Sarah Curtis - Pursuing (Alluring Book 3)

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Sarah Curtis - Pursuing (Alluring Book 3) Page 11

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  "What are you doing, Angel?" She looked up at Mase's sexy, sleep-scratchy voice and found drowsy eyes watching her. He reached out and lightly swiped a finger down her cheek.

  She quickly ducked her head and continued to wipe at his chest until his chuckle drew her attention again. "Angel, did you drool on me?"

  She knew her cheeks had to be beet red. They felt as if they were on fire. God, how embarrassing. "I guess it's only fair to tell you that I do tend to drool when I sleep." She ducked her head again, hoping her hair hid her face.

  "Come here." He planted his hands under her arms, pulling her all the way atop him. He slid his fingers through her hair, dragging it away from her face before bringing her head down to lightly brush a kiss across her lips. "Sweetheart, I would endure more than a little drool to have you sleep in my arms all night."

  "Well, as far as I know, that's my only sleep transgression, so you should be safe."

  He chuckled again, bringing her head down for a long, deep kiss this time. "How are you feeling?"

  Jo thought a moment. Things down south were a bit tender. She gave a little test stretch and noticed a slight soreness in places she didn't even realize she had muscles. She gave Mase a playful smile. "If you're asking for a specific reason and not just to inquire about my health, then I would say, if you're gentle with me I should be okay."

  He moved his hands down her back, over her ass to the back of her upper thighs, drawing them apart so she straddled his hips. "How about if you take the reins this time."

  "Ooh, a horse-riding metaphor." She did a little hip shimmy. "Shall I slap your ass and say, giddyup horsey?"

  Mase gave a bark of laughter. "Any and all ass slapping will be done exclusively by me."

  She gave him a little pout. "Party pooper."

  "Be good, little girl, or I'll go collect those heart-shaped handcuffs and fasten you to the bed. You'll be totally at my mercy. I may even make you my sex slave."

  "Pfft, I don't need you. I have a thirty-six-inch weenie waiting for me at home."

  "Sweetheart, I hate to break this to you, but there's no way in hell that six-inch plastic dick is growing to six times the size."

  "See! You are a party pooper," she said, giving his shoulder a playful punch. "Geez, a girl can dream, can't she?"

  "Angel, you don't have to dream. I've got ten inches ready, willing, and able for you right here." He bucked his hips, and she grabbed his shoulders to keep balance.

  "Oh, so you're not a horsey, you're a bucking bronco. Good to know."

  Mase slid his fingers through her hair once more, pulling her head down so there were only a few inches separating them. "What I'm going to be is a man with blue balls if you don't slide yourself on my dick in the next few seconds."

  "Well, we can't have that now, can we?" She reached between them, taking hold of his cock and gliding its head through her folds, rubbing it through her wetness a few times before planting herself firmly at its tip and slowly sliding down.

  He moved his hands to her inner thighs, rubbing down to her knees then back almost to her center, stopping to tease the sensitive line of flesh at the crease. Who knew that was an erogenous zone? She worked herself faster, sliding up and down his length. So close, she was so close. His fingers found her clit and that was all it took. She detonated. She threw herself forward, burying her face in his neck, breathing hard while still sliding up and down, enjoying the tiny aftershocks.

  Mase grabbed her hips and forced her down while he surged up one last time before becoming still. They lay there quietly, Mase softly brushing his fingers up and down her back. It felt good, almost lulling her back to sleep. Then she remembered. In a panic, she scrambled off Mase and rolled off the bed.

  "What the hell? Where are you going?"

  Jo found her discarded panties laying on the floor. She scooped them up and put them on before replying, "I don't want to be here when Kyle wakes up. I'm going back to my room."

  "Jo, he's not going to care. He doesn't understand what's going on."

  Jo tugged her tank over her head then placed her hands on her hips. "They know a lot more than you think they do. Besides, I told him just the other night that only mommies and daddies sleep together."

  Mase sighed, flopping back against his pillow. "Fine."

  Jo leaned forward as she stepped into her shorts, her hair concealing her smile. "No need to pout. You got your morning nookie."

  "Yes, but I didn't get my morning snuggle."

  She laughed as she stood upright. Mase had his arms tucked behind his head, a big grin on his face. "How about, I owe you one."

  "Deal." He grabbed his phone of the end table and tapped at the screen.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm writing this shit down. Don't want to forget."

  Jo shook her head as she headed for the door.

  "Hey," Mase called out to her.

  She stopped, turning her head to look at him.

  "When Kyle wakes up, I'll take you both out for breakfast. I never got to do that yesterday."

  She gave him a smirk. "I don't eat breakfast."

  "Babe, it's the most important meal of the day."

  She supposed, being an athlete, he would be concerned with nutrition. "I prefer a liquid breakfast."

  "You drink protein shakes?" He asked, with raised brows.

  Her smirk turned into a smile as she shook her head. "Nope, coffee."

  *

  Mase stared at his closed bedroom door long after Jo had quietly exited. He knew he should get up. Kyle would awaken soon, and he still needed to take a shower, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to the events from last night. She'd surprised the hell out of him with her proposition, and although it might have been a lot easier to get her into bed than he'd thought it would be, he, by no means, thought the battle was over. No, the true battle had just begun. The battle to convince Jo the two of them belonged together. Not just as a fling as she so obviously thought, but together in a way they would always be together. The getting married and having babies kind of together. The growing old and spoiling grandkids kind of together. Because last night, he'd marked his territory with his mouth and his cock. She belonged to him now, and he sure as hell would never let her go.

  He had known the moment he'd seen her, she was the one. Like a bolt coming down from the sky, he'd been zapped. He'd seen his future, and it was a brown haired, five-foot-nothing angel with big, brown eyes. Hell, maybe Cupid was real because it sure as fuck felt as though he'd been struck by love's arrow.

  Love. Funny that he should feel that emotion after only a few days, and the idea of it should scare the fuck out of him, but he actually felt great. It was the same feeling he'd had when he'd been the number-one draft pick his final year of college, and he'd signed his contract with the Pursuers. At the time, he'd felt his life had purpose and meaning, and he had that same feeling now with Jo. She brought a renewed sense of direction to his life.

  He jumped out of bed, energized with a new sense of purpose and ready to begin his new life. His life with Jo.

  *

  "Tell me again why you picked this restaurant?" Jo asked, staring in awe at the standing-room-only lobby packed tightly with people. Not being a breakfast eater, even she knew this was the popular hot spot for Sunday brunch that the thirty-minute wait Mase had been told when he gave his name to the hostess could attest to.

  He leaned in (and let's face it, he didn't have in lean far, they were that scrunched together) and whispered two words into her ear. "Babe, pancakes."

  Jo shook her head. She had Kyle pressed against her legs, her arm wrapped around the front of his chest. "Maybe we should wait outside," she said, the large crowd and deafening noise, making her feel a bit claustrophobic.

  "Let me see how much longer."

  "They just said it would be a half hour. Too long to wait in here. Come on." She grabbed his arm and shuffle-inched her way to the door. Once outside, even though it was already ninety degre
es, she still took in an appreciated lungful of fresh, hot air. More people milled around the front of the restaurant, and she figured they'd be lucky if it were only a thirty-minute wait until they were seated.

  The restaurant was located in a strip mall and had the typical stores you would expect, except one. A comic book store a few shops over. She reached for Kyle's hand. "Hey bud, you ever read a comic book before?"

  The interior of the store felt refreshingly cool after being out in the heat and had the distinct musty smell of old books. One of the best smells in the world. Jo took a deep breath, a big smile on her face as she did a slow turn, taking in all the sights. Goodness, she didn't know where to start first. Her eyes zeroed in on a large stack of comics when a picture of Betty and Veronica drew her eye. She looked around and saw Mase had led Kyle to the other side of the store, their heads bent together over a book, so she quickly made a beeline to the Archie comics.

  Deep in comic book concentration, Jo noticed movement in her peripheral vision and lifted her head to see Mase squatting in front of her. She'd made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the floor, neat piles of the comics she'd sorted through, surrounding her.

  "Table's ready." He smiled as he noticed her piles and gave them a nod. "What's all this?"

  "These," Jo said, with a wave over the many stacks, "are vintage Archie comics." She gave him a small smile. "When I was about ten, I went to California to spend the summer at my aunt's house. My cousin was twelve at the time, and I thought she was just the shit. I spent the whole summer trying to emulate her." She gave him a bigger smile, shaking her head at the silliness of her little girl antics. "Anyway, she had a huge collection of Archie comics, and I spent the whole summer reading them all." She chuckled and stood, wiping her palms down her butt to dust herself off. "Seeing these brought back some good memories."

  She and Mase quickly cleaned up her mess before the three headed for the restaurant. She felt a tug on her hand and glanced back at Mase, who'd stopped walking.

  "You two go grab our table. I'll be there in a minute."

  She gave him a curious look. "Where are you going?"

  "I just remembered, I have to make a quick phone call. I won't be long."

  The restaurant was as crowded and noisy as she remembered, and they unfortunately were seated at a table and chairs smack in the center of the room and not in a booth. The hostess handed them their menus and asked if she wanted coffee, which she pounced on with a please and a thank you.

  After they'd gotten situated, she nodded to the bag Kyle had placed on the table. "What did you get?"

  He excitedly pulled out a handful of comics. "Uncle Mase got me The Hulk, Superman, Spiderman, and The Flash." He handed them to her, grinning.

  "Wow, these are pretty cool. We'll read them before we go to bed tonight."

  Kyle nodded, taking the comics and slipping them back into the bag. Mase joined them a moment later. She noticed most eyes were on him as he sat and picked up a menu. She was still trying to get used to the idea of being out in public with someone famous. Mase took it in stride, didn't even seem to notice everyone staring. She supposed he'd be used to it. After all, he's been a quarterback for the Pursuers for over seven years. A long time in the sporting world, she was sure. She, on the other hand, found the attention a bit unnerving.

  "You guys decide what you want?" Mase asked, placing his menu on the table.

  "Pancakes!"

  Mase smiled at Kyle. "Boy after my own heart." He looked over at Jo. "And what about you?"

  Jo picked up her menu and gave it a quick scan. "Um..." She looked up. Mase was watching her. He had a look on his face that she'd never seen before. If she had to describe it, she would say, he almost looked dreamy (in a totally masculine way, of course). She cleared her throat and looked back down at her menu before saying, "I'm not sure what I want. I don't usually eat this early."

  "Why don't you order some eggs and fruit. That's light. You'll eat what you can."

  Jo set the menu down and smiled. "Okay, that sounds good."

  Mase captured the hand she'd laid on the table and gave it a squeeze. She expected him to pull away, but he didn't. He held on to her hand, making idle chitchat with Kyle until their food arrived.

  Through it all, Jo watched Mase. She listened to the easy way he conversed with Kyle, seeming to never run out of five-year-old topics. She watched the different smiles that played across his face and realized he had many, and they were all fantastic. She watched the way his muscles flexed with his tiny movements, reminding her of last night and the strength and power he possessed while he held her in his arms. And as she watched the many looks he gave her, the small, secret smiles, and the subtle winks, she realized she liked Mase, liked him a lot and hoped she hadn't made a big mistake.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jo glanced down at the glowing red dot on her chest. Son of a... She peeked around the side of the couch she crouched behind, but the room was empty. She looked back down at her chest, the red dot still remained. What the...? Then she looked up and to the right. Mase smiled down at her from the upper floor balcony. The little red glowing light came from the white and silver futuristic looking laser-tag gun he held in his right hand. He gave her a slight finger wave right before he shot her.

  The black, laser tag vest she wore made a horrendous buzzing noise. She jumped up, dashing to the bottom of the stairs. She pointed a threatening finger at him. "You're dead meat, mister!"

  He cocked his elbow, bringing the muzzle of the gun to his lips, blowing on the tip. Cocky bastard. "I've killed you five times already. When are you going to face the fact that I'm a laser-tag god."

  They'd been playing for hours. Kyle, the smart one, had admitted defeat about an hour ago and was currently enjoying a bowl of ice cream while lazing on the couch watching cartoons. Jo gnashed her teeth and gave him a laser-eyed glare. Sadly, it didn't vaporize him on the spot.

  His smile widened. "All you have to do to end this torture is admit defeat."

  She continued to silently glare at him.

  He holstered (yes, the big doofus had a holster) his laser gun and started toward her, down the stairs. He stopped a few stairs above her, making him taller than his already normally tall. He crossed his arms and looked down at her with an exaggerated frown. "Sweetheart, you wouldn't be a sore loser now, would you?"

  She raised her chin, crossed her own arms, and gave him a duplicate frown. "Well, I don't like to lose, but I'm usually not a sore loser," she gave him another evil glare, "unless there are conditions that go with the loss."

  His lips tipped up at the corners. "Well now, it wouldn't be a true defeat unless you said the magic words. Come on, it's not that hard. Repeat after me. I, Jo Welch, hereby solemnly swear that Mason Connor is the undisputed world champion of laser-tag, and I kneel before his greatness."

  Jo snorted, "You're an ass."

  Mase swooped down, hugging her about the waist, and giving her a little wiggle. "But, baby, you've gotta say it."

  Jo couldn't prevent the giggle that escaped, nor the small smile that formed on her lips. "You're a nut!"

  With feet firmly planted on the floor, he twirled her in a circle. "Saaay it," he growled, into her neck.

  Jo tipped her head back and laughed. "Never!"

  Mase came to a sudden stop. He placed her back on her feet but still held her about the waist. His expression turned serious as he looked down at her. "What?" she asked, in a breathy whisper.

  His hands cupped her face and his body pressed in closer. His eyes studied her, roaming her face. "You're so fucking beautiful. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

  Oh, my. She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. What was he doing to her? She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. This intense moment, right now, is not what they were. They were in a silly and fun, only enjoying each other for now, type of relationship. Nothing more. She had to get them back to that.

  She g
ave him a coquettish smile, batting her eyelashes for added effect. "Okay, Ace, you win. With pretty words like that, how can a gal refuse?" He narrowed his eyes, totally seeing through her game. "I, Jo Welch–"

  She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Startled, she gave him a genuine smile, this time, along with a light laugh. "Saved by the bell." She swiped imaginary sweat from her brow. "Whew, that was a close one."

  He gave her a smirk, shaking his head before releasing her to go answer the door. She watched him walk away (okay in all fairness maybe the correct word should be ogled), sighed, and turned to pop upstairs to check on Kyle when she heard Mase call out to her. Changing direction mid-step, she made her way to the front of the house.

  Mase stood in front of the closed front door, a fairly large box at his feet. He looked up at her approach and smiled. He waved at the box. "It's for you."

  She frowned at the box. She didn't order anything, and even if she did, it wouldn't have been delivered here. What the...? "What is it?"

  "Open it and see."

  Jo gave Mase a questioning look. He had a grin from ear to ear, his arms were folded across his chest, and his feet were planted widely on the floor. He tipped his head in a nod, obviously impatient. Clearly, this was all his doing. She squatted beside the box and used her thumb nail to slice the tape that secured the flaps.

  She was not expecting the sight that greeted her. Archie comics. There had to be hundreds of them. The box was not small. She looked up at Mase in shock. This must have cost him thousands of dollars. "When..." She shook her head, still in a bit of a daze. "Why?" And then she did something really embarrassing and totally stupid. She broke out in tears.

  *

  Mase looked down at Jo in horror. Shit. He didn't mean to make her cry. He stood, paralyzed for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. He didn't have much experience, dealing with crying women. On the rare occasions he'd seen his mom or sister cry, his dad or brother-in-law had been around to take care of things.

  Fuck it. He might not know what to do, but he sure as hell wasn't leaving her sitting on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks. He scooped her into his arms then walked them into the living room where he plopped down onto the couch, cradling her in his lap. She laid her head on his chest as he held her close and tight. Her tears had stopped and now all he heard was an occasional sniffle.

 

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