by Andrea Joy
I think about the last seven years. Of the nights spent staring at my phone wishing it would ring with his name on the screen. I have so much to tell him. So much to confess and beg his forgiveness for, but I just… can’t. I keep picturing him with that woman at the range. Wondering if he’s still with her or if he’s with someone new now. Even despite him being buried deep inside me only hours ago. The last seven years have been hard without him. But if we do this and he decides to go back to ignoring me and treating me like a child or taking away the one thing that means the world to me then I’d rather live through the pain of knowing we’ll never be anything than losing the most precious gift that was given to me six years ago.
“No. It doesn’t.” We stare at each other, neither one of us wanting to be the first one to look away. “Are you saying you want this?” My heart is threatening to burst out of my chest with how fast it’s beating. I need him to say the words, to spell it out for me.
“So fucking much,” he says and then his lips are on mine, his tongue licking along the seam of my lips, asking for entry.
We kiss like it might be the last time we’ll ever be able to, right there in his driveway for all to see and neither one of us seems to give a fuck.
“Stay the night,” he says, when we eventually pull away, his arm still holding me close.
“Okay.”
He takes my hand and pulls me behind him as he marches back up the driveway and through the front door.
“Mason,” I giggle. “Slow down.”
He shuts the front door and immediately pushes my back up against it. Both his hands come up to frame my face and his lips are on me again. Kissing along my jaw, down my neck. His hands move from my face to slip inside my jacket and slides the leather off my shoulders and down my arms until it falls to the floor at our feet.
When he nips just below my ear, I moan, my fingers curling into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling him closer. The drawstring isn’t done up so it’s not hard for me to yank them down. His lips don’t leave my skin as he kicks off his pants and shoes. My shirt is the next to go, followed by my flats. Mason trails kisses down my middle, only stopping when he reaches the waistband of my black skinny jeans. His dark eyes connect with mine while he undoes my pants and slides them over my hips and down my legs. His fingers curl around each one of my ankles, helping me shed the tight pants and then I’m left in just my underwear.
Mason groans. Licking a stripe up my slit then sucks my clit between his lips through the thin material. My breath hitches, hands flying to curl into the thick strands of his hair. I hold him to me as my hips buck, seeking out that extra bit of friction, wishing there was no barrier between my clit and his mouth.
“Mason…”
At my breathless whimper, he leans back and slides the last remaining barrier down over my ass and thighs, letting it pool around my ankles and then his mouth is right back between my thighs. My fist tightens in his hair and he grunts, but I don’t let up. I can’t. I’m so close. Too close. He works his shoulders between my thighs, forcing me to widen my stance and throw a leg over one of his shoulders. With my back leaning against the door and my weight balancing precariously on one foot, I’m teetering on the edge.
He turns to nip the inside of my thigh. His fingers replacing his lips on my clit in a delicious roll of the bundle of nerves. An embarrassing symphony of sounds manages to escape my throat when those fingers move to slide through my lips and inside of me. His lips are back on my nub and between his tongue and fingers, I come way sooner than I would’ve liked. My leg falls from his shoulder. His hands reach up to grip my hips and steady me before I collapse in a heap in front of him.
With a smirk, Mason rises from his knees and eyes still locked on mine, brings the fingers he just had inside me to his lips, licking and sucking my juice from the digits. I moan, curling my hand around the nape of his neck and yank his face down to mine in a crushing kiss. He palms the globes of my ass, his erection sliding up and down my belly with every back and forth of his hips. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he lifts me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and presses my back into the door again.
He steadies me with one hand while the other guides his cock to my entrance. Just like earlier when he was on his knees in front of me, I don’t break eye contact as he thrusts the last little bit, seating himself fully inside me. His pupils are blown with lust, but there’s something else there too. Something stronger. Softer. Something akin to affection. It makes my heart beat a staccato rhythm behind my rib cage, but it can’t be. All these years he’s told me we could never be anything because of our age difference and the work he does for my family. I can’t bring myself to believe that his reasons were all bullshit because the truth might be harder to bare.
One of his palms land on the door beside my head, the other grips my hip in a punishing hold but I welcome the sting of pain as his hips thrust back and forth. My heels are digging into his ass so hard that he’ll probably have bruises too. He grunts, leaning his forehead down beside my head, the warmth of his breath fanning the curve of my ear.
“Christ, you’re so tight,” he growls in my ear. “Your pussy is so greedy for my dick; it doesn’t want to let go.”
I moan, letting my head fall back against the door with a thud, and exposing my throat to his roaming lips. Mason nips at the flesh then licks the same spot.
“Mason,” I pant, already feeling the telltale signs of another orgasm.
He presses my hips tighter to the wooden surface, his thrusts becoming harder, more punishing. “You going to come on my dick, babe? Going to show me just how much you love having me inside you?” He bites down on the curve where my neck meets my shoulder and I scream, trying to arch my back but he’s got me pinned so good that it’s useless. “When we’re done, you’ll know that no other dick will be able to make you come so hard. You’ll be begging for mine and mine alone. You hear me, Sofia? Mine is the only one you’ll ever want or need.”
“Mason!” I cry, clutching at his shoulders, burying my face in his neck as I do exactly what he predicted and come so hard my body trembles and I clamp down around him.
He curses, teeth sinking into my skin again as his movements falter. His body goes rigid and then he’s filling me up with hot spurts of cum. He lifts his head and his mouth finds mine in another kiss. This one less hurriedly and hungry than the others. We’re both panting and covered in sweat, my legs are starting to ache from being bound around his hips and I’m sure his must be feeling like Jell-O with holding me up, but neither one of us seems to care at this moment.
Mason reaches up and moves a stray strand of hair out of my face, curling it behind my ear. The gesture sweet and a little more intimate than what we’ve shared over the years.
“Never leave me.”
The words are spoken so quietly that if I wasn’t staring at his lips at the exact time he said them, I would’ve missed them. At a loss for word, I tighten my hold around him and hug him to me while whispering in his ear.
“Never.”
Chapter Thirteen
SOFIA
The bright, early morning sun streams through the open window in Mason’s bedroom and even though it’s proof that it’s morning, the house is quiet. There’s no one moving around the kitchen downstairs, banging pots and pans as they make breakfast, no TV blaring the morning news or cartoons or music streaming from Bluetooth speakers. It’s bliss.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my cousin and Klara, but their place can seem like a madhouse in the morning. Even my place back in California isn’t this quiet with my roommates coming and going at all hours of the day and night or Dominic crawling into my bed to watch Cartoons while I try to stay sleeping. I could get used to waking up to this kind of quiet. Especially if it came with the man who’s currently pressed up against my back, his arm curled around my belly.
With a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I close my eyes again and snuggle back into him, hoping I
can get another couple hours of shut eye. That is until I feel something hard pressing into my lower back.
Mason grunts in my ear. “G’morning.”
“Good indeed,” I say, wiggling against his morning wood.
He groans, sliding his hand down between my thighs and cupping me through the boxers I borrowed to sleep in. My breath hitches when he grinds his palm against my clit and then I’m writhing against him while he slides his hard length up and down between my crease.
“You’re so sexy.”
“Mason,” I pant. “Please.”
His hand leaves the space between my thighs to push down the boxers until I can kick them off then his front leaves my back only long enough for him to divest himself of his own underwear when he comes back, we’re both naked from the waist down. He lifts my leg and hooks it over his, giving him better access and then he’s sliding home. I moan, throwing my head back against his shoulder as he rocks back and forth. In and out. His hand is back between my legs, his fingers circling the tiny nub there. I’m not going to last.
“Mason!”
“I know, baby. Let go for me. I want to see you come.”
It takes a couple more strokes and increased pressure on my clit. One. Two. And then I’m flying apart. My face buried in the pillow, screaming as wave after wave of pleasure rushes through me. Mason pounds into me a few more times, his forward thrusts so hard they push me over onto my stomach, his bruising grip on my waist holding me down, and then he’s coming. Filling me up with his hot seed.
When the last tremor leaves his body, he releases me and drops down next to me on his back. My body is so incredibly spent that it takes me several more moments before I can move and roll over to face him, but when I do, he lifts an arm and I cuddle into his side despite how sweaty his chest feels.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask, my eyes getting heavy again as he begins playing with my hair, raking his fingers through the blonde strands. It feels good.
“I need to go into the office at some point this morning and handle a couple cases that go to trial next week, but that’s about it. You?”
I trace around the lines of the tattoo on his chest and follow the path of my fingers with kisses. “I’m on summer vacation so I haven’t really planned much. Klara mentioned wanting to get pedicures today. I think she’s been feeling lonely lately with Adrienne being so far away now.”
We’re quiet for a while just enjoying each other’s company and the warm morning sun, when Mason’s phone pings from the nightstand. He reaches over to pick it up but doesn’t make a move to dislodge me from his chest.
“What is it?” I ask, when he goes from relaxed too rigid beneath me.
“My partner at the law firm. I need to go in earlier than expected.” This time he taps me on the arm and I reluctantly sit up, allowing him to do the same and throw his legs over the side of the bed before standing and heading to the attached bathroom.
I debate joining him but decide against it after a while. The way he reacted to the message made it seem like it was important which means he probably wouldn’t appreciate extending his shower any longer than absolutely necessary. When I hear the water turn on in the bathroom, I climb out of bed and pad over to where I dropped my clothes in a pile on the floor last night and shift through the pockets of my jeans until I find my own phone. Device in hand, I crawl back into the king size bed and sit up with my back against the headboard, still completely naked under the white sheet. My skin begins to prickle with anxiety at seeing all the numbers in red circles above numerous apps. I trample it down and tackle them one at a time starting with my messages.
Klara: Still up for pedicures? I’m thinking we can maybe convince Brax to let us take the Jag?
I grin, momentarily forgetting about the disappointment of Mason having to leave a lot sooner than either of us would’ve liked. Just as I’m about to reply to Klara, another messages pops up.
Braxton: You are not taking the Jag.
Me: Aww, c’mon on, Cuz. Please.
Braxton: No
Me: You know, it’s a little weird how much of a hard on you have for that car.
Braxton: I can replace you. That car is only one of two of its kind.
Me: Ouch. Love you too, Cousin.
Braxton: I’ll make you a deal. Keep Klara out of the house for the rest of the day and you can take the Jag.
Me: What’s the catch?
Braxton: No catch.
Me: Yeah, right. I wasn’t born yesterday. You just told me you love that car more than family and now you want me to keep your wife out of the house in exchange for driving it?
The shower cuts off moments before Mason emerges from the bathroom in nothing, but a towel wrapped dangerously low on his hips. I lick my lips as my eyes track a bead of water as it runs down the mountains and valleys of his abs and then disappears beneath the towel and out of view.
Please drop the towel. Please drop the towel. Please drop the…
The sound of my phone ringing cuts off my mental chant and I silently vow to murder my cousin in a very painful death. I catch Mason’s eye just as I lift the device to my ear, a wicked grin on his handsome face. He drops the towel and then steps into his walk-in closet, shutting the door behind him. Bastard.
“What?”
“No need to bite my head off, Sofia. Someone obviously hasn’t had her morning coffee.”
“Someone was about to get laid. Very very laid.”
Braxton grunts. “I really didn’t need to know that.”
“You were the one who called.”
“You didn’t have to answer.”
This is true. I didn’t but even if I wanted another round of morning sex before Mason goes into the office, it wasn’t going to happen. I sigh into the phone and sink further down into the bed.
“What do you want, Brax?”
“I need you to keep Klara out of the house today.”
“Why?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for so long that I think the call may have been dropped but when I pull it away from my ear and glance down at it, the minutes and seconds are still ticking away.
“I’m having one of the guest rooms renovated into a library for her. It was supposed to be done when I proposed but the contractor wasn’t able to get it done in time. He’s finally coming back to finish it today.”
I laugh. “Did you threaten to kill him?”
Silence.
“Oh my god. You did!”
My cousin clears his throat, guiltily might I add, before he responds. “Just say you’ll keep her distracted, Sof. I’ll let you take the Jag this one time.”
There’s still something he’s not telling me. He wouldn’t be so willing to let me drive his new baby if it was just a matter of keeping his wife out of the house, but I’m not about to argue with him.
“You have a deal, Cousin.”
We shoot the shit for a little longer until he gets called into a meeting and hangs up. I’m still staring down at my phone, our conversation replaying in my head when Mason steps out of the walk-in closet, dressed impeccably in a pressed suit that’s been tailored to fit him.
“Everything okay?” He asks, when he sees me staring wide eyed at my phone. He steps up to where I’m sitting in the bed and runs a hand down the side of my face, stopping when he gets to my chin to force my eyes up to his.
“Everything’s good.” I plaster a smile on my face and hope he doesn’t see through it to the uncertainty swimming below.
Mason leans down to press a soft kiss to my forehead and then the tip of my nose and lastly to my lips.
“Go back to bed. I’ll leave a spare key on the kitchen counter.”
I sigh. “As much as I would love that. I really should get going.”
“Take your time. Take a bath or a shower before you go. I’ll still leave the key.” He kisses me again. I curl my fingers in the lapels of his suit jacket and pull him closer, deepening the kiss and forcing hi
m to shoot a handout against the headboard to keep from falling over.
“Sof,” he warns.
“I know.” I uncurl my fingers and smooth out the expensive material. “Have a good day at the office.”
This all seems so domestic. Me still in bed, wishing her ‘boyfriend’ a good day at the office. Mason’s eyes blaze with heat and I can tell he wants to do anything other than leave me naked in his bed right now, but with one last longing look he does.
Once I hear the telltale click of the front door, I text Klara that I’ll be back in an hour and then I abandon the phone on the bed and pad into the bathroom to take the bath he recommended.
Spending the day with Klara had gone better than expected. We were ten minutes early for our nail appointment, so we decided to hit up a local coffee shop across the street first where Klara introduced me to her drink of choice. I think she called it a white mocha americano misto. It was a mouthful to say but tasted pretty good. I was afraid to tell her that I was more of a tea person, though. I couldn’t bring myself to see the smile slip from her face when she insisted that it was the greatest thing, I’d ever taste so I’d let her order for me.
When it was time for our appointments, we helped each other pick colors for our hands and toes. I was never a girly-girl growing up. I never got my nails or hair done, never wore dresses or heels. My debit card, cash, and cell phone all went into the pockets of the pants or shorts I was wearing. So, I was surprised when it took us almost five minutes to lock down two colors of nail polish. To be fair, there were a lot of colours and if the salon didn’t want us taking our sweet time in deciding then they shouldn’t have so many options to choose from. When we move to sit in the large leather chairs for our pedicures, I have a moment of panic. Did I shave my legs this morning? A quick slide of my hand down one of my legs confirms that I had in fact shaved during my bath this morning. I breathe a small sigh of relief as I settle back against the leather of the seat.