Karma (Endgame Series Book 3)

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Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 7

by Leigh Ann Lunsford


  “I miss you,” he whines. He needs to stay far from Julie. My precious girl doesn’t need bad habits.

  “You just saw me.” I roll my eyes.

  “Stop rolling your eyes at me.” I laugh. Busted. “You were sick. I didn’t get my quality Brecklynn time.”

  “You mean you didn’t get laid.” I can smell what he’s stepping in.

  “That, too. But I miss you. Upright. Coherent. Not heaving every five minutes.” I sigh.

  “Mason, you’ve paraded me around campus for a week like I’m Miss America. I think you forgot the crown.” He’s wearing me down.

  “In between classes and an occasional lunch isn’t the same. Come over.” He’s so damn cute. And I can’t say no.

  “Let me finish this edit, and I’ll be there.”

  “Bring your computer and finish it here. I know you. It’ll be five hours, and you still won’t have it perfect.” His astute perception is spot on.

  “Fine. See you in a few.” I hang up, but I swear I heard him drop the “L” word. Followed by you. And that word wasn’t followed by making. Because we don’t do that— we fuck. We have sex. We don’t do that “L” thing.

  I jot a note for Brody and Lee Lee and pack my stuff. An overnight bag because I know he won’t let me leave. This will be a test for my brother. One I’m sure he will fail.

  I pull into his driveway, haul my stuff to the door and knock.

  And knock.

  And knock.

  Caden swings the door open and barrels into me. He knocks me off balance, and my stuff goes smashing to the ground. Smashing. As in, my computer is in pieces. My ass stings and I have gravel in my palms but I don’t care. My laptop is smithereens. “Holy shit, Brecklynn. Are you okay? I didn’t see you there.” He’s bending down trying to assess if I’m injured.

  “I’m fine,” my voice wavers. I don’t know how I’ll afford another laptop and I can’t ask Brody. He has a kid coming. My mom is out of the question; she’s able to afford to live since she finished school and deserves to pamper herself. It’s high time.

  “You sure?” Sudden anger bursts through me.

  “I’m fine. My laptop on the other hand isn’t. Can’t you watch where you’re going?” Instant humiliation hits me. He didn’t do anything wrong and if anyone knows Caden they know he wouldn’t hurt a flea. “I’m sorry, Caden. God, I’m such a bitch.”

  “Hey, no crying allowed.” He picks up all my stuff and holds his hand to help me up. “I’m sorry. I’ll replace your computer.”

  Embarrassment floods me. “No. No you won’t. It was an accident. I have this.”

  “We’ll see. Mason’s inside playing X-box. You sure you’re okay?” He sets my stuff inside the front door.

  “I’m fine.” He narrows his eyes.

  “When girls say ‘I’m fine,’ it’s code for something else. Want to hit me?” Is this a guy’s solution for everything?

  “No. Didn’t you hear me knocking?”

  “Nah. Mason’s got that game so loud, and I was showering. I was leaving when I knocked you down.” He brushes some dirt off my shoulder. “You don’t have to knock. He’s expecting you and you’re one of us. Just open the door and come in.”

  I shake my head. “Eh, we’ll see. Go. Have fun.” I don’t need to tell him twice . . . he’s gone.

  I head to the living room and see my overgrown toddler sprawled in a gaming chair, cussing at some poor unsuspecting middle-schooler while heisting someone on GTA. “Hey.” I wave.

  He shuts everything down and is on his feet in front of me in an instant. His arms wrap me up, his lips seal to mine, and he kisses me senseless. “That’s how we say ‘hey.’” I do like his way better.

  But I’m still irritated. Or upset. I have a huge project due next week, and I’ll have to use the library during all my spare time. I should be there now. If he’d have answered his damn door. “Did you invite me . . . or beg me to come over?”

  “I wouldn’t say beg. Strongly hinted I needed to see you.” His cute wink and smart mouth isn’t working for him.

  “So when I stood outside knocking and knocking is there a reason you didn’t answer the door?” He looks perplexed. I’ll break it down for him. “Yes, there was. Because your damn video game was more important than listening for the door. Instead, I stood outside like a solicitor waiting for you to answer. With my arms full. So happens Caden was leaving in a hurry. So he was kind enough to open the door for me and send me falling to my ass. With all my stuff. All. Of. It.” My cheeks are hot, and I’m sent to a fit of coughing with my diatribe.

  “Are you hurt?” His concern would usually have me swooning. This time it doesn’t.

  “My laptop is in pieces at your front door. So yeah, I’m hurt. As a matter of fact, you’re hurting too. Blue balls. Get used to them. I’ll be spending all my free time at the library using their computer for a project that is due in four days.” I try to stomp off, but it isn’t an easy feat when he has a hold of my arm.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Use my computer. And next time, just come in. You don’t need to knock, Doll. You’re always welcome.” His earnest attitude doesn’t placate me.

  “Your laptop doesn’t have the editing programs the college requires. And next time, open the fucking door!” I stomp my foot and ridicule myself. I’m taking his child-like behaviors to a new level with my attitude.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” Oh, I’m infuriated.

  “Mason, that isn’t a solution. Money isn’t a solution. Let go of me.” He grants my request, and I leave as fast as I came in. Grabbing my shit and heading to the library for an all-nighter. I need to get in front of this assignment because with a full course load and down a computer to finish work at home, this will be a tough feat to pull off.

  I can’t concentrate. I took my humiliation and lack of financial security out on Mason. He doesn’t flaunt his wealth, or acknowledge it in any way. None of them do, and it makes me feel like an ass for behaving the way I did. I step outside to call my mom.

  “Hey, baby.” She answers after the first ring.

  “Hey, Momma. How’s it going?” I try to sound chipper.

  “I’m fine, Brecklynn. You’re calling me at ten at night, so what’s wrong? Is everyone safe?” She’s fretting and I feel bad for calling so late.

  “We’re all fine here. So you excited about being a grandma?” I know Brody and Emberlee told her last weekend after she let it slip to her parents.

  “Yes. As long as you promise to wait ten or so years. I’m happy Brody and Emberlee figured their stuff.” I know she’ll be a doting grandmother and maybe this will spur her to move here. With a bun in the oven, I can’t live with them forever. “Now why are you calling?”

  “I had an accident . . .”

  “Oh gracious. Are you okay? Do I need to get a flight? Why didn’t your brother call me?”

  “Mom. Breathe.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I fell and it broke my laptop. I have this huge project due and I don’t want to ask Brody for money. I was wondering if you had any to spare, and I’m going to get a job so I can pay you back, and I don’t have to rely on you and Brody.” Growing up sucks.

  “Now you breathe, young lady. I’ll transfer money to your account and have you added to my credit card and send one to you. I don’t know why we didn’t do this before you left. I know you get a stipend from your dad’s insurance, but I can’t believe I didn’t think of stuff like this.” I hate how regretful she’s being.

  “You just gave me the computer for graduation. You couldn’t have known. I’m still gonna look for a job. I need to start being independent.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. You’re there to concentrate on school. I can help.” My throat clogs, and I try to push past the emotion.

  “Mom, you’ve just gotten to a point in your life where it isn’t about your kids. Pamper yourself. Don’t spend your money for our stuff.” If she could see herself through my eyes . . . the sacrifices, the working odd jobs
, the love she has for us.

  “Brecklynn, don’t argue with your momma. I have something to tell you.” My heart drops.

  “You aren’t pregnant, are you?” She scoffs on the other end.

  “Bite your tongue. Richard has moved in, so I have the extra money. I want to start giving you money towards rent and stuff. Brody is going to have a baby to support, and it isn’t his job to take care of you.” There goes the idea of her moving here.

  I’m disappointed for myself but happy for her. “I’m gonna talk to Brody. I think I’m gonna move into the dorms. It’s covered by my scholarship, and that way he and Lee Lee can have the apartment to themselves.”

  “Don’t make any rash decisions. Talk to your brother. If you want to live in the dorms, that’s one thing. Don’t do it because you feel you’re in the way. I know so much has changed in a short time but your brother loves you. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “Oh, Momma. I know.” And I did. That hadn’t dawned on me. Brody is making a life, which includes a new family, but he’s never made me feel like he didn’t have time for me. Sometimes he’s laser-focused with my coming and goings. I’m ready for that to change.

  “I’ll transfer the money and send you a card. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I can’t wait for the holidays . . . they are months off, but the thought is keeping me sane.

  Heading back inside to work wasn’t an option, so I drive to Mason’s to apologize. To grovel. To perform lewd sexual acts while begging for forgiveness. Except all the lights are off and no cars are in the driveway. I call, no answer. At a loss, I head back to the apartment wracking my brain how I can fix what I fucked up.

  Dropping all my stuff, I sink down against the couch cushions and pout. And stew. Wondering where he is, if I blew it. He said relationships come to girls naturally, but I’m so outta my element it isn’t comical.

  “You had a visitor.” Lee Lee scares me.

  “Oh, shit. Don’t sneak up on people like that.” She giggles and sits next to me.

  “Mason was here, and I’ve never seen him worked up like that. Wanna talk?”

  “No.” I did, but I don’t want her involved. “I was just at his house, but he wasn’t home.”

  “Y’all probably passed each other. He left a few minutes before you got home.” Damn it.

  “He told me what happened, and even though I tell your brother to stay out of y’all’s business . . . I can’t bite my tongue. You hurt him.” She’s disappointed in me, and I don’t fault her.

  “I know. It was stupid. I’m swimming upstream here and have no path in sight.” I admit. Everything is crashing down in one fell swoop. The move. Brody and Emberlee. School. Mason. Missing my mom. None of those things are bad . . . they’re happening all at once.

  “I’ll just tell you if brains were gasoline, you couldn’t run a piss ant’s go-car two laps around a Cheerio. You pitched a tantrum over an accident. I know we’re all new to you, but you’re family, so I’ll call you out when you’re wrong. And you were wrong.”

  “I know. But can you save the hick euphemisms for someone who gets them? That took me a bit to process,” I tease her. “But I get it. This is why I wanted to keep things light with Mason.”

  “And if you hadn’t labeled it a relationship, would you have gone to him when he called?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the same thing would have happened. Labels didn’t do this. You did. Your pride. Your stubbornness. Your fear to admit the truth. You’ve fallen in love.”

  “Hush. Bite your tongue, and don’t say that to me. I can’t love him.”

  “Is this because of your past? He won’t care. Well, he will, but in a different way,” she assures me.

  “He knows. I told him at the party. I had a meltdown, and he got me through it.” I admit and lean into her body.

  “How’d he react?” She’s unsure.

  “He wanted to round up everyone within a four-state vicinity, fly to Texas, and ‘handle it.’ Like Brody. He reacted like Brody.” I see the light.

  “And that isn’t a bad thing. Not always.” She stands and leaves me in the dark room pondering what I can do to fix this.

  My bedroom lamp is glowing, and in the middle of my bed is a box with a card.

  Doll,

  I’m sorry. For what, I don’t know, but my actions made you mad, and I only want your happiness. Well, I’ll take any of your moods, but I want to make you happy. And beat up whoever makes you sad. It’s hard kicking my own ass, so can you come do it?

  Mace

  He’s fucking perfect. For me. I rip open the box and gasp. Holy fuckanoli.

  A Macbook Air. He bought me a top of the line laptop and according to the paper attached to it he bought every editing app I’ll need. I grab my purse and leave.

  I have one place I need to be.

  I sure hope his sperm doesn’t make me sick again because for this gift, I’m gonna have to swallow.

  He bought me a laptop. And he thought I was mad at him.

  Mason fucking Adler is setting my world on fire.

  And I’m prepared to go down in flames because I’m not moving from this spot.

  Flipping her crazy switch like she did has me all unnerved. I’m struggling if I can do this.

  The ups and downs.

  The back and forth.

  The ebb and flow.

  I’ll need medication for sure. I can give her the time, the reassurances she needs for the time being, but when baseball starts full-time, I won’t have a lot to offer, and I’m wondering if we should just let the embers burn. It was a fun ride, and I’ll miss the hell outta her but I can’t have the distractions when the season starts. I can’t run after her to console her after a fight or misunderstanding.

  Confused. She has me discombobulated, and if I hadn’t given Deacon so much shit for being pussy-whipped, I’d go to him for advice. Add in the fact she hung up when I tried the ‘I love you’ line, and he’ll hand me my balls in a pink purse. I’d still rock that look. I’m secure enough to pull off pink and ruffles.

  The front door opens, and I hope I’ll be able to cajole Caden into an X-box marathon. I need to kill some shit— blow it to shards.

  Scratch each and every thought I just had.

  I can do this.

  I will do this.

  For her.

  For me.

  For us.

  Because she’s standing in my living room, contrite look across her face, eyes searching for some assurances, and I’m the man to give them to her. “Come here, Doll.” She doesn’t fucking hesitate.

  “I’m sorry.” Her frame shimmies in my lap, and her words and lips are a soothing balm. “I was stupid. Can I blame it on hormones?”

  “Sure, if you promise me it’ll only happen once a month. I have a feeling I’ll fuck-up many more times, so you gonna hold your tongue all those other times?” I lean in and nibble her lips.

  “Holding my tongue isn’t my strong suit.” She returns the nips and thrusts her tongue in my mouth.

  I get lost in her kiss for a few moments and decide to take this Regret Ride to my bedroom— and it’ll be one hell of a ride. “You’re right. That isn’t your strong suit. And once I’ve had you every which way I can think of, we’ll get to what the hell happened.”

  “Deal,” she’s breathless and ripping my shirt up my body as I carry us both to my room.

  Placing her down, I peruse her body, discerning the ways I’ll take her. “Clothes off.”

  She obeys.

  Standing in front of me, stripped bare for my eyes. My hands. My lips. My body. I shuck my clothes off in rapid speed and run my hands up her sides, skating over the sides of her breasts and watch her nipples pucker. “What do you want Brecklynn?” I bite her earlobe and tug. My tongue trails down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, down the valley of her breasts.

  “You. I want everything you give me.” Her hands trail my arms, up my torso, down my abs.
>
  “Damn straight.” I flick her nipple with my tongue, and her mewl hardens my dick to the point of pain. “Turn and bend over.”

  She submits.

  I trace a path down her spine, and her hands grip my comforter. She’s bent, using the bed for support, and turns to look at me over her shoulder. “I need you, Mason.”

  “You’ll have me. When I’m done with you.” I drop to my knees and bury my face in her pussy. Her arms buckle, and her elbows hit the bed, pushing her dripping core firmer against my face and her ass in the air for my hand.

  I use one hand to knead her plump rear while slipping a finger inside her wet folds. I push and hook and wait for her hips to fall into rhythm with my finger and tongue. Letting go of her ass to get better leverage, I spear my tongue and pull her down. Fucking her with my mouth has become a treat I don’t want to miss, and her screams spur me to give her everything I have. Removing my tongue and sinking two fingers inside her, I flick and suck her clit until she shakes, incoherent words flying from her mouth as she comes all over my face.

  She’s pulling her pussy from me, and I didn’t say I was done. I smack her ass and command her. “Still.”

  She complies.

  And I go back to eating my fill of her. I go with a gentle assault of her clit; it’s engorged and ripe for the picking. Soft, slow licks, easy sucks, and a finger hooking the spot that blasts her to the bliss I crave to bring her.

  “Oh God, Mason.” My two favorite words in a sentence. All that’s left is getting her to utter that forbidden word.

  Anal.

  I try my luck and massage her ass, letting my finger linger over her hole, and she pushes back into me. Sucking my finger in my mouth and coating it with her juices, I ease it in and let her ride my finger while my mouth works the other end. In minutes she’s going off, screaming loud enough that Deacon will high-five me in the morning.

  I don’t work her down, standing and entering her in a hard and punishing push. “Fuck.” I withdraw and fumble in my nightstand for a condom. Cover your trout and make her shout is my motto.

 

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