I take the one closest to her and hold it out to her. She keeps her eyes on me but accepts it.
“Here’s to things we know we shouldn’t do,” I tell her with a smile, lifting my glass and extending it for a toast.
Slowly, so very slowly, that bit of happiness comes back to her. Her eyes keep flickering with uncertainty to the floor and across the room.
“Here’s to happiness,” she says with feigned confidence, making her shoulders straighter as she clinks her glass against mine and then throws it back. She slams hers down on the bar while I’m still left holding mine and watching her every move.
I toss it back as she picks up her clutch, obviously ready to pay for the shots.
“Don’t,” I tell her with more strength in my voice than I should have used. I lighten my tone as I say, “It’s on me.” I hesitate then add, “I was just getting ready to leave.”
She watches me warily, but I look toward Patricia as I get out my own wallet. All the while paying attention to Jules in my periphery.
“Well, thank you… what’s your name?” she asks.
“Mason,” I answer her hoping she’s never heard of me, but she brightens and nods her head.
“Thatcher. Yes, I thought I recognized you.” She bites the inside of her cheek as something hits her. Her expression falls slightly. “I’m sorry to hear-”
I cut off her apology, and then pass my card to Patricia. “To happiness, right?” It hurts me to say the words, but I don’t bother to hide it.
That only makes her lips turn down into an alluring frown, somehow making her look even more beautiful. We’re both in pain. Both getting over something. Only this shit I did to myself and she’s collateral damage.
She catches the glimpse of someone behind me and it makes her turn to the bar again, her back straight and the playfulness gone.
“To happiness, and to the things that we want,” I tell her as I sign the receipt and leave the pen on the bar. I spear my fingers through my hair, feeling the heat of the moment and the buzz of the liquor starting to affect me.
I glance at her and watch as she closes her eyes. It’s affecting her too. She’s easy prey -- beautiful, naive, innocent. I’m an asshole for doing it, but I can’t help that I want her.
“I’m gonna get out of here,” I say then let my eyes roam down her body, not hiding what I want from her. “You wanna come with?”
Chapter 6
Julia
It’s in pain that choices are clear.
We show ourselves what we desire.
We may fight it, want to deny it,
but in weakness, we fall in the fire.
To the things that we want.
Mason’s words keep echoing in my ears. I know I’m buzzed, but the odd mix of anxiety and relaxation running through me are from something else. It’s the realization that I’m at a crossroads. I’m standing in front of an open door and I know that going through would change everything. It would put my world into motion again, moving me forward, shoving me from the stagnant still place I’ve been in these last few months.
There would be no way to go back, but there’s no telling who I’d be once I’m on the other side. My body is ringing with desire and adrenaline.
Mason Thatcher. I’ve heard of him. The pictures I’ve seen don’t do his broad shoulders and muscular frame justice. The rough stubble on his jaw begs me to reach up and brush my fingertips against it. He’s tall and handsome… and a player. A man I shouldn’t be caught dead talking to. My husband would have killed me for having drinks with a man like Mason.
But Jace has left me all alone. And Mason’s so much more than I thought I could want in a man.
My body temperature rises as the tequila drifts into my blood. I lick my lower lip and then rip my eyes from his hard body. I noticed his hands first, rough and callused although he’s in a suit. It’s clear they’re from years of hard work, something most of the men in here know little about. Actual manual labor.
I try to relax some and casually lean against the bar, slipping my pointer finger into the empty shot glass and forcing it onto its side. I don’t know why and it probably makes me appear drunker than I am, but I don’t care.
“Mason, do you like tequila?” I ask him and this time when I speak, there’s a bit of flirtiness in my voice. Guilt weighs heavily in my chest, but only briefly before the alcohol numbs the memories. I’ve been alone for too long.
Mason’s steel grey eyes roam over the curves of my waist and ass. He’s bold, licking his lips and then taking a step forward to lean against the bar with me. He’s close enough that the heat of his body makes me that much hotter.
I want to know what it’s like for a man like him to pin me beneath him. To take me how he wants me. I close my eyes as the heat rises into my cheeks from the intensity of his stare.
“I do,” he replies and his voice is low and rough, and it does bad things to me. I rest my head in my hand, loving and hating the way the alcohol soothes the pain.
I’m ready to move on, aren’t I? Maybe not, but I’m ready to feel. I look back at him, realizing he’s just answering my question. I’m a bit more than tipsy, but I’m still here and present and I know what I want.
Even if I’ll hate myself in the morning, it’s one night of not going back to that large, empty house alone.
The tight pull of two small hands at my waist and Sue’s loud voice, make my heart scream in my chest and I swear to God I almost have a damn heart attack. I feel like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Jules, Jasper’s out front,” Sue starts talking to me like she has no idea she just scared the shit out of me.
My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face her fully, my eyes flickering from the man candy on my right and then back to her.
Caught red handed.
It takes a moment for me to realize what Sue said and a moment for her to catch on to what I was about to do.
She eyes Mason cautiously, but before she can say a word, I speak up, “Jasper?”
Although it comes out like a question, it’s more of a curse.
Sue gives me a sympathetic look as she explains, “The exhibition at Ruppert Park must’ve ended.” Jasper’s with the New York Post. And every fucking time he sees me, he has a question and I know whatever I say will end up quoted in the papers the very next morning. He’s not kind like the others. I would rather not see Jasper’s scrawny ass right now.
I let out a heavy breath, looking through the crowd and towards the entrance. I don’t feel like dealing with this shit.
“And what are you doing here?” Sue’s question is directed at Mason who’s standing behind me, leaning against the bar and looking sexy as fuck. He doesn’t seem to mind the interruption at all. He gives Sue a lazy smile that brings back the heat between my thighs full force.
“Just leaving actually.” Jesus, his voice is as smooth as velvet.
One split second passes and a wide grin spreads across Sue’s face, her dark hair sways, brushing against her cheek as she knowingly looks between the two of us. I lean backward, gripping the stool behind me and wanting an escape. It’s one thing to flirt with the idea, it’s another for everyone to know it.
Sue looks pointedly at Mason’s cock and raises a brow, which only makes me want to bury my face in my hands.
“Are you ready to leave?” I ask Sue. I take a step away from Mason, gripping my clutch in my hand tighter and feeling completely ready to get the fuck out of here. There’s not enough tequila in the world to numb the sobriety that the mention of Jasper brings me.
“You two get out of here,” Sue says, stopping me in my tracks.
“What’d you say your name was?” she asks Mason.
“Mason Thatcher.” He extends a hand to Sue and she takes his hand coyly with both of hers. I can’t fucking help that I stare daggers at where their hands meet. This possessiveness I feel towards Mason is something I’m not used to, and I don’t fucking like it. There’s no r
eason I should even give a damn. He was just a fun idea. But mostly, a bad idea.
“Mason,” Sue says and her voice drips with sex appeal. It always does. She’s a cold-hearted bitch to some but just as vivacious and insatiable as she was ten years ago when I first met her during my freshman year of college.
She leans in slightly and I get a good look down her blouse. Her necklace shifts so that the thin gold chain and glittering emerald jewel rest on her perky breasts, but when I look up, Mason’s only looking into her eyes. “You take good care of my girl tonight, Mason.” Sue looks back at me and that roguish look in her eyes makes me smile.
“I plan on it,” Mason answers and releases her hand.
“Just one minute,” Sue holds up her pointer finger and grips my wrist, moving me an entire foot away from Mason and closer to the powder room as if he can’t hear us. I keep myself from rolling my eyes.
I don’t want her to judge me, or to hate me. I just want her to understand. Out of all the girls, I think she will. More than anything, I know I want to get out of here with a stranger. It makes me feel dirty and shameful, but right now it’s what I want.
“It’s nothing serious.” The words come out in a defensive tone.
“It is for me,” Sue says. My lungs stall at her words. She shifts her weight and looks over her shoulder towards our booth. I can’t see either Kat or Maddie although I know they’re still there. “You need this.” Sue stares into my eyes, the look so serious I’m caught off guard.
“The question is,” she lowers her voice and leans into me, “are we telling the others?” When she pulls away, gripping my elbows in her hands and raising her brow, I know everything’s going to be okay.
I hesitate, looking back at Mason and then bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t want to lie to them,” I answer honestly.
“Then you two go out the back. And do it fast before I go tell them and before Jasper can get his skinny, organic, vegan-eating ass inside.”
I snicker at Sue’s response, but the reality of what I’m doing is setting in. I lean forward as Sue lets go and I grip her hand before she can turn and leave me alone with my soon-to-be one-night stand.
“Tell me I’m not a bad person.” The words slip out before I can even think about what I’m saying. I try to keep the smile on my face, but it wavers.
“Stop that shit right now.” Sue’s face is completely serious as she points her finger at me.
I nod my head, willing the emotions to go back down to being buried deep inside of me as if they don’t deserve to surface in this moment.
“You are a beautiful, strong, kind woman,” Sue tells me and I look her in the eyes although I don’t share her conviction. “And there is not a goddamn thing wrong with getting laid.”
The bit of humor helps me feel a sense of relief, but it’s small. Her expression softens. “You just need a little something to kick start your happiness again.”
To happiness.
“I do.” I nod my head.
Sue’s not one to get emotional. Not in the least and true to her nature she skirts around the way my voice cracks as she takes a half step closer to me. “Then get over there and let Mr. Yes-please-fuck-me-with-my-ankles-pinned-behind-my-head- “
A laugh escapes me before she can even finish and I wipe under my eyes as I shake my head. “Can you even put your legs behind your head?”
“For the right man, I can do a lot of shit.” She looks back at Mason and then to me.
“Just have fun tonight,” she says making light of the situation, but it’s calming. I want to be like her. I want to believe it’s completely harmless.
I nod my head as she turns from me, leaving me alone with Mason.
Alone to do bad things and make bad decisions. But at least I’m doing something.
It’s then that I notice a few eyes watching. Including Margo, who’s taking covert glances. My anxiety keeps ramping up, daring me to go through with it and that’s when he wraps his hand around my hip and pulls me into him. Bringing my back to his front and whispering in my ear.
“You ready to go?” he asks me, his hot breath traveling down my sensitive skin and making my body feel alive.
I don’t close my eyes; I just stare straight ahead. I don’t care that they can see. The city can talk; I’ll deny it all.
“Will you hold me afterward?” I whisper my one request before I realize what I’ve said.
His body stills behind me and I close my eyes, hating that I’ve ruined this before it’s even started. It’s a one-night stand, nothing more. No emotions.
“Until the morning?” he asks me. My heart beats again, in rhythm with his.
I nod my head, my hair rubbing against his hard chest and his thumb brushing against the black fabric of my dress.
Just until morning.
Chapter 7
Mason
What’s wrong is tempting. What’s forbidden is best.
It’s the past that’s waiting and putting you to the test.
If she can forgive, it would all be made right.
But she’d have to know, to forgive, and that won’t happen tonight.
Will you hold me afterward?
I’m calm on the outside, as if there’s not a damn thing wrong with what I’m doing. I don’t know what’s come over me
The Benz’s alarm beeps as I unlock it and open Julia’s door for her. Her heels are muted on the wet asphalt as she rounds me and slips easily into the luxurious leather seat. Her soft blue eyes look up at me as she tucks her hair behind her ear and then settles the clutch in her lap as she murmurs, “Thank you.”
I merely smile and close her door, the keys jingling as I walk to the driver side, my heart beating wildly.
This is a fucking mistake. I don’t hold women afterward. I don’t fuck women who I should stay far away from.
But I’m also a selfish prick, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want her. And what I want, I get.
I clear my throat as I start the car, the purr of the engine and soft classical music filling the cabin.
As I look over my shoulder to back out of the parking space, Jules clears her throat, “Are we going to…” she starts to ask and then a beautiful blush colors her cheeks.
I can’t help the smirk on my face at her shyness or the way my cock jumps in my pants. I put the car into drive and peek at her before leaving the tight parking lot and heading down Second Avenue. “Where are we headed, sweetheart?” My fingers itch to rest against her bare thigh as her dress rides up slightly. I place my hand on the shifter instead, stopping at a red light and looking over to her.
She squirms in her seat and I fucking love it. It’s easy to forget with her. Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe that’s why I just can’t say no and walk away. If I can convince her, then it’ll all be alright. I’m her downfall and she’s my savior.
“My place?” I ask her to put her out of her misery. She’s quick to nod, glancing at me and then looks down to her hands in her lap.
I’m enjoying this way too much. I turn to look out of the driver’s side window and ignore that voice in the back of my head that tells me I’m a Grade A prick for doing this to her.
“Thank you,” she says softly, grabbing my attention once again as the light turns green and the traffic moves again.
“For heading out the back and away from all that…” she waves her hands in the air before falling back against the seat and concluding, “bullshit.”
I nod my head once, looking back to the windshield and twisting my hand around the leather steering wheel.
“No problem,” I say easily, but I can feel her need to talk, to tell me why and who and everything else that’s on her mind and I’m not interested in hearing it. I wait for it, staring straight ahead, but nothing comes. Just silence as we drive to the sounds of Tchaikovsky.
It’s only fifteen minutes to my place at this rate, but the time can’t pass fast enough. Every second of silence is a second I consider turning back.
“Do you always do this?” Jules asks and breaks up the quiet.
“What’s that?”
“This,” she says sleepily, her cheek resting against the seat as she looks at me.
“Hmm?” I still don’t understand her question.
“Pick up women-” she stops and rolls her eyes before she even finishes. I used to, without thinking twice. But that was before Avery. Before my father and all this hell I’ve been thrown into.
“So you do, do this often?” she asks me again and I have to hold back my smile at her brazen question.
“I’m not going to answer that, Jules.” My voice comes out a little harder than I wanted and she shrinks back some.
It’s tense for a moment and I flick on the turn signal as we turn down a deserted street. So, close. I can’t lose her now. “I don’t,” I tell her simply.
She peeks over at me, and I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“I don’t usually take a woman home.” And I sure as fuck don’t do sleepovers. I grind my teeth remembering how I said I would. How her innocent plea made me weak. “It’s been a long time for me.”
“Why your house then?” she asks with curiosity.
“Because I like to sleep in my own bed.”
Her brows pinch for a moment, and then she struggles to hold back a laugh. It catches me off guard but then I remember how much she drank. I’m still feeling a bit of the tequila myself. My tolerance is high as fuck, so if I’m feeling it, she must be wasted. The realization drains the blood from my face.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“Fine,” she says and then covers her mouth with her hand.
“Are you drunk?” I ask her. She doesn’t look like it in the least.
She purses her lips and shakes her head as she says, “Nope. Just right.” She stretches in the seat, covering another yawn as I pull up to my gates.
Imperfect (Sins and Secrets Series of Duets Book 1) Page 4