How To Tame Beasts And Other Wild Things (13 page)

“Mmmhmm. That felt pretty good, eh? Or maybe this,” he says, settling between my legs.

Oh, Jesus, yeah
, is all I think with the weight of his erection pressing against me.

My hands slide down his taut back muscles, landing on his ass. It allows me to get closer and feel more of him.

“You’re one solid mass of muscle, aren’t you?”

“Love, you haven’t felt my muscle yet.” He grins as his mouth lands on mine while he drags his girth against me in tease.

I reach down to feel us seconds away from connecting to each other. “You’re quite a tease,” I say softly. “I’ve been ready for a while. Months.”

“Months? You should’ve been more obvious. All of that wasted time… We could’ve been messing around.”

“You were a beastly brit. There was no messing to be had,” I whisper with a firmly planted smirk that has him laughing.

Balthazar grips the back of my neck with one hand while bracing himself with the other, as my heartbeat quickens. His eye falls into a heavy, hooded gaze. “Matilda,” he hisses as he enters me.

And he’s entering me in every possible way. Every door inside me opens, every possibility of an us finally within reach. This sex was never going to be the mere conjoining of parts. I knew all along that, if the two of us ever got to this point, we’d be a cyclone. A full immersion of passion meets lust wrapped in a magnitude of infinite emotion. I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel as if their entire being is entwined with mine. I catch myself holding my breath, and then I gasp as we connect. Our pulses match, our heartbeats racing as our nearly silent dance of desire takes us to a new plane.

“Oh, love. God, you feel good. Tight, wet…fuck are you wet.” Balthazar swears once again under his breath as he thrusts in and out of me. His hand slides under my thigh. Then he hitches my leg onto his back as his mouth collides with mine.

His intense kiss is filled with a new story I can taste with each deep lick. It says,
Find me, forgive me, be with me
. And it tells me how visible I am to him. I want to tell him so many things, each of them wrapped in a promise that says,
I want you for you. Only for you. I need you.

Our hips collide in smooth accord as he slips his hands under my arms and grips my shoulders, anchoring me to him. His one eye never leaves mine as he rocks against me.

“Matilda, you’re so beautiful to be with. I’ve wanted this for… Bloody hell… Too damn long,” he says, flipping me on top of him as he rolls onto his back. “Show me, love. Show me how you like it. Move on me, I need to watch you. Then I’m gonna fill you with my cum.”

I skim my hands up his wet, firm torso, his slow throbs piercing me. He watches me study and touch him at the same time his body undulates beneath me. I grind against him, fully aroused, and when his teeth catch my breasts and nip me, my hips slow. He glides his cock out, and his fingers slip between my legs and rub me gently until I moan and beg for him to enter me. With an animal-like groan he slides his thick length inside. His tongue, his hands, his hips find me as though he knows my body by rote. As though I’ve always been his. Could that ever be?

He closes his eye and arches up to me as I break and call out his name, every nerve ending in my body alive when I climax.

“Matild
a…
fuck…I’m…” He pulls my mouth to his as he swells while my body tightens around him. “God, yes, god…Matilda,” he hisses, while his hands hold me against him.

“Balthazar!” I cry out, letting myself go, every part of me feeling at one with him.

Balthazar

Of no use to one
Yet absolute bliss to two.
The small boy gets it for nothing.
The young man has to lie for it.
The old man has to buy it.
The baby’s right,
The lover’s privilege,
The hypocrite’s mask.
To the young girl, faith;
To the married woman, hope;
To the old maid, charity.
What am I?
 

A Kiss

“Can I sleep in here with you tonight?”

A lazy smile forms on Matilda’s lips. “You’d be in deep trouble if you didn’t.”

              Her hand traces a line from my abdomen to my chest then down again. “I’m just gonna crack the door on the boys’ room and leave ours open so they can come in here in the morning. That okay?”

“As long as it’s okay with you that they see us like this? Together?”

“Well, naturally they’ll have no idea that Daddy fucked the ‘pincess’ all night long. They’ll be delighted to see you here. I can’t tell you how much they’ve missed you.” I roll off the side of the bed, cross the hall and look in on the boys, who are wrapped around each other. To think of them waking in the morning to see me sleeping with Matilda thrills me. I’ve never heard them ask for anyone more than they asked for Matilda over the past few weeks. And, every time they’d spoken her name—
Mamama
—it ached all over inside me.

They’re all I’ve had until now. I’m assuming a lot by thinking this way. All of it’s a massive risk; all of it’s a universe of complications. But, after having been away from her, knowing she was close by, well… It’s a risk worth taking. She’s worth it. I’ll deal with Everit when the time comes.

I slide back into Matilda’s bed and spoon my body against her soft curves. She purrs out a contended sound as she rolls onto her back and sleepily looks up at me.

“The way you look at me, so full of hunger and hope… It makes my heartbeat go wild,” she says.

“I want to believe I’ve always looked at you this way.”

“I might beg to differ.”

              “Who made you feel that way, pretty eyes? Who made you feel invisible?”

“When I was growing up, all I ever wanted was to be seen. I remember my need getting stronger after my mom passed from cancer. It obviously had a huge effect on me and Lavinia. Maybe that’s when she started taking center stage even more… I don’t know. By the time I was maybe thirteen or so, I was dying my hair and making my own clothes from thrift store stuff. I’m sure I looked like an Easter basket most days!”

“But you still felt invisible?”

“For a very long time, until I realized it was more of an insecurity on my part. That sort of happened to me again when I became conscious of my feelings for you. I bought in early on and felt that all the angsty stuff was being directed at me because you didn’t see me.”

“Let me tell you firsthand: it would be tough not to see you.”

“And what about all the ‘it’s too complicated’ stuff? Haven’t we only complicated things more?”

I wind my legs with hers as I stroke her skin. Do I tell her that the depth of my unhappiness when I’m not with her is bottomless? Do I tell her that I was drowning without her air, without her life raft of a soul?

“I don’t know,” I say. “I sort of feel like we just simplified things.”

“Maybe for now,” she says with a shrug.

“Now is good for me.” I’m lying. Now will never be enough. But it’s what I have.

She smiles as she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my chest. “You want this farm, and Dad made you a deal. That’s complicated.” She lets out a sigh.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, muffin.”

“I’m always ahead of myself.” She giggles sweetly. “I’m the original riddle.”

When we wake up in the morning, the boys are still asleep, and every part of me wants to climb all over Matilda again. But, with the boys across the hall, likely to be pouncing on us any second, I maul her neck and her mouth instead. I enjoy every naked inch of her skin, not to mention her giggles and quiet, sexy whispers until we hear the boys stirring.

“I’m gonna head down and whip up some breakfast. You like eggs in a hole?” Matilda sits up and stretches her arms over her head then falls onto me.

“That sounds pretty damn filthy.”

She rolls her eyes.

I laugh. “I prefer sausage in a hole if it’s a serious breakfast question.”

“You’re the filthy one! I’ll just make them. The kids’ll think they’re great. You can have the naughty version later.”

I clutch handfuls of her gorgeous bottom. What an ass this girl has.

“Oh man, I’d better get down to the kitchen or your kids are going to be walking in on a feast. I don’t think anything about that would be good. You coming down?” she says, trying to escape my arms as she giggles.

“I’m going down, muffin. Bloody hell, am I!” I lift her legs over my face and bite her inner thigh, though all I really want is to have her settle on my mouth.

“You are barbaric! They’re going to catch us! Out of bed now!” She smacks my shoulder as I turn onto my side, throwing her onto the bed. “Get a move on it!”

Matilda whips up the perfect country breakfast, thrilling the kids to pieces with her eggs-in-the-hole business. The trouble she goes to amazes me sometimes. I drink my coffee, watching her take a heart-shaped cookie cutter to every slice of bread, making the hole to fry each egg in. I can’t help but think what sorts of memories she’ll create for the boys with the upcoming holidays. They’re likely too young to remember any of the things she does, but it still warms me to picture our house and the idea of traditions.

Every thought I have about Matilda, it’s wrapped in a future. Me—Mr. It’s Complicated. I’m already putting a future together in my mind. I have no idea how it could work, how I could get to have the farm and her. Funny thing is, as of this moment, it has nothing to do with this farm but everything to do with the idea of Matilda becoming part of my family. For the first time in years, everything seems clear.

Later in the morning, I sit down with the paper and my third cup of coffee. Matilda and the boys walk in the door with Boner, who rubs against my leg. I reach down to scratch him behind his ears—his favorite spot.

“I need to call Duke. Something’s up with Dump Truck.”

“Dumb Fuck big! He havin’ babies!” Jinx shouts with big eyes as his lips drip with saliva.

              “Dump Truck can’t have babies, mate. He’s a boy just like you.” I clutch the back of his neck to give him a kiss.

“So, his belly’s bloated?” I ask.

“Yeah. He looks pregnant. About to blow,” Matilda says, cringing.

“Shit, that’s severe. I’m sure he’s got bloat by what you’re describing. We need some mineral oil, baking soda, and warm water. He can’t be lying down. Either this’ll work or he’ll be dead by tomorrow.”

“Dead?” she asks, as her mouth drops open.

I head into the pantry to hunt for baking soda, but I look over my shoulder as I respond. “He’s got bloat, love. That’s a death wish for sheep.”

“How the hell do you know that?” she asks, digging through the kitchen cabinet.

“Worked at a sheep farm after the orphanage. Did about everything you can imagine, from helping dock tales, to assisting the shearers, to walking out anyone of ’em with bloat. Most of them die.” I pause when her eyes fill. “Well, let’s get this going. Don’t fret. Not just yet, okay?”

I make the mix. Then, minutes later, we administer it into Dump Truck’s mouth with a feeding syringe. Matilda snaps a lead rope to his halter. Then we take turns walking him to relieve his gas.

“Tully told me the animal shelter might be closing. She’s crushed, so am I. What’ll happen then to all those animals?”

I chuckle. “Well, I’m going to assume they’ll all end up here.”

“You know what? You can politely go fuck yourself.”

              “Who politely fucks themselves? If I could fuck myself it would be hard and multiple times a day. Nothing polite about it.”

“Just shush!” She walks away from me and collapses against the barn door looking like a ragamuffin as she slides down it until she’s sitting. Loose bits of hair fall across her face as mascara stains sit under her eyes. When she notices me staring, her face fills with a curious smile.

              “What are you going to do about it?”

“What the hell can I do? I’m not frigging Noah!”

“Matilda, what are you going to do about it? You told me your thoughts regarding your trust, maybe this could be your chance.”

A thousand thoughts run through my brain. All of them selfish. Or are they? Maybe she could stay here in Wisconsin. Would she want that? Maybe the animal shelter is something she could take over. Make it her thing. These are big thoughts. Too early, too big. Or is her life overseas her future? I can’t stop picturing her in my universe right here. Then, every time I see her staying here, I see the flipside. Her on a plane leaving us. Moving back to her life in Paris.

              “One, I live in Paris. Two, my dad is more than likely going to flip his lid when he finds out about us. I have no idea how I could convince him that me sleeping with my dead sister’s husband is a good thing.” Well, that answers a few of my thoughts. Everit and Lavinia forever present and complicating my life.

“Wow, what a buzz kill. Have you got someone there? A guy?”

She purses her lips then turns away and focuses on a kitten. “I had one.”

“Care to expand? You look a little green around the gills, pretty eyes. Was he a heart breaker?”

“I had a boyfriend for eight months. We met early on when I moved over there. He lived in the same apartment building as I did. He was lovely, fun, and yes…I was a star in his world…if you must know.”

She stands up and walks toward me. Her limp looking more visible than ever. “We were driving to tell his family that we were engaged. They lived on the outskirts of Paris, and um…” Her voice is husky with tears as she hides her face in the crook of her elbow.

“Matilda.” I wrap my arms around her. God, to see her sad. To see a sparkling angel like her weep—it’s like a knife in the gut. Not once has she mentioned this. Sometimes she needs a bit of pulling along. She never does advertise herself. Matilda is more of a mystery, and the intrigue for me is high.

“What happened? Do you want to tell me?”

“It was the first snow of winter and the roads were icy and we…slid.” I hug her tight as I kiss her head. “We uh…we had an accident,” she says quietly. “He died in the hospital while I was in surgery. That’s why I have the scar on my leg and the limp,” she says, patting her thigh as she pushes herself off me and hugs her body. She opens her mouth about to say something, then spins on her heel and drifts away.

              “I’m so sorry, love,” I call out.

“How has this never come up?” I ask as I tug on the ram’s lead rope and stroll to her side. She twists to face me and shrugs. “This is big stuff, you were engaged and he died?” I’m conflicted with a myriad of thoughts, and some are very wrong. An odd jealousy, an illogical resentment, and also a protective I-want-her-to-be-okay emotion that are all battling each other.

“It was big, yeah. All of it was…is,” she says in a torn, thick voice. “I guess since it’s been almost two years and I’ve gone through lots of healing, it’s not something I talk about. I don’t need to dwell on it even as big as it was.” She blows out a long drawn-out breath. “My dad doesn’t know, I was going to tell him, but I never even told Cort’s parents we were engaged because, well, they wouldn’t have been happy.”

I take her hand in mine and we mosey down the barn aisle. Matilda scoops one of the kittens up and cuddles it alongside her face. “I loved Cort, but I suppose it wasn’t meant to be. That had to have happened for a reason, not that I’ll ever know what it is. But odd as it sounds, I find comfort in knowing that I was able to heal, that I moved on. I’ll always have love in my heart for Cort. I’ve done a lot of growing up in the last two years, I may not know myself fully, but I know more. I like where my head is, and my heart,” she says as a small curve lifts on her lips.

“Those are some pretty mature thoughts for a twenty-two-year-old woman who went through that kind of loss. You’ve got an old soul in you, love. And for the record, I like where your heart is too.” I brush my fingers over her jaw then touch my nose to hers. “Have you had a relationship since Cort?”

“No. I mea
n…
a few dates here and there. Nothing serious,” she says as she sinks her hands into her coat pockets.

I place my palms on her shoulders, then slide them to her face. Holding her chilled, pink cheeks in my hands, I say, “I’m going to keep telling you something over and over.” I hope to hell she eats my words. “You are the furthest thing from invisible. Do you hear me?” I wait for her eyes to say yes.

She nods the tiniest bit, until the right side of her mouth curls up and her eyes sparkle, effectively melting me.