by Unknown
His slow and steady pace was maddening, but at the same time, working her to such a high, she knew her orgasm would be explosive. His whispered words, spoken so tenderly, brought tears to her eyes and she buried her face in his neck, her arms and legs hugging him to her tighter.
A bright, white light flashed behind her lids as her orgasm rolled through her, seeming to last forever. She gasped, digging her heels into his back as she chanted, "Don't stop," into his ear. Her whole body shuddered before going completely limp as Mase surged into her a few more strokes, finding his own release.
Chapter Seventeen
They were snuggled in bed, freshly showered and drowsy. Jo couldn't help but think, this was their last night together. Mase's sister was returning tomorrow. Oh, she knew their relationship wasn't over but living together was.
Strangely, she would miss it. She'd never lived with anyone besides her parents, and she'd always thought when the time came, she would need to make major adjustments. But things seemed to click naturally between Mase and her and other than the fact he liked to drink beverages straight from their containers, living with him was easy. She smiled against his chest. No, living with him was great.
"What are you thinking about? I felt you smile." He played with her hair, running his fingers along her scalp. It felt nice.
Not wanting to share her true thoughts, she said the first thing that popped into her head. Something she'd been meaning to ask him for days and was desperate to hear the story about. "You have to tell me the story behind your tattoo." She drew her finger down his chest and over his abs, placing the flat of her hand low on his abdomen, so he knew which one she meant.
His deep chuckle vibrated through her ear and shook her head. She smiled again, enjoying the sound and the feel of it. "It happened back in college. Unfortunately, I only know half the story as fact. The other half was told to me the next morning, seeing as I'd been so drunk, I blacked out."
Jo got up on an elbow so she could look at him. "Oh, this I've got to hear."
"Well, the night started off as any other normal, college-party night. Me and some guys from my team hit a kegger at a frat house." He positioned himself on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. She followed suit to get off her elbow, resting her head on his shoulder when he wrapped his arm around her, getting comfy for story time.
"Unfortunately, they were serving more than beer. Football season had just ended, and us guys were coming off a long dry spell."
"In other words," she said, twisting her head to look up at him. "You were in the mood to party."
He gave her a grin. "You can say that. So, I remember playing beer pong, I remember things getting pretty rowdy, and then everything is just a big, black void. I woke up the next morning, face first on my bed, still in my clothes from the night before with a headache pounding through my head to rival all fucking headaches.
"The first thing I had to do, of course, was take a piss. So I staggered my way to the bathroom, unbuttoned my fly, and looked down to grab a hold of my junk. Then nearly fell on my ass when I saw THE END ZONE tattoo in big, block letters across the top of my fucking pubic hair."
Jo couldn't contain her giggle from escaping. She quickly covered her mouth to block the sound, but couldn't prevent her body from shaking with mirth.
"Laugh it up, chuckles," he deadpanned but gave her a squeeze to let her know he was kidding. Come on, he had to know it was funny. "Anyway, I ran down the hall to my roommate's room. He was one of the guys I went out with the night before," he clarified. "Threw open his door, and with my fly still open, and my dick flapping in the wind, yelled, 'What the fuck, man,' startling him awake."
At this point, Jo lost it. Her giggles had turned into full out laughter that she couldn't contain. She felt Mase chuckle along with her and was happy he could laugh about it now.
After a few minutes she calmed herself enough to say, "Okay, I'm better, now. You can continue," but belied her words by breaking into another round of giggles. She took some deep breaths and held up a hand. "Sorry, I just can't get the image of you, panicked, dick flinging about, out of my head." She took another deep breath and mashed her face in his chest before mumbling, "Okay, go on."
"Jason, my roommate, still groggy but at least with full memory of the night before, told me one of the guys, he didn't remember who, wanted to get a tattoo, and the rest of us thought that was a great idea. He then pulled up his tee and showed me the tattoo of a mermaid he had gotten on his chest. I stared at him in shock for a full minute too stunned to find the humor in any of it before I worked up the nerve to ask him the most important question."
"And what was that?" Jo asked, totally intrigued.
"Who had thought up my tattoo, and who decided where to put it?"
He was silent for so long, Jo raised her head. "And?" She asked, with a lift of her brows.
He smirked, shaking his head in disgust. "Yeah, the douche-of-the-year award went to me. It'd been all my brilliant idea."
Jo did a face-plant onto his chest and erupted in another round of laughter.
Jo paced in front of her desk, stretching the phone cord to its limit. "Thank you, officer. I'll be there tomorrow morning." She slammed the phone down on its cradle. "God Damn it!"
"Woo, girl. What's the malfunction?" Brandy asked.
Jo dragged her fingers through her hair. "Chris Ortega was picked up for breaking into a car and trying to steal the stereo. He has a hearing tomorrow at ten."
Although this was not the first time one of her kids had been in trouble, it still upset her every time. Over the years, she'd dealt with a variety of petty crimes like truancy, vandalism, and shoplifting. Most of her kids had some sort of social issue stemming from early childhood development, but she always stressed to them, they couldn't and shouldn't use that as an excuse to break the law.
Brandy pressed her lips together but didn't say anything. She knew how Jo felt, as if they'd failed somehow. Logically, Jo knew she did everything she could for her kids, but that didn't make her feel any better when having to face the prospect of picking Chris up from juvie.
She needed to call the house and tell them Chris would be MIA for the night. After she'd hung up, she looked at the time. Five thirty. Time to take her ass home. She smiled a secret smile as she grabbed her purse from under her desk. Mase would be at her house tonight. They'd had words for the second time in as many mornings. Well, Mase had words, and his words were shocking.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Jo slammed the trunk of her car and turned to see Mase standing a few feet away. His arms were crossed and he wore the unhappy/pissed-off expression she was coming to recognize as the look he wore whenever she did or said something he didn't like.
Only this time, she wasn't sure what she did. "Um... going to work."
"Was that your suitcase you just put in the trunk?" He asked, with a nod of his head.
Jo looked over her shoulder at said trunk then back at Mase. Confusion, she was sure, clearly written on her face. "Yes."
If possible, his already hard jaw locked tighter. After a few beats, he said, "So I guess that means you won't be staying the night tonight."
Jo felt her face soften. "Mase, I haven't been home for five days and now that Kyle's gone, you don't need me here."
He uncrossed his arms and took the few steps that separated them. His expression cleared of anger as he cupped her shoulders and leaned his forehead against hers. "I know you don't need to be here, but I want you here."
"What are you saying? That you want me to live with you?" Her words came out in a squeak. She didn't even know she could squeak. She had known all along that Mase was crazy, but moving in together after a week of knowing each other was insane.
Besides, what would she do with her house? She couldn't sell it. What if things didn't work out, she would have no place to go. And why was she even thinking of selling her house? She wasn't seriously considering moving in with Mase... was she?
&n
bsp; He must have seen the panic in her eyes. He cupped her face, forcing her eyes to his. "Breathe, Angel, it's okay. I can see I moved too fast. I don't want you to feel overwhelmed, so we'll compromise. I won't ask you to move in with me."
Jo let out a deep breath and nodded vigorously. "Okay, that sounds good."
Mase chuckled. "Don't get too excited, remember we have to compromise. On the nights that you don't stay here, I'll stay at your house with you." He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, and his voice turned gravelly when he said, "I've grown accustomed to having you in my arms, Angel. Not sure I can sleep without you."
Well, hell, did anyone have a mop? Because she was now a big puddle on the floor.
Jo tapped her fingers impatiently against the steering wheel as she sat in traffic wanting to get home with enough time to take a hot, relaxing shower before Mase came over at seven. She was in desperate need to wash away the stress of the day.
Her cell rang, and she hit the speakerphone when she saw, Debbie, flash across the screen.
"Hey, lady."
"Hey, yourself. What, your fuckin' finger broken you can't press a button to call your best friend in over a week?"
"Pretty sure it works both ways, Deb. I haven't heard from you in over a week, either." Jo smiled at Deb's silence, knowing her friend was stewing over that tidbit. "So what did I do to warrant your esteemed phone call?" Jo asked, sarcastically, to rib her further.
"Shut up. I've been slammed at work." Jo cringed. Deb was an emergency room nurse, so being slammed at work was not a good thing.
"Yeah, I've been pretty busy myself."
"Well, let's get unbusy. Pink's, Friday night, six o'clock. I won't take no for an answer."
Now it was Jo's turn to go silent.
"Earth to Joanna. You still there, or did I lose you?"
"I'm here. Friday sounds fine, but I need to run it by someone first to make sure."
"Who could you possibly need to run it past first? I'm the only friend you've got."
"Ha, ha, very funny. But seriously, I'm kind of seeing someone."
"You're kind of seeing someone? As in, it's only been a week since I've talked to you, but you need to run your plans by someone, kind of seeing someone?"
Jo rolled her eyes at Deb's sarcastic tone. "Listen, I'm pulling up to my house. I'll explain everything Friday night."
"You better, bitch."
Jo hit the end button then pulled into her driveway.
"You never talk about your parents." They lay stretched out on the couch, Jo mostly on top of Mase, both in an Italian food coma.
Mase had shown up promptly at seven, carrying a lasagna his housekeeper had made and between the two of them, managed to polish off half. She may not eat again for a week. Charlie, who'd arrived with Mase, had made himself right at home and was currently snoozing in front of her sliding glass door.
A sigh blew through her hair, and she raised her head to see his face. His eyes were closed, one arm up with his hand tucked under his head, his other arm was wrapped around her waist. "Mom's in Arizona. I fly her out here a few times a year for Kyle's birthday and Christmas. Haven't seen my dad since I was thirteen. He stopped sending money when I turned eighteen. At this point, I'm not even sure if he's alive or dead."
"I'm sorry, Mase."
He opened one eye and must not have liked her worried expression because he grabbed her under the armpits, hauling her up his body while muttering, "Come here."
He hugged his arms around her waist. "Don't be sorry. We were better off without him. He was an asshole that liked to get drunk then smack Mom around. He left right about the time, I was big enough to smack back.
"Mom met a nice guy a few years ago. He has a small business in Arizona, that's why she's out there." They were silent for a few minutes.
"Tell me more about little Mase."
"What do you want to know?"
Jo pondered for a moment. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"
"Well, now, I think it only fair if I spill some dirt then you need to spill, too. I don't want to be the only one revealing their most deep and darkest secrets. Besides, I may need something to blackmail you with later."
Jo laughed. "Okay, that seems fair. Although, I don't know if my most scandalous childhood delinquency is blackmail worthy. You go first."
Mase stacked his hands behind his head, getting comfortable. "Let's see, when I was eight, I set my bedroom on fire."
Jo gasped and then giggled. "How did that happen?"
"Firecrackers." Mase shook his head and smiled. "One of my friends, Jimmy Tucker, through a friend of a friend's older brother got us some firecrackers."
"Sounds like a complicated network."
Mase chuckled. "Do you want to hear this or not?"
Jo made a zipping motion across her lips.
"Anyway, I was messing around with the firecrackers in my bedroom. It was summer break, and my parents were at work. Sam was somewhere, not sure where, probably out with her friends, so I was alone in the house. I was having fun, seeing what I could blow up. Matchbox cars, model airplanes, shit like that.
"One of the firecrackers was a dud, or at least I thought it was. I tossed it off to the side, but I guess it was smoldering or some shit. I don't know, I never figured it out. I had a typical messy boys room, papers, dirty clothes, and stuff laying all over the floor. The firecracker caught something on fire, and it got out of control pretty damn quick.
"Of course, I panicked, not knowing what to do. I had a can of soda on the dresser and dumped that on it. Got it most of the way out and was able to stomp out the rest of it. Ruined my favorite pair of sneakers, but that was the least of my worries."
Jo was strangely fascinated by his story and also realized, hers would sound lame in comparison. "Then what happened?"
"I got a trash bag, put all the burned shit in it, and hid it in the back of my closet. The carpet wasn't as easy to hide. It had a big char mark and soda stain I couldn't remove." He raised a brow. "Even with bleach."
Jo put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "You didn't?"
"I did," he smirked. "Ended up moving my bed to cover it. But it was the smell that was the worst part. I opened all my windows, but like I said, it was summer, so it was hot with no wind, and my room just wasn't airing out fast enough, and I knew my mom would be home soon."
"So what did you do?" If Jo had been sitting, she'd be at the edge of her seat in anticipation. As she was, lying on top of Mase, her body was tense with her hands clutching his shoulders.
"I did what any other eight-year-old boy would do. Tried to mask it with a stronger smell. I found air-freshener in the kitchen and sprayed the whole damn can. Next, I found some spritzy shit of my sisters and sprayed that. God, my room stunk. But at least it didn't smell like smoke or bleach anymore.
"By the time my mom got home, the smell wasn't too bad, but she still made comment on it."
"What did you tell her?"
"Said I accidentally spilled a bottle of Sam's perfume. She seemed to buy it."
"Did she ever find out?"
"Yeah, about five years later, when my dad left, she sold the house. She saw the carpeting then, but she had so much other emotional crap going on, she didn't even care."
Jo gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Well, I'm sorry for that but happy you didn't get in trouble."
"What about you, Angel, what's your big, naughty secret?"
Jo chuckled. "Nothing as exciting as yours, I'm afraid."
"Let's hear it."
"Okay, once in the fourth grade, I had my best friend at the time, Amy Schwimmer, forge my mom's signature."
"And..."
Jo shrugged. "Basically, that's it. You see, every week we took a spelling test. I was a horrible speller and had to study for hours to learn the words. One week, I fell asleep and forgot to study and got almost all the words wrong. My teacher wanted the test signed by one of my parents, and I didn't want to get in trouble for a bad grade so had Amy
sign my mom's signature.
"I guess I didn't really think things through, because not only did Amy's handwriting not look like an adult's, she also spelled my mom's name wrong. Needless to say, my parents were very upset with me, and I ended up getting into worse trouble. I was grounded for two weeks."
"Babe, that's the best you can come up with?"
"It was horrible. I felt horrible, and I never did anything like it again."
"Angel, that's just truly pathetic."
"Well, we can't all be juvenile delinquents."
"I'll show you a delinquent." He grabbed her under the arms and surged off the couch before flipping her over his shoulder and heading to her bedroom.
Guess it was bedtime. Yippee!
Jo pulled up in front of the group house and put the car in park. She turned to Chris. He hadn't said one word since being released into her custody after the hearing.
"Chris." He'd been looking out the side window, but when she called his name, he turned to look at her. "Tell me what's going on. This isn't like you. You're a good student, have never been in trouble, and always helpful around the house, looking out for the younger kids."
"Maybe I'm sick of being helpful and looking out for everyone. Maybe I want to look out for me for a change." The anger that flashed in his eyes and indignation in his voice took her aback.
"And you think getting involved in a gang and stealing stereos is looking out for you?" She reached across the console and laid a hand on his arm. "The only way to get ahead in this world is to be the best person you can be. Lying, cheating, and stealing is not the quick fix to getting ahead, it's the path to destruction."
He yanked his arm from her hand, and she sat back in her seat. "You don't understand. You probably grew up in a well-off neighborhood and had everything handed to you. So how would you know what it's like? How could you possibly understand!"
She knew Chris was upset. Probably scared and confused. He was a good kid, going through a tough time. Even so, his words made her angry, and she felt like yelling right back, but she knew she had to stay calm. She took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "You don't know me. Yeah, my road may have started off a little easier than yours, but I've worked hard to get where I'm at today. Being well-off may have helped get me into school, but studying, dedication, and perseverance is what got me my degree, and if you work hard, stay in school, and stay out of trouble, you can do it, too."