Undesired Lust

by Eden Summers

  “I can drive you to the airport,” Sean called after her.

  “No, you can’t,” Mason growled. “You can take off and leave us the fuck alone.”

  She ignored the arguing, and the slamming of the front door, as she trekked through the house to fling open one of the French doors leading outside. Her hands fumbled with the pool gate, trembling more uncontrollably with every shuddering breath.

  “Sidney, stop.” Mason’s command made her skin prickle. “We’re going to have this out once and for all.”

  She skirted the pool edge, thankful the underwater lights brightened her path, and almost broke into a run when he stomped up beside her. “Leave me alone.” This was all their lives were now, a game of cat and mouse. She poked him, then ran, and even though she hadn’t learned her lesson, he still continued to come after her. Pushing her. Taunting her. Never ceasing to drive her insane.

  “Damn it. Hold on a minute.”

  A strong arm encircled her waist and lifted her off the ground, tearing a scream from her lungs. She didn’t want his touch, couldn’t stand his strength or his body heat. She was livid and broken. Tempted and repelled. Nothing made sense.

  “Put me down!” She bucked until he did as requested, placing her feet back on the ground beside the corner edge of the pool. “I’m done, Mason. I can’t be here with you.” Heaving breaths left her lips, and she glared, reiterating her defiance when her weak tone wouldn’t put the point across.

  “Why? Because you still have feelings for me?”

  Her eyes widened. “How can you suggest that after everything you’ve done to me? I hate you. I can’t stand the sight of you.” Her throat closed over the dishonesty. If only her feelings for him were contained to hostility.

  His nostrils flared, the same anger vibrating inside her, evident in his eyes. “A kiss doesn’t lie. You still have feelings for me, even if you’re with Sean.”

  “This is ridiculous.” She covered her face with her hands and fought the urge to punch him in the nose. Be professional. Christ, who was she kidding? The time for that had long passed.

  “Do you love him?”

  His softly grated question made her drop her hands. Unease shone in his eyes, a sight she’d rarely seen.

  “It’s none of your business.” She turned, taking the first step away.

  He gripped her wrist, tugging her back to him. Face to face, he moved his palms over her forearms, up to her biceps and dragged her close. He stared down at her, his gaze never breaking, stealing her strength and her capacity to think.

  “Then tell me why you still have feelings for me. You said it yourself, after everything you think I’ve done, you should hate me. So why do I still see desire in your features when you look at me?”

  How could she explain it when she didn’t understand it herself? She didn’t want to feel this way. Hating him would be easier. Still she couldn’t fight the hold he had on her. She clung to the past, to the dreamy man he used to be. Not letting go was killing her.

  “Please,” he pleaded.

  Her heart stuttered as she blinked the heat from her eyes. Who was this vulnerable man? The possibility he was playing her, using his tenderness to gain trust she no longer had to give should’ve caused concern, but she was too exhausted to care. Finally, she would let him know what his actions had caused, and once and for all, things between them would be over. She had to move on.

  “Why do I still have feelings for you?” she whispered. “Because I can’t forget the man you used to be.”

  His grip loosened on her arms, and his throat convulsed with a swallow.

  “Because I knew this truly magnificent person, who had talent, and heart, and yeah, maybe a little too much arrogance, but he was a great guy. I looked up to him. I would’ve given my soul to create more music with him. He made me feel better about my insecurities, and working with him was the highlight of my career. He gave me freedom. He gave me passion. And most of all, that man made me believe in myself.”

  She started to ramble, her words coming out with more force and hostility, until she thought she might not be able to stop. “So in answer to your question, the reason why I still have feelings for you is because I can’t turn those emotions off. I can’t go from being in love with someone to hating them, and not fracture from the tailspin.”

  Mason narrowed his gaze, and his hands fell from her arms. She’d wounded him, more than she anticipated her words ever could. It wasn’t until he continued to stare, the raw emotion heavy in his features, that she backtracked, trying to determine what she could’ve said to shock him.

  Oh, shit. She gasped. Love.

  Her mind frazzled, in panic mode. The floodgates of emotion opened inside her, releasing all the heartache of the previous years, making her yearn all the more for the man she’d once been infatuated with. This was all his doing. All his fault. Her trust issues, her insecurities, her failures, even her loneliness. Before she could stop herself, she did the only thing she could think of to wipe the horrified expression from his face—she shoved his chest, hard, sending him toppling backward.

  He swore, his eyes widening while his arms flailed through the air. Unlucky for him, no amount of effort stopped the momentum. He continued to fall, losing his footing and descending into the pool, going under the water fully clothed, shoes and all.

  Run!

  She did, turning her back and then rushing toward the pool house, her boot heels frantically tapping against the tile. The water splashed as Mason pushed back above the surface. He sputtered, growled, and then his deep voice cracked the air. “You’re going to wish you never did that.”

  She already did. Her heart was racing faster than a locomotive, and she hadn’t reached the far pool fence before another splash echoed, announcing his departure from the water. Sloshed footsteps taunted her, growing closer. She flung the gate open, and jumped onto the pool house deck. Riffling through her purse, she retrieved the key she’d planted in the coin compartment, and whimpered when her hands shook trying to get it in the lock.

  The gate slammed again, and she held her breath, finally releasing it when the door flung open.

  “There’s no use running, wildcat.”

  Oh, Christ. She flung the door behind her, praying for it to lock with a bang. The sound never came. All she heard was the dull thump when it hit Mason’s sodden shoe positioned inside the doorframe. He lunged for her, and she screamed, scrambling around the sofa. Her chest pounded, her breathing coming in labored pants.

  “You’re going for a swim, kitty cat.” The blond waves of his hair hung limp around his face, framing animalistic eyes as he dripped water all over the carpeted floor.

  She yanked her cell from her pocket, not willing to risk it being destroyed, and threw it onto the sofa with her purse. “Please, Mason. It’s too cold.”

  “It’s fucking freezing,” he clarified, taking two steps around the sofa, causing her to do the same in the opposite direction. “You’re lucky I threw my cell and wallet on the kitchen counter before I came after you. Otherwise, you’d be in a heap more trouble.”

  She shook her head, wordlessly begging, pleading, imploring him to forgive her. “These are my favorite boots. They’ll be ruined if they get wet.” And she didn’t have the money to replace them. She didn’t have money for anything. Her life was in ruins, entirely different from the height of existence she’d been in last time she’d been on Mason’s property.

  “I’ll buy you a new pair,” he growled before launching himself over the back of the sofa.

  She squealed as he caught her around the waist, throwing her effortlessly over his wet shoulder. His hold was unforgiving, his muscles taut and visible through the clothes clinging to his body. She bucked and writhed, already chilled from the water seeping into her jeans. “I’m sorry,” she screamed. “Please, please, please, Mason. Let me go.”

  “You started it, wildcat, not me.” He slapped her ass, ripping a squeal from her lungs and stilling her movements.r />
  Damn him. The bite of pain quickly turned to pleasure, driving her to cling to him for reasons other than the fear of being dropped.

  He carried her into the cool night air, one hand holding her down while the other opened the gate, letting it shut behind them with a bang. The water taunted her, the mist of imminent hypothermia drifting from the surface in wisps of fog.

  “Sean!” She prayed he was still hanging around somewhere.

  “He’s gone,” Mason drawled, then landed another swatting blow to her ass.

  This time she groaned, unable to contain the long-forgotten burst of bliss. This was about hating him, not wanting him. Why the hell was her body on a different wavelength? Her nipples were beading, not just from the cold seeping into her clothes, but from the need to feel the tight grasp of his fingers over her hardened flesh.

  “Anyone else you want to call out to?” His stride decreased as he approached the edge of the pool.

  “Please. I’ll do anything.” She thumped on his back with her fists, trying not to focus on how tight his pants hugged his ass and hating herself for the hope of gaining another blow to her buttocks. He placed her down, a breath away from the pool’s edge, the tips of her toes the only grounding she had.

  His mocha gaze traveled over her skin in a delicate caress. His lips slightly tilted in a grin while the cold hardness of his body pressed into her. “Anything?” He raised a taunting brow. “How about another kiss?”

  He didn’t move, didn’t lean in to take what he wanted. He tormented her with his perfection, with the delicious smoothness of his lips, and the endearing depth of his irises. She couldn’t kiss him again. Well, she could, if walking away unscathed were a possibility. Her chest still burned from the undesired lust that engulfed her in the parking lot. He knew he was winning this game of cat and mouse, and she detested how easily he’d gained the upper hand.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed the clear water glowing from sparkling lights around the side of the pool. “I guess it doesn’t look that cold.”

  He chuckled, the heat of his breath fanning her neck. He had already dragged her under, making her drown from the desire to have him. Maybe the freezing water would snap her out of her stupidity.

  He leaned in closer, sending her off balance with no choice but to cling to him. All she could focus on were his lips, the bottom slightly bigger than the top in a delicious way that made her want to part them with her tongue.

  “I suggest holding your breath,” he murmured in her ear.

  Then they were falling, together, his grip still around her waist as she took a gulp of air and plunged under. Her chest constricted in anticipation of the icy temperatures, and she waited for the freezing chill to hit. When tepid water greeted her, she relaxed into Mason’s hold and allowed him to pull her to the surface. They gasped for breath at the same time, their gazes colliding, their bodies still touching.

  He was beautiful, with his flawless skin covered in water droplets and his hair in a ragged mess around his face. This should’ve been a perfect moment, a time when she could laugh and enjoy the way he held her close. Only it wasn’t playful, it was heart wrenching. Every second tore her apart with the need for something she couldn’t have.

  “You could’ve told me the water was heated,” she panted, wishing her labored breaths were due to the drop below the surface, not his proximity. Her throat tightened as he stared at her. He was too close. Too tempting. Too mesmerizing. She needed to get his hands off her before her heart began to flutter for reasons other than fear. Not waiting for his comeback, she maneuvered on the heels of her ruined boots to reach the side wall of the pool.

  “Sidney.” Mason’s tortured tone stopped her. She knew better than to turn and look at him. Instead, she stood still, allowing him to say whatever was on his mind. “I’m sorry.”

  Time ceased. She’d waited a lifetime for this moment, to hear those two words filled with anguish and remorse, and now it was too late. She’d lost the will to care. The hope of retrieving what they once had was gone.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she murmured, gripping the edge of the pool. “I’m past the point of caring.” She hauled herself into the chilly night air, struggling with the weight of her drenched jacket. When strong hands gripped her hips, she had no choice but to fall back into the tepid water.

  Mason pulled her backward into his chest, the heat of him sparking a torturous throb behind her breastbone. “You still care,” he whispered, resting his forehead against the back of her head. “A woman like you would never stop.”

  She closed her eyes. “You don’t know me anymore, Mason.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve always known you. I just wish you would’ve known me a little better. Maybe then you wouldn’t have accused me of things I didn’t do.”

  Her eyes burst open and anger seared her veins. “Accused you of what?” she snapped, turning in his arms. “The only thing I’ve ever held you accountable for was the video you shared.”

  “I shared it, did I?”

  She wanted to slap the look of defiance off his face. “I’m sick of your games.” She glared, pushing at his chest until he stopped touching her. “And I’m sick of hoping this will ever be resolved. The past is where it needs to stay.”

  He raised a brow, the anger returning to his irises as the muscles at the side of his jaw ticked.

  “Like I said before, I’m done. It’s not healthy for me to be here.” It stung her heart to turn her back on him and grab the side of the pool in a white-knuckle grip. With all her strength, she pulled herself and all her sodden clothes from the water, and sloshed her way to the pool house, finally closing the door on their relationship once and for all.

  MASON WATCHED SIDNEY stalk away, her soaked clothes clinging to her body. The bitter night chill nipped at his shoulders, and uncertainty held him in place. This was it. Decision time. He had the opportunity to swallow the pride he’d been clinging to and set things straight. Or he could do what he’d done for two years and turn his back, refusing to give the people who judged him the right to know the truth.

  Neither option was pretty.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered, slicing through the water to the edge of the pool. Tonight was the night to get this shit off his chest. No matter how his revelation was received, he’d finally be able to lay his head to rest with the real story out in the open. He couldn’t hold on to this crap forever. His muse had already cut and run because of it.

  Climbing from the pool, he trudged his freezing ass to her door and rapped his knuckles against the dark-brown wood. His whole body shook from the cold, the slight breeze passing through him like a thousand tiny arrows. He waited, his heart beating harder, his fingers going numb.

  “Sidney.” He knocked louder, bringing his ear to the door to listen for her footsteps. None came. The faint sound of running water echoed in the distance. “Damn it.” She was in the shower.

  If he left now, he wouldn’t come back. And he couldn’t wait out in the cold much longer. His balls could only retract so far before he’d become a soprano for life. Not giving himself time to regret the action, he retrieved the spare key from under the mat and let himself into the warmth of the small house.

  Inside, it was quiet, the pitter-patter of falling water breaking the silence. He continued to shiver, the heating not penetrating the chill sinking into his bones, as he moved to the bathroom door. For strength, he leaned over, a hand positioned on each side of the door frame, and closed his eyes. The wait was torturous. He couldn’t figure out if he was suffering more from the icy material against his body, or the fear of spilling his guts.

  By the time the water turned off, his breathing was coming in short pants, because of the onset of hyperthermia, or anticipation, he didn’t know. He pictured her drying and dressing herself, warming his blood with the image of her body. Then the door opened, and she gasped, her dark long hair wet and ruffled, her hazel eyes wide as her hand flew to the pink blouse cove
ring her chest. He frowned at her clothes, knowing the fresh pair of jeans meant she was determined to leave.

  “Jesus,” she rasped. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “You can’t go.”

  She raised a brow, glancing at his hands positioned on either side of the frame before making eye contact. “Why? Because we’re having so much fun?”

  “It’s a dick move to make in the middle of the night, and you know it.” He bit his tongue. Why, oh why, did he have to be such a defensive asshole?

  She lowered her hand to her side. “Well, you’d know all about dick moves.” Her voice was breathy, and her throat convulsed with a swallow. No matter how much she wanted him to believe she hated him, she couldn’t disguise her body’s reaction.

  He stepped forward, causing her to retreat into the steamy bathroom. “Why? Because mine’s so big?” He smirked, the chill in his bones lessening.

  Sidney rolled her eyes and took a step around him. “Thanks for the memories, but it’s time for me to leave.”

  He could’ve grabbed her shoulder, or maybe her upper arm, instead he reached for the intimacy of her hand to stop her escape. “No, kitten. It’s time for you to listen to my side of the story.” He couldn’t feel his lips, or his feet, or his legs, yet her palm blazed against his, filtering through his bloodstream and into his chest. He expected her to fight, to lash out or glare. She did neither. She stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar.

  He wasn’t prepared for her acquiescence. For the potency of their close proximity. It cleared his mind, made him forget what he was doing until his sole focus was on her mouth and the way her tongue would taste against his.

  “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” she murmured.

  He frowned at her. After what they’d been through, and the story she believed surrounding the uploaded video, his kitten still had the heart to worry about his health.

  “OK.” He released her hand and reached for the bottom of his soaked shirt, lifting it above his stomach. If she wanted him naked, he wouldn’t refuse. He just had to hope his dick regained warmth quickly so he didn’t look like a minor.