by Tijan
I pulled her to a stop. “I’m not hearing that it’s nothing.” There was more. I heard the undertone of anguish in her voice.
She closed her eyes and her forehead went to my chest. Her shoulders lifted again and fell back down as her hands rested on my waist. She murmured, “It’s hard. You’re not there and…” Her head tipped back. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. “Being close to Logan makes me miss you even more. If I shut him out, I shut out that pain. Sometimes.”
My thumb went to her chin. Moving it back and forth in a comforting motion, my own emotion rising in me. “It’s a year and then you’ll both be here.” But it didn’t matter. My reassurance fell on deaf ears. I could tell because I felt it too. We were family and the family was torn apart. Drawing her into my arms, I rested my chin on the top of her head and held her. That’s all I wanted, for only a moment. No matter what we did, the truth was that I was a three hour drive away. Logan was with Helen and Sam was living with another family, again. My hand swept down her back and she burrowed even closer to me. I dropped another kiss to her head.
We stayed like that, for a few seconds, before Logan honked the horn at us.
I lifted my hand, not moving away from Sam, and gave him my middle finger. His laughter pealed out a second later and I glanced over, grinning. He flicked me off right back, then hollered, “Let’s go. You two can get it on tonight. I want to party with my brother.”
Sam stepped back, grinning ruefully. “He switched from wanting to fight to wanting to party.”
Lacing our hands together, I started for the car. “You know Logan. He never changes.”
We shared a grin because only the Threesome Fearsome, what Logan called us, really knew the real Logan. He’d want to stir shit up before the end of the night. That was just him.
*
SAMANTHA
My hand never left Mason’s. When we went inside the club—as Kris squealed, gushing over everything, the walls included—we were led to a private area. When we got there, I felt overstimulated. There was so much to take in. The club was huge, like a smaller version of the football stadium. The private booth or box, I wasn’t sure what it could be called, wasn’t a private booth or box. It was a private everything. We had our own floor with its own dance floor, set above the main dance floor. The DJ booth was attached to our floor, set in a corner so the crowd below could see him. When he began a new beat, they went crazy, waving their arms and pounding on the floor.
It was nuts. I’d never seen anything like this.
Dry ice filled the room with white smoke. When the DJ would raise his arms, a burst of white smoke would shoot out over the floor. It raised and covered the front of our floor as well. Neon lights flashed all over, and I had to cover my eyes so I could adjust before a headache came on. There was a bar when we first entered the club, then another bar at the end of the hallway going to the private floor, a third at the top of the stairs, and four more set up all around us.
I touched Mason’s arm and he leaned down for me. “Is your entire football team here?”
“Uh.” He scanned the room and nodded. “Looks like.” He flashed me a grin. “Matteo’s birthday is a big deal. The team loves him.”
I could see that. There were people everywhere. A group of guys stood in a circle by the dance floor. They were sipping their drinks, talking, and watching the girls dancing. And the girls knew it. They’d smile over at them, move more seductively, and the guys would smirk back at them. There was an area filled with couches on the other side of the room. Again, a group of guys sat there, leaning forward with their elbows on their knees or lounging back, but it was obvious they were involved in a big discussion. Scattered around them, on the outskirts, were a few couples. A guy and girl had paired off. A few of the girls were straddling their guys and they were kissing, and I skimmed over the couches near us. There were more couples, but these were holding hands, talking, laughing, or just sitting beside each other.
Feeling Mason’s hand curve over my hip, a surge of warmth and pride went through me. This was his world. All these people had the best clothes. I’d been around wealthy people. I grew up going to Fallen Crest Academy. The average student came from a home who made $250,000 a year. Living with Mason and Logan, they were even wealthier than that, but I had never been intimidated by their money. I was now, and I had no idea why. Standing in this room, seeing the flashy clothes, the athletic bodies of all the guys, I felt apprehensive. My hand rested on top of Mason’s, and I left it there.
He glanced down, a small question in his eyes, as he pulled me closer. “You okay?”
I forced myself to nod, but my neck was stiff. “Yeah.” Just don’t go anywhere. Hearing my own inner thought, icy fear plunged my insides. I was losing Mason. I felt it.
Breathe, Samantha. Breathe. Run. Keep going. That’d been my mantra for so long.
My eyelids lifted and I skimmed over Logan. His arms were wrapped around Kris from behind. She was pointing around the room and his head was moved down beside hers. As she said something, he nodded and kissed the side of her neck.
“Sam.”
Jerking out of my thoughts, I forced my hand to loosen around Mason’s. I had been clenching onto him so tight, that I saw an imprint of my hand over his now. Instead of rubbing his hand so the blood could flow back into it, he lifted it to my chin and tipped my head back. He peered down into my eyes. A memory of when I first moved in with them flashed in my mind. He always could see inside me. My palms started sweating and a grin cracked over my lips.
“What?”
“I forgot what it felt like when you do that.”
“Do what?” A grin teased at the corner of his mouth, but he continued to look at me.
This was Mason. I was front and center to him. Always. “You can see inside me. No one else can do that.”
He nodded.
I started to look away, but he caught me and lifted my chin again. Moving so he was directly on top of me, his forehead rested gently against mine and his nose grazed against my nose, resting there. His chest lifted, tension filled him, and he let it all out. His body relaxed. His finger softened and began to caress my skin, then he murmured, “I can see inside you because I’m in there. You let me in.” His thumb rested against my cheek. He cupped the side of my face. “You always let me in and I knew, even when you first moved in, that you didn’t let anyone in. If I don’t tell you every day that I’m honored for that privilege, then I’m a fool. Because I am very honored.” He tilted my head back, raised my lips, and held his just over mine. They teased me, resting there, but not pressing against mine. “I love you so much, Sam. You’re in me too, just so you know. You can see inside me.”
As he murmured those words, something broke off and fell deep in my gut. I knew Logan loved me, and I was keeping that a secret. Shame, guilt, and disgust all swept together. Feeling a tear coming, I didn’t want him to see that. He would press me. I wasn’t ready to face that yet so I surged up on my feet, grabbed a hold of his face with both hands, and pressed my lips to his.
I was starving for him. Tasting my need, Mason wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me off my feet and moving us. The sounds from the club grew muffled and the lights dimmed. We were in a room. It was only us, no light, no one else. He opened his mouth over mine.
Answering my desperation with his own, he lifted me higher and I crawled up his body. My legs wound around his waist, clenching tightly. His hand slid under my shirt, grasping onto my breast. It wasn’t enough. Moving so I could get a better angle, my mouth opened over his and I felt his tongue slide inside me and brush against mine. It was a delicious rub, and I whimpered, needing more. I would always need more with him. My hands fell to his jeans. I wanted him in me, all the way in, but his hands brushed mine aside.
My legs tightened around him in protest. I rubbed my chest against his and tried again.
He blocked me, but his hand wedged inside my jeans, and his fingers plunged inside me.
&nbs
p; I gasped, feeling the rush of pleasure.
Mason nipped at my bottom lip while his fingers plunged in and out. He wasn’t being gentle. As his fingers kept thrusting, I was paralyzed from the sensations. They were building, and they were overwhelming. I tried moving my hand to him, wanting to give him pleasure as well, but his fingers kept going in and out.
God. It was coming.
My head fell back to rest against the wall. As my climax was nearing, I gasped and arched my back. Mason’s head fell to my exposed throat. He kissed me there as his fingers continued their onslaught. A groan built from deep in my throat. As it began to slip out, Mason kept going, but he covered my mouth with his.
A scream erupted out of me, muffled by his lips, as I hurdled over the edge.
He held me as the tremors ripped through me. When they had faded and I could walk, my legs slid down from around his waist to the ground. Still holding me, he brushed a hand over my forehead, smoothing my hair and tucking a few strands behind my ears. He leaned down, and his lips grazed over mine in a soft kiss. “No matter what’s going on inside you, I’m here. I always will be.” He pressed another kiss to my forehead. “I love you.”
My hands grabbed and fisted his shirt. I loved him too. God, I loved him. The entire act of what he did was beautiful, loving, and tender all at the same time. I didn’t deserve him.
“Sam?”
“I love you too, and I don’t deserve you.” Just tell him. Get it over with. Let the chips fall where they lay. I was screaming at myself, but I silenced that voice. “When we get home…” I was going to make it up to him. I was going to love him how he just loved me.
A cloud of confusion appeared over him, but as he read the promises in me, it cleared and a small grin showed again. He bent down and I closed my eyes, waiting for the feel of his lips again—
“Tell me you’re not boning in a club?” A loud voice broke the moment. The door opened wider, letting in the neon lights and booming music. A silhouette of a large guy stood inside the doorway, and he flung his arms up. “I’m staying at a sorority house for you, man. This is supposed to happen at home. Do you not appreciate the sacrifice I’m making for you?” His hands cupped together, and he shook them at us. “Sorority chicks. Vanilla scented everything, even their forks smell like mocha and sweat pea. Pink shit everywhere. Bowls of ice cream. Boobs flashing all over the place. It’s hell, Mason, and you’re in here getting it on?”
He made a sound of disgust, shook his head, and turned to leave. “What I do, my roommate, and you don’t appreciate it.”
Mason chuckled. His hands finished zipping me up, one of his slid into mine, and he pulled me out of the small room. A group had congregated in the center of the floor. Other guys, I assumed they were also football players from their large sizes, stood with Logan and Kris. His arm was around her shoulders, and he grinned wickedly at us.
When he caught my eye, one of his eyebrows curved up.
I rolled my eyes.
Logan started laughing. “This is what I lived with for a year. They’re rabbits, man.”
Mason pulled me closer to his side, then gestured to the guy who had interrupted us. “Sam, this is Matteo. My roommate. Matt,” he indicated Logan, “this is my brother and my girlfriend.”
Matteo was intimidating. He was bald, tan, and large. He stood as tall as Mason, but he was twice his weight. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and jeans and I saw the muscle definition. He wasn’t all muscle, but I could tell he was a powerful lineman. His dark eyes flashed and a wide grin appeared as he raked me up and down. He harrumphed and nodded. “Yep. I can see the obsession.” He jerked a thumb in Mason’s direction. “Your man is obsessed with you. He don’t talk. He’s not all frou frou with his emotions, but a brotha knows.” He turned to Mason. “She’s a good one. I can tell.”
“I know.”
Matteo went to Logan’s side and threw an arm around his shoulder. His hand patted the arm that Logan had around Kris. “You can be obsessed with your woman. Me, I’m obsessed with your brother. You didn’t prepare me for him, man. What were you thinking?”
Mason frowned slightly. “What are you talking about?”
Matteo’s smile widened. He pounded his chest and pounded Logan’s chest. “There’s a soul brotha connection here. You should’ve told me I’d be meeting one of my kindred.”
“Oh my god.” Mason laughed. “Why am I not surprised the two of you are already friends?”
Logan winked. “And guess what? He hates Park Sebastian as much as me.”
“See.” Matteo’s head bobbed up and down with an approving grin. “Soul brotha connection. SBC. That’s what I’m calling it.”
Logan jerked his chin up at Mason. “And you’re not included. You’re not a SBC-er. That sucks for you.”
A couple of the guys in the group started laughing. One, who was leaner than the rest but just as tall, shook his head. He had brown hair, long enough for him to gel it up into small spikes. He had dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a soft face that gave him a young, pretty boy look. He said to Mason, “Your brother and your roommate are in love with each other.”
Mason grinned at the guy. His hand moved to a loop in my jean’s waistline. His finger went through it, anchoring me to him. “I’m seeing that.”
Matteo and Logan had stopped listening. They turned to each other and both held the other’s head in their hands. They began moving up and down, as if participating in a dance/football huddle together. They began chanting. When I heard it, I started laughing.
“S-B-C.” With each letter, they moved up and down. “S-B-C.” They began saying it faster and faster. The rest of the group started in, shaking their fists in the air. When it was so fast, sounding like only one loud word, Logan and Matteo threw their arms in the air, making the sound of an explosion. The other guys did the same.
Logan stepped back, grinning like crazy, but Matteo danced around. He jumped, planted his feet on the ground, and began shaking his fists in the air, pumping his arms like he was a machine, and he went faster and faster until his arms were a blur. The guys formed a circle around him, bringing their fists down in the air as they began their own chant, “Cain. Cain. Cain.”
A battle cry came from Matteo and he jumped in the middle of the circle. He stayed in the same spot, but jumped so he was facing north, then south, then west. He went all the way around, his arms still going, the guys making the same chant, until finally he seemed to combust. His head tipped back, his arms shook in the air, and the rest of the guys flung their hands up at the same time. They were all saying, “Cain U. Cain U. Cain U. Cain U.”
The pretty boy guy moved into the circle. He lifted a hand. As he did, the group fell silent. All their hands lifted in sync with the leader. They were waiting, watching him, and as he brought his hand down, they slammed theirs down on top of his. One last cheer erupted from them, “Cain U conquers you!”
The rest of the room, including the staff at the bar, joined in and the sound was deafening. The school pride was unmistakable.
Mason leaned close to me. “This is our chant before we run out of the locker room. We start it right when we step on the field, and at the end, the stadium joins in with the last line and we run out.” His eyes were sparkling. “It’s an adrenalin rush.”
I nodded, but I had no words. The unity and tradition was strong. I had felt it at the game, but I felt it even more now. These football players were gods here. My hand curved under Mason’s and our fingers laced together. He was one of them. Everything fell away.
I was proud to be at his side.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When I woke up, Mason was gone. The door to his bathroom was open so I knew he wasn’t in there. A rumbling began in my stomach and I laid back down. I didn’t want to move. The whole night had been a lot to take in. We had stayed at the club for a few hours. It had been nice to meet all of his teammates. I could tell they already respected Mason, and his roommate adored him. It was obvious. Grinning
, I remembered the look of brotherly love Matteo had given Mason when we said our goodbyes. The big lineman had been drunk, and his girlfriend told me later that he was glowing because he was so happy about meeting Logan, but I could tell that his supposed soul brotha connection wasn’t only with Logan. It was with Mason as well. When we left the nightclub, Logan and Kris had stayed, but the guy who led the chant (Mason formally introduced him later as Drew) reassured us that he’d make sure Logan would get a cab.
“Morning.” Mason came through the door with a cup of coffee in one hand and a toasted bagel on a plate in the other. He put both on the stand beside the bed and sat next to me. The bed dipped under his weight. “You sleep good?”
“Mmmm, more than good.” His finger trailed up my arm, and I closed my eyes. A feeling of contentment filled me. As his finger went to my shoulder, I rolled to my side, and he went down my other arm. Images of the night came to me, once we had gotten to his room. I felt a stirring between my legs again. We had spent the rest of the night making love. “What time is it?”
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
We had slept four hours. I grinned up at him. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “Not a bit. You?”
I shook my head. “I should be.” But I wasn’t.
We shared a look, then I began tugging him down to me as his phone went off. Groaning, I flipped onto my back as he went to answer it. “Logan.” He paused, twisted to see me, and I sat up. “Yeah, yeah. We can do that.” He paused again, his eyes narrowing. “You sure? Okay. I’ll call him.”
When he hung up, I asked, “What’d he want?”
Mason came back over and sat beside me, his phone in hand. As he pressed two buttons and lifted the phone to his ear again, he rested his hand on my leg. “He wants to meet for brunch. He wants Nate to come too.”
“Oh.” I chuckled. “I’m surprised he didn’t ask for your roommate too.”