by Stella Rhys
“Good. Then cheers.”
I accepted the glass of wine Mason handed me. “To what?”
“The fact that everyone in this room is watching you right now,” he said as he peered out at the restaurant. “So either you show them something right now or I will.”
“That sounds remarkably dirty. What exactly are we talking about?”
“Our recent spectators thanks to your ear-shattering laughter,” Mason said, prompting me to roll my eyes. “I mean we’re supposed to be a couple. Might as well take advantage and explicitly show that right now.”
“What, you want a kiss or something?”
“Since you offered so sensually.”
“Shut it.”
Mason laughed. “A passionate gesture of any sort if what I’m looking for. Now before we lose our audience, who’s doing it? You or me?”
My eyes fluttered. “What? I don’t know,” I muttered, feeling awkward and rushed. But since I was afraid of what liberties Mason might take with a sexy public gesture, I finally blurted, “I’ll do it,” and slapped a hand square on his chest, leaning hastily into his body to sell it. “There. Done,” I breathed out in relief but then I blinked. Shit. I stared down at my palm – at my fingers dipping into the deep-cut lines of Mason’s muscled chest. The heat of his body under my skin lit my cheeks right on fire, but they burned for different reasons when he broke the silence and laughed.
“Very sexy, Taylor. You nailed it.”
“What?” My tone was defensive despite knowing that there was nothing visually erotic about what I just did. I basically smacked him and stuck my face a few inches closer to his. Still, that didn’t change the fact that his pecs felt like fucking steel under my hands. That sexiness was undeniably real, but it didn’t keep Mason from snorting at me.
“I don’t know, Taylor. That felt more domestic dispute than it did tender, loving moment.”
My face flushed pink but I snorted, shaking my head at the sheer entertainment gleaming in his eyes. “Fine, asshole. You want sexy?”
“I do,” he smirked. “Show me sexy.”
“You got it – babe.”
Before he could hit back with any snarky reply, I dropped my hand from his chest, stroking down the front of his body and curling my fingertips against every solid ridge of his six-pack. Jesus. I nearly shuddered. Just touching him gave me a painfully vivid picture of what those insane abs looked like naked and it made me rake my bottom lip between my teeth. Biting back the mischief that curled my mouth, I hooked my fingers into the top of his jeans, my knuckles brushing cashmere before they pressed against his hard, bare hipbone. Ho-ly shit. I could feel the absolute heat emanating from his smooth skin as I realized my fingers were only inches from, well, that famously endowed cock of his. I let myself process that – the fact that if I slid my touch just a bit further down on Mason, I’d brush against that incredibly thick root I caught the clear outline of the other day at my apartment. God, I probably wouldn’t even be able to wrap my hand around it completely hard.
Jesus, Taylor, I exhaled. And before my imagination got too carried away, I let go of him. Good God. Did I just fucking do that?
Wetting my lips, I looked up at Mason’s face stripped of smugness, his chiseled features overcome with a look of – was it? – yes, that was plain, thick lust in his eyes that had me almost writhing in my seat. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Sexy enough for you?”
“If I say no, will you keep going?”
I broke into a laugh. “You really want me to go further than that in public?”
“I’ll take more wherever you’ll give it to me. We can go in the coat check or the fucking walk-in cooler. I’ll tell Noah to clear out the kitchen.”
“As romantic as that sounds, no.”
“Fine,” Mason laughed. With a low groan, he sat up again, spreading in his seat so that our legs pressed tight against each other, our thighs practically exchanging heat.
“What, you’re squishing me now as punishment?” I cocked my eyebrow. When he shook his head, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Making room in my pants for the damage you did.”
Peering instinctively down at his crotch, my jaw dropped and my head snapped quickly up again to stare ahead. Holy hell – how? Somehow, the damage I’d done in two seconds of faked sexiness was significant enough to require some very extensive snaking down the left leg of his jeans. Seriously. Last week’s under-the-pants outline was absolutely nothing compared to today and it had me suddenly experiencing all my shock in the form of throbbing between my legs. Shit. Arching my back, I sat forward, refusing to let Mason catch the look on my face. “I just need a minute here,” he laughed, clearly entertained by my discomfort.
“That’s fine,” I returned, quickly inserting myself into the travel conversation going on across from me. Despite immersing myself quickly, throwing in bits of my own road tripping stories here and there, my body was still buzzing, completely flooded with heat. Probably because Mason had yet to move or speak behind me and the thought of his blood still rushing hot to one place was driving my pulse through the roof. Minutes passed and our legs still hot against each other, his dick apparently still throbbing through denim. I had actually caught the twitch under his jeans before looking away and five minutes later, I was still envisioning it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, nor could I believe that my little stunt had gotten a guy like Mason Leo hard as a rock in the middle of a fucking restaurant.
Caving, I finally glanced over my shoulder at him. Lord. It was instant fucking arousal when I found him looking visibly tortured as he sat back, his jaw slack and his heavy-lidded stare pinned to my backside. When he lifted it to me, I expected a laugh or a smirk or some kind of smug look but I got nothing – just the hot intensity of his gaze sending sparks of electricity across my skin.
“Excuse me,” I said suddenly, deciding that I needed desperately to use the restroom – or any space where I could avoid Mason for a second. Because despite the conversation I carried on easily with his friends, all I could think of was one dirty, filthy and seriously uncharacteristic thing.
Giving him relief.
Seriously, Taylor? I couldn’t believe myself, nor could I erase the image of my aching fingers curling, wrapping tight around him and feeling just how hot, hard and thick he was. I was being legitimately crazy and I told myself that. But I also told myself that all I needed was a quick look in the mirror and splash of water on my face to remember who I was, where I was and how much I didn’t actually want to give Mason Leo a public handjob. In fact, I didn’t want to give him one anywhere.
“Okay,” I exhaled, comfortably locked in the dimly lit bathroom and staring at my reflection. My cheeks were rosy and my lips were red, swollen as if I’d been kissing someone. Gathering my hair off my hot neck, I rolled my head back and closed my eyes. I thought about the deal I’d struck with Mason – about the fact that anything going on between us was a product solely of that. I thought about how this act was for Aaron and about how long it’d been since I’d had sex with him or anyone else. That was the obvious culprit for the sudden fever just now. I mean I’d gotten laid at least four times a week for three years till Aaron left. In the past nine weeks, I’d had nothing. I was in a drought, thirsty and susceptible to heat. That explained pretty much everything.
You’re fine, I told myself, repeating it till I believed it enough to run my hand through my hair and open the door. You’re fine, I repeated.
But once I stepped in the hall, I gasped.
“Taylor.”
“What’s up, princess?”
Two familiar faces grinned wide at me – a sandy blonde in a slate blue suit and a goateed idiot drenched as usual in cologne. Tripp and Trevor. Fuck, I forgot which was which but I knew I hated them both. They were former colleagues of Aaron and I’d found them crude, immature and insufferable even before they planned my then-fiancé’s secret going away party – or in my mind, his “leaving Taylor in the d
ust” party.
“Hi,” I said curtly, knowing well from the leering looks in their eyes that they had nothing good to say. “Excuse me,” I said, stepping past them and walking away before I had to hear any of their bullshit.
“Saw you jerking Mase under the table just now,” one of them called after me. My stomach lurched. Begrudgingly, I stopped to turn around, my heart thumping at the loathsome, disgusting looks on both their faces. “Good stuff. Love seeing you lose the classiness for once. It was always kind of boring.”
“First of all, that’s obviously not what was happening,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Second, you’re friends of Aaron and considering you threw his goodbye party, you know that he left me to marry another woman, so it’s honestly more than fair game for me to have moved on.”
“To his brother though? That’s cold. I mean once upon a time, I’m pretty sure you hated that guy,” said the blonde, whichever his stupid name was.
“Yeah, and now you’re fucking him? Considering you hated us too, does that mean we’re next?”
I stared at them both. “Excuse me?”
“Tripp and I are happy to volunteer for the job if you’re just fucking anyone to piss off Aaron.” Trevor rubbed his goatee slowly, in a way that had my skin crawling and my legs feeling like lead. “Just call us when you and Mase are done bumping nasties.”
Tripp laughed .“Don’t worry, Tay, no threesomes. We’ll just take turns with a good girl like you.”
I couldn’t leave faster. My heart was pounding, their laughter fading from my ears as I stormed furiously away, my heels clicking so loudly and rapidly Mason caught my eye from well across the dining room. He sat up fast, frowning hard at whatever look was stricken on my face. Before I could even get back to the table, he was up and pacing toward me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping me at the end of the bar.
“Aaron’s friends,” was all I muttered, my voice trembling.
“Which ones? Where?” Mason demanded, already heated. Peering toward the front door, I watched Tripp and Trevor shrug their coats on, smiling as they watched me. But the smiles fell off their faces when Mason followed my eye line to find them. Suddenly, they were getting dressed a bit faster. “What did they do?”
“Asked if it was their turn with me next.”
I had barely finished my sentence before Mason was rushing toward the door, prompting Tripp to shove Trevor fast out the restaurant. “Mason, wait,” I pleaded. A hush had fallen over the room and I was well aware that at least half the restaurant was watching now as I tried to stop Mason from chasing two morons out into the cold. “Mase!” I hissed as he pushed out the front doors and onto the freezing cold sidewalk. Shit, shit, shit, I cursed as I hurried to follow.
Outside, the wind whipped me relentlessly. Hair flying backward, my shoulders shrugged and I hugged myself tight as I looked around for Mason. “Fuck,” I cursed when I heard a near comical yelp coming from the side of the restaurant. Turning the corner, my wild eyes caught Tripp speeding away in the back of a cab before they found Mason, his expression blank and calm as he muttered an inch from Trevor’s red face. A vein bulged from Trevor’s forehead as he stood pinned to the wall by Mason’s flexed forearm pushing against his throat without mercy.
“Oh my God – Mase!” I yelled, bursting forward. “Stop!”
He finished whatever he was snarling under his breath at Trevor, sending the message home with a hard glare before letting go. He watched Trevor crumble, not quite to the ground, but enough for one last bruise to the ego. In shock, I stood there, shivering furiously and staring as Mason stood undaunted in the freezing cold, sleeves rolled up and his gaze almost bored as he watched Trevor struggle to regain his footing. Grabbing the back of his collar, Mason pulled him to his feet. “Apologize to her.”
“Sorry.”
Mason glanced at me. He read my expression then turned back to Trevor. “Try it again.”
Making eye contact this time, Trevor spoke shakily through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry, Taylor. Bad joke and I apologize.”
He didn’t mean it but I didn’t want to look at him for another second so I nodded and muttered, “Just go.” He did but I heard him mutter slut under his breath right after he turned the corner. My gaze flicked quickly to Mason to make sure he didn’t hear. He didn’t. The tightness in his jaw had relaxed and he was coming toward me now.
“You alright?” he asked, sounding more casual than I could process. I studied him, unsure of what to make of my emotions. Now I had shock and gratitude joining my embarrassment and shame. I wished it would all just cancel each other out but instead, it all broiled together to confuse the hell out of me.
“I’m fine,” I finally said. “You didn’t have to defend me.” I was half expecting to hear the words “I wanted to” but Mason moved straight past the topic.
“Should we get you inside? You’re going to freeze.” His eyes lowered to my shivering body and though he stood close, he didn’t touch or try to warm me. Still hugging myself, I shook my head.
“I think I need a minute. Kind of humiliated.”
“Why?” Mason frowned. “Those idiots should be the ones who are embarrassed.”
I could feel the bitterness in my smile. “They’re idiots but they aren’t completely off base to think what they think. You have a reputation and I’m freshly heartbroken. It’s going to look to most people like you’re taking advantage of me right now, it’s just the truth.”
It was quiet for a second. “Well what can I do?”
“What – to show them I’m not another one of your dirty, one-week flings?” I had to laugh as I rubbed my arms to warm myself. “Short of marrying me, nothing. And I guess I’m realizing that a little too late,” I said, my eyes on the floor now as I thought about how stupid I probably looked to everyone inside that restaurant. Goddamnit, Taylor. Mason came off great – like he’d just landed his most interesting conquest yet. But all I looked like was desperate, foolish and soon-to-be used. Fuck. Now I wasn’t so sure it was the cold I was shuddering over.
“That can’t be true. There has to be something I can do,” Mason said, a frown knitting his brows.
“I don’t think there is. And I’m pretty certain now that overtly sexy gestures in public won’t do anything but make me look even more like one of your cheap hookups, so yeah. Definitely putting an end to that one,” I muttered, feeling myself getting negative. “Anyway.” I nodded inside. “I’m cold.”
Back inside, we returned to our seats and I let Mason do the talking this time. Much to my relief, Noah was out from the kitchen and effectively distracting everyone with talks of some party he was throwing tomorrow night. I smiled with the rest of them, acted interested and complimented the food. But I was numb inside and while no one else noticed, Mason seemed to sense it because as the rest of the table chatted, he put his arm around me, leaning in close to my ear.
“I’ll figure something out, alright?” he murmured. I caught Sofia’s doting eyes on us across the table as Mason gently squeezed my arm. She grinned at me, clearly assuming that he was whispering sweet nothings in my ear when it was quite the opposite. “Just because I’m not marrying you doesn’t mean we can’t make you look like my girlfriend instead of some cheap fling.”
“Sure,” I said. He sounded genuine but I took his words with a grain of salt, shrugging his arm off my shoulder as I realized that in terms of image, the perks of our arrangement were a little one-sided. Angling his body toward me, Mason tilted his head to meet my eye.
“What, is this our first fight as a couple?”
I cut my eyes to him but gave no answer. I wanted to tell him that I was out – that our deal was done and I’d transfer back the absurd amount of money he put in my account. But I felt my mood shifting as my eyes trailed from the bow of his lips up the blade of his nose, landing finally on those pools of blue boring into me. Damn it. I cursed myself as I surrendered with an answer.
“Yes.”
“Well, I guess that’s a rite of passage for us.”
“Maybe.”
“I’d crack a joke about make-up sex but I have a hunch it’d be poorly received.”
I suppressed my amusement. “At least you’re starting to learn.”
“Everyone has to start somewhere. And hey, in honor of our first fight, I promise to find some way to make it up to you.”
“Good luck,” I said brusquely. Studying me, Mason smirked.
“You should know I have a history of being turned on by angry women so it’s really in your best interest to forgive me.”
I snorted. “That explains a lot about your personality.”
“To be clear, it’s not like I start arguments for the pleasure of it. I’m just saying that angry sex is generally good sex, so for that reason, I might get turned on by an incredibly attractive woman who’s pissed off at me. Call it a Pavlovian response.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Fancy term.”
“Shit, right. Should I avoid words more than three syllables now that I know you didn’t go to college?”
“God.” I turned away from him, laughing despite myself.
“Hey, none of that. I earned that smile, so let me see it.” I ignored Mason to lean forward on the table, trying to get Sofia’s attention but he pulled me easily back, leaning into me and catching my jaw. My pulse picked up as he gave that sexy laugh and turned me to face him. “Don’t be stubborn,” he murmured as I stared skyward with my grin bitten back. “Let me see those lips.”
Fuck. Something about his words prickled hot over my skin and just like that, the deep throbbing returned between my thighs. It swelled deeper as Mason drew his thumb over my bottom lip to coax it out, a crooked smile twisting the corner of his mouth as he eyed my bitten, red lips.
“There she is,” Mason laughed as I reminded myself to breathe because fuck, that face was even more dangerously handsome up close and personal. Damn it, Mase. Thrill and sheepishness buzzed in my cheeks as I sensed the rest of the table watching now. There were little coos and giggles from the girls but it was Noah who finally spoke up for the guys.