Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3

by Crystal Jordan

  “No more,” she gasped. “I can’t take it. I want you inside me.”

  “Thank God.” He sagged in relief.

  Slithering off his lap, she knelt on the bed beside him, her body throbbing. She nipped at his shoulder with her teeth. “Now, Mason.”

  “Yes. Now.” He leaned over and swiped his pants off the floor, fishing a condom out of one pocket.

  He rolled to his back, and she straddled his thighs while he sheathed himself in the condom. He pulled her in place over his cock, his fingers biting into her flesh, but he let her set the pace. She rolled her hips, rubbing her wet folds against the head of his dick. A muscle bulged in his jaw, and he made a choked sound, shuddering beneath her. She took him slowly, though her body screamed for more, harder and faster and now, but she wanted to savor this moment.

  Sinking down on his thick shaft one slow inch at a time, she let her head fall back as she lost herself in the feel of his cock stretching her. It was fucking amazing. Better than anything she’d ever known before. She gasped when he arched beneath her, rocking his pelvis against her clit. The head of his cock hit her G-spot, and she screamed. “Jesus Christ.”

  “I can’t wait, Celia. I need you.” He gritted the words out between clenched teeth. “Fuck me, ride me hard. Please.”

  She gave him what he wanted, planting her hands on his shoulders for leverage as she began pumping her hips. The fit was perfect. She was so full. Sweat slipped down her skin, and she shivered. Too many sensations, too much to take in at once. But there was no other option except to take it all, because she couldn’t have stopped moving if her life depended on it. She lifted and lowered herself on his cock, faster and faster, needing that carnal friction, loving the sound of their moans, the slap of skin against skin, the creak of the mattress underneath them.

  Her sex fisted every time she took him deep inside, and she sobbed for breath. Sliding his hand between them, he thumbed her clit. “Come for me, Celia.”

  There was no choice. She imploded, her pussy pulsing around his cock. He dragged it out for her, kept her hips surging to meet his touch on her clitoris. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she catapulted over another peak, her sex contracting so hard that stars burst behind her eyelids.

  She collapsed against him, panting. It took her a few moments to resurface enough to notice the tension running through him, and that he was still thick and hard inside her. That didn’t make sense, and she shook her head to try and clear it. Blinking blurry eyes, she looked up at him. “You didn’t come?”

  “I didn’t want it to be over yet.” His smile was a little strained and a lot wicked. “I promised to fuck your ass, remember?”

  A vivid image formed in her mind of exactly what he described. His big cock, sliding into her stretched anus. Her mouth dried, and just that fast, she was hot and ready again. Her hips rolled a bit, and he groaned. She dropped her forehead to his sweat-dampened shoulder. “There’s a bottle of lube in the bedside table.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I like to use it occasionally…when I self-entertain.” At least, that was the only use this bottle had been put to. It really had been a while since she’d let a man into her bed.

  He made a small, choked sound. “I would love to watch you some time…when you self-entertain.”

  A shiver passed through her at the thought. God, he was naughty. And she liked that about him. “One thing at a time.”

  “Yeah…I want to take my time with you.” His tone added extra meaning to his words, which she chose to ignore. This was not the right moment to argue about their not-going-to-happen future relationship.

  She had other ideas in mind.

  Climbing off of him, she moaned when his cock slid out of her pussy. She crawled over to the side of the mattress, tugged out the drawer to her nightstand and fished around until she came up with the clear container of lube.

  One of his palms slid down her back to cup her sore buttocks. The other hand plucked the lube from her grasp. “I’ll take that.”

  Her arms shook as exhilaration twisted inside her. She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddery breath when he popped open the top of the bottle. His hand continued to stroke over her spanked backside, making tingles break down her skin. Cold lube slid into the crack of her ass, and she squealed, jerking forward, but there was nowhere to go. She was already at the edge of the bed. “You could have warmed it up. Damn it!”

  He chuckled, his palm smacking her butt lightly. “Where’s the fun in that? I like making you react.”

  “I’m noticing that,” she grumbled, wriggling her hips while the lube warmed against her skin. “You better make this up to me.”

  He dropped a kiss on her backside. “I will. I promise.”

  Parting her buttocks, he pressed his fingers to her anus, sliding the liquid into her. She clenched her hands in the sheets, her back bowing at the intensity of the stretch when he added a second, then a third digit. Her breath panted out, sweat slipping down her skin. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sheer visceral experience. All her other senses intensified until her entire world narrowed down to the scent of sex and Mason filling her nose, the sound of their heaving lungs, the rush of her heartbeat thrumming in her ears, the caress of the smooth sheets under her hands and knees, the feel of his fingers moving over her and in her.

  A cry burst from her throat when he pulled away from her, some distant part of her mind uncertain how she’d survive if he left her now, but his voice was a soothing rumble. “Shh… I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”

  The head of his dick nudged at her anus, piercing the ring of muscle and filling her ass. Slowly. Oh, so slowly. It was agony to wait when her body screeched for more, for the satisfaction he could give her. She pushed her hips back, but his hands fitted around her waist, holding tight and not letting her take more of him. They were going at his speed and no faster. She moaned and clamped her inner muscles tight around his thick shaft. “Hurry.”

  He hissed out a breath, and she felt a shudder run through him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” The words were rough and uneven, like his breathing.

  When he was all the way in her, he stayed there for what seemed like forever. There was no pain, just incredible pressure and pleasure as he stimulated her nerve endings. Rocking her ass into his pelvis made them both groan. She wanted a swift drive toward orgasm.

  He withdrew in the same unhurried pace with which he’d entered her, and she thought the anticipation punching through her might send her reeling into madness if he didn’t go faster. Harder. Deeper. Right this very second.

  “Mason, I am going to hurt you if you don’t move your ass.” She shot him a glare over her shoulder.

  A sinful grin creased his cheeks. “Like this, you mean?”

  He arched his hips and plunged into her ass, giving her exactly what she’d asked for. On his next thrust, she pushed back to meet him. She whimpered as his stomach smacked against her aching buttocks. That same lash of white-hot ecstasy whipped through her, pain and pleasure and something far deeper that she didn’t even want to examine. Her heart squeezed, but she shoved away any burgeoning emotions. This was sex, nothing more. This was all she would allow. The only happy endings there were happened at the end of a good shag.

  Holding on to the mindless release he offered her, she worked her body in time with his and refused to think about anything else. Just this. Just him. Nothing else existed. No past, no future, just this moment.

  He filled her ass again, swifter and rougher, using his hold on her waist to pull her back into his strokes, forcing his cock as deep as it would go. Her lungs burned as she moved with him, unable to go fast enough to satisfy herself. It was so good. The best she’d ever known, and even admitting that much was dangerous. She shifted her weight and reached down to fondle her clit in time to his thrusts. He pistoned in and out of her anus, and she moaned with each penetration. Her internal muscles contracted, and t
he orgasm she craved shimmered at the edge of her consciousness, beckoning her to lose all control. She threw herself toward it, shoving her fingers into her pussy and letting the heel of her hand grind against her clit as Mason ground his pelvis against her ass.

  Release broke through her, and she screamed. Her pussy flexed around her fingers, and she could feel his cock moving in her ass through the thin layer of flesh that separated her two channels. His grip on her waist became almost painful, and she could tell how close he was to orgasm by the ragged edge to his breathing. He groaned, shuddering over her as he came as well. After a long moment, he pulled out of her.

  She tumbled sideways, sprawling on the mattress. Well, she’d gotten her wish. There wasn’t a single thought in her head. Bliss buzzed through her system, and she sighed.

  “We’re pretty damn good at this.” Mason collapsed beside her, his hand cupping the back of her thigh.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Imagine how good we’d be with a lot of practice.” His fingers brushed over her skin, trailing up to the sensitized flesh of her backside. She could still feel the heat of his spanking, and goose bumps erupted down her arms and legs. “Years of practice.”

  She stirred, frowning as what he’d said pierced her bubble of contentment. “I think we’re doing fine now. We’ve both had previous practice.”

  “Yeah, but tell me it was as good as this.”

  It would have been easy to shut him down right then and there, but a lie that huge refused to cross her lips. So, instead of giving him what he wanted, she remained silent.

  “Of course, it wasn’t.” He continued stroking her skin, his voice as gentle as his touch. “Chemistry like this doesn’t just come around every day. And you’ve had previous practice, so you know that already.”

  He was right, and she hated it. “So?”

  If she sounded disgruntled, she didn’t give a damn. He’d gone and killed her post-coital glow, and she wasn’t going to pretend she was happy about it.

  “So, imagine having this every day. Any time you wanted.” His voice dropped to a low purr, and he turned his head to look at her.

  “Until everything else turns to crap, and the relationship implodes, and we end up hating each other.” Even though she knew it was true, it still depressed the shit out of her. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.” His tone turned cajoling, convincing, and she hated herself for wanting to believe him.

  “Has it ever turned out better than that for you before? Of course not, or you wouldn’t be single. I prefer to enjoy this moment right here and not weigh it down with all kinds of worry about which way it has to be or should be. Let’s just leave it at that and not push.” She looked at him again, snared by the compelling light in his green eyes. How he could have any hope left after three broken engagements, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to ask. Encouraging him to talk about this would be a stupid thing to do.

  “You have to admit though.” He grinned at her. “That. Was. Awesome.”

  She laughed, the serious moment passing, and she was grateful. She had a feeling he’d broken the tension on purpose, giving her an out because he knew she couldn’t take more. It was surprising, considerate. Not what she’d expect from such a forceful personality.

  “Yeah, it was awesome.”

  Chapter Four

  The man had the persistence of a rabid terrier. Celia growled and swept up a few stray locks of hair around her cutting chair.

  Over the last few weeks, Mason had gotten around her no dating rule by making a habit of showing up at her salon just before closing time. He was also annoyingly good at making himself useful. He’d rewired a dryer that liked to stop for no apparent reason, fixed a clogged sink and generally made her stylists love having him around. When they finished up for the day, he happened to be there to take her to dinner or to talk her into feeding him. It didn’t really matter which option they went with, he inevitably pulled her close, kissed her, stroked his hands over her body. And she was lost. He ended up in her bed every night he wasn’t working at the firehouse.

  Which meant that he was due to show up any time, but she’d found a good excuse not to dine with him tonight. She was going to have to cut this off soon, and she ignored the way that depressed her. She sighed and set the broom aside, glancing around at the two other stylists who were cleaning up for the night. Then her gaze took in the rest of the salon, making sure everything was in place. It was, and it looked great—just the way she wanted it. She’d renovated when she’d purchased the building, retaining the feel of the old barbershop inside like she had outside, while updating to the sleek standards of a modern salon. The result was a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll—perfect for Celia.

  The bell over the door jingled, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Mason. After three weeks, her body was attuned to him. She glanced back and her heart turned over at the little smile that softened the sharp angles of his face. He only used that look on her, and she refused to let herself consider what that might mean. He was not going to win this campaign of his. She knew better than to go down that road again. If she had to remind herself—and him—of that on a regular basis, then that was how it was going to be. She should just cut her losses and run, but she hadn’t been able to do it. Yet. She was enjoying this thing with him too much to walk away. She would, she had to, but not now. It was a stupid, dangerous game she was playing with her own heart, but she couldn’t make herself stop yet.

  He stepped up behind her, closing his hands over her shoulders and kneading out any tension from being on her feet all day. She moaned, her head dropping forward. He kissed the nape of her neck. “Hey, you’re closed Sundays and Mondays, and that’s where my days off fall this week, so let’s do something. Go to the coast and spend the day on the beach.”

  “Nope.” She pulled away from him, though she didn’t want to. It sounded like a great time, but with a man like Mason, if she gave an inch, he’d take a mile. Or ten.

  Picking her purse up from the counter in front of her chair, she caught him watching her in the mirror. He narrowed his gaze at her, assessing, looking for chinks in her armor. “Fine, no beach. I’m taking you next door for dinner right now.”

  “But…”

  He folded his arms, arching one dark brow. “Tell me you have plans. Don’t stop and think about it, be honest.”

  “I have plans,” she retorted defiantly.

  Suspicion filled his expression. “What are they?”

  “I’m going to eat at Aubrey’s.” She’d invited herself over in order to avoid just this situation with Mason. He’d done this to her before…if she didn’t have a ready excuse to avoid him, he managed to get his way.

  Irritation, frustration and calculation flipped rapidly across his face. Then he grinned. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’m sure Price wouldn’t mind some family time.”

  “Shit.” The urge to stomp her foot and launch a hairdryer at his head was almost irresistible. There was no getting around him. If her hormones didn’t do her in, he did. There were only so many fronts she could fight on.

  Another growl erupted from her, and she spun for the door. “Jerry, can you lock up for the night?”

  “Sure thing, sugar lips,” he sang out from the back of the salon, a note of glee in his voice. Of course he was happy. Mason had won round seventy-five of this game between them. At this point, all of her stylists were rooting against her.

  They had a great time at dinner, of course. Aubrey showed off her skills as a chef, and the food was amazing. Seeing Mason with his brother was endearing. They told hilarious stories of their upbringing in Los Angeles, and it was another facet of his personality falling into place. Celia shouldn’t like it, but she did. She couldn’t have asked for a better evening, until Mason insisted on walking her home since it was after dark. Her protests were shut down by Price—there was no arguing safety with the chief of police.


  Once Mason had her to himself, there was no doubt for either of them how the night would end.

  Hours later, they sat propped against her headboard, naked after yet another round of mattress gymnastics. She’d broken out her favorite wine, and he’d run next door to get some dessert. Crumbs were the only reminder of his chocolate silk pie. A moan of utter delight poured from her as she finished the last bite of her blackberry cheesecake.

  “The waitress said that was your favorite, but I had no idea how much you liked it.” He stared at her mouth while she swallowed the creamy sweetness.

  “I’ve told you before, they know me there.”

  He took their plates and forks to set them on the side table. “I thought I’d just gotten lucky with the first server, but they all seem to know you.”

  She patted his shoulder. “Welcome to small town, USA. Everyone knows everyone here. Give yourself another couple of years and you’ll adjust.”

  “So, you grew up in Cedarville?”

  Now there was an unintentionally loaded question. She shifted on the mattress, the springs squeaking under her. “More or less, yeah.”

  “More or less?” His gaze rested on her, and she could feel the force of his curiosity, but she didn’t tend to talk about her past. Or her future. The present was the part that mattered.

  “Yeah.” She hunched her shoulder, doing nothing to encourage this line of discussion.

  Of course he didn’t take the hint. He nudged her arm. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Why do you want to know?” She turned her head to meet his gaze head-on.

  Green eyes narrowed, he studied her face for an uncomfortably long moment. “Because I want to know you.”

  “All I’m willing to offer is sex, so that seems like a bad idea. I try not to borrow trouble.” Because it was going to turn up eventually, so why go looking for it? She’d rather not. “Apparently, I need to remind you—again—that we are not dating.”

  “What, you’ve never had a friend with benefits? It might surprise you how fun it can be—we could end up somewhere good even if neither of us gets exactly what we want.”