Her pink tongue running along her bottom lip was nearly my undoing. When I reached for her mask, it was instinctual and without thought or plan. I just knew I needed to see her. Really see her.
When she grabbed for my hand a second too late, her eyes wide and her grip firm, my eyes narrowed. What did she have to hide that she always wore the mask? Not that it mattered, because I wasn’t planning on asking her to marry me. Like I said… fuck relationships.
What I was having a hard time fighting was the uncontrollable need to see her unfettered and coming unraveled in my arms. It was so strong, it was nearly a tangible thing.
“Shhhh.” My hand set the mask next to me on the couch and reached out to cup her neck, drawing her and her full red lips closer to my own. Her hands dropped to my shoulders to maintain her balance as she leaned toward me. When our lips brushed against each other with the barest whisper of contact, it was like a frisson of electricity ten times as strong as the one I felt when our hands first touched.
The kiss was deep and frantic before either of us comprehended, and our tongues lashed and teeth nipped at each other’s lips in a rush. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, and mine reached for her hips and pulled her on to my lap until she straddled my throbbing cock.
Fuck, she was going to kill me. Who the hell was this girl?
Her fingers tangled in my hair and grasped at the front of my cut as mine reached around her to cradle her close to me at her back and hips. Her barely covered pussy ground against my cock as we sat there dry humping like a couple of high school kids. One hand slipped around to knead her perfect, firm, full tit through her barely there shirt. Goddamn, they were totally real. She moaned as my hand continued to stroke and knead first one then the other of her beautiful tits. Shit. What the hell was I doing?
Sanity broke through the muddled haze that was my brain, and I gently broke away from the magnetic pull of her lips. We both were breathing heavily; her with her forehead resting on my shoulder and me with my face in her hair. The hairs of the wig were soft, but I craved the sight and feel of her own hair.
“Let me see your hair, beautiful.”
“You can see it,” she mumbled into my shoulder. A chuckle slipped from me, and I leaned back to tip her chin up to look at me. Her eyes were downcast, and I tipped my head at an angle to place myself in her field of vision.
“Sparkle—no, what’s your real name, sweetheart?”
Her teeth grabbed her bottom lip and worried it in indecision. She took a deep breath before she met my eyes with her beautiful blue eyes, rimmed in thick dark lashes. This soft, sweet girl was nothing like the alluring seductress, Sparkle, that took the stage, but I liked this side of her even more than I would have thought.
“Look, I don’t do this. I came in here to tell you I don’t do this. I don’t know what came over me, and I have to say, I really feel a little like a slut right now. I need to go. I still have two more sets tonight because Monique called in sick.” Her eyes begged me to believe her words as she tried to back off my lap. While I understood she needed to go back to work, I wasn’t ready to let her warm body go. My arms held her hips in place, which caused her to press into my cock again. We both groaned at the jolt of pleasure from just that little bit of contact. Something told me that fucking her would be unlike anything I had ever experienced, like it may be so explosive I may be tempted to consider… no. Never mind that thought.
“Relax, babe. Despite how tempted I am, I’d rather not have the first time with you here in a strip joint, and that wasn’t my intent, okay? I just wanted to talk to you. Just needed to have you to myself for ten minutes. But mark my words, my cock will be buried in that warm, wet pussy of yours sooner rather than later. You feel me?” My words were whispered in her ear as I tried to calm my raging hormones and work up the ability to let her go.
Shit, I felt like a teenage boy with his first real hard-on. What the hell kind of magic was she weaving? What the hell was happening to me?
Her quick intake of air was the only response I got before I loosened my hold on her and she rapidly scrambled off my lap then grabbed her costume pieces and held them as if they could cover her near nakedness. She could wrap herself in a gunny sack, and I would still think she was beautiful, so I didn’t know why she was worried about covering herself.
“I’ll be here until you get off. Let me take you home after your shift is over.” She had reached the door and stopped with her hand on the knob as she looked over her shoulder at me with an expression of surprise and an emotion I couldn’t quite place.
“No. You can’t come to my home.” Her eyes were wide and startled, much like a deer in the headlights look, before she put her mask back on and slipped out the door. My eyebrows raised in surprise, and then anger bubbled up in me. Wondering if she was looking down on me and thinking I wasn’t good enough for her because I was a member of the MC had me instantly pissed. Then my mind quickly wandered to another conclusion. Don’t fucking tell me she has a damn old man waiting on her at home! Motherfucker.
My fist dented the door slightly when it met the metal surface. What the hell was getting into me? I really didn’t even know this girl. Why the fuck did it matter if she was with someone? It shouldn’t matter to me. She was just some girl I drooled over on a stripper pole. Right? Yeah, of course.
And hell, it wasn’t like I couldn’t find out every second of her life if I really wanted to, but I would rather she give in and let me in on her own. The normal, sane Hacker would have just said “fuck it” and went about his way alone. Instead, I pushed those semi-lucid thoughts away and allowed the anger to suck me in again.
Simmering in my irritation, I slammed out of the private room and stormed down the hall toward the front door and outside to get some air. I paced the parking lot several times before I came to a decision and re-entered the club looking for Bo, the bartender. He knew all the girls, and I was going to get some answers from him about little Miss Sparkle instead of hacking into her life like I was tempted to. If she actually did have a man at home, I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do, because I didn’t poach, but this minx had my insides in fucking knots.
I wanted her, and that said something considering my history.
I was so fucked, and I just didn’t realize it yet.
I cannot believe this is my second book. There are so many people I have to thank for everything they did to inspire and motivate me to bring life to Mason and Becca. I’m not even sure where to begin.
First, I’m thanking my readers. I can’t lie and say I was sure you would exist when I first released Colton. You surprised me from the beginning, and every day since. Never in a million years would I have thought so many of you would buy and then actually love my writing. My heart overflows with gratitude to you all, because honestly, without each and every one of you, there would be no Mason.
Next, I will thank Penny. You were my go-to gal (paragraph by paragraph some nights). You believed in me from the beginning and continued to encourage me when I felt like Colton may be my “one hit wonder.” Oh and yes, I still promise if they ever make a movie out of my books you can be there when they select the cast (She’s sure that will happen someday).
Charrissa, my fellow book-junkie. Thank you for reading Mason while Bobby was sick on my couch from “Texas Cedar Fever.” Also, thank you for helping moderate the newly coined Facebook Group “Kristine’s Krazy Fangirls.” I miss you, and you need to move back to Texas soon.
Once again, thank you to the fabulous author, Sybil Bartel. Sybil, you are my hero. Your ever positive nature, steamy-hot books, and general awesomeness, inspired me to get moving on Mason and get him out to the best readers in the world, all as quick as I could. Keep the fans happy! (By the way, if you haven’t read Sybil’s books yet… what are you waiting for?!)
Clarise of CT Cover Creations, you did it again! Thank you for making Mason as gorgeous and perfect as Colton. You made them both look so amazing, especially sitting side by side!
You’re a true genius.
The ladies at Hot Tree Editing gave my words polish and professionalism and there is never thanks enough for that! (I know if any of you read this part, you’re probably cringing at all of my grammatical oopsies since I’m writing how I speak. Heehee.) Thank you Virginia and Kristina, for loving my characters and catching all my faux pas.
Stacy at Champagne Formats, you are absolutely a formatting Goddess and you can tell your children I said so! When my major fiasco happened with Colton, you calmly fixed everything and turned my world right-side up again. Mason will be just as beautiful “between the covers” thanks to you. I still thank my lucky stars I chose you to handle my formatting needs! (Thank you to Sybil for that too!)
And as always, my last-but-never-least, a massive thank you to America’s servicemen and women who protect our freedom on a daily basis. They do their duty, leaving their families for weeks, months, and years at a time, without asking for praise or thanks. I would also like to remind the readers that not all combat injuries are visible nor do they heal easily. These silent, wicked injuries wreak havoc on their minds and hearts while we go about our days completely oblivious.
Kristine Allen lives in beautiful Central Texas with her adoring husband. They have four brilliant, wacky and wonderful children. She is surrounded by twenty six acres, where her seven horses, six dogs and three cats run the place. Kristine realized her dream of becoming a contemporary romance author after years of reading books like they were going out of style and having her own stories running rampant through her head. She works as a nurse, but in stolen moments, taps out ideas and storylines until they culminate into characters and plots that pull her readers in and keep them entranced for hours.
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