Price of a Kiss

by Linda Kage

  My veins jolted with a surge of adrenaline.

  But really. This was so awesome. I couldn’t have scheduled her arrival any better than if I’d sent her an itinerary.

  Enter one skanky landlady, stage left.

  I was just finishing up the zip code when she strolled into the kitchen, carrying an empty wine glass and wearing a slinky green and black teddy.

  Which Mason would never see her wearing.

  She skidded to a halt when she spotted me, her stilettoes making her stumble. It was kind of comical, so I grinned as I waved at her in the most affable manner ever. “Hey. Cute nighty. Victoria’s Secret, am I right?”

  Then I laughed as I pointedly pushed the send button right in front of her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She stormed forward, jerking her laptop out of my hands and sliding it around to face her so she could see what I’d done.

  “Oh, I just thought I’d come over to let you know Mason wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.” With a shrug and guilty roll of my eyes, I confessed, “I kind of intercepted the text you sent him this morning.” Wrinkling my nose, I sent her an apologetic cringe. “Sorry, but he never saw it.”

  “What…” Mrs. Garrison was too busy staring at her screen in confusion to listen to me. “What did you do on my computer?”

  “I emailed Jeremy. Told him where I was and what name I was going under. I mean, wasn’t that what you kept threating to do if Mason didn’t keep servicing you?” This time I nailed a shocked expression like a pro. “My God, you weren’t bullshitting him, were you?”

  Mrs. Garrison clicked into her send history, and her mouth fell open as she read the message I’d just sent. “What…why…” She shook her head, at a total loss for words.

  “Okay, I have to know,” I said in a conversational manner as her face flamed red with confusion and anger. “Are those genuine Christian Louboutin shoes or knock-offs? Because I have always wanted to own a genuine Louboutin heel. And I would be pea green with envy if I knew you owned a pair. Are they very comfortable? Not that comfort really matters when your feet are wrapped in a pair of—”

  “Are you totally insane? Why…why would you tell him where you are? You should be scared to death of this psycho.”

  “Oh, trust me, I am. But insane?” I snorted and waved an unconcerned hand. “What a subjective term. I mean, what one person might consider totally normal—like, I don’t know…forcing her young, unwilling neighbor to have sex with her repeatedly—another person might think is totally repugnant. So, from your point of view, yeah, I probably look pretty much off my rocker right about now for sacrificing my own safety for the sake of saving the man I love from being blackmailed by a sick, vindictive, old spinster.”

  Mrs. Garrison’s jaw tensed. “You’re as annoying as you are crazy.”

  I pretended to think about it for a moment. “Meh. Maybe. My parents do keep trying to send me to a therapist. For the crazy part, not the annoying one. And I guess I can see where they’re coming from. I mean, being pinned against a wall with a knife to my throat by someone I thought loved me did kind of mess with my head for a while. But, you know what, I’m kind of glad I did email him…oops.”

  I covered my mouth and giggled. “I mean, I’m glad you emailed him and told him where I was. I was seriously getting tired of always being afraid, of always glancing over my shoulder and expecting him to be hiding in every shadow.” I let out a refreshed sigh. “I’m glad this is almost over, you know. And hey, if he kills me this time, you’ll catch some of the blame for telling him where I was.”

  Vibrating with fury, Mrs. Garrison hissed at me. “Get out of my house.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “With pleasure.” Tossing my hair, I slid off her bar stool. “Oh, but one more thing.” I whipped out my hand and slapped her as hard as I could, actually wrenching her face to the side with the force of my blow. “Don’t ever touch Mason again. Or I swear to God, I’ll go even more psycho on your ass.”

  Mrs. Garrison straightened and wiped her face just below her nose with a trembling hand. When she came away with blood on her fingers, I gaped. Holy swinging palms, Batman; I’d drawn blood.

  Cool.

  “I hope Walden kills you slowly,” she snarled, her hazel eyes glowing with hatred.

  I grinned pleasantly. “If he does, I’ll make sure to come back as a nasty poltergeist just to brutally haunt you.” Twirling away, I strolled out of her house.

  Mrs. Garrison had actually kind of disappointed me. She’d let me go without a fight. Humph. Chicken. I’d been all keyed up to kick some cougar ass, too.

  Oh, well, such was life. C'est la vie. Maybe I could beat up the next woman who tried to hurt my man.

  I drove home, feeling truly powerful for the first time in too long. As all those women had taken a piece of control away from Mason and made him feel cheap and used, Jeremy had taken away the same thing from me.

  Fighting back, standing up for myself, taking control again felt nice. Felt good. Felt like I totally needed to celebrate somehow.

  As luck would have it, a familiar Jeep sat parked in my spot when I pulled into the Mercers’ driveway. When I saw the sexy owner of said Jeep sitting on the top step in front of my apartment, waiting for me, I grinned.

  Parking my car beside his, I killed the engine and leapt from the driver’s seat, full of smiles.

  “Mason,” I squealed as I flew up all fifteen steps. “What’re you doing here?” I crawled right into his lap and wrapped my arms around him. “Oh, my God. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

  Kissing him before he could answer, I took control of his mouth, much the same way I’d just taken control of Mrs. Garrison. I showed them both who was boss. Oh, yes, I did.

  Mason didn’t seem to mind as he kissed me back, thrusting with his tongue just as heartily as I was and entwining it with mine. Then, scooping me up by the butt, he cupped both cheeks and stood.

  See, I told you he had some impressive muscles.

  Not even breaking the kiss, he swung us toward my front door. “I couldn’t stay away,” he managed to explain breathlessly between kisses. “I couldn’t leave things like they were. Jesus, where the hell have you been?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  “Mmph.” He seemed fine with that and kicked the door shut behind us as soon as we gained entrance.

  We attacked each other. Right there against the door of my apartment.

  I think I needed to release some of the adrenaline still thrumming through my system after my one and only stint of B & E as badly as he needed reassurance that I wasn’t still freaked out over the text I’d read earlier.

  “Wow,” I said as soon as my tongue would allow me to speak intelligible words again. “I had no idea breaking the law could make a girl so crazy horny.”

  I wilted down the surface of the door until I was sitting on the welcome mat, pleasantly dazed by how amazing the evening had turned out.

  Mason slumped down beside me. “Do I even want to know what you mean by that?”

  I grinned. And told him everything.

  His mouth fell open. “You did what? But, you…she…how could you send him your new identity? Are you insane?”

  He sounded a little too much like his landlady, so I scowled. Then I remembered I had sent that email, hadn’t I?

  “Oh, that reminds me. I’d better check my inbox of that new account I set up this morning.”

  I crawled to my purse I’d dropped beside the welcome mat and dug around inside until I found my cell phone. “I created it under the name Jeremy Walden. Need to check if I have any incoming messages.” As I clicked my way into the inbox, I winked at Mason. “And what do you know, I do.”

  I turned the screen to show him the email from Patricia Garrison.

  He gaped before sending me a stunned glance. “You faked her out.”

  I tossed my hair and preened. “Yep. Now…how would Jeremy respond to this letter?” Tapping my chin, I contemplated.
“If you were a psycho stalker ex-boyfriend, what would you say?”

  Mason scooted closer to be a part of the planning process. “Thanks?” he suggested.

  “Perfect.” I kissed his cheek and got a little distracted, needing to kiss his nose next, then his mouth. Before I totally lost my focus, I pulled back, bit my lip, and started typing.

  Thanks. I owe you one.

  “There.” I pushed send and looked up. “That sounds like something he’d say. I’ll delete the account later, just to make sure she doesn’t reply.”

  Mason appeared overcome. “This was dangerous, Reese. I can’t believe you risked so much just to free me from her.”

  “Hey.” Cupping his face in my hands, I admitted, “I would risk it a thousand times over to help you any way I could.”

  He pressed his forehead against mine. “I still don’t deserve you.”

  “But I’m here anyway,” I teased, tipping my face so that I could flutter my lashes against his cheek in a butterfly kiss. “Whatever will you do with me now?”

  Tugging me closer, he settled my body against his and brushed the hair out of my face. “I guess I’ll just have to cherish you with every breath I have.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Mason hadn’t shown up on my doorstep with a lot of forethought. He totally forgot to bring a fresh pair of clothes, or his school things, otherwise we could’ve washed each other in the shower—kind of like how we’d squished into my dinky bathroom on both Saturday and Sunday to have way too much fun with the soap—and gone to classes together on Monday morning.

  But, I had a feeling there’d only been one thing on his mind when he’d driven over the night before.

  Such a guy.

  He rolled out of bed and left me with a lingering kiss, telling me he’d sit with me at lunch. Then he was gone.

  I rushed through my morning ablutions, hoping I’d get to see him before our first class. But no. I slunk into Brit Lit, depressed because I’d missed him. I didn’t even realize Eva was absent from her typical seat next to me until halfway through the hour.

  Yikes, I hope her breakup with Alec wasn’t hitting her too hard. She had enough on her plate as it was. I also hoped she hadn’t told her parents about the baby yet. I wanted to be with her, holding her hand when she did, and I hadn’t exactly been available the entire weekend to do much hand holding.

  God, I had to be the worst friend ever. I texted her during my free hour, but she didn’t return my call.

  I cringed, hoping it was only morning sickness keeping her from checking in and not anger over the fact I had totally blown her off for the past two days.

  I thought of Mason all the way through calculus. We’d eventually gotten our math assignment done on Saturday, but I wasn’t sure he’d been able to concentrate very well on his equations. I hoped his being with me didn’t cause him to flunk.

  Yes, I was beginning to worry about everything this morning. But something strange had me on edge. A feeling in the air, a freaky premonition that life was going too well. I wasn’t sure what it was. I just seriously wanted it to go away so I could return to the euphoria I’d been dwelling in for the last forty-eight hours.

  When I stepped out of class, I automatically glanced around for Mason. Sometimes, we passed each other coming and going here because he had class in this room directly after I did. Today, I really looked forward to brushing by him—wink, wink.

  But a familiar face sitting on a bench not far from the doorway stopped me cold. A handful of students walked past, blocking my view, making me panic, because I was sure the vision would be gone when they passed. I told myself my paranoia was getting to me too much today. But after the students moved on, he still sat there, waiting.

  For me.

  My knees buckled and I had to clutch the wall to support myself. I froze, not sure what to do.

  I could scream and run. I could approach him boldly. I could silently try to slip away, hiding behind clusters of people.

  But I just stood there, staring at my psycho stalker ex-boyfriend as he leered back with one of his infamous gloating smirks.

  “Found you,” he mouthed the words so clearly I could actually read what he said.

  I turned away from him, planning to stride off, even though I knew that wouldn’t get me far. But then the worst thing possible happened.

  Mason appeared, messenger bag slung over his shoulder as he approached his next class. He grinned when he saw me, a warm, private smile that held all the secrets of our weekend passion.

  Oh, God. I loved him so much. I could not let Jeremy near him. Jeremy would kill him if he knew how important Mason was to me.

  But nothing was going to stop either guy from approaching.

  As Jeremy stood, I reacted before my brain could fully process what I was planning. I hurried to Mason. “Professor McGonagall,” I gasped. “Thank God I ran into you.”

  Yes, I know I used a Harry Potter character for him, and a female one at that. But it wasn’t as if I had a whole lot of a time to concoct a foolproof strategy. I was working straight from the hip here. And doing just fine if you ask me.

  Besides, Jeremy had never once cared about my Harry Potter craze. He wouldn’t know the difference. The clueless Muggle.

  Rushing to unzip my bag, I said, “I know it was due last Friday, but I finished my paper and I would really appreciate it if you’d reconsider accepting it late.”

  As I yanked my graded Wife of Bath essay from my bag—which had received an A; boo yah!—I finally dared to look up into Mason’s face.

  Biting the inside of my lip, I prayed he would play along.

  He blinked once, okay, twice. Then he said, “I told you no late assignments, Miss Randall.”

  God, I loved him. He fell right into line with my act perfectly. Then again, by the amused twinkle in his eyes, he probably thought this was some kind of kinky naughty schoolgirl foreplay.

  “But I worked on it all weekend.” The little hitch in my voice—because I was all keyed up about seeing Jeremy—sounded classic. Hmm. Maybe I should drop virology completely and take up acting.

  Mason lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “All weekend, hmm?” The twist of his lips told me he knew otherwise. “On a paper you were supposed to be working on all semester?”

  Jeez, did he have to play it quite this good?

  I almost glowered at him. But I was still too freaked out about my psycho stalker ex hovering a mere ten feet away, listening to every word we said.

  “Please,” I rasped, the fear filtering through me until his expression finally sparked with concern. “Could you just give it a look?”

  He nodded with a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But this is the last time I’ll make allowances for you.”

  When he tried to take the paper from me, I jerked it back. “Wait. I…I need to sign my name.”

  My hands shook so hard that when I fumbled my way into my backpack, a tear actually dripped from my cheek.

  Mason had mercy on me. “Here,” he said, holding out his own pen, his brows wrinkling as if he was finally figuring out this was not a playful, bantering game.

  “Thanks.” I took it from him and lifted my knee to scribble Jer is here right below where my name was already typed onto the sheet.

  I handed it to him and he barely glanced over what I’d written.

  “I see.” His eyes flashed to me. “You know, maybe we should go to my office and discuss this in more detail. I have an idea how you can make up some extra credit points.”

  “No.” I shook my head. I needed to get him as far away from me—and therefore as far away from Jeremy—as possible before Jeremy realized who Mason really was. I took a step back. “No, I need to get to my next class.”

  Mason—damn him for caring so much—wasn’t about to let me go anywhere by myself. “Reese.” He grasped my arm. “Where?” he asked so quietly, only I could hear. He didn’t even move his lips as he spoke.

  Before I could answer—not that I was really
going to tell him where Jeremy was—a familiar, super creepy arm slithered around my waist.

  Jeremy’s potent aftershave gagged me as he tightened his grip.

  “There’s my Reese’s Pieces,” he murmured in my ear, cuddling in close. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, baby.”

  My entire body went rigid against his, and I could only imagine how white my face was as I gaped up at Mason.

  I decided right then and there, I’d never seen him truly mad before. His jaw popped before he turned his attention to Jeremy and looked pointedly at the other man’s arm wrapped around me.

  Jeremy hitched his chin in greeting. “So, you’re one of Reese’s professors, huh? You look kind of young to be a teacher.”

  “That’s because I’m not,” Mason answered, his voice hard and tight. When he jerked his bag off his shoulder and tossed it to the floor by his feet, both Jeremy and I glanced down at it in confusion.

  Neither one of us saw the fist that came streaking out of nowhere.

  But seriously, Mason hitting Jeremy in the jaw was flat out amazing. He moved so fast, I had no warning until the slap of flesh and crunch of nose cartilage made me scream out a startled yelp. Jeremy’s grip left me, and he toppled over backward, landing on his ass in the middle of the hallway.

  “You hit him,” I said in utter shock, blinking at Jeremy on the floor before I looked up at Mason with the same stunned gaze. “I can’t believe you just hit him.”

  That hadn’t been in my plans at all. But I liked this new turn of events. A lot.

  “He tried to kill you,” Mason argued with me as if he thought my shock was from disapproval. “Hell, yes, I hit him.”

  I gawked a moment longer before I shook my head. “But that was just so…cool.”

  Mason’s proud grin was instant. His eyes flashed with heat and he stepped toward me as if he wanted to do a little celebratory kissing.

  But, of course, simply hitting the bad guys never kept them down.

  One second, my wonderful, amazing, spider-killing, stalker-punching, ex-gigolo soul mate was shifting toward me, looking like he wanted to take me against the wall of the school’s hallway. The next, he noticed something on the floor. His face contorted in horror, and he shoved me—yes, shoved me—aside before he dove on top of Jeremy.