And see the tenderness in his eyes turn to disgust?

No. Maybe it made her a coward, but she couldn’t do it. Just a few more hours and she could leave him with a fond memory, instead of the outrage she suspected would come along with finding out she was Brent’s little sister.

Outside the bathroom, she heard the door close. Taking a deep breath for courage, she pasted a smile on her face and walked out into the bedroom to find him, hands on hips, staring thoughtfully at the door. He snapped to attention when he saw her, but looked less than pleased.

“The car is re—”

“I heard,” Lucy interrupted brightly. “That’s great news.”

“Is it?” Matt said under his breath. Swallowing hard, Lucy pretended not to hear him as she pulled on her clothes, doing her best not to wince when the material dragged over her sensitive backside.

When she’d finished dressing and he still hadn’t moved, she had no choice but to face him. There was no way to prevent her eyes from tracking down over his shirtless body. Good Lord, he enlivened every cell in her body. Knowing she could never allow herself to touch him again caused her physical pain. “What?”

“You seem awfully eager to leave.”

Lucy steeled herself against the urge to drop her purse and throw herself into his arms. Instead, she waggled her eyebrows. “I’ve got big plans for this week. I guess I’m eager to get started.”

Then without a backward glance, she breezed out of the room and headed in the direction of the garage, hating herself a little more every step of the way.

Chapter Five

Matt’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as he exited the Holland Tunnel. Minutes away from dropping Sasha off and he still had no idea where the hell they stood. She’d been feigning sleep for the last fifty miles, head propped against the window, her curls still messy from his goddamn hands. Several times he’d had to tamp down the urge to pull over and drag her across the console onto his lap. Not to f**k her, although that’s undoubtedly where it would lead if he got that close. First, though, he wanted to get an honest reaction out of her. If it meant interrogating her on the side of the highway, he’d been prepared to do just that.

Then the flashbacks had started, causing him to question everything. Had he imagined her enthusiasm when they’d made love back in the motel room? Had her uninhibited response been a projection, something he’d wanted to see, but didn’t really exist? It stood to reason, since she’d been deathly quiet afterward, standing motionless in front of him in the bathroom, pale as a ghost. God, if he’d hurt her…

Matt glanced at her delicate form for what felt like the thousandth time. Shit, he’d been rough as hell with her. She’d seemed to want it, even requested it. Hadn’t she? He’d been so f**king gone for her, bursting at the seams with lust and the need to please her, he wondered now if that had shaded his perception. His needs had been kept locked up so tight for so damn long. Sweated out of him nightly as he went round after round with the punching bag that hung suspended in his apartment. He hadn’t been prepared for her. Hadn’t had time to bring the urges down from a boiling point to the slow simmer he walked around with each day.

He came to a stop at a red light just as another unwelcome image assailed him. A familiar woman, forcibly pushing him away, eyes filled with disgust. Get away from me. What is wrong with you? I don’t even know you anymore, Matt.

Unease clogged his throat. Had he missed the signs with Sasha? Even worse, had he…ignored them? It had been so damn long since he’d allowed that side of him to surface, maybe he’d been too overcome with need to recognize that she’d wanted him to stop. What other explanation could there be for her sudden urgency to leave? If he’d had his way, they would still be in that motel room. He’d be f**king her in the shower, on the bed, on any available surface he could find. He sure as shit wouldn’t be getting ready to drop her off at a f**king Starbucks in Midtown.

As soon as they’d gotten on the road, her plan had changed. She’d texted a “friend” who apparently thought it was easier if they met at yet another coffee shop. This friend thought their apartment would be too hard for them to find. He hadn’t bought it. He didn’t want to drop her off at all, but if he was being forced to leave her somewhere, he wanted to see her there safely.

Maybe she’s scared of you and doesn’t want you to know where she’s staying.

Matt swallowed that disturbing thought, hoping it wasn’t true. The light turned green and he eased off the brake. He wanted to see her again. Hell, he needed to. If only to make up for taking her from behind on the floor of a motel room. She deserved better than that. He wanted to be the one who gave it to her. Had he blown his only chance? This couldn’t be the last time he laid eyes on her. The very notion of their association ending in mere minutes felt undeniably wrong.

Up ahead, the Starbucks came into view and he barely resisted the impulse to keep driving. All the way to his downtown apartment. How would she react? Not well, he thought, wryly. As much as she’d surrendered to him that afternoon, she was full of fire. Not the type to take lightly a man changing her plans without consulting her.

With a brick in his stomach, Matt pulled his car to a stop outside the Starbucks. Right on cue, Sasha opened her eyes and gave an exaggerated stretch. “Good timing,” he said.

She blinked innocently. “W-where are we?”

Right. He sighed and climbed out of the car to retrieve her suitcase, all the while trying to figure out how to convince her to give him another chance. He could see her rounding the car through the back windshield, could see her nervous expression. Already, he could practically feel her slipping out of his reach. You did this. It’s your fault she can’t wait to get away from you.

The second Sasha reached him, she curled her hand under the handle of the suitcase. “Thank you. I, um…appreciate the ride.”

It was right on the tip of his tongue to tell her he wasn’t leaving. That he wouldn’t just drop her off in the middle of New York City and drive away. That it felt unnatural to leave her, period. But she continued to avoid his gaze, shifting nervously like she might break out into a sprint at any minute. It was worse than he’d anticipated. If he insisted on staying with her, it could increase the damage he’d already done.

Having no other choice, Matt reached into the still-open trunk and retrieved his police notepad from the duffel bag he kept stored there. As she watched wide-eyed, he wrote his phone number down on a piece of paper and handed it to her. He knew if he asked for hers, she would balk. This would not be the last time he saw her, though. If it meant biting the bullet and asking Brent to get her number from Lucy, he would do it. Even if it meant handing his friend enough material to torture him with for years. She was worth it.

“If you need anything, you call me. Anything.” Unable to resist, he took a step closer, letting his fingers trace down the side of her face. Did her lower lip tremble of out fear or something else? “I don’t like this.”

“What?” she whispered.

“Not knowing where you’ll be. Who you’ll be with.”

She looked to the side. “You’re not responsible for me.”

His thumb brushed her lip. Fuck it. He couldn’t hold anything back with his girl. “Maybe I want to be. Use my number, Sasha.”