Mr. Right Now

by Kristina Knight

  “Neither. We should stay right here.” She leaned in to him, wishing she’d pulled the tee from his shoulders earlier. Wishing he would pull her own t-shirt and bra from her overheating skin.

  Mason placed tiny kisses down her neck, flirting with the V-neck of her shirt. Casey wanted more. Faster. Slowly she rocked against his erection and her tummy muscles clenched. Mason groaned deep in his throat.

  “Is there anything else I should know?” she asked as his hands locked her hips in place.

  “I have protection.” His hands moved to her legs, creeping under her skirt to skim over her upper thighs. “And not a damn thing,” he said gruffly.

  “Thank God,” she said, and lowered her mouth to his.

  In a quick move, his hands jumped from legs to belly, caressing the soft skin of her stomach. Casey drew her fingers from the back of his jaw to his chin; the exciting, cleanly-shaven man from check-in was gone. Replaced with a dangerous, scruffy mountain of sex on the chaise beneath her. He walked his fingers over her stomach to just below her breasts. They ached for his touch, but Mason seemed content to tease. To let his hands almost contact her lace-covered breasts and then retreat to her sides.

  Casey didn’t want delayed gratification. She wanted to disappear into the dark void of sex and feeling. She dropped her hands to his waistband, tugging his t-shirt up.

  Mason grinned against her lips and sat forward so she could draw the thin cotton over his shoulders.

  She dropped it on the deck and took a moment to look at him.

  His chest was tanned and strong, giving her the impression that he worked outside, shirtless. A lot. Construction, maybe? God have mercy on the women in his neighborhood. A light layer of hair trailed in a V from his pecs to disappear in a point below the waistband of his jeans. Like a treasure map. She chuckled.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking how many times a pirate and his lady may have done this on the deck of a ship in the middle of the Caribbean.”

  “You are an odd woman.”

  She watched him from under her lashes for a moment. “And you’re a little bit of a pirate. Kissing me in the elevator. Seducing me away from my room.”

  His stomach muscles bunched as she raked her fingernails over his heated skin.

  “Personally, I’ve always thought of myself as a privateer,” he said and easily flipped her onto her back, pressing his thigh between hers. He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Privateer. Pirate. As long as you don’t talk about my booty, we’ll be fine.”

  Mason’s left hand reached down to run through her long hair. His fingers roved over her ribs and stole around her hip. He squeezed her butt. “I like you. And your booty,” he said.

  Casey giggled. The man’s lines really were ridiculous, but they served a purpose. Kept things light. Kept her on her toes.

  And then all thought fled as Mason reached around her back to draw her t-shirt over her head. He flipped open the front clasp of her bra, moving both cups aside. He dragged the straps slowly over her skin and she bit down on her lip as his chest came in full contact with hers. The tiny hairs on his bronzed chest teased her nipples, making her desperate for more. He tossed her bra on the deck and focused his attention on her needy breasts. His rough hands played against her softness and she arched her back, wanting more.

  He removed the pillows from behind her and deliciously cool air brushed against her back. She shivered. He pressed her against the soft seat of the chaise. His knees hit the deck and he took her foot in his hand, slowly releasing the leather strap around her ankle. Mason dropped the sandal to the ground and lifted her other foot to his lap.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  Cold? Not even close. The man was taking off her shoes and she was burning up. But she couldn’t make her voice work so she shook her head no as he reached up to unsnap the clasp on her skirt. He disposed of it as he had the rest of her clothes and then ran his hand lightly over the lace covering her center.

  Mason stood quickly, shucked his jeans and joined her on the chaise.

  His erection pulsed between them and her inner muscles clenched. Moisture trickled to her panties.

  Mason leaned on one elbow, playing with a lock of her hair and watching her. Like he was afraid she might change her mind. No chance of that, Casey thought. But what if he changed his mind? She didn’t want this to end, not like this. Not even tonight, she admitted. She would deal with it if all he wanted was a single moment out of time. And what did that say about her?

  “What do you want?” He interrupted her thoughts and Casey wanted to kiss him as a thank you. Somehow she had to get a handle on her emotions before she completely lost her mind.

  “You.” He wore a thick silver chain around his neck with a heavy cross hanging from it. Casey grabbed the chain, pulling him down to her. “I want you.”

  His mouth descended on hers, taking her swiftly to the next level. She panted against his mouth as he reached between their bodies to press his fingers gently against her core. His shaft was long and hard against her thigh, pulsing as he delved two fingers under the elastic of her panties and found her center. She was ready for him and his digits slid easily inside, filling her, reaching up, up, up inside. As his fingers worked their magic inside her, his thumb pressed against her clit. Pressing, rubbing, releasing but never letting up for long.

  She couldn’t decide where to focus her attention. There was his thick cock. His yummy chest. That back that begged to be explored. But turning him around would entail him removing his hands from her body and she didn’t want that. Not even a little bit. She settled for drifting.

  Teasing his nipples with her fingers, she first tweaked them between her fingers and then soothed the burn with her tongue. She reached between them to palm his erection and her belly tightened at the thought of his length replacing his fingers. Oh, it was going to be delicious.

  “Damn, woman, slow down.” He whispered the words between them, but didn’t really seem to mind when she squeezed him once more and then went back to work on his chest. His mouth. Her mouth met his and the thrusting of her tongue mimicked the thrusting of his fingers.

  He pulled away, putting an inch of space between them. His breath was hot on her neck, sending another pleasurable shock to her system. “You haven’t told me yet. What do you want?”

  The words barely penetrated the fuzz in her brain, but she knew without a doubt what she wanted. She wanted control tonight.

  She reached to draw his penis up. She rubbed her thumb over the tip and felt him tremble. “I want you inside me.”

  Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, sat her back a scant few inches and reached for his jeans. He pulled a foil packet from his wallet then tossed it onto the chair with their clothes. When he was sheathed, Casey straddled his hips once more.

  As she slid down his length, her muscles tightened in response. He moved his hands to her hips as she found her rhythm. He reached between them, his thumb brushing against her clit and she was lost. On a low moan, Casey threw back her head and watched the sky above explode in tiny twinkling color.

  She climaxed as he bucked beneath her. He pulled her chest to his and drew his strong hands down her back, around her buttocks and squeezed.

  “I definitely like your booty,” he joked.

  “Not on a first date you don’t.” She chuckled. She settled against his side, her arm thrown over his chest and her legs tangled with his.

  In two years with Nate, she had never felt this release. Never felt as thoroughly satisfied. How could a virtual stranger give her pleasure that a man who knew her for years couldn’t?

  They lay quietly for a few minutes. She teased the hair on his chest. She listened as their harsh breaths subsided, but couldn’t bear to break the contact between them. His heartbeat thundered beneath her hand. She imagined she could still feel his length pulsing inside her.

  It was only her imagination creating this feeling inside. A feeling that told her to settle in and sta
y in his arms forever. There was nothing between them but a vacation fling. Nothing more than two attractive people hooking up and going their separate ways.

  When she thought she could speak, she rose from his lap and reached for her shirt. Eyes closed, muscles relaxed, he slept. His mouth was slightly open, expelling small breaths every few seconds. He wasn’t deeply asleep, but now was her chance to escape without that horrible Moment After conversation.

  How could she explain this crazy situation to him? Somehow she didn’t think, I know we just slept together, but I’ve got another man staying in my room, so please don’t come there again. It’s not serious, he’s a paid escort, but I can’t exactly kick him out. Sorry, would do the trick.

  He would think she was nuts. Or lying. Either way, he’d despise her.

  The deck pulsed below her feet. The Vegas show was probably wrapping up. People would be on deck soon.

  She placed a kiss on his collarbone. He shrugged and settled back into sleep. Casey pulled her t-shirt over her head. Knowing he would wake up if she tried to rearrange his jeans, she placed his t-shirt carefully over his waist, covering him as best she could. Somehow she didn’t think the closed gauzy curtains would satisfy his anger when he woke alone. And naked.

  “We never did have that drink,” she said. She knew she should feel ashamed for using him to forget. For not getting to know him first. But she could only feel sorry that they wouldn’t have another moment like this one. She wouldn’t seek him out again. Not with Tyler in her room. It was just...too messed up. She barely knew Mason, but he deserved better than that.

  Her fifteen minutes were up. She was turning into a pumpkin. Pulling her bra from beneath his wallet, she stuffed it in her bag and quietly stood up.

  “I’m sorry.” Leaning down, she placed one last kiss on his mouth, withdrawing quickly before he woke up. “I have to go.”

  * * * *

  Mason woke to the sound of a slamming door. A cool breeze blew against his skin. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Casey on the chair beside him.

  The cabana was empty, no beautiful brunette in sight.

  No blue-checked mini-skirt. No pink toenails. She was gone.

  Grimacing, he lifted the t-shirt from his waist and then disposed of the condom in a nearby trashcan. He stood and pulled his jeans over his hips. At least she had the decency to put the shirt over him so he wouldn’t scare any old ladies who might venture into the cabana to look at the stars.

  Why did she run away like that?

  Mason didn’t have an answer. His editor’s voice rang in his head.

  Cassandra Cash chews up reporters and eats them for breakfast.

  She might make reporters’ lives hell, but she didn’t know he was a reporter. And sleeping with her wasn’t hell. Not even Purgatory. Sex with Casey was as close to heaven as Mason figured he’d ever get. God, she was so tight around him he thought he’d scream. No way she had turned any man off women. Just what was the ex trying to pull?

  That didn’t solve the problem, of course. She was running from him.

  He would just have to run her down, because he wasn’t close to finished with the small brunette.

  He needed to come clean. Tell her he was a reporter, but maybe letting her know he wasn’t writing the story on her would soften the blow. Besides, she was lying to him, too. She didn’t tell him she was famous or that her books were on more coffee tables than Pledge.

  Of course, he hadn’t really given her a chance. When he saw her looking from the newspaper to the crowd and back again, he knew it was her. Knew she was freaking out. And even without knowing her, he wanted to rescue her.

  He went from coming on to her to nearly attacking her in the elevator and then to surprising her at her stateroom door. With several opportunities to tell her who he was, he hadn’t. At the thought of her, his cock went hard.

  He couldn’t solve her problems for her. She was better off without him, but he wasn’t going to leave it like this. Mason Drury wasn’t a commitment kind of guy, but then, he didn’t do one-night stands, either.

  Serial monogamy, that was his game. For the rest of this cruise, he was going to be monogamous with Casey Cash. Now, to convince her to be monogamous with him.

  * * * *

  The door to the passageway banged shut behind Casey and she leaned against it, exhausted. She wanted to escape to her room, but Tyler was probably there. He was being paid to be with her, but somehow she didn’t think he would appreciate her need to talk about screwing a stranger. Especially since he was the one she was supposed to be loving for the next week.

  She straightened from the door, clutched her bag tighter and headed down the corridor. Forget Tyler. She needed to get to her room and get fully dressed. She couldn’t find her panties on the deck and her bra was stuffed inside her purse. She felt naked without those tiny essentials on her body.

  Passing one of the large meeting rooms, she glanced inside. A crowd of people worked on balloon nets, and four more hung some kind of sign. No guests seemed to be around, at least not yet. Thank God.

  They must be getting ready for a private party. She quickly slipped past the glass doors and continued down the hall. She needed to get away from the party before the guests showed up. She felt thoroughly fucked, in the best way possible, and was sure she looked it, too.

  She should email Jane.

  Casey dismissed that notion from her brain. She didn’t want to talk to Jane just now. Well-meaning or not, half of this problem was hers. She’d hired Tyler to help Casey forget Nate, and then a reporter got wind of the scheme. Now that she’d slept with him, Casey wanted Mason, a man who very well could end her reputation.

  Except he seemed like a nice guy. Reporters were egotistical, not known for personal integrity. God, if Mason was the reporter, she had already given him more than enough ammunition against her. She couldn’t tell him about Tyler, too.

  One more encounter like tonight and she would tell him anything. She’d been ready to tell him why she couldn’t see him again—all the details—up on deck. Not the smartest move she had made.

  No. She needed to disappear from Mason Drury’s radar before she told him all her secrets and fell in love with his abilities between the sheets.

  Sure, he knew where her room was, but she could ignore when he knocked. If she paid close attention to a room before she entered, she could probably avoid him for the rest of the cruise.

  A crowd of men and women in near-formal wear exited the main ballroom, laughing and talking. Casey slunk to the side of the hall, letting them pass by. An elderly couple were the last ones out of the room.

  The man paused, noticing her trying to disappear into the wall. He elbowed his wife and pointed.

  “Mags, it’s her,” he said in a loud whisper.

  Mags shook her head and tried to pull him away. The old man stepped forward.

  “Excuse me,” he said. His voice was rough, as if he were getting over a cold. Casey couldn’t tell if he was sick, or if it was just his age. “You’re Cassandra Cash, aren’t you?”

  A blush heated her cheeks as she stepped away from the wall, running a hand through her hair. Busted. Wonderful.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she nodded. “Yes.” She held out her hand and it disappeared in the healthy grip of the older man’s.

  “I knew it. I told you it was her,” he said, turning to his wife. “Mags, can you believe it? Before the party and everything.”

  She smiled at the older woman, who looked apologetically back at her and then expelled a breath.

  Here it comes.

  The older man looked excitedly at her. “I’m Eddie, this is Maggie.” He pointed at his wife. “I just wanted to let you know, we love your books. You saved our sex life...it was like you looked into our world. Like you knew us, or at least Mags,” he gushed.

  “Eddie,” Maggie said, drawing out his name and grabbing Eddie’s hand. She tried to pull him down the passageway.

  He resisted for a
moment, but Maggie’s grip was too strong. “But I wanted to tell her about our problems back when—”

  “She doesn’t need to hear about our problems. She’s a nice young girl. She doesn’t want to be bothered.”

  “It’s okay,” Casey said before she could stop herself. “I like meeting people. It’s one of the nice things about being a writer.”

  “But you’re not here on a book tour, other than the party tonight, I mean. You want to be left alone.” Mags pulled on Eddie’s arm, and he reached out with his other arm to pat Casey on the shoulder.

  “Your books are great,” he said.

  Casey felt like she’d been punched in the gut, but in a good way. Tears threatened at the corner of her eyes and she caught her breath. They liked her. Even with the baggage piling up behind her, they liked her.

  “Let’s leave the poor girl alone,” Mags said, pulling Eddie with her down the hall.

  “But I wanted to tell her before—” The rest of his words were cut off when the two got into the elevator down the hall.

  Huh. That was nothing like she’d imagined. Not one question about Nate or their break-up.

  Maggie and Eddie made a cute couple. They reminded Casey of her grandparents. Ewww, now she would have an image of her grandparents having sex with her book on the nightstand. She shook herself and put the thought out of her mind.

  Smiling, Casey continued down the hall. She would take the next stairway down to her room. Maybe Tyler wouldn’t be there. If he was, she would just ask him to leave. For a little while, at least.

  Rounding the corner, Casey jogged down the steps and turned right. She stuck her keycard in the door, but nothing happened. Turning it over, she saw why.

  She’d grabbed a business card from her purse instead of the plastic key. Rolling her eyes, Casey chuckled and turned it over.

  Her heart stopped.

  The business card read Drury and Sons Plumbing and had several New York prefixes listed. It must have fallen from Mason’s wallet when he dropped it on the chair.