Annnnd, there it was.
“How much do you work out?”
His lips spread into a grin that, under normal circumstances would have just pissed me off, but not now. Now I just wanted to kiss the hell out of that grin. “You like?”
“You know damn well I do.” He let out a deep chuckle that made my nipples harden and I sat up, sticking my chest out at first before I realized I was wearing a plain old Belle Bean t-shirt and nothing could be less sexy. “Are you fishing for compliments my dear husband? Feeling insecure?”
Instead of responding, his deft fingers went to the button on his jeans before tugging on the zipper and shucking his jeans to the floor. The sight of Mason standing there in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, well that was a special kind of heaven. Indeed.
Now it was my turn. If we were gonna do this, and we were, then I had on too many clothes. I sat up and tugged off my shirt, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. The way Mason looked at the swell of my breasts, the way my nipples went hard behind my sheer green bra, made me feel desirable. Like the sexiest woman in the whole world. The bra came off next, and the way his eyes darkened made my breasts feel heavy. Needy.
“Fuck, Cupcake.”
“That’s the general idea.” I leaned back and kicked off my sneakers so I was left wearing just my khaki skirt and matching green thongs. “A little help?”
He knelt on the bed and yanked me closer to him in that hot, forceful way you always hoped a guy would handle you. It was so hot that you didn’t give a damn that a small part of you said ‘hey watch it, buster’. But the part was so small it was easy to ignore. His knuckles brushed the sensitive skin just below my navel as he popped the tab on the button and pulled down the zipper, dragging the skirt and the panties in one fell swoop. “You always have the sexiest panties,” he told me, balling them up under his nose and taking in a huge breath.
“I have a thing for them.”
“So do I now, Cupcake.” He gave me an assessing look that held just a hint of affection and I closed my eyes against that thought. It had no place here with us, in this moment. “You can back out, you know?”
I opened my eyes and my gaze was pulled to the way his cock strained in his underwear. “Not backing out, just calibrating my sanity levels.”
Mason’s deep chuckle sounded, and it warmed up my whole body. “Sanity’s overrated.”
He was right about that, but it wasn’t just my sanity, it was the man. Everything about him just did it for me, and I knew that I was powerless to stop this thing that was happening between us. Not the marriage, just the heat, the chemistry, this impossible desire. It couldn’t be helped. “You know Mason, I think we finally agree on something.”
“Oh, come on, Cupcake, we also agree that things between the sheets are explosive. And we agree that I’m about to make you scream my name.” He was so cocky I wanted to prove him wrong, but what kind of idiot would steal an orgasm from herself?
Not this idiot. I let out a low moan when two of Mason’s thick fingers slipped between my folds in a slow, back and forth motion that set my blood to boiling. “Yes.”
“Feeling talkative?”
I felt everything, but foremost in my mind was anticipation. “I feel like you’re torturing me.”
“I am,” he said smugly and dipped one finger inside me. “Fuck, you’re wet for me already. Hot,” he groaned as he slid his finger in and out, slowly, and dragging his thick finger just to the point of pleasure. “So fucking hot and wet.” He added another finger and I tossed my head back and arched my back, crying out and letting the feel of his thick fingers plunging deep inside me take a hold of me. “Yeah, let go Cupcake.”
And I did, back arched with overheated skin I reached for Mason’s wrist and rolled my hips against his hand, taking as much of him as I could get, and then, sweet hamster on a cracker, his thumb massaged my clit like she was a high paying customer and I let go. All the way. “Mason, yes!”
“Ah, I do love it when you scream my name.” His voice held a laugh that tugged at the corners of my mouth. “And that’s just the first time.”
“That was more of a moan, not a scream.” Yeah, I was splitting hairs, but I had orgasm brain, not no brain.
“And here I was just feeling bad that I didn’t get a taste of my cupcake.” God the way he said dirty things, in that low voice that sounded like he had a drink of whiskey, gravel and honey just before he spoke. “Must be my lucky day.”
“Must be,” I told him, barely dragging myself to a seated position so I could grab his waistband. “Since it’s my turn for a taste and I don’t plan to waste it.” I had his boxer briefs down around his ankles and I slid flat on the bed, taking him as deep as I could.
“Oh fuck! Trish!” He grabbed a handful of my hair, tight, but I didn’t mind not when my muscles clenched between my thighs. And when Mason didn’t thrust as I expected and yeah, kind of wanted, I rewarded him, taking him deeper and deeper still. “Fuck.” The word came out on a low growl as he stepped away, chest heaving and eyes wild. “No more. I need to be inside you. Now, Trish.”
His voice was dark and seductive. “I’m right here, Mason.” With impressive speed, Mason flipped me around and slid deep in one, smooth move. “Yes!”
“Not my name, but it’s a nice start.” He thrust deep. Hard and deep. Oh so deep.
So deep I started making a strange chirping noise I couldn’t control. “Mason, yes!”
“That’s right, Cupcake but I think we can do better.”
And we did do better. So. Much. Better.
Three, no four times.
By the time the sun rose we’d gone at it too many times to count, being creative when we had to be, because we just couldn’t get enough of each other. Well I couldn’t get enough of him and men, they were easy. Sex all night was pretty hard to turn down for most men and sexually speaking, Mason was nothing like most men.
He was insatiable and he was all mine.
At least until we went and got that quickie divorce.
Mason
“Oh my god, will you please stop that!” Mags got up from the tattoo magazine she was reading and stood right in front of me. Glaring.
“Stop what, Mags?” She’d been irritable all day, and it was starting to get on my nerves.
“That!” She gestured to me, my face. Everything. “You’ve been whistling since you got here, and not like, a song stuck in your head or anything. Just whistling. Happy stupid whistling and I want you to stop it.”
I frowned at her. “I don’t whistle. Ever.”
“Correction, you didn’t used to whistle, but apparently now you do. Annoyingly so, I might add.”
I wanted to deny it again, but I had a feeling that I had really been whistling, and it was all Trish’s fault. The maddening woman came up with a new way to drive me out of mind every damn day, and I couldn’t find it in myself to complain. Not that I didn’t have a few dozen ways to drive her wild too, because I did, and I used one of them this morning to get what I wanted.
Trish was simple. She wanted sex, and lots of it, until we were clear to file for divorce. What I wanted, well that was still up in the air. Mostly. In the moment what I wanted was for Trish to see that I wasn’t such a bad bet in a relationship. For her to look at me and wonder if maybe, just maybe, we could have a chance at…something.
I was hooked on her, on pleasing her and hearing the sounds she made while I did it. And Trish was hooked on me, and I felt zero guilt about what I’d done this morning, waking her up with my tongue inside her while she was writhing, barely awake, her low husky voice was moaning my name. She was so hooked that it took nothing but back to back orgasms to get what I wanted, for now.
“Give us a real chance, no pretending we’re a happy couple.” She’d just come down from orgasm number one when I sprang it on her.
“A real chance? What the hell does that mean?” She looked down at me, big blue eyes hazy from sleep and an early morning orgasm.
>
“It means,” I told her, pausing to lick through her damp folds, “that until we file for divorce we are a couple. We go out on dates, I get to kiss you in public,” I licked her again to keep quiet that objection forming on her lush lips, “and we live and sleep together, because that’s what couples do. Not for anyone else.”
I knew she wasn’t totally sold, so I shut up and put my mouth where she still throbbed and leaked for it. I licked and sucked, laved her vibrating clit, hell I French kissed it until she trembled beneath my hands, and then when she had such a tight grip on my hair that I thought she might take a few strands with her, my tongue curled around her clit and sucked hard. “Oh, Mason! Yes! Yes! Oh, yessss!”
That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Almost completely. “Was that a ‘yes’ or just an ‘oh yes’?”
The look she gave me was sharp enough to cut, but I flicked the tip of my tongue against her already tight nub and she nodded, but I kept it up until she was panting. Gasping. Grunting her pleasure.
“Okay. Fine. Yes, we can date and all that. We’ll be a real happy couple. No pretending.” To reward her, I left her with one final orgasm before she climbed out of bed and showered because she had to be in the shop by four.
“Ugh, seriously! Just go get a damn room.” Mags grunted and shook her head, looking utterly disgusted with me.
“It’s just me, Mags. No room necessary.” She was being ridiculous.
“Like that matters when your dirty and disgusting thoughts are written all over you face, never mind your stupid smiley, sex fatigued smirk.”
I wanted to laugh at her annoyance, but there were too many needles around. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
She stuck out her tongue with a laugh and another grossed out shiver. “Who can concentrate with those loud, dirty thoughts? You’ve been going at it for nearly a week, shouldn’t the glow have worn off by now?”
That’s what I thought too, but the thing is, sex only got better and hotter between us. Every fucking time. And it wasn’t just the sex, it was all the fun we had during non-sexy times too, Slowly, I was becoming addicted to her.
“Should it?” She found new and creative ways to make me come harder, which only fueled me to find another spot that pulled those dirty, erotic sounds from her.
“Again!” Magenta tossed a pen at me, completely disgusted. But then her expression changed, softened and she did that little all-knowing head cock thing that drove me crazy. “I never thought I’d see the day big brother.”
“What day?” I shouldn’t have barked at her, but I didn’t know what in the hell she was talking about.
“Oh nothing,” she said a bit too innocently and walked away from me as a group of guys came in, looking to get their team numbers tattooed on their biceps. It was a quick job that look about an hour if you excluded the time it took to wake up the two dudes who passed out, and with my help we had them in and out with after-care pamphlets and ointment. “Thanks for your help, bro. I think we deserve some lunch. Sandwiches from Belle Bean, or greasy fried food from the diner?” Her green eyes sparkled with mischief, arms crossed like she knew what I would say.
So I did what any good brother would, I surprised her. “You pick.”
“Coward.”
“Busybody,” I shot back with a laugh.
Mags just shrugged. “This town is rubbing off on me. A lot. Yesterday an old lady came up to me with her hand out, telling me it was fifty bucks if I wanted to get in on the pot.”
“What pot?” The ladies in this town were notorious for starting pots for any and everything.
“On whether or not Trish’s bad mood was from PMS or pregnancy. Judging by that goofy grin on your face, I chose right.”
Pregnant? Trish? I laughed. “You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell Trish was pregnant. I’d know. Hell, she’d know.
Mags shook her head like I was crazy. “Well that’s what usually happens when a guy has that face,” she said, waving at my face with disgust. “Lots and lots of boinking, and not all of it protected, if you know what I mean big brother.”
Shit, I did know what she was saying, and suddenly I remembered every single time I slid into her damp heat. Her fiery hotness as it clenched around my dick. Bare. Unprotected. “Uh-oh, judging by your face you fall into both categories.”
“No,” I insisted a little more forcefully than necessary. “Just thinking about, like you said, sexy times.”
“Liar. And a bad liar at that.”
“Nothing to lie about Magenta, not that it’s any of your business anyway. Unless of course you want the details?”
Like she did when we were kids and I did my best to gross her out, Mags covered her ears and spoke over me. “Hey, if I’m gonna be an aunt, that’s totally my business!”
The front door smacked shut and the bells sounded. “You hear that, Maddie? Trish is knocked up already. You don’t waste any time do you, Mason?” Vivi and Maddie appeared inside the shop wearing matching grins.
I groaned and disappeared into my office knowing Mags would take care of them if they needed it. If not, well I was glad to be locked away. Away from the high pitched cackling of women talking smack. About me. “Thank god for paperwork.”
I was alone in my office with a week’s worth of inventory and other administrative tasks I put off for too long. And, unfortunately, I was left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of Trish, possibly pregnant.
With my baby.
How in the hell could I have let this happen? I can’t resist Trish, that’s how.
Now I just had to decide how in the hell I felt about possibly being a father.
Trish
“I’m too tired to cook, don’t judge me.”
Mason was home early. Home, because that’s what my house was now. For both of us. He was supposed to be at the shop late tonight, which was why I’d ordered a medium veggie pizza along with a side of ginger noodles and had a six pack of craft beer chilling in the fridge. I was enjoying the food and the beer. In nothing but my robe.
In my defense, the man fought dirty, and even days after agreeing to actually be a happy couple, I needed some time to accept my fate. To decompress. To let myself feel happy to have a man in my life, or maybe it was happiness over getting laid regularly. I wasn’t sure, hence the pizza and ginger noodles.
“Hey, a half naked woman eating two of my favorite foods with a beer in her hand? I’m not judging, just trying to figure out how in the hell I got so lucky.” He walked right past me wearing that flirty smile into my, no our bedroom and straight into the shower. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to focus on Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant on the television and not the image of Mason, naked with water sluicing down his big hard body. I had to focus on the movie, on the beautiful couple falling in love and not on the way my nipples beaded against my silky robe, or the way I throbbed and heated between my thighs.
Dammit, I needed a break. Well my body needed the break, but it was that horny bitch who didn’t care about things like sore muscles and aching parts. She wanted Mason and she was about a half a second away from joining him in the shower. “Not going back there.” I had to say the words out loud just to make sure all of me was listening. But finally, at least three days later though it was probably about ten minutes, Mason emerged from the bedroom freshly showered, smelling clean and masculine. And shirtless. Blessedly shirtless with his tattoos and muscles on display in all their glory. “Because of course he is.”
“You say something, Cupcake?”
“Nope. Aren’t you cold?”
I heard the laugh as he walked into the kitchen and returned with two more bottles, dropping down right beside me on the sofa. “Nah, I’m fine. Is this too much skin on display for you?”
“Damn straight,” I told him honestly, shoving at his side though my hand betrayed me and my fingers lingered, caressing those side muscles that short circuited my brain. “Guess I’ll have to put on Thor or Captain America to distract me
from all this.”
He groaned and I grinned. “Anything but that, please.”
I grinned even wider as I tapped the remote and woke up the television, pressing play which brought Julia and Hugh’s love story back to life. “Perfect, then.”
“Damn, I spoke too soon.”
I held my breath waiting for him to complain about the movie choice or the genre in general but Mason, as I was learning, rolled with it. He sat beside me all hot and hard and shirtless, letting his arm brush my leg as he reached for a slice of pizza. And then he just sat there, eating his pizza and drinking his beer with one hand, lightly caressing my thigh with the other. For the whole movie, heat spread throughout the rest of my body making it hard to concentrate on the happy couple, awkwardly falling in love. Then his thumb hit mid-thigh, rubbing small circles in that spot where the thigh dipped in just a little, the sensation causing fireworks to go off in my hot spots. “I think I’m gonna head to bed,” I said, standing abruptly.
“Come here,” he said softly, sweetly, grabbing my arm and pulling me down against him. “Stay.”
“Mason,” I whispered, biting back the shivers caused by his fingertips grazing the back of my thighs. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“That’s okay. I’ve missed you today, Cupcake.” He pressed his lips to that sweet spot on my forehead. You know the spot, the one that made a girl feel cared for and cherished. Infinitely desired. “I’m happy to be your pillow.”
Mason patted his lap and I frowned. “I’m not gonna blow-,”
He cut me off with two fingers pressed against my lips. “Just lay down, Cupcake before your dirty thoughts get me all hot and bothered.” He winked before turning his attention back to the movie and stared at him for a long minute before shrugging and getting comfortable on his lap. As the most romantic moment of the movie played, I closed my eyes and slowly relaxed as Mason’s strong capable fingers massaged my scalp. Sifted through my hair, wavy from air drying.
Accidentally On Purpose: An Accidental Marriage Boxset Page 44