipples, he jumped, breathing her name like a prayer.

Her hair was like silk over his superheated skin. Needing to see it all, he reached back and undid the clasp holding it up. It tumbled down in a sweet-smelling wave.

When one of her hands slid down his belly and her nails scored over his cock he moved back into action.

He took her arms so he could see in her face. What greeted him, passion-glazed eyes and kiss-swollen lips, made him suck in a breath. Holy shit she was beautiful.

“Tate, I want you. Are you with me?”

Swallowing, she nodded before licking her lips.

“Bedroom?”

She stood, held out a hand and led him toward the back of the house. He felt her tremble a bit, but as he was shaking too, it was hard to tell where he began and she ended.