“I need it all off again,” Mason tugs on the top of his hair, it’s hardly an inch but he likes to keep it short, what with him being a man in uniform, aka in the armed forces. “Nobody gets that fade right like you do, Loryn.”
She smiles brightly and pats a clean chair.
“Are you going bald, Unky Mason?” Amelia asks.
“Pretty much.” He smiles at the little girl who is in the chair beside him and my heart swoons. “You too?”
“No, but Mommy said I can dye my hair pink if I’m good.”
We all still when we realize exactly what the little girl just said. Something she has never said before. She called Loryn Mommy.
My eyes tear up as Loryn’s equally tear-glistening eyes come to mine. She turns away to compose herself.
This is huge for her. She’s never asked Amelia to call her Mommy despite taking on that role with her entire heart. Lucas has never pushed it either, to be honest I’m not sure at all how he’ll feel about it. They’re both trying to stay respectful of Crystal’s memory.
“Breathe,” I tell Loryn who wipes under her eyes and then turns back to the little girl. She kisses the top of her golden hair and unties the cover from around her little body.
Amelia jumps up and spins in the mirror. “I love my hair.”
“Good.” Loryn smiles and gives her a gentle push toward the corner that has toys in it. “Keep busy while I do Unky Mason’s hair.”
“Okay.” She skips to the corner with all the dolls and children’s books. A nice little corner to keep the kids quiet as their parents get their hair done.
“Right,” Loryn says breathily, her tone still full of emotion. She flings a new, clean cover around Mason’s chest and ties it delicately at his neck and gets out the clippers as Toby starts sweeping the floor around us all.
Mason’s eyes meet mine in the mirror and he winks. The kind of wink that could drop panties in a second. I’m almost tempted. My fingers are twitching.
“How’ve you been, Summer?” he asks casually as I try not to fall deep into his gray-eyed gaze.
“Keeping busy. You?”
“Same.”
He wets his perfect lips. “What are you doing now?”
I shrug. “Other than this? Nothing.”
“Coffee?”
I hesitate. “With you?”
His moist lips stretch showing his perfect teeth. The smile is suggestive at the very least. It sends a tingle down my spine.
Gulp. “Alone?”
“Unless that’s a problem?” He chuckles, still smiling, his gray eyes daring me to say yes, and oh how badly I want to.
I look at Loryn who is carefully avoiding my eyes. Bitch. She’s supposed to be my support right now!
I can’t find an excuse to say no, and truth be told, I don’t want to. “Sure, why not?”
“Exactly,” he rumbles, and I swear it goes straight to my lady garden. “Loryn, time is of the essence. Cut my hair before she changes her mind.”
I giggle like a besotted schoolgirl and snort when Toby fans his face with his hand as he looks at the man I’ve bedded.
“Didn’t you come with Jacob?” I ask him once my brain starts working again. It’s unfair that I like him this much, my attraction to him is seriously messing with my head.
“Jacob won’t mind.”
“They’re too busy to mind,” Loryn adds and a loud bang sounds from the studio making Loryn roll her eyes and me pinch my lips together with a smile.
Mason looks downright sick. “Every time I see them together all I can think about is catching them at it on Christmas Day.”
“Poor baby,” I coo.
He flips me off and even that has me thinking about what he can do with his hands.
Loryn really needs to hurry up and finish his hair.
The groan of disappointment from the waiting paparazzi is comical when we exit the salon. They collectively inhaled air ready to ask their questions but all blew out the breath when they saw no evidence of Jacob.
Dipshits.
“I envy them,” I tell Mason as we reach the corner out of earshot.
“Who? The paparazzi?”
“Yeah, to be that free of morals and guilt.”
I smile up at him. “Your work getting you down?”
His eyes cloud over with something akin to sorrow and hatred. “You have no idea.”
“If you ever want to talk about it…”
“And burden you with that shit? Not a chance.” He takes my hand in his and smiles, pushing away the negative energy that was just zapping all life from him moments ago. I don’t mind holding his hand but it does make me feel a little guilty. Guilty that his hand is so large it essentially covers the entirety of mine and I really like it. Guilty that I can remember his hand palming my breast as his lips sucked on the skin below my ear.
“It wouldn’t be a burden,” I croak, my voice throaty and hoarse.
“So, how is the job hunting going?”
I shrug. “Not great, I haven’t heard back from anywhere yet.”
“You will, don’t worry.”
He’s so optimistic. We share a smile and I blush again at how handsome he is. He really is so good looking, but then so is Marie so it’s not surprising. “Where are we headed?”
“There’s a café somewhere around here.” He frowns, scratching his smooth jaw.
“That one?” I point to a green awning.
He shakes his head. “Nah, their coffee tastes like ass.”
“Eaten a lot of ass, have you?”
WHY DID I SAY THAT?
“None that taste quite as bad as their coffee.” His twinkling eyes meet mine. “You look stunning, Summer. I love this color on you.”
I melt and twirl my hair around my finger. “It’s my natural color. Kind of. Maybe a little more vibrant.”
“It’s your best color yet.”
“Thanks, Mase,” I mumble, pursing my lips as I try not to smile like a giddy child that received a gold sticker for good behavior. “So, when are you back out doing the stuff you’re not allowed to talk about?”
“Two months roughly, I’ll be gone for three months and then I’ll be back for the rest of the year hopefully.”
“That’s awesome, sad, then awesome again.”
He nods his agreement. “Means I’ll be home for Christmas again.”
“Marie is gonna flip.”
“Yeah.” His smile is fond and warm until he turns his head and points. “That’s the place.”
We both look ahead, past the bustle of people on the busy street.
“Donut Dunkerz?” I mutter and then laugh my ass off. “That’s not a café.”
“It does coffee so I’m inclined to disagree.” Oh man, his accent makes me want to wet myself. It’s so hot. Slightly more Southern than Marie’s. He pushes open the door and I step inside, only to be instantly assaulted by the sticky-sweet tang in the air and the smell of freshly fried donuts. “Sit, peruse the menu with those gorgeous green eyes of yours, and let me do the rest.”
I take the laminated menu he hands to me, a smile plastered on my face. “I’ll have a donut salad.”
“A donut salad?” He snatches the menu from me and tries to find it.
Of course it doesn’t exist. “Totally fushking with you, dude.”
“Fushking?”
“Fucking,” I explain, “the polite version.”
“There’s a polite version of fucking?” His gray eyes darken, his pupils expand, and his foot slides up my shin under the table. “Care to demonstrate?”
A shiver climbs up my spine and through my arms, causing goose bumps to break out across the surface of my skin.
“Don’t,” I plead, whispering.
“Why not?”
“I can’t resist you.”
His smile grows and he looks down at the menu as though unable to hold my eyes. Do I affect him as much as he affects me? “Decide what you want so we can get out of here.”
�
��Get out of here?”
We look at each other and my womb clenches. I know exactly what he means and I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
“Just grab a box to go,” I insist, standing. “We can get coffee later.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the counter. Well, he more pulls me than leads me. His excitement has me giggling. “Random dozen.”
“Quickly,” I say as he taps his card on the shiny surface.
Before I change my mind.
It has been so long since I had orgasmic sex or masturbated, or anything really. My entire body is humming with the possibility of lying with the man of my dreams again. I just hope I don’t get performance anxiety now that I’m sober. Last time we definitely were not sober.
She passes us our box moments later and he takes it with one hand, using the other to pull me behind him. We flag down a yellow cab and dive inside. I hold the box on my lap when he barks out his address and the cabby guy pulls out.
As soon as the car starts moving, Mason takes the box from my lap and pulls my head to his. Our lips meet, I squeak, startled by the suddenness of it, and then moan when his large, strong hand grips my inner thigh.
His tongue dives past my lips to meet my own. He tastes like I remember. Like sin. Forbidden, sweet sin.
“Mason,” I whisper as he kisses a path down my neck.
I grip his T-shirt, keeping him close as his lips explore my neck. I can hardly breathe I feel so sensitive.
“Hey, you guys,” the cabby barks but there’s amusement in his tone. “Really? Must you?”
“Eyes forward, pal,” Mason orders and goes right back to kissing me. I’ve never been so possessed by a kiss before. He just dominates. It comes naturally to him.
The cabby chuckles and we finally separate, both of us breathless.
I press my hand to his bulge and his eyes flare.
“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, Summer,” he breathes, his forehead against mine.
“Me neither, Mase,” I reply, feeling guilty but not guilty enough to stop.
The cabby finally pulls up outside of Mason’s apartment, Marie’s old place. He throws a couple of twenties through the hole in the plastic divider and drags me out by my bicep making me laugh.
We don’t even make it through the door before he’s kissing me again.
I groan when we finally make it inside and he rips my top over my head. I do the same to his and palm his muscles. His chest is huge, each pec bigger than my hand. Fushking hell, I’m in man-meat heaven.
He has a tattoo of an eagle on his chest, ready to strike with its claws extended, a faded American flag in the background. Very patriotic and sexy. I vaguely remember painting every line of this with my tongue the night we fucked.
We work on each other’s pants as I dip my head to suck on his pierced nipple. He loves it, he hisses through his teeth and any performance anxiety I had before doesn’t return. I remember his body from that night, remember how loudly he cried my name and I know exactly how to get him to do it again.
With my pants abandoned I jump up his body and he catches me so easily. I feel tiny in his arms as he walks us to his room, stumbling on his own pants on the way.
We laugh but it’s lost the second my back is planted on the mattress and his head is between my thighs. Of course, I’m a little insecure about this because it’s not something Chris does and when he does do it it’s because I’ve begged him to and then it’s a half-assed performance.
I grab his hair, ready to tell him it’s okay, I don’t need it, but then he licks… it… slow.
“OH GOD!” I scream, taken by surprise. The instant searing pleasure has me not caring about my inhibitions in the slightest. I don’t want him to stop ever again. “FUCK YES! MASON!”
He chuckles against me, sounding smug and I do not care at all. It feels incredible. I don’t know if it’s because I’m extra sensitive due to not having played with myself for a while, or if it’s just what he does to me, but I am so close to coming and we’ve barely even started.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, squeezing his head with my thighs.
His fingers curl inside of me at the first knuckle, just two of them, but it’s enough.
I grip his hair and buck against his face with wild abandon as an orgasm shatters me so hard I don’t breathe for a good thirty seconds.
My throat feels hoarse as I cry out his name and beg him to keep going.
When I finally come down and he climbs up my body, I lie flat beneath him, splayed open, clammy, and reeling. “How did you do that?”
He kisses my lips, smiling with the same smug grin he ate me out with and then he hooks my thigh up and thrusts inside my still pulsing sex.
We both moan long and low.
“Don’t you want me to blow you first?” I ask as he starts thrusting, looking between us to watch himself disappear into my body. There’s something so erotic about that. He’s so big and thick. Seeing my body accommodate him is just so sexy. Listening to his moans as my body pleasures him… it’s insane. I’ll never recover from this.
“If you blow me, I’ll blow,” he mutters, sucking on my lip like he just sucked on my clit. “Sum, you feel incredible.”
I smile and push my hips us to meet his. Soon our words are lost in the sound of our slapping hips and whispered moans. It’s better than I remember.
His thrusts get more erratic, his breathing gets sharp and heavy. He’s almost there, fuck, so am I, but then I realize he’s unguarded.
“Tell me when you’re about to come,” I instruct, rolling him onto his back.
“Why?” he asks, gripping my hips and hissing through his teeth when I dig my fingers into his chest and start grinding my hips down onto him.
“You’re ungloved,” I say as I lean over him, squeezing my eyes shut as I work myself to another orgasm.
“Fuck, Summer, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s fine,” I pant. “So close. Hold it.”
“Nearly there,” he grits.
“Hold it,” I beg, rolling my hips, ignoring the ache in my arm that is propping me up by his head. “Hold it, just a few more… GOD!”
My orgasm hits wen Mason’s lips wrap around my nipple. His fingers pinch into my hips so hard I have a feeling I’ll be marked when we’re done.
“No, babe, now I’m gonna… it’s fuck… shit… off me, babe. NOW!”
I feel him pulse and quickly climb off him as he grips the base of his swollen, throbbing cock.
He chokes on a cry so I bend, kneeling beside him, and wrap my lips around the end of his cock. I can taste us both as he spills onto my tongue, bucking his hips up into my mouth.
My name is shouted, garbled and messy with his groans and his hand grips my hair so tight it pulls my scalp. I kind of like it though.
I swallow him, it’s not something I’m overly fond of but I’ll do it for him, shit, I’ll do anything for him if he never stops eating me out like that.
He yanks me up his chest and kisses my forehead.
“That was intense,” he breathes, pulling the covers over us both. “Especially that finale, never had somebody blow me at the end before.”
“Was it okay?”
“It was insane, came so hard, babe, my eyes are blurry.”
I giggle and kiss his pec. “Good.”
“You good? Was it okay for you?”
I nod. “Nobody does oral like you. Nobody.”
He rolls us onto our sides and separates my thighs with his. “Sorry I didn’t glove up. Is it gonna be an issue? I just assumed you were on something.”
“I was, I was on the pill but I haven’t been taking it since I left…”
I don’t say his name, not in this bed.
He kisses me again. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Pretty sure you got off in time.”
I peer at him as I pull the blanket up to my shoulder and trace the eagle’s beak with the tip of my finger. “Did this hurt?”
“It’s a manageable pain.”
I raise a brow and tilt my head back so he can see it, letting him know I don’t believe him. He grins and shuffles down so we’re eye to eye.
“Yeah, stung like a motherfucker,” he adds, chuckling.
“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but I’m too indecisive.”
He trails his fingers down my bare arm and to my thigh, pushing the blanket down a fraction as his hand moves beneath it. “You should get one right here. My name followed by ‘god in bed.’”
I slap his arm and laugh, pulling the blanket back up to my neck.
“Cold?” he asks softly.
When I nod he pushes his arm under my neck and holds me against his body. I close my eyes, tired, satisfied, safe, and spent.
“Let’s nap,” he suggests, and I do not need telling twice.
The after-sex high starts to wear off when I wake up and realize what I’ve done. The guilt hits me and I want to cry.
Mason is still asleep, I contemplate sneaking out but that wouldn’t be right.
I just hate the thought of hurting Chris anymore than I have, but we really are done. There’s no doubt in my mind anymore. If I’m craving the company of another man this much then there’s no going back. There’s no winning him back.
“What’s wrong?” Mason asks quietly, cupping my face with his hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“I don’t know… everything. Lying here with you while thinking about my failed marriage.”
His eyes soften with sympathy. “It can’t be easy; just know I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t think you owe me anything.” He rolls me onto my back and kisses my lips. “I’d like to get to know you better, maybe date a little?”
I blink, surprise stiffening my body beneath his. “You want to date me? Even after what I’ve done?”
“What you’ve done?”
“I cheated on my husband.”
He grins wryly. “I’m confident in my abilities to keep your mind off other men, besides, from what Marie has told me, Chris hasn’t been looking after you for a long time.”
I look away, hating that Chris’ name has even been said in this bed. “I’m sorry for bringing him into this. I shouldn’t have done that.”
A Little Bit of Guilt: Little Bits #5 Page 5