He’ll only live a few hours away. We can be friends over the internet.
But they wouldn’t be dating.
Do I want to be?
She wouldn’t mind. But what if it didn’t work out?
Then it was what it was. She couldn’t walk away from this because it might not last. It was fun now, aside from the arguments and they were getting better with those, and it wasn't damaging.
“You see yourself as Cher?” Mason’s question drew her from the rambling thoughts.
The credits were rolling. At least one of them watched. “Duh.”
“Nope. Can’t see it.”
“Really.” Her tone was flat, but she wasn’t annoyed. She was curious about his line of thought.
He shook his head. “You’re more like Tai. Perfect the way you are. Changing sometimes for the people around you, but overall realizing you’re happy liking what you like and falling for your skater boy.”
That was disturbingly insightful. She liked it. “I don’t know any skater boys.”
“I kick some serious ass at Tony Hawk Pro Skater 4.” Mason raised his hand.
Yeah, she needed to keep him in her life. At least as a friend. Maybe more. “I was thinking...” An unfamiliar doubt and shyness gripped her. What if he told her not with a stupid stripper. This was only temporary.
Then he did. But he wouldn’t say that.
“Thinking what?” Mason nudged.
“Are we friends?”
He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “I hope so.”
That helped. “If you want, you can stay here while you look for work. I know it’s a long hike down to L.A., but if you schedule things right, you can hit different parts of the state on different days for interviews, maybe wander up into Oregon, or over to Nevada as you need. Not that I think it’ll take you long to find something.”
Shit. What if it didn’t take long at all?
They weren’t moving in together. Not after knowing each other for less than a week. This was a temporary arrangement.
They could figure out the rest as it happened. For now, she’d get to keep him around.
“If you’re sure...” Mason said.
“You know I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
“Good point.”
She gestured toward the other half of the apartment. “Guest room is free...” Which meant he wouldn’t be sleeping in her bed. Two nights together and she already didn’t want to give it up. If she asked him to stay in her room instead, would that be a mistake? Did pushing him into the guest room send a message she didn’t want to?
When did friendship get so complicated? Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t date.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mason lay in bed staring at the shadows that danced across the ceiling. After sleeping most of his yesterday and today away, it was almost one in the morning and he was wide-awake.
He’d taken the room they both stayed in last night. Ginny said it already had his bedding, so that made the most sense.
He regretted the choice. The faint scent of her perfume clung to the sheets. It was a subtle but tempting reminder that the wall between them might as well be a canyon.
The shapes above him changed, and he heard the shuffle of feet on carpet.
He sat up to find Ginny standing in the doorway.
“I can’t sleep.” She wore a panties and a fitted T-shirt. With the light from outside casting half of her in silhouette, she was at least as sexy as when she was naked.
He shifted to one side and patted the blanket. “Me neither.”
Instead of climbing into bed next to him, she knelt on the mattress and crawled forward. The brush of her knees against the outside of his legs sent heat rushing through him.
She tapped his chest playfully, and he fell onto his back. She straddled his hips. The heat and softness of her pussy pressed against his half-hard cock. The thin fabric of his boxers and her panties didn’t diminish the contact.
“We need something to wear us out.” She watched him with those bright green eyes, mischief dancing in her gaze.
“And this is your solution? I like the way you think.”
She rested her hands on the bed on either side of his head. “I knew it. You’re only keeping me around for my brain.”
This was fun. Simple. Seductive. Was it bad that he wanted to get used to it? He trailed his hands up her sides to cup her breasts.
Her soft moan and the flutter of her eyelids sent goosebumps racing over his skin.
“Your brain. Your body. Your heart. I’m keeping you around for all of you.” As he spoke, he dragged his thumbs over her nipples, teasing the hard nubs through fabric.
“You say the sweetest things.” Her reply was breathy. She rocked her hips in a steady rhythm, grinding against his erection.
“I’m being honest.”
“That’s why it’s sweet.”
He shoved her shirt up, and pulled her closer, to wrap his lips around one nipple. He alternated between licking, sucking, and nipping. He switched to the other side. Her groans grew louder, and she pressed harder into him.
He felt like a teenager again. Dry humping and thrilled to make it to third base. But this wasn’t just a frantic make-out session. He liked having Ginny close. Making her sigh and whimper. Tasting her.
Need built inside, until his head was light. He gripped her hips. “You need to stop.”
“Why?” She teased and rocked against him one more time.
A groan rumbled from his chest. “Because I’ll come in my boxers if you don’t.”
“Not seeing the problem.” Ginny shifted her hips again.
He liked the playfulness. That didn’t mean he’d let it go unchallenged. He glided his hands over her legs, to tease his thumbs under the crotch of her panties.
She was wet, and he slipped easily over her skin. When he brushed her clit, she gasped and arched her back, pressing into his touch.
The range of expressions that flashed across her face was intoxicating. He stroked her swollen button, sinking into her every sound and movement, until she was right on that edge of climax, then pulled back.
She focused a pout on him. “Meanie.”
Mason tangled his fingers in her hair, and leaned up enough to crush his mouth to hers. How was each kiss better than the last? He could play with her for days, exploring her body and trying every combination of buttons, to see what made her moan, whimper, and scream.
He didn’t have the patience for days, but he did want this to last longer than a few minutes. He nudged her a few inches back on his legs. “Lie on your back.”
GINNY HESITATED AT the request—command? It was a silly thing, but it felt like giving up control.
She trusted Mason, though. The voice asking do you, wasn’t there.
She swallowed the doubt caused by instinct, and rolled onto her back. When he straddled her legs, her heart jammed in her throat. Fuck, he was sexy. The perfect combination of kind and assured.
Ginny skated her palms up his arms, over his biceps, memorizing the corded muscle underneath. Technically she was trapped like this. Top bunched up under her arms. Panties soaked with desire. And no idea what Mason had in mind besides sex, probably. It was terrifying and exhilarating and delicious.
He brushed his lips over hers, then kissed down her collarbone to her breasts. He spent several minutes lavishing more attention on each one. Her nerve endings hummed, and the pulse between her legs was impossible to ignore.
But her only recourse was to squirm under his weight, and enjoy the drawn-out attention.
Her heart stalled when he pinned her arms over her head and met her gaze. “I could do this all night.”
“Or you could fuck me.” Foreplay was fun. Hell, she’d earned a living off nothing but for several years. Tonight, she wanted a conclusion.
“I could. And I will. Probably. Maybe.”
She tried to thrust her hips up, but they met empty air.
; He dipped his head lower, to brush his lips along the shell of her ear. “Soon.”
His whisper made her squirm more. How did he do that?
She wasn’t going to over-analyze it. She just wanted more. Of everything he was offering.
Mason let go of her hands as he kissed down her breastbone, to her stomach, and then along the top of her panties. He hooked his fingers in the elastic and dragged them down her legs.
When he licked along her slit, she gasped in anticipation. When he wrapped his mouth around her clit, she pressed into his face. When he slid two fingers inside her, pumping and teasing her G-spot, climax crashed around her. She cried out at the rush, and gripped his hair, holding him in place. She bucked against his attention until it was too much.
As she flattened against the mattress, he pulled away. She yanked his head to hers, kissing him hard. Tasting herself on his lips. Wanting to sink into his hunger.
“Now I can fuck you,” he murmured against her mouth.
She was out of words. It was a nice feeling. She worked a hand between them, and into his boxers, to stroke his shaft. He was hot and hard against her hand.
Habit wanted her to push him away. To ride him again.
But this was different. He was different. She was okay with give and take when it came to Mason.
“Are you clean?” she asked. “No STDs or anything?”
Understanding flickered in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Me too. Plus birth control. No condom?” It was a tiny test, both for her and him. She needed to let go of that thread of control, and she needed to see him trust her when she said she was disease free.
“Okay.” There was no hesitation in his reply. He kicked his boxers off, and nudged her thighs apart with his knee.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he fisted his cock and nudged her opening. Everything about him was the perfect contradiction. Strength and tenderness. Confidence and doubt. Kindness without being a pushover.
He thrust inside her, spreading her out, and the analytical part of her mind faded into the background. She wanted to sink into these sensations. His legs rubbing against her thighs. The sound of his grunts. His scrunched up face each time he pounded against her.
She dragged her nails up his back, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. The moved in unison. As he increased the pace, she sank into him, letting him drive everything.
Mason gripped her thighs and pressed her knees to her chest. He struck inside at a new angle, deep and delicious. His grunts grew more shallow and his pace more frantic.
She clenched around him, milking him, enthralled by the changes in his expression as he neared climax. He came with a loud groan, still hammering.
As he slowed then stopped, the frantic atmosphere in the room evaporated, but an invisible blanket still wrapped around them. They could be the only two people in the world right now, for all she could tell.
He dipped forward to kiss her again. This was soft and drawn out. Intensity burned through his lips into hers.
Mason rolled to one side, and Ginny curled up next to him, head on his arm, hand on his chest. They should clean up, but right now all she wanted to do was stay here and feel him.
“Do you think you can sleep now?” His soft question wove into the stillness rather than shattering it.
“Only if I can stay here.”
He trailed his fingers through her hair. How was that so comforting?
It didn’t matter. All she cared about was that it was. It felt right. Everything about this did.
“Always,” Mason said.
Always was a long time, and Ginny wasn’t going to argue with it even for an instant.
She’d be terrified tomorrow at how attached she was getting to Mason. Tonight, she was going to lose herself in him, with no regrets.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ginny was used to spending her work day on her feet, but residency was a completely different league from the bar. The people she saw in the emergency room weren’t always struggling more with their psychological health than her stripper customers had been, but that was frequently the case.
And the atmosphere in the hospital didn’t exactly foster ease and calmness.
She’d been doing the job for a week, and the number of grope attempts was still lower than a single night at her old job, so that was a plus. She also liked seeing the relief spread across people’s faces as they were able to talk to someone, and relaxed.
The ones that were hardest were the people who had so much going on in their heads that a half-hour chat with the hospital therapist only put them further on edge.
She hated turning those people away. She wanted to spend hours letting them unwind. Let them know they were heard. Give them a safe haven for the day, even if they didn’t have that anywhere else.
The woman today, whose boyfriend was manipulating and gaslighting her, wasn’t as withdrawn as some, but Ginny still wanted to find the man and shake some sense into him.
The woman came in thinking she was having a heart attack. Instead, it was a panic attack brought on by one of many arguments with her live-in guy. He wanted to go on a weekend hiking trip with a female colleague—just the two of them.
The girlfriend was jealous, and the boyfriend insisted if she wasn’t so insecure and needy, she wouldn’t have an issue with his friends.
Ginny was still furious with the guy.
As she walked up to her apartment, she was looking forward to a night of putting her sore feet up, and chilling with Mason.
She was surprised to find him with the in-apartment ironing board out, pressing a while button-down.
He looked up and grinned when he saw her. “Hey. How was work?”
“Exhausting.” But coming home to his smile helped push that aside. “Do you have an interview?” She nodded at the shirt.
His expression drooped. He’d been sending out resumes and making phone calls since they arrived, and she saw the lack of response wearing on him. “No. But I talked to a headhunter today who may have the perfect opening. This,” he gestured to the clothes, “is because the wedding is on Friday, and I figured I’d get my suit ready now.”
The bottom fell out of Ginny’s calm. “Oh.” The wedding. With the ex-girlfriend who he didn’t love, he just wanted to know why she didn’t love him.
Of course he was still going. Why did she assume otherwise? Because their fucking was punctuated with playing house? That didn’t make her anymore girl-next-door than when they met.
“You’re going with me, right?” Mason cringed. “Stupid of me, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Will you be my date for the wedding?”
And he didn’t even see why Ginny was upset. After all they’d talked about. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Because she’s your ex-girlfriend and I’ve already told you exactly how I feel about this, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. She wasn’t the woman from the emergency room, because Mason wasn’t her boyfriend. “We’re getting our longer-term schedules at work in the next couple of days. There are rumors I’ll be on graveyards, and I don’t feel comfortable asking for a night off so early in the job.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Good story. Now tell me the real reason.”
“That is the real reason. Maybe have a little more respect for what I do.” The words came out with an edge, and she couldn’t take them back.
“Fine. My apologies.” His scowl matched the cloud growing inside her.
Why couldn’t she just answer his question?
Because she didn’t have a right to be pissed off at him. His life, his decisions, and he wasn’t even being unreasonable.
None of that helped her feel better. Instead, guilt mingled with anger, because she hated the idea of him going, and hated herself for the reaction.
WHEN MASON WOKE UP, Ginny was already gone. Her bed showed no signs of being slept in, despite the fact that she headed into her room last nig
ht with a soft “I think we should sleep in our own beds.”
He’d told her Trina didn’t matter. Even now, thinking about it, it was true. Sure, he didn’t think through the whole attending the wedding thing. It was on his schedule, and he didn’t think twice about going until he saw Ginny’s expression.
He could back out. Now he wanted to rescind his RSVP. Except that for all the shit Ginny put him through about being honest and speaking one’s mind, it gnawed at him that this was the thing she chose to be passive-aggressive about.
Mason tried to ignore the irritation that danced inside with indecision. He could call Ginny on her behavior. He could email Trina and cancel first. He could say fuck it, and go anyway, which really didn’t seem like a great response.
And none of that helped him focus on his job search.
His phone rang, and he jumped. He’d been staring at nothing for three hours? Wonderful.
Trina’s name was on the screen, as if his mangled thoughts had summoned her. He swiped Answer. “Hey.”
“Hey, stranger. It’s been ages. How’ve you been?”
He expected a pang at the familiar voice and her cheerful greeting. There should be a fist around his heart, telling him he missed her more than he was willing to admit. He smiled at her friendliness, but there was no longing. “Not too bad. You? Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks. I saw you’re coming to the wedding. It’ll be good to see you again.”
This was his chance to say now that you mention it... but nagging spite stuck the words in his throat. “Yeah. Same here.”
“You’re probably busy, so I won’t keep you,” she said. “Thing is, I heard through a friend, who heard from a headhunter, that you might be looking for work. Are you still interested in corporate training?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t ignore the twinkle of hope inside. Please let this be more than polite conversation. Then again, why would she call him just to chat? They hadn’t spoken since he left Malibu more than a year ago.
“Are you staying at this San Francisco address on your resume?”
Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4) Page 12