Tears stream down my cheeks.
“I know Rex wasn’t perfect,” I say. “And you’re right. He didn’t deserve to die. Not like that. But…”
“But what?” My mom butts in.
I should tell her everything. I should just confess. It’s not my fault, right?
“Nothing,” I lie, and I head back inside.
Later that night, I toss and turn, unable to sleep. I text Mason.
Clarissa: U up?
Mason: Yes
Clarissa: Me too. Can’t sleep
Mason: It’s awful.
Clarissa: Are you worried about the police?
Mason: Why would I be? We have nothing to hide. But I am worried about your college applications…
Clarissa: It’s fine. Better to tell the truth
Mason: No. I’ll cover for you
Clarissa: How will you do that?
Mason: I’ll take care of it. Do NOT tell them anything.
The next Monday, I find a letter in my locker.
Clarissa,
Saturday was one of the most amazing nights of my life. Until it wasn’t. I think we’ll always have a special friendship. But for now, I think it’s best if we go back to being just friends. You don’t know this about me—but I can’t get close to people. And what we did Saturday—that scares the shit out of me. How much I enjoyed it, I mean.
I know you’ll understand.
See you around.
XO
Mason
24
Mason
Let’s Change the Past
Present
My jaw drops as she finishes recalling the night that broke our relationship, if you could call it that, before we even got started.
“Mason, you’re the one who doesn’t want to get close to me,” Clarissa explains with a hint of aggravation in her voice. “It was a crazy night, sure. But I never judged you for anything you did.”
“It was a tragedy,” I say as my body clenches up, recalling the emotions of the day. I remember writing that note,” I say, swirling my drink. “That was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”
“You were my hero. You broke my heart with that note, you know that?”
She looks up at me with little puppy dog eyes, and for a second, I regret writing it.
And then I remember my conviction at the time, and why I said what I said.
“Yeah, but it was for the best.”
She crosses her arms and huffs. “You still think so?”
I put my hand on her leg and hold it there. “I knew even in high school that you were destined for great things. What the fuck would we have done? Dated for a year and then become one of those couples who clings to their high school relationship as we mature past it? Was I going to fly out and visit you in Boston every other month at Harvard and spend half my income on plane tickets? You know it wouldn’t have worked.”
There’s a tear in her eye. “We were in high school! How did you know all that by then? Why didn’t you just take things one day at a time? Why were you so afraid of a connection?”
I stiffen up as I throw back another swig of my drink. “You know the story of my parents, right?”
“You’ve never mentioned too much about them, to be honest. I know your Dad lives in Las Vegas and your Mom lives around here.”
“That’s only part of the story. My parents met in high school, and you know how that worked out for them. My Dad left her when I was five. He moved to Vegas. Just packed everything up and bam! Gone like the wind. My Mom didn’t even see it coming.”
“So? What does that have to do with you?”
“What if I have a streak of that in me? What if I have a freak out some day? And I thought about that all weekend. Rex dying seemed like it was the omen for me to stay away from you, or something bad would happen. So I listened to that. And I wrote that note.”
She smiles tearfully, like she’s fighting multiple emotions. “You broke my heart a little bit, you know that.”
“I did?”
She scoots her bar chair closer, and rakes her hand through my hair. “Yes. You did. Your hair is so soft by the way.”
“How could I? We went on the one date. And thanks.”
“And it was the best date I’d ever been on. I know it’s ridiculous, but I felt so close to you after that date. Closer to anyone than I’d ever felt.”
“Really?”
“Oh come on, that date had everything. A secret rendezvous, faking it on the kiss cam, a baseball game…”
“A best friend and brother we couldn’t tell the whole truth to...”
She shakes her head. “And Mason, if I’m being honest,” she pauses, takes a sip of her drink, and plays with her hair. “The reason I didn’t want to have sex with you now, was that I was afraid I’d get too attached, and then you’d pull away just like you did in high school. I remembered how painful that was. Seeing you with my brother at my house during the rest of the senior year. Pretending like that night between us didn’t happen.”
“Pretending like I didn’t want to kiss the shit out of you every time I saw you.”
“So it’s opening night, Mason.” She spreads her legs on the stool, and touches my knees. “And I’m giving you one chance. Do you want that connection with me, or don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes I do.”
We both inch forward, our eyes now closed.
There’s an imaginary line between us, something that’s blocking me from giving my whole heart to Clarissa.
And as I feel the heat of her body closing in, a realization hits me.
That’s exactly what the line between us is: imaginary.
My adrenaline spikes.
Holy shit. I’ve been imagining this line between us the whole time.
Clarissa didn’t just want to be friends with benefits.
She wants it all.
But only if I do, too.
There’s always a point in a romance where you realize that not only do you want the girl.
But you’ll stop at nothing to make sure you get her.
As I grip Clarissa’s jaw and press my lips into hers, I finally understand exactly what I want: it’s her.
I’m going to have her no matter what it takes.
No matter what the stakes.
I block everything else out of my mind and just kiss her.
She moans as we fight with our tongues.
“What was that?” she asks when she pulls back.
I smirk. “The fuck do you think it was? I was kissing the shit out of you.”
She giggles. “Yes I know. But that 0ne felt different from all the others somehow. And your beard...”
I shrug. “I’m done with this kiddie third base stuff. It’s time for me to make a woman out of you. And yes, I know how much you love my beard.”
She laughs. “You did not just say you’re going to ‘make a woman out of me.’”
“I did.”
She sighs. “Are you being serious? I can’t tell if you are.”
“Just sit back, baby. It’s time for me to make your fantasies come true.”
“Oh? Which fantasy is that?
“You don’t remember, do you,” I continue.
She shakes her head.
I can’t hide my smile as I brush my cheek close to hers and whisper.
“Baby, I’m talking about a body shot off the hottest bartender in town.”
Her gaze floats away from my eyes and she gives me an up-and-down.
“I think I can manage that,” she chokes out. Her voice is a little hoarse, and I don’t know if it’s from a night of constantly talking to tables, or the fact that I’ve caught her quite off guard.
I take off my shirt, and enjoy Clarissa’s reaction as she runs her eyes over me. I think she’s glowing just from the sight of me.
I grab the tequila and pour a couple of shots, then hop up on the bar.
“Clarissa baby, it’s time we cut to the fucking chase. And it’s time I make all o
f your dreams come true.”
I lay down on the bar. She slowly runs her hands over my eight pack.
All the long and lonely nights I’ve spent in the gym. The dedication I’ve had to stay with Muay Thai for all those years.
When she runs her hands along my rock hard body and smiles, the look on her face is all worth it.
And it’s at that very moment I realize how completely, totally fucked I am.
I’ll do absolutely anything for this girl.
The fake breakup we’ve agreed to? Fuck that.
However, that is a thought topic for another time.
At the moment, with Clarissa running her soft, small hands down my abs, I can’t exactly think straight.
“So how do I do this shot again?” she asks.
I smile, loving how innocent she is.
“You’ve never been on spring break?”
She gives me a sideways look. “Every single spring break, I was working to keep my student loans low.”
I chuckle. “Such a good girl.”
She bites her lower lip. “Not for you, I’m not.”
“Good. I like you bad. Now lick my stomach, shake a little salt, put the shot glass on my chest, and then the lime in my mouth.”
She grins. “This should definitely be a mandatory part of bartender training. Except…only for me.”
“Done. I mean baby, if you want a personal bartending training session, all you have to do is ask. I’ll add it to the syllabus. There’s just one more requirement,” I say.
“What’s that?”
“I need you to strip down to your bra and panties for this.”
“Yes Sir, head bartender Sir,” she says playfully.
I watch, enchanted, as she slips out of her skirt and reveals a black bra and panties combo.
“You look so damn gorgeous, if you were a drink I would slam you right now in one pull.”
She giggles. “You want to slam me? That sounds rough.”
“Or maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’d nurse you and savor you for the whole night. Shit, I want both. Can I drink you twice?”
Blood rushes between my legs and I am so turned on. The drink analogy is the perfect metaphor for how I feel about Clarissa. I simultaneously want to be the guy who fucks her so hard she walks like an Ariana Grande song the next morning.
And I also want to sweetly make love to her for hours on end, exploring her body one inch at a time.
Make Love.
It’s the one thing we haven’t done in the past few months during our fake engagement. Clarissa has made her hangups about sex crystal clear, and I’ve vowed to respect those boundaries.
But right now, watching her prance up to me with a wry smile on her face holding a shot glass, my boner has gotten so hard it might just rip through my jeans.
I take a deep breath and let the moment take over. This is definitely one of those memories I’ll never forget.
Clarissa sets the full shot glass on my chest, licks my stomach and shakes a little salt onto me, then places the lime between my teeth.
I love the feel of her tongue as she licks the salt off my abs, swallows the shot, and arrives at my mouth to bite down on the lime chaser.
She lingers on my mouth, hovering over me still in just a bra and panties. The situation is so ridiculous—being at the bar past closing time doing body shots—yet it also feels like the most natural thing in the world.
It feels like it was meant to be.
I run my hand through her hair.
“Your turn now, sweetheart.”
Her eyes flutter open. “Sweetheart?” she repeats.
I shrug. “It’s about time I start calling you that. I mean, we’ve only got a couple of more weeks until the breakup.”
“Right,” she swallows, her eyes shifting away from me. “The breakup.”
My gut wrenches, because that’s something I’d rather not think of now.
“So lay down, Sweetheart. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time.”
“You have, too?”
I nod as we switch spots. I hop down and she jumps up on top of the bar. She smiles as I prepare my tequila shot.
This isn’t just about the tequila shot, though. This is years and years of pent up aggression. Pent up sexual energy.
Dare I say love.
Fuck.
Is this the tequila talking?
Wait. It can’t be. I haven’t had my shot yet.
Maybe I’m contact drunk from kissing Clarissa.
But it’s true. I don’t know if what I felt for Clarissa so long ago was love. But I know what I’m feeling right now—how she’s reacting to me and how I can feel our connection deepening on some spiritual or psychological level—this is real and I want to consummate it.
She lets out a soft moan as I lick the salt off her stomach, dragging my tongue across her skin as lightly as a feather.
“Hmm mm. That tickles,” she says.
I drop my nose into her breasts as I grab the tequila shot with only my mouth.
A little giggle escapes her mouth and it’s the cutest, hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
I toss the shot back, then place the glass to the side. For the grand finale I end up at her lips. I dig into the lime with my teeth, letting its juices squirt into my mouth. I spit the lime out, then cup Clarissa’s cheek and sink my lips deep into her.
We kiss softly, tenderly, and suddenly I find myself on top of the bar. We grind together. I’m so fucking hard.
“You are the sweetest chaser ever” I say. “I’m gonna have to keep you around so I can do all my personal shots off you.”
Our bodies touch each other, the skin hot to the touch, and my hand runs slowly sliding down her stomach.
“Oh God please. Can we just, can we just do it already?” she says.
Her eyes flutter.
“Which ‘it’ are you referring to?” I ask as I slip my fingers under her panties, sliding them close against her body until they reach her clit.
“Oh God please,” she moans as I rub her gently. “Yes. Mason.” she says, raking her hand through my hair. “Fuck me, please. I want you so bad.”
“You want to go all the way?” I arch an eyebrow. “I thought you said-”
“I know what I said. I want…” she reaches her hand out and rubs it against the outside of my jeans, feeling the outline of my hard dick. “This. I want to feel every hard inch of you.”
“Fuck, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say. I want you too, Gorgeous. But I need to make sure that you completely want this right now.”
“What, do you think that one tequila shot got me drunk?”
I shrug. “Probably not.”
She reaches her hands up to my neck. “I’m drunk on you, Mason. Stop teasing me. I want you so bad.”
“Fuck,” I moan, my voice gravelly and drawn out.
“What? You don’t wanna?” she says, threading a hand through my hair.
“Oh, we’re gonna,” I say. “I just always pictured my first time with you in a bed.”
“Well,” she rubs her hand down my chest. “What if I pictured it on a bar?”
My eyes bulge out of my head. “You’ve already thought about this?”
“Maybe,” she half-grins, her expression positively evil.
I pull my jeans off, and start on my boxers. “You mean, you’ve thought about this before?”
“Yes.”
“Have you touched yourself to this before? Don’t lie.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I kiss her one more time as she squirms on the bar. “Well it’s a good thing you’ve visualized this before,” I growl. “Because the bar countertop is narrow and it might be a little hard to fuck on top of.”
She points her legs up in the air and slips off her panties. “I think we can manage.”
I stick my hand in my jeans pocket and grab a condom packet, peel it open and slide a condom onto my already hard full massive cock. I take a moment w
hen I stand back up and recognize how beautiful, how ridiculous this whole scene is. It is fitting that our first time is on the bar that we built.
I climb onto the bar and kneel between her spread legs.
“Oh God, yes,” she says as she slides her legs open for me.
I stand on the side of the bar and slide my cock inside of her, feeling her clamp down all around me. Her fingers dig into my back as I press all the way inside of her.
“Oh fuck yeah,” I say.
“Amazing,” she whispers gently, whispering in my ear.
I clench the back of her hair. “I love how you look right now.”
I watch her gorgeous stomach, breast and hips as they wiggle as I slide my cock in and out of her. I go slowly at first, just enjoying the feeling of having her body totally envelope me. We find our perfect rhythm together.
She’s so damn tight, I have to go slow just to avoid coming in the first thirty seconds. Jesus, she is blessed with a marvelous pussy.
I run my hands up and down along her side.
“Harder, Mason,” she whispers. “I want you to do me harder. Yes, right there.”
“Baby, you need to tell me when you’re coming. Okay?” I say and I don’t know how much longer I can hold on for her. I’m so turned on right now. I’m about to blow.
“Yeah, Okay. I’m-oh fuck Mason...” Her voice trails off into sweet moans.
The way she says my name is so hot. I can smell her breath and it puts me over the edge. I feel her clamp down on my thickness as I explode in pleasure, filling the condom.
When it’s done, we press our foreheads together in a soft embrace. The dawn light is just starting to break. I don’t pull out of her yet.
“I never thought our first time would be like this,” she says.
“I never thought we would have a first time,” I respond.
She runs her hand from my shoulder down to the side of my V.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” she says, her eyes fluttering from my waist back up to my eyes.
“Beautiful. That’s interesting adjective to use for a guy.”
“Yeah, well. For you it works.”
Bartender with Benefits Page 15