The Young & the Sinner: An Age-Gap Romance (The Entangled Past Series)

by V. T. Do

  I liked it. It didn’t intimidate me as much as his previous place. I was hoping Mason picked this one because he wanted to be closer to me, since it was a little further for him to commute to work. I wanted to ask him if that was the reason, but I didn’t want to come off as conceited.

  On moving day, we all pitched in to help, but it was Mason and Max who did most of the work.

  Mason didn’t want me to carry anything heavy, because, apparently, he thought I was breakable. I didn’t want Lizzie to carry anything heavy, because I still didn’t know much about pregnancy, and I didn’t know what she could and couldn’t do carrying a baby. Max seemed oblivious to it all. If he thought it was weird how Mason treated me, or how I treated Lizzie, he didn’t say.

  Overall, we managed to move all of Mason’s things to his new apartment before nightfall. It was a pretty good day. And even though I was sweaty and had barely brushed my hair that morning, I liked the way Mason would sometime sneak in glances at me when Lizzie or Max wasn’t looking.

  Mason ordered pizza for dinner that night, and the four of us sat on the floor, watching a movie from his laptop. We huddled close to watch the tiny screen, with Lizzie and me in the middle, and Mason next to me.

  Our eyes met several times throughout the movie, and at one point, when all the food was gone, Mason wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. I looked over to Max, who was on Lizzie’s other side, but he was paying attention to the movie. And since I was feeling daring, I rested my head on his shoulder.

  Mason kissed my head quietly, and I let out a small sigh, feeling more content than I had ever remembered feeling.

  The movie continued to play, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore. I was focused on my thoughts of Mason and our future, and I realized we had to tell Max eventually. I didn’t want to sneak around with Mason forever.

  I wanted a future with him.

  Lizzie told Sam about her pregnancy at the beginning of the week. He took the news well. He told her he would support her however she needed. She seemed lighter after. I knew she was stressed about telling him, and now that it was done and over with, she would find the courage to tell her parents as well.

  She would be telling them on Wednesday after school, when her dad was off from the restaurant, and when her mom sometimes came home early from work to hang out with her dad.

  She was nervous, but her parents were good parents. They truly loved Lizzie and wanted only the best for her. Even still, she was nervous about the prospect, and there was nothing I could do or say to make her feel better.

  I spent Tuesday afternoon at Mason’s apartment with him. To get the “official” tour, he said, when his decorator finally finished furnishing his home. I didn’t even know he had a decorator. But that was exactly what he told me over the phone, and he sounded so excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell him how weird I thought having a decorator was.

  Rich people were a funny breed.

  When I drove straight to his apartment after school, Mason was already there waiting for me. I had to refrain myself from jumping up and down in excitement. I was still trying to convince Mason I was so much more than my age. That, even as young as I was, we could fit, somehow, some way.

  He was still in his work clothes, his blue tie—that I thought did wonder for his skin tone—was pulled loosely around his collar, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. I liked this look on him. There was just something about being greeted by a man after he clearly had a productive day at work that got me all hot and bothered. He also had a five o’clock shadow, and he looked downright sexy.

  Mason held the door open for me, and I walked into an apartment with no personality. It was nice enough, but it didn’t say anything about Mason. A black leather sofa took up the majority of the living room, as did a big flat screen TV, and there were random knickknacks on the wooden mantle above the fireplace. But they were not things I thought Mason would pick out for himself.

  “Do you want something to drink?” he asked.

  “Water would be good,” I said, my throat suddenly feeling parched.

  I watched him in the kitchen, loving the way he moved. There wasn’t a single awkward thing about Mason. And I loved it. Self-confidence was sexy. I didn’t realize how attractive it was until Mason walked around with it like a second skin.

  I smiled when he came back, taking the glass of water out of his hand. He took a seat next to me on the couch, pulling me in close. “How was school, baby?”

  I shrugged. School was school. “It was good. We started auditions today, and we think we might have found our Cato.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Sounds like the play is coming together nicely.”

  I nodded, placed the glass of water on the coffee table, and snuggled in close to Mason’s body. He wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face closer into his chest. Who knew something so hard could be so comfortable?

  He played with my hair, and I closed my eyes, loving the way it felt. I let out a small moan of pleasure, and he paused his movement for a brief second, before picking it back up again.

  “This is nice,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He kissed the top of my head, and I smiled into his shirt.

  “Do you have a ton of homework, or do you want to watch a movie for a bit before I make us dinner?”

  “You’re cooking?” I asked.

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  I shook my head. “No. I just didn’t know you could.”

  “Ah, well, Max is the cook in the family. But I can make a decent plate of spaghetti.”

  “Oh, that’s my favorite.”

  He winked. “So I’ve heard.”

  “That sounds nice. I don’t really have anything due tomorrow, so homework can be put off for another day.”

  He nodded. “Movie and dinner, it is.”

  Mason put on a comedy. I wasn’t really paying attention. All I got from the movie was that the lead was played by a medium-build actor I had never seen or heard of before. I didn’t much care for it, not when Mason was sitting so close by, and not when we were finally alone for the first time in weeks without fear that Max might come home at any given minute.

  Being here with him was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

  By the time the credits rolled, I had missed the entire plot of the movie and the sky had darkened. I looked at Mason and I found a faraway look on his face. He obviously wasn’t paying attention to the movie either. I grabbed the remote and shut off the TV.

  Mason turned to me then. “Dinner?”

  I nodded, even if dinner was the last thing on my mind. There was this energy between us that I wanted to address. There had always been this energy between us, especially when we were alone, like a small hum or a noticeable silence before an explosion. But Mason was adamant that we took things slow, so we hadn’t done more than kiss and fondle each other in the dark. I thought it was because he was afraid of how I might react after the last time, when we tried to take things a little further. I didn’t blame him.

  I felt myself getting stronger every day, where thoughts about Lorenzo no longer had the same effect on me as they once did. It didn’t mean all my issues were resolved. It just meant I was more hopeful that his hold on me wouldn’t always be there. That I could be a normal human being who enjoyed sex as much as the next person, and dear Lord, I really wanted to enjoy them with him.

  He leaned down and kissed me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in close. I needed him closer. I would’ve burrowed myself inside him if I could.

  Mason deepened the kiss and I moaned. He was very good at kissing me. I couldn’t get enough. But then I felt him pull back and knew he would stop this before it went any further.

  “I should really start making dinner,” he said.

  I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. When he finally left to the kitchen, I sagged against the couch and let out a sigh. This was going nowhere.
Mason probably would wait until I was thirty to do anything more if he thought that was best for me.

  When I looked over at him the kitchen, his back was to me, and he was pulling out all the ingredients.

  “Do you want any help?” I called out.

  “No, Livie. That’s okay. Why don’t you relax a little?”

  He said it like I spent my day doing back-breaking work. I rolled my eyes and stood up. I could probably make garlic bread or something. I didn’t want to sit there doing nothing but twiddle with my thumbs.

  Mason’s back was still turned to me when I walked up. He tensed a little when I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

  He turned slightly and found my eyes. His gaze was dark and… hungry. I took a deep breath. I didn’t realize our kiss had affected him so much.

  “Yes, everything is okay. Why don’t you sit there while I prepare the food?” He pointed to the dining table adjacent to the kitchen. I shook my head.

  “I don’t want to.”

  I moved my hand down his back, loving the feel of his muscles tensing. He was so strong; he could easily break me. And I had never felt safer than I did then.

  He let out a deep breath. “You need walk away, Olivia, before I do something we’d both regret.”

  “You think I would regret it? That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

  “Baby, you’re playing a dangerous game. My self-control is tenuous at best.”

  I smiled. “Good.”

  Then I went up on my tiptoes and kissed him. I poured everything into the kiss, trying to tell him with my actions how I really felt about him wanting to take things slow.

  I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this without freaking out or getting lost in my own head.

  Mason stood as still as a statue, doing nothing more than grip the counter, as if to prevent himself from touching me. Maybe because he knew once he did, it would be game over.

  And about ten seconds later, he lost.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me to his body. I gasped, and he took advantage of it to deepen our kiss, our teeth clashing against one another. He moved us so that I was against the counter, and he was in front of me, his body close to mine.

  Mason broke away from the kiss, his lips swollen, his eyes hooded. We were both breathing hard, and I knew I looked the same way.

  He never broke contact as he moved his hand down to my backside, giving it a decisive squeeze before moving back up again, inside my shirt.

  I felt his rough hand on my stomach before reaching my waist, one hand on either side. I grew aroused just thinking about where he was heading next.

  “Mason.”

  “Shh. I’m just going to touch. That’s all. I’ll make you feel good.”

  I swallowed loudly, the noise noticeable in the quiet room. His hands moved up, and he cupped my breasts. I gasped, though didn’t move away. I stayed where I was, looking down.

  One hand moved to my back and he unbuckled my bra. I let out a stuttering breath when he moved again to the front of me. Then he grabbed my tits and I groaned. I could see movements inside my shirt as he played with me, weighing each globe in his hand before his fingers found my nipples and plucked at them.

  “Oh, God,” I said when I felt the movement all the way down to my groin. I was wet. It wouldn’t take much before I came.

  But then he moved his hand again, and I was going to beg him to move it back until I realized where he was heading.

  “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

  My cheeks flushed as I did what he asked. He pulled his hand out from under my shirt and cupped me between my legs. They nearly buckled out from underneath me in response. And even though my jeans were in the way, the warmth of his hand there was enough to drive me insane.

  “Mason, please,” I begged. I wanted to feel him touch me without the barriers of clothing in the way.

  “You’re so sensitive to my touch,” he gritted out, his eyes nearly dark. “Tell me how far I can take this. Tell me this is okay, Olivia.”

  He squeezed me harder with each word, and my sex clenched, trying to find just the right pressure to push me off the edge.

  I closed my eyes and nodded. This was okay.

  “Baby, open your eyes. I need you tell me. Remember, you’re in control here. Whatever we do or don’t do is up to you. Got it?”

  “I thought you were in control,” I teased.

  He growled. “I’m in control when you give me your consent. But only if you give it to me. Understand?”

  “Y-yes,” I stuttered. I was in control. “This is okay. I…”

  “Yes?”

  “I like it.”

  He nodded, and male satisfaction reflected in those bottomless depth of his eyes. I wanted to lose myself to him. And he made it so easy to want such a thing.

  Mason kissed my cheek then, his stubble tickling my skin a little. I wanted to kiss his lips, but he moved away to bend down in front of me. My eyes widened, seeing where he was going. He moved slowly, as if he was giving me the chance to say no. I would never say no to him again.

  I nodded, and his movements grew bold. He unbuckled my jeans and pulled down the zipper, the noise deafening in the silent room. My stomach clenched. And then he pulled down my jeans and my panties, baring me to his gaze.

  “Beautiful,” he said, running a single finger up and down the lips of my sex. He stilled his finger at the top of my opening, where my clit was. I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Is this okay?”

  I started to nod, only to remember what he said about needing me to be vocal. “Yes, Mason.”

  His eyes flared when I said his name, and I had never felt more powerful. Here was one of the strongest men I knew, and he was kneeling down in front of me, looking up at me like I was goddess he wanted to spend the rest of his life worshipping.

  He bunched up the hem of my shirt and pulled it midway up my stomach. “Hold this up for me, baby.”

  Oh. He wanted me to bare even more of myself to him. It was getting hard to swallow as I did as he asked, giving him an unobstructed view of me. I leaned back against the counter and watched as Mason moved his finger back and forth, gathering my wetness and moving it around my sex.

  My fist clenched around the fabric of my shirt, wrinkling it.

  He moved his hand until he cupped me. I closed my eyes when he squeezed, somewhat roughly.

  “Mason.” I wasn’t capable of anything more than his name.

  He looked up at me, his eyes hooded with want. I was sure my expression mirrored his.

  My heart pounded so fast against my ribcage when he moved in close, I was afraid it might burst out of my chest at any given second.

  Then he leaned forward and licked me.

  “Mason, please.” I wasn’t sure what it was that I was asking, only that I needed him more than I needed to breathe in that moment.

  He winked and my thighs clenched.

  He licked me again, and I wanted to explode from his touch.

  I moved back, the sensation of his tongue and his touch so foreign to me. I couldn’t believe I was feeling the way I felt.

  Mason grabbed my hips to keep me in place as he went on doing to me as he wished, while I tried to get used to his mouth on my sex.

  He covered the entire mound with his mouth before he used his fingers to separate the lips, but never entering me. His tongue played with me before he pulled the pounding flesh between his teeth, relentless and so fucking hot. All I could do was stand there and try not to make so many loud noises.

  He grabbed one leg and hooked it on his large shoulder, baring me even more to his gaze. It was funny, he was the one on the floor in front me, but I was the one defenseless, completely at his mercy.

  He licked me again, with the flat of his tongue, from one entry point to the next. I flinched and Mason gripped my hip harshly. I was sure he would leave his ma
rk there.

  “Hold still for me,” he said.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. How did he expect me to hold still when he was touching me… there?

  In such a taboo and forbidden place. A place even I hadn’t explored fully.

  He moved his hand down to my butt cheeks, and separated them, as if he was angry with me. I felt air there and clenched the muscles in my thighs. It was no use. The fact that he hooked my leg on his shoulder meant I couldn’t move more than an inch.

  His fingers moved slowly as he explored me. I jumped when I felt his one finger intruding in my back end, and Mason looked up and met my eyes. Aside from his dark gaze, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He gathered up some of my wetness and smeared it there.

  “Are you with me?”

  “Yes, Mason. I’m with you.”

  “Good. And remember, you say stop, and we stop. No questions asked, and no anger. Okay, baby?” His voice softened at the end, and I wanted to reach for him.

  I said, “Okay,” instead, and leaned back against the counter.

  His movements were slow and torturous. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what I wanted.

  When the tip of his finger entered me, I leaned back against the counter, and tried to focus on my breathing. The he broke eye contact and moved forward, taking my mound in his mouth once more.

  I felt his tongue, then his teeth, and I closed my eyes, letting out a small whimper.

  It was too much. Much too much.

  His finger went in a little deeper, stretching me out, and the sensation was as foreign as it was erotic.

  “Mason.”

  He hummed with his mouth still on me. I felt the vibration all the way down to my toes. Then Mason moved his finger, and my eyes sprang open in surprise. “Oh, God.”

  He continued to eat me out, moving his finger, and all I could do was stand there and try not to fall.

  I bit my lip, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands, leaving their mark.

  And then…

  My leg muscles clamped tightly together as I tried to hold onto the orgasm for as long as I could. It was as if my body had been coiled tightly until I was forced to snap, and when I did, it was amazing, and beautiful, and chaotic all at once.