He could overlook her finding reasons to pop up at the grocery store, where he worked nights, restocking the shelves and unloading trucks. He could almost chuckle at the times he had caught her riding by his house, staring straight ahead as though she were unaware of him outside washing his car or mowing the lawn. But, the one thing Matt could absolutely not forgive Elizabeth for was when she plopped down in the seat next to him at the crowded movie theater, holding a huge box of popcorn and a large soda. Her crunching and slurping, though certainly not loud by any stretch of the imagination, were enough to keep his mind off the antics of Bill Murray and the gopher, and on the slender girl with the strawberry blonde hair sitting next to him. When she offered him some of her popcorn, holding the box out to him while keeping her eyes glued to the screen, he could have cheerfully choked her. She was acting like they were on a date, for God's sake. His first impulse was to scoot in his seat as far away from her as possible and pretend she wasn't there. But when she laughed at the candy bar floating in the pool and turned to him and smiled, as if to share the joke, something inside him shifted and he found himself leaning to her and whispering fiercely in her ear, "After this, you and I are going to have a talk."
Matt stepped over Elizabeth as the closing credits rolled, not even bothering to see if she was following him. He nodded goodbye to the friends he'd come with, refusing their invitations to head over to Pizza Hut after the show and check out the local talent. He knew, without looking, that Elizabeth hovered behind him, a green-eyed wraith with a halo of reddish gold hair. He headed to his car, opening the passenger door and then slamming it shut after she slid onto the seat. He drove toward the highway without speaking to her, not stopping until they were in the parking lot of a truck stop about ten miles out of town. He parked in a dark corner, away from the glare of the fluorescent lights and finally turned to her. His gaze darkened when he saw that she didn't even seem afraid of him or his mood. Instead, she simply smiled and said, "Did you like the movie?"
"What the hell are you doing?" He bit out each word, emphasizing the third with particular relish. "I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to see you again."
That was a lie, but, Matt wouldn't admit it to her. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to see her again, as that he didn't want the responsibility of seeing her again. Playing with a girl like Julie, who slept with pretty much anything with a cock between its legs, was one thing. She knew the score. But, Elizabeth was different. Matt was no dummy. He knew how to spell trouble. And , in this case, he sensed that trouble began with the letter "E".
"You're lying," she said. Matt sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair, making it stick up in front. He looked into her green cat eyes and thought, not for the first time, that behind them lay a witch or, at the least, a minor psychic.
"I'm not lying," he lied, running his hand through his hair again. "I have no interest in seeing you."
She leaned close, her lips still shiny with the grease from all the movie popcorn she'd consumed. When she dropped her hand on his upper thigh, the heat nearly singed him. "That day in the park. It was . . . . "
Matt closed his own eyes to block out the expression on her face. Jesus. One orgasm in the woods and the girl was acting like a sex-starved beast.
"I'm not playing with you again," he told her firmly. "You bring along way too many complications."
She pondered that silently, twisting away from him to stare across the parking lot at the eighteen-wheelers that lined the pavement. "Is it because I'm a virgin?" she finally asked.
"Yes," he answered bluntly. "Among other things."
"What other things?"
What other things? How could he explain that he put girls into two groups. Play partners, and nice girls. And, despite her behavior in the woods, he instinctively knew that Elizabeth was a Nice Girl. Capital letters. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to lure her to the dark side. Let some other sorry son-of-a-bitch deal with the tears and recriminations when she realized that her virtue had been snatched away. Or the angry parents when she ran to them for forgiveness.
Elizabeth's hand tightened on his thigh. "What other things?" she repeated.
The twitch in his groin made him angry and he batted her hand away. He threw the car into drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot and back on the highway toward town. "I have my limits," he finally said.
She peered out of the window. For one guilty minute, he thought she might be crying. He clenched his fingers on the steering wheel, resisting the urge to put his hand out to her in comfort. When he stopped the car just down the street from the theater, he turned, ready to offer a brief apology, some reassurance that she was a wonderful girl who would find a nice guy. But, to his surprise, she was out of the car and heading down the street before he could even speak.
Heading down the street, he realized uncomfortably, in the opposite direction of the theater and her house. He swore, yanked the keys out of the ignition, and went after her. When she heard the footsteps behind her as she headed along the darkening street, she turned. He knew she saw him, knew exactly who was behind her, but she broke into a jog.
"Damn it," he muttered, loping after her. He was closing the gap when she started moving faster, turning down a residential street that ended in a dead end. He saw her pause, glance back over her shoulder, and edge into the trees at the end of the street. He could have sworn he saw a stubborn, defiant look on her face in the glow from the streetlight just before the trees blocked her from view. He ran faster and steeped into the wooded area, then paused, listening for any sound that would reveal her whereabouts.
"Elizabeth," he said. "I don't have time for this crap. Where the hell are you?"
"Go away," came a faint voice, somewhere on his left. "I offered it, you didn't want it. You can just piss off."
"Elizabeth, don't be stupid." He slid to his left.
"Bite me, you arrogant prick."
His hackles rose at her defiance, and he continued to move silently toward her voice. "Come here," he commanded. The tone in his voice would have brought even Julie to heel.
"You had your chance. You can't boss me around."
"You're acting like a baby." He lowered his voice so she would think he hadn't moved from the edge of the woods.
"Fuck you." She enunciated each word carefully, and she must have tossed her head in emphasis, because he suddenly caught a flash of silvery red in the faint moonlight that streamed through the trees. He held his breath and eased toward her. Yes! There she was, her back to him. She had reached the creek, and she must be trying to figure out how to get across. He was trying to figure out how to get to her without her hearing when she added, "You stupid asshole."
He moved quickly, slipping up behind her and clapping his hand over her mouth before she could react. He trapped her arms and hands tight at her sides with his left arm, and twisted her body so her legs were pinned between his. Then, he took a deep breath to clear his emotions before he spoke.
"Such terrible language for such a sweet girl," he murmured. "Been taking lessons from Julie?"
Elizabeth wiggled in his arms, her voice muffled by his hand. Matt pressed his lips against her ear. "No, I'm not letting you go. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
She gave a grunt, which he decided to interpret as "Yes, Sir," even though the cadence was more reminiscent of "go to hell".
He kept his grip tight as he thought about his next move. If he lifted the hand covering her mouth, she might scream. He was pretty sure no one would hear, or care, but he didn't want his eardrums burst. And, if he took his left arm away long enough to bind her, he ran the risk of having his face scratched.
He finally lowered his right hand long enough to clamp his lips over hers. He twisted his fingers in her hair, pulling the silky strands taut against her scalp as his mouth devoured hers. His tongue slipped between her lips and explored the soft, warm, popcorn-salty recesses of her mouth. Her right hip pressed against his crotch and as his cock began to fill with blood, he rubbed against her, heightening his arousal. When he finally lifted his mouth, she was breathing heavily, but was otherwise silent. He kept his hand twisted in her hair and his eyes repeated his verbal warning. "Don't make a sound."
