Karma (Endgame Series Book 3)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  A finger enters as his tongue continues assaulting my clit, and I can’t stay still. “Mason.” I fight hard, but my hips rotate against his face, and he doesn’t still me.

  “Ride,” he commands. And I do. I grind against his tongue, move so his finger enters me deeper, moan as I’m spiraled into bliss.

  Repeat.

  Fuck, it’s happening.

  Repeat.

  Closer still. Another finger enters, and his mouth sucks harder, his tongue firmer in its flicks, his fingers stronger as he pumps them in and out . . . causing me to careen off the cliff.

  My gaze is still stuck to his as my mouth opens, and I scream in glory. Euphoria. I continue fucking his face, and he takes it all. Every ounce of pleasure he absorbs in his mouth as he fuels me to continue coming around his fingers and mouth.

  He softens his pressure and works me down as he kisses up my stomach, biting my nipples and squeezing my breasts. His mouth covers mine, and tasting the pleasure he gave me, spurs me to please him. I wrap my legs around his waist, bring my pussy to his cock, and glide down. “Shit.” He pushes up, grabs a condom, and sheaths himself.

  I’m disappointed I didn’t get to play, but that goes by the wayside as he pushes inside me. He hesitates as I move up the bed as the pain consumes me. “Please tell me you aren’t . . .?”

  I’m not. “No. It’s been awhile.” And it was one time. After the frat house disaster a few years ago, I was determined to rid myself of my virginity. I wanted to know I could have sex, and the memories from that night wouldn’t rear their ugly head. It wasn’t up to the hype, but the deed was done. I wasn’t in a hurry to have a repeat performance. “Give me a minute.”

  His head drops to my neck, kissing and sucking as he thrusts shallow and lets me get used to him. I meet him push for push, and he slips deeper as I clench my muscles. “You can’t do that shit and expect me to go easy.” I giggle, and he tweaks my nipple.

  I pull his head to mine and take control of the kiss as he moves above me and works himself further in me. It’s pinching pain and soaring pleasure. “Damn, you feel so fucking good.” I grin and angle my hips. I push up, allowing him to slide in to the hilt.

  “Holy fuck,” I groan. “Move.” He’s lit something inside of me. Something I didn’t feel with his head nestled at my center. I push up as he sinks deep.

  His hands grip my thighs, shoving them wide, and he goes deeper. And deeper. Harder. Rougher. His teeth clamp on my neck, enough to bring a sting, but his tongue soothes it. His grunts wash over me, and he’s taken over. His body pulls the pleasure from mine and he’s working himself into a frenzy.

  He changes angles and hits a place that detonates me. Fucking exploding. I scream. I cry. I push up against him, my nails rake his chest, my breath barely exhaling as I’m rendered speechless. “Give it to me.” He swears. What else do I have to give him?

  A hard thrust. A deep push. Another hit to the spot and I give it to him. It starts in my toes, and engulfs my entire body. Every muscle spasms, every nerve is centered in my pussy, and I quiver, shaking and experiencing a fucking miracle. Rainbows. Unicorns. Harps. Singing. A pot of gold. Mason Fucking Adler.

  “That’s it.” He grunts. His grip on my legs tighten, and he pushes in, his balls slapping my ass. “Brecklynn.” His head meets mine, his lips seal over mine, his chest crushes mine, and all is perfect in this world. Nobody could have braced me for the storm of emotions that would surface. Nothing could have braced me for what I would feel in this moment. He’s in there. Deep. My heart. My dreams. And my worst nightmare all in one.

  “You okay?” His lips ghost my jaw as my breathing tries to stabilize.

  “Mmhmm.” He’s lucky I can squeeze those sounds from my battered lungs.

  “I’ll be back.” His body exits mine, and I selfishly want to grip him back to me. The light to his bathroom basks the room in a light glow, and I stare . . . his ass, his back, his shoulders. His entire body should be bronzed and placed on display. It’s something that should be shared with the world. He returns with a warm washcloth and presses it against my core, and I flinch. “Sorry.” He kisses my shoulder, my neck, my lips.

  “It’s okay. Just stings.” I swear his chest swells, and his cocky ass smirk is more prominent. “Yes. You did that. Take off your loin cloth and cuddle me.”

  “Demanding thing, aren’t you?” He jokes but does as I ask after tossing the warm rag across the room. I suck air between my teeth, trying to mask my urge to pick it up and place it in the towel hamper. God, please tell me he has separate baskets for clothes and towels. I snap my eyes closed and release the pent-up breath. “What’s wrong?” He situates me so I’m using his chest as a pillow, and his mouth rests on top of my head.

  “You just tossed that towel to the floor.” My fingers bite into his muscles.

  “And?” He prods.

  “Do you have a separate hamper for your towels?” My face jostles as his chest moves up and down.

  “I didn’t have a hamper until Saylor started doing our laundry. Deacon ended that, so I have to haul my shit home when I need it washed. Usually in a giant trash bag.”

  “So you mix everything together?” I swear I have hives. I wonder if he has Benadryl somewhere.

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure the shit on my floor is dirty, and if it isn’t, it should be classified as that.” No. No. No. I need an inhaler. He’s forcing my lungs to seize.

  Why do I care? This is probably the only time I’ll be here. But, ew. That isn’t the way it works in my mind. “You should get more organized.”

  “And here you said you weren’t Holly Homemaker. You offering?” He pinches my ass.

  No. That chore would suggest commitment and we weren’t doing that. Were we? “Favorite color?” His voice breaks my runaway thoughts.

  “Blue.” I smile as I trace his ink. My fingers memorizing every bump and dip of his skin and muscles. “Yours?”

  “Purple.” He pushes my chin up to meet his gaze. “Yellow.” He wraps a clump of my hair around his fingers. “Red.” He takes my swollen mouth and makes it his.

  Holy. Fucking. Swoon.

  I settle us back after I finish drinking my fill from her kisses. “How we gonna handle this?” I rub my hand over her back, needing the feel of silk under my rough hands.

  “What?” She yawns as she chokes her answer.

  “What just happened here? We can’t keep it a secret.” She jerks to a sitting position.

  “Why?” She’s fucking beautiful.

  “Because I can’t quit touching you. Because I don’t want to hide it. Because when I say I want you in my bed, it means I want you in my bed.”

  I didn’t mean to sound so harsh . . . but hell. This is fucking new and isn’t pleasant for me. Goddamn feelings. “And when you don’t want me in your bed, will there be other girls filling my spot?”

  “Fuck, no.” I boom. “Where’d you get that idea?” Her eyebrows shoot up, and her head cocks.

  “You’re Mason Adler,” she deadpans.

  “I’m well aware of my name,” I mock.

  “Your exploits and reputation precede you. I haven’t started classes, and I learned about you at orientation.” That pisses me off.

  “No. You learned what people wanted to tell you. You’ve learned about the real me over the past few weeks when I’ve called and chatted with you for hours. When I sent you good morning texts. When I came close to ripping my arms off when the urge to grab you and pull you close became overwhelming. When I fucking care about your day and what makes you tick. That’s when you learned who I am, and in all that time what gave you the idea someone else was in my bed?” I’m fit to be tied. I’ve never been a relationship guy, and it’s hit me hard.

  “Whoa. Slow down. I’m sorry. You’re right. But . . .” I hate that word. “I think we should hold off sharing this.” Her finger waggles pointing back and forth. “Let’s wait until we get in the swing of things with classes and see what happens. We don’t want our fr
iends involved if it’s just working off excess energy.” As much as her cavalier attitude pisses me off, it settles me.

  I fell hard for her, but I’m unsure if it’s real. I’ve never tried this shit. I give everyone hell for it. I’m wading into water, and I’m not sure I can swim or tread, so taking it slowly is the best solution. She needs to know one thing. “I’m okay with that. But you don’t see anyone else. You don’t fuck anyone else. And don’t for one fucking second think I am.” That’s non-negotiable. She can agree willingly, or I’ll force it on her. “Clear?”

  She bites her lip. “Crystal.” I snatch her back down and curl my arm over her. Fucking right.

  “Favorite music?” She wants to continue. I’ll bite.

  “Don’t care as long as it isn’t opera shit. Or jazz.” She shakes her head. “Yours?”

  “Hello . . . from Texas. Country.”

  “And I just put your claim to fame to shame.” Shit. I didn’t mean to rhyme there.

  “What’s that Edgar Allan?” I smack her ass, and she wiggles closer.

  “Not everything is bigger in Texas. Kansas boys put yours to shame.” I waggle my eyebrows and grab my hardening dick.

  She snorts. “Oh my gawd.” She’s wiping tears, but she can’t hide the truth. I stretched her tight pussy and had her whimpering. She was satisfied.

  “I don’t need clarification, doll. I felt you.” I join her laughter, knowing I’m one hundred percent correct. “Favorite food?”

  “Steak.” I think I love her. “Yours?”

  “B.P.” I lick my lips.

  “Is that a Kansas staple I’m unaware of?” She’s clueless.

  Flipping her to her back, I push up over her. “Nah, that delicacy is just for me. Brecklynn. Pussy.” I drag my tongue down her stomach. “And I have a hankering for it. Right. Now.”

  “That can’t be fulfilling for a big guy like you.” She says the words, but her knees fall open, offering me my meal.

  “I could live off it for days.” And I will if she’ll let me. She’s in my veins. Working her way through every organ and landing in my heart. She satisfies me down to my fucking marrow and I can’t get enough. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough, and that scares the hell outta me. But I refuse to back down from fear. I’ll face it head on and beat it back with a stick.

  I can’t take her like I did the first time. She’s sore and I was a beast the first time. I work her up slow, my lips slipping between her folds and finding her clit. Sucking the nub into my mouth, I use my tongue to tease her entrance. Her writhing and moaning has me hard as steel, but I need her to come first.

  I give extra attention. I give her my all. Gentle licks. Easy nips. Lazy strokes until she comes, coating my tongue. I’m lapping every drop as I cover my dick and ease inside of her. Gripping her hands, I pull her arms over her head and sink all the way in.

  I stare in her eyes as I push in and pull out. Nice. Steady. Slow. My orgasm hits me fast and hard— as I go under, I pull her with me.

  As soon as I find the ringing I’m tossing it out the window. I bang against my nightstand and knock over the box of condoms, the water; I hook her panties and finally find the phone. Glancing at the time, I accept the call. “What the hell! It’s eight in the morning.” My voice is hoarse and froggy.

  “Mason, it’s Brody.” Fuck. He can’t know his sister is in my bed already. “Can you run me back to the reception hall to grab my car. I’m next door.” Brecklynn shuffles next to me, and I cover her mouth and the mouthpiece.

  “It’s your brother.” I shift so I can get some distance from her octopus-like grip. My body protests, and my brain isn’t fully functioning on all cylinders . . . so my thoughts aren’t coherent.

  “Uh, sure. Give me a few minutes.” I regret the words as they slip from my mouth.

  “If you don’t want this blown to smithereens, stay in my bed.” I growl, and her deer in the headlights look hits me in the gut. This isn’t the way I pictured waking her up, and I shouldn’t have agreed to it. She grabs my shirt from the end of the bed and covers herself.

  “Fuck.” I hear her curse as I throw some clothes on and head outside so I can cut him off before he comes to my door. I jog out the door, eyeing Brody and looking back to Brecklynn to make sure she isn’t visible. Shit. I forgot to give her a kiss, and I can see she’s freaked.

  “Just come on. I’m sure your fuck doll will be there when you get home.” His words cause instant anger. Who the fuck does he think he is?

  I stop walking and ball my fists, ready to punch him. “You can be a dick to me all you want, but keep your mouth shut about the girl in there.” I make my way to him until mere inches separate us.

  “Whoa. Sorry. I’m a dick.” He steps back to avoid my reach and looks over my shoulder, trying to peer in the house.

  “Yeah, you are. Let’s go.” He stares at me, not moving a muscle. “This isn’t a date, Princess, I’m not opening your door.” Finally, he fucking moves. His ass hits the seat and I hit the gas.

  “Easy, Dale Jr. Can I make sure my arms and legs are inside the ride?” Smart-ass. He’s lucky he’s sitting in my truck after his stunt last night and his mouth this morning.

  “Fuck off. I don’t know why I agreed to take you anywhere.” My body is trembling, fighting the urge to throw him from a moving vehicle. Manslaughter isn’t a charge I need. In this case, it’d be murder because I’m for sure pre-meditating his demise. Plus, it wouldn’t score any points with his sister. Just thinking of her causes my body to seize.

  “Because you love Emberlee.” He’s got a point. Does he? “Sorry for last night. It isn’t easy but I’m trying to deal.” He bends forward and I watch his movement so he can’t sucker punch me if that’s his next move. Oh shit. Forgot that detail. He sits up with Brecklynn’s heel dangling from his finger. “Why is my sister’s shoe in your car?”

  I’m not a trained liar. I can’t think on the fly. My eyes widen, and I cough. “I gave her a ride home last night.” Did I ever. “She was upset over the scene you caused, and I didn’t want her driving.” I see his face slack and scrunch. Good, I’m making him feel like shit for his actions last night.

  “Where is she?” His phone is poised in his hand to call . . . someone, I assume Brecklynn, so I panic.

  “Your apartment. She wanted to be there for you.” Oh damn it. He can’t go there. I pull up to his car and wrack my brain. Why did I answer his call?

  “Thanks. And I hope we can put last night behind us.” He seems sincere and offers his hand to seal the truce.

  I accept and try to bide some time to get Brecklynn back where I said she was. “Let me know if you need help getting everyone’s car home.” His and Brecklynn’s are here. He ponders and drops his phone.

  “Thanks. See ya.” He climbs in his car and puts his phone to his ear. I dial her and transfer it to Bluetooth.

  Thank God she answers her phone when it rings. “Hey. I’m hurrying back. He found your shoes. I covered.” I need to calm down. We’re both adults. “Fuck it. I told him you were at the apartment, but I don’t want to lie. I want us to go all in.” I need to turn in my man card. Shit, I used to be the keeper of them, now I’m surrendering. But how sweet that surrender is.

  “No, Mason.” Two words crush me. Fine, fuck this. She isn’t going to turn me into a pussy if she doesn’t want me. I don’t play that game.

  “Fine. I’ll be in the driveway in ten. Hurry so I can get you to your apartment.” I hang up to avoid pleading with her for a chance. I refuse to be the one to demand she make a choice.

  I’ll come up with a plan that makes her putty in my hands, and she’ll rent a plane to skywrite that shit. ‘I belong to Mason Fucking Adler.’ I might consider having my name tattooed on her. It’ll make her feel better.

  Plan made. Now, to implement it.

  I’m so tired of sneaking and hiding our relationship. We act like we don’t know each other outside the group. We arrive and leave separate when we go to dinner with f
riends— or any outings that we have together. She sneaks in the house . . . to my bed when everyone is turned in for the night, and I’m getting sick of this shit.

  Orgasms don’t sway her.

  Presents don’t change her mind.

  I’ll try begging. But in private. She isn’t gonna sully my reputation if she doesn’t comply. Stubborn as a fucking mule that one. Her attitude is definitely from Texas . . . bigger than anything I’ve dealt with.

  “All summer we’ve been keeping this on the down low. I’m over it.” My arms are crossed, and I flex a bit to soften her up. She loves my body— and vice fucking versa.

  “Just wait a few weeks. School starts next week, and I need to adjust without throwing this drama front and center. Brody will flip, and it isn’t the time.” Her beautiful face softens my hard stance . . . I’m a sucker for her.

  “Then I’m taking you on a date. It’s a compromise.” I’m not hard to work with.

  She sputters and trips. “How is a date a compromise? If someone sees you, they’ll run their mouth. It’s fucking noon. What is this date gonna consist of?”

  That one there is a walking contradiction. No way in hell are we going on a date. Oh, okay, where? I feel like I’ve been in a car accident with the whiplash. “Food. Conversation. No different than we’ve been doing the last fucking month, but outside these walls.”

  “Okay.” I can’t believe how much that one word makes me feel. I know I’m a risk, hell, she hasn’t had a relationship either, but girls have a sixth sense regarding this stuff.

  “Really?” That sounded straight-up pussy. Next thing you know we’ll be getting coffee and pedicures.

  “Yes,” her smile eases all my un-manly feelings.