Matt’s stare burned into me. He’d removed the ring from its holder and set aside the packaging. I couldn’t read his expression. Candlelight glimmered on his damp skin, limned his profile, and flickered in his eyes.

“It’s, uh, waterproof. I ch-charged it … so…” I sank behind my knees.

Matt extended the ring to me. Mute, I accepted it. My fingers drifted over the butter-soft silicone. Wow. This felt like a brilliant idea when I was ordering the toy, but now—

“Put it on me,” Matt said.

He stood smoothly. Water streamed down his na**d body and his rigid length jutted from his pelvis. I dropped the ring in the water, swore, and snatched it.

Okay, he wanted it on … I got this, I got this.

“Tell me … tell me if it hurts. I’ll just…” I scooted forward along the tub bottom and wrapped my fingers around Matt’s cock. His lips twitched. My heart was doing acrobatics in my chest. I was excited, nervous, pleased, terrified, turned on—everything.

I leaned forward and kissed the tip of Matt’s cock.

“God … Hannah…”

There wasn’t a note of protest in his voice, just slow-burning desire. He gripped my wet curls. I wrapped my lips around his head, suckling and swirling my tongue. I laid a hand against his thigh to feel the muscles tensing. He loved this.

And sure, every guy I’d dated loved it, but not like Matt. When I looked at Matt while I sucked his dick, I saw the most powerful longing overtaking him, accompanied by a furious, stubborn resistance. He never wanted to show his need. He fought the pleasure as it overcame him, and he surrendered to it with low, long moans. Only in those moments did I have the upper hand, and I relished it as much as I relished submission.

I licked my way down Matt’s shaft before sliding the elastic ring over it. It stretched around his girth as I worked it down to the base. I looked up at him.

“Does it hurt?”

I caught a ghost of a smile on his lips. “No,” he said. “It feels good, Hannah.”

I massaged Matt’s balls lightly and turned on the ring.

He moaned—the sound so sharp that I jumped.

“Fuck,” he snarled. He gripped his shaft.

“Uh, sorry—sorry, let me—”

“N-no, no … it’s fine.” Matt stroked himself a few times and closed his eyes. “Fine…”

“Does it feel good? Bad?” I peered up at him.

“Good,” he breathed.

I pried Matt’s fingers off his dick and tried not to giggle. He was always taking matters into his own hands. “Let me.” I pumped his shaft and licked his head back into my mouth. I relaxed my throat and moved him deeper, moaning as I did.

Matt’s pleading began when I dialed up the ring. Powerful vibrations trembled down his c**k to my tongue, turning my moans into purrs.

“Don’t—don’t,” he hissed, tugging at my hair. “Don’t make me come. I want to come with you—fuck, Hannah, f**k … suck me…”

I savored his desperation, along with his indecision. One moment he was trying to guide my mouth off his sex, the next he was trying to push it deeper. Swearing. Snarling my name. His head thrown back or pitched forward, eyes glued to me.

“Come on,” he rasped. “No, no. Hannah…”

And I won’t lie; it drove me just as wild. The way Matt felt in my mouth and the way he begged for me—it was pure need, raw honesty.

I drew back, licked my lips, and leaned against the slope of the tub. I spread my legs and Matt sank over me, lowering his gorgeous body into the water. Into me. His eyes were stormy.

I felt every inch of his invasion.

The bullet at the top of the ring hit my cl*t and I gasped, digging my nails into Matt’s back. “Fuck!” I cried.

“Yeah?” Matt’s voice curled with delight. “I know, I know.”

He didn’t move; he simply pinned me against the tub with his c**k buried in me and the ring vibrating against my clit. Before long, I was writhing under him.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I know you can come like this. Come for me.”

My coiled pleasure released in a rush and I groaned. My back bowed. My sex squeezed and milked Matt’s length, and only then did he begin to move.

The bathwater seesawed in the tub. Matt f**ked me single-mindedly, oblivious even when a splash extinguished a candle. My pu**y, he kept telling me, was tight, so f**king tight, and he loved to f**k it, he wanted to come in it, and how did I like to feel his cum?

He groaned and pressed his face into my neck as he came. Whatever crossed his features in the throes of bliss, he hid.

Afterward, we bathed one another. Matt was sedate. He lathered shampoo into my hair, smoothed body wash over my skin, and rinsed me clean. We kissed and didn’t speak. We’d created a sanctuary—in the bathtub, in the cabin—and I felt such peace.

Matt blew out the rest of the candles and turned on the light. We dried one another, smiling faintly whenever our eyes met. Then—for the first time, though I don’t know how I missed it last night—I caught sight of the white-pink scar on his calf. I knelt and brushed the towel over it.

“Baby,” I whispered.

I could see where the cat’s teeth punctured his flesh, four large spots with smaller splotches around them. I covered my mouth.

“Let me see your wrist,” I said. “Let me see it.”

“Hannah, stop. It’s nothing.”

“No.” I caught his hand. I scanned his arm until I found a pink bar on the inside of his forearm and another over his wrist. I stared at the scars.

“They don’t hurt. Stop this. We’re happy. Everything is working out.” Matt lifted my chin. The confidence in his voice was absent from his expression. His eyes were haunted. And no wonder …

Matt opened his mouth to say more—and then, from the kitchen, his cell began to ring.

Chapter 22

MATT

Hannah and I hovered over the phone. She looked afraid to touch it, her dark eyes so round. The silence between each ring was dead air. And then it stopped.

Mel, I prayed, don’t leave a message, don’t leave a message … please.

How could I have forgotten to tell Mel not to call this weekend? I bought the new phone on Thursday and sent her the number as soon as I got back to the cabin. Then, in my rush to prepare for Hannah’s visit, I completely forgot about Mel.

And here she was—Melanie, the stranger responsible for Night Owl’s publication—calling me while Hannah listened in horror.

My cell began to ring again. Fuck.

“What the hell?” Hannah whispered. She looked between me and the ringing cell. “Who has this number besides me?”

“No one,” I stammered. “No one, I swear. It’s got to be a wrong number.”

“What if … someone figured this out? I’m answering it.”

“No!” I grabbed the phone.

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. There. For the first time since she arrived, I saw suspicion flash across her face.

I eased the TracFone back onto the counter.

Its loud, persistent ring was the sound of panic.

“Why answer it?” I said. “I mean, there’s no point.”

“Matt, we have to know who it is. And you can’t answer it. I’m answering it.”

Before I could stop her, Hannah flipped open my cell and brought it to her ear.

“Hello?” she said.

My heart thudded into a thin, fast rhythm. I could do nothing but stare and strain to hear. No voice came from the phone. Or maybe it did and I missed it. My ears were ringing.

“Hello?” Hannah demanded. “Who is this? Hello?”

Her face fell. She glared at the phone, then snapped it shut. Her hand was shaking.

“They hung up,” she said. “They didn’t say anything.”

Another muffled ringtone sounded.

This time, it was Hannah’s phone.

She frowned and opened her purse, digging out her phone and peering at it.

“Shit, it’s Nate.”

“Oh, of course.” I threw up a hand.

“I have to answer this.”

“Do you, now?” I folded my arms and regarded Hannah carefully. Why did she have to answer a call from Nate?

“It looks weird if I don’t, okay? Let me handle this.” She took the call and walked off a few feet. I followed her like a vulture, looming at her shoulder.

“Nate? Hey. No, it’s fine.” She paused. “No, out at Kevin’s cabin. Yeah. Yeah, I needed to get away. He said I could stay here.” Another pause. “He really is, yeah.”

I leaned in, but I couldn’t catch Nate’s voice.

Hannah glared and twisted away from me. Then something changed in her expression. Her hesitant smile fell and her dark brows drew together.

“What?” She walked toward the deck. She was silent for a minute. “I see. I see. I don’t know anything about that.” Her shoulders hunched as she listened. “No,” she said. “I realize that. It’s really weird, but I—yes, believe me.”

Hannah’s one-sided conversation continued to make no sense. While her back was to me, I shut off my new cell.

“All right. I will, Nate. I’m sorry. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”

She ended the call and lowered her phone. She took her time turning to face me. She tightened the towel around her bust and returned the phone to her purse.

“Nate,” she said.

“Mm.”

Hannah’s guarded expression worried me, along with her slow and careful motions.

“It seems like…” She looked through her purse. “It seems like Night Owl has been removed from the Internet. All the places selling the e-book have discontinued it.”

I looked down at the countertop. Too late … the slow-dawning realization of how suspicious this looked. Hannah told me about the lawsuit last weekend. Within days, Night Owl disappeared from the Internet.

I wasn’t clever at all. Not at all. I was the world’s biggest f**king idiot.

“Wow,” I managed.

“Yeah, wow.” She continued to go through her purse, and when I looked at her hands, I saw that she wasn’t really searching for anything. She mechanically raised and replaced items. Lip gloss. Her keys. A coin purse. A pill holder.

I grasped her wrist. Her hands jerked to a stop.

“Did you?” she said. Her meaning was clear. Did you publish it?

I shook my head.

“Matt, you could have told me if you did. You can tell me. I won’t be upset, just—”

“I didn’t turn Night Owl into an e-book,” I snapped. That, at least, was true.

I turned away from Hannah and dragged a hand through my wet hair.

“I’m sorry, but I had to ask,” she said. “Do you get how weird this is? It makes no sense. I told you about the lawsuit, and the only other people who know are Seth and Nate … and Shapiro, obviously. And me. That’s it.” Her voice faltered as she worked through the logic.

“I know.”

“Like … what are the odds, I mean … it’s as if the person who published it knew. About the lawsuit. To suddenly pull the title off the Internet—”

“Coincidence,” I said. “It has to be a coincidence.”

“I guess. I know you didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell anyone but you.”

I moved away from Hannah, heading toward the couch and the broad western windows. A run through the woods would clear my head. That, or a swim in some half-frozen lake. Something painful and rigorous.

“Nate is seriously pissed,” Hannah persisted. She gnawed at a nail as she spoke. “At first, he was basically accusing me. You know, they all think I wrote it, and now—”

“You?” I laughed. “Please.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t write. I don’t get why they’d think you wrote it.”

“Uh, okay. I actually do write, just FYI. You remember how we met on a writing forum? But anyway … yeah, this is looking pretty bad for me.” Hannah laughed, the sound as bitter as mine. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. It’s not like they can prove I wrote it, since I didn’t.”

“Mm.”

Soft snow began to fall, slanting across the sky. It was hard to believe that a moment ago Hannah and I stood in the bathroom together, feeling so content.

No trace of that harmony remained.

“And Nate still plans to pursue the lawsuit,” Hannah said.

“Mm.”

“I’m glad you’re so concerned.”

“Hannah…” I rubbed my face. In the wake of strong emotion, I always feel void.

“Look, if it comes down to it, why don’t I just tell them you wrote it?”

“What?” I turned.

“Yeah. The truth, Matt. I’ll say that you wrote it, and that I have no idea how it got online. I’ll tell them you always e-mailed your stuff to yourself, and that maybe someone hacked your e-mail. You know, it would feel good to tell the truth for once.”

No kidding.

“No,” I said flatly. “No, I—”

“Matt, please. Let me say that. Nate will probably drop the lawsuit, and if he doesn’t, who cares? Let him sue the ass**le who hacked your e-mail and put the book online. I know the book is embarrassing, trust me, but you don’t have to save face. You’re dead, remember? You’re never going to—”

“Stop it!” My voice echoed off the cabin walls. Hannah jumped about an inch in the air. “Please, just … stop it. I can’t—” I unclenched my hands. I can’t let Nate sue the person who put the book up for sale. I can’t let a stranger take a fall for me. Besides, would Melanie even take that fall? No, she’d roll over on me in a heartbeat. “I can’t think about this right now.”