He blew out a breath, his body suddenly craving that unrestricted, unconditional way she had of caring without demanding something in return. The way he lost himself in her warmth. How he felt whole and right in her arms. Needed…wanted.
With a quick glance at the time on his phone, he cursed. She would’ve already left the shop for the day. He twisted around and headed back to the resort. To his Jeep. To Jill.
Work had kept Jill busy most of the week. There had been plenty to do with the shop being so new, the constant influx of guests, plus internet orders, and she welcomed the job and a reason to keep her mind occupied.
She missed Mason. Ached for him and his family. For Keiffer. Her mind couldn’t get around the fact the poor guy had been the one to find his friend. She couldn’t fathom seeing Greg like that…
With a shake of her head, she banished the thought, brushed a stray tear from her cheek, and continued to stir the soup she had going on the stove. She’d never lost anyone to suicide, but had learned through articles and news this past week that the rate had risen alarmingly since the war. Many veterans suffering from Post Traumatic Stress took their own lives. Too many.
She sniffed back the emotions clogging her throat and concentrated on something positive. The outpouring of support from the community and strangers to the family and to Keiffer had warmed her heart. The way everyone had rallied around the Guard this week, the flags that still graced porches and poles and businesses. She even hung one from her porch, and the burned out shell of Confection Connection in town, with Ryder’s help. She’d received her insurance check this week, and his men had started to gut the shop.
A knock sounded at the door. Jill turned off the burner, set the ladle down and walked to her locked door. Sometimes, she had nightmares about Donny showing up since his whereabouts were still unknown. But as she approached, she recognized the set of shoulders and angle of the head she could just make out through the small window. Her heart beats increased for a different reason. A good reason.
Flicking the lock, she opened the door and sucked in a breath. Mason leaned against the doorjamb, shoulders rounded, hands shoved in his coat pocket, face pale, gaze hollow, mouth grim, hurting.
“Mason.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting and relocking the door. “Are you okay?”
He removed his coat and set it on a hook near hers by the door, then turned to her, his mouth twitching up. “Better now,” he said, crushing her close and dragging in a deep breath. “God, you smell good.”
She held him tight and didn’t let go until he moved. He slid his hands to her hips and backed her up into the room on her left. Her bedroom.
“I just need…” His voice trailed off as if he had no idea how to finish the sentence.
His gaze was hot and needy at the same time it was almost blank, numb with so much emotion he’d been holding in all week.
Her heart cracked and ached for the man who made her feel too much, too. It also swelled at the realization he had family and friends, guardsmen, who always had his back. Yet, he’d come to her, sought her out.
He was strong. Capable. Independent. Yet, he’d come to her, sought her out.
She reached up and gently placed a finger on his lips. “It’s okay,” she said, sliding her palms up his chest and shoulders, finding his whole body tight and rigid with tension. “I’ve got you.”
Then she curled her hands around his jaw and drew his mouth to hers. He groaned and immediately opened up, devouring, demanding, sucking nearly all her energy with just that first kiss. When he broke for air, she was clinging to him, panting, shaking with so much need she had no idea what to do first.
He did.
Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, he pulled it up over her head and tossed the top on the floor. Her bra followed. His hot, needy gaze slid over her bared chest before his hands cupped each breast and he bent his head to take one pebbled peak into his mouth and tug.
She moaned and grabbed his head. His body was trembling with the effort to hold it all in as he made his way to her other breast and took his time, driving her mad with need.
“Mason.” She gasped when he released her to drop to his knees and strip the rest of her clothes from her body.
“Gorgeous,” he said, his mouth zeroing right in on her center.
Another gasp ripped up her throat while the rest of her strength dissipated. Knees buckling, she grasped at his shoulders, but he was already a step ahead of her, scooping her up and setting her on the bed. She bounced, and his gaze darkened as he watched her breasts move.
“So gorgeous.”
Jill sat up, needing to see him, to have him just as naked and available. She pushed his shirt up his flat abs as far as she could reach. “Take it off. All of it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
In several, quick, economical movements, Mason was naked with a foil packet in his hand, walking toward the bed. Her heart rocked at the sight of his magnificent, lean body, and she anticipated him donning the condom and sinking right into her.
So, when he tossed the packet on the mattress before dropping to his knees in front of her, she blinked.
A slight smile touched his lips. “Not yet,” he said then set a hand on both of her knees and spread them before leaning in to kiss her inner thigh. He glanced back up, gaze so dark, nearly desperate. “I need you, Jill. I need all of you. Give me all of you.”
Then his mouth and hands took turns driving her mad, tempting, teasing, never quite touching her where she ached. Where he made her ache.
“Mason.” Her voice was hoarse, and she felt him grunt a second before he finally slipped a finger over her center.
Her hips rose off the bed, and he immediately clamped his mouth on her, sucking her inside while his finger slid in at a different angle, harder, deeper…just right.
He moaned at the taste of her and increased his movements, and within seconds, she came, panting his name, then…oh God, she came again because he hadn’t stopped.
Boneless, heart still pounding hard in her chest, she sucked in air, breathing ragged as she watched him roll the condom down his long length.
Anticipating, needing him, she held his smoldering gaze and spread her legs farther in open invitation. He planted his arms on either side of her head and kissed her long and deep, with just enough tongue to reignite the heat still lingering in her belly.
Running her hands up his hot, slick back, she marveled at the play of muscles underneath, and as soon as he lifted his mouth from hers and began kissing her neck, she let out the moan that had been building.
“I need you, Mason,” she said, holding his gaze as he drew back to stare down at her. “I need you,” she repeated, this time running a hand down his strong jaw. “So much.”
He dropped his forehead to her chest, and she could feel him suck in a breath. “You’re so sweet.”
His hands were on her then, hot, possessive, making her shake with the need she’d just confessed and the burning desire to have him push inside. He kissed his way back up to her neck, then he was leaning over her, staring deep into her eyes.
“I need you, too, Jill,” he said, gaze touching her face in a caress.
An unexpected, all consuming warmth spread through her body at the things she saw in his eyes, things he revealed in his deep gaze. Her fingers curved around his chin. “Mason,” she whispered, throat clogged with emotion.
He smiled down at her, the sexiest, purest smile, as if she’d just made his world. Then he pushed into her body, and she rode out a wave of some unknown emotion, the same she saw mirrored in his raw, open gaze.
Words weren’t required after that, his gaze told her what her heart longed to hear. He lowered his mouth and kissed her so sweet and hot, she could barely breath. She clung to him, letting her body answer his, arching up, thrusting, lost in sensations too incredible to name.
But she did call out his name as he thrust deep and pulled long, upping the pace with each drive.
His breath was hot by her ear. “I need you, Jill. Need me back.”
“I do,” she whispered, fingers digging into his back as she met his thrusts, her body coming apart, tightening, pulsing around him while her heart opened, revealing what she’d known for a while.
She loved Mason Wyne with her whole body, heart and soul.
He kissed her with a fierce hunger and passion she eagerly met, watching, holding his hot gaze as he drew back and thrust deep, finding his own release.
Moments later, slumped on her, breathing ragged, heart pounding in his chest, he had his fingers tangled in her hair, face pressed against her neck, while he was still buried deep in her body. She had no idea how long they stayed that way, only knew she didn’t want him to leave. God, she never wanted him to leave, and really, really wanted him to want to never leave.
Blinking back tears, she snuggled closer, enjoying every possible second.
He kissed her neck, then jaw. “You okay?”
She swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”
He stared at her a beat, then lowered his mouth to hers, gently kissing the side, working his way across, slow, and sweet. “Me, too,” he said, rolling off her, then hauling her close, tucking her into his side with a satisfied sigh. “Me, too.”
Two weeks after Jill had rocked his world and knocked him the hell off his axis, Mason was walking through the lobby of the resort, heading to Timbers to meet up with Ethan and Ben, when a familiar female voice greeted him.
“Hello, Mason.”
His body tensed, and although he wanted to keep walking, he slowed his steps and turned toward the woman who once held, then ripped out, his heart.
Taking in Renee’s strawberry blonde waves, crystal blue eyes, perfect, full lips and hour-glass figure, he felt…nothing.
He waited for the deep grief and pain of betrayal to hit him, but all he felt was disdain, and a little irritated that he was being delayed from enjoying a beer with his brothers.
“Hello, Renee. Is something wrong?” He had to assume she was there as a guest.
“No, not really,” she said, brushing a curl from her eyes as she stood there in her designer jeans, sweater, boots and coat. “I, well, I just wanted to say I’ve seen you around with that chocolate maker.”
His jaw clenched at the lack of respect he heard in her tone. “Jill. Her name is Jill.” He had no idea why he even bothered to waste time with the woman and turned to leave when she grabbed his arm.
“Wait, I just wanted to say, well to help, to suggest you don’t work such long hours and try to do everything, especially now that you’ve got this successful place to help run.” She released him to wave her hand around.
He just stared at her.
“Between being a soldier and taking off on deployments and drills, and activations, and devoting the rest of your hours to this business, you’d better be careful, Mason. You don’t want Jill to get tired of being alone in your relationship. To feel neglected. Abandoned. It’s not pleasant. Believe me,” she said, and with a flip of her head, she turned and strutted in the other direction, her high heeled boots clicking across the tiled lobby floor.
Muttering a curse, he continued toward Timbers, his stride not as fast, body not as relaxed, and he dropped another curse for allowing the woman to get under his skin. What he had with Jill was none of the scheming, cheater’s business.
The chocolate maker was compassionate, caring, giving. She’d never cheat, or scheme or leave him. And by the time he entered the restaurant bar and dropped into his usual chair across from his two brothers, he almost felt better. Was almost convinced to ignore the woman’s advice.
Almost.
But what if she’s right, that ever-present voice of doubt spoke up in his head.
“Well, you look like you just bit into a lemon disguised as a watermelon,” Ben greeted.
He blinked at his brother, only half-hearing his greeting.
“You know, sour when expecting sweet,” the guy tried to explain.
“What’s up?” Ethan asked, pushing a mug of beer at him.
Sipping the brew, he contemplated keeping the run in to himself, then shrugged. What the hell. “Renee flagged me down in the lobby.”
“What did she say? Wait. No. I don’t care, and neither should you,” Ben muttered, voice lethal, gaze deadly and fastened, watching him closely.
“Yeah, whatever she said, forget it,” Ethan agreed. “She’s in the past. Jill is the here and now, and so completely right for you.” His oldest brother raised his mug in a toast. “To Jill.”
Ben lifted his. “Yes, to Jill.”
Mason grinned and held his mug high. “To Jill.”
She was what mattered. They were right. It was her smile, her warm gaze, her lips he thought of at night, and warm body he held if she was near. She held his heart. Controlled his pulse, his mood, his body with just a simple look, smile…sigh.
Jill Bailey was his world. He drank his beer, and happily recalled how incredible she felt when he was buried deep inside her warmth, lost in the heat and need in her fathomless eyes, thrilled to know he could give her as much pleasure as she gave to him. She had a gorgeous body, a beautiful soul, and a giving heart.
He was the luckiest damn bastard on the planet. It was no wonder he was in love with her.
Mason stilled, mug raised at half-mast as his thoughts cleared and realization sunk in. He not only loved Jill, he was in love with her, something he’d never felt before. With anyone. Hell, he’d never opened up and shared himself like he shared with Jill.
It terrified and thrilled at the same time.
He set his mug down, then blinked when Ethan said his name. “What?”
“Yeah, he was out there,” Ben said with a grin. “Probably rehashing a hot night with his woman. At least, I hope to God that was what you were doing and not giving any credence to that blonde bitch.”
He smiled and raised his mug. “Former.”
“Good,” one brother said and the other nodded.
Ethan leaned closer. “So then, I’m guessing you didn’t hear what Ben said about the latest deployment scuttlebutt?”
Mason’s heart sank. Deployment? He glanced at Ben who nodded. Ah hell.
“Looks to be about fifteen months out. We’re on the list to fill the Fifty-first’s roster,” his brother confided. “Nothing definite yet, but you know how it goes.”
He nodded, heart squeezing tight. Not from worry about going overseas. He was terrified about the home front. About Jill.
You’d better be careful, Mason. You don’t want Jill to get tired of being alone in your relationship. To feel neglected. Abandoned.
Renee’s words echoed in his head like a bull horn. His gut told him Jill would never feel that way if he was deployed, and yet, he couldn’t shake his long cultivated mistrust that she would. And leave if she knew. Cut and run.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jill hung up the phone and stared at chocolate lollipops lining the table ready for green-shamrock piping. It was a Friday evening in March, the CC Factory was closed for the day, and outside it was cold, clear, and calm, while inside...not so much. Her hand shook as she shoved the phone deep in her pocket. The piping was going to have to wait a few minutes. Possibly a good thirty. Which was okay. She hadn’t mixed the piping.
We want to market your chocolate…
The words the CEO of the New York conglomerate she’d pitched her chocolate to during that snow storm back in January resounded in her head. They liked it. Wanted to get behind it. Too bad her initial euphoria wore off the second he motioned relocation.
Across the country.
She leaned back against the counter in the quiet kitchen and talked her stomach into settling down. There was enough upheaval in her life without having to add her stomach to the mix. Her gaze traveled around the large, open workspace with up-to-date equipment, ergonomically placed for maximum efficiency. She loved that she’d been able to sit down with Ryder and Brandi on Skype and h
ad a say in the design of the factory.
That would not be the case with the new one. The big one. The company wanted to create a huge chocolate factory for her to oversee…in Nevada. Something about tax laws and incentives.
Her mind was stuck on what she’d be leaving, not creating. She could create right here, had been creating right here for weeks now in her new, cute, mini factory.
But her chocolate would be available to more people with the big one. Reach more people when placed in grocery stores throughout the country. Her heart kicked against her ribs.
She’d just hit the big time.
“Willing it to get done doesn’t work,” Mason said. “I’ve tried it.”
She turned to find him smiling at her from the kitchen doorway. He leaned against the jam, arms folded across his chest, head cocked, hair flopped on his forehead, and a sexy-as-hell, three-day growth of beard on his face.
Despite the cool temperatures outside, he had on gray sweats, slate gray tank top with a white graphic on the front, and a pair of well-worn sneakers on his feet. She couldn’t tell if he’d just come from working out, or was going to work out. Either way, he was certainly giving her pulse a work out.
Every ounce of her being woke up and smiled at the sight of him. The man garnered that response from her whenever he walked into a room. And she knew…she knew she couldn’t leave him. He meant more to her than a big factory. More to her than air.
More to her than creating chocolate.
Heart thudding in her chest, she walked over, pressed him against the wall and kissed him, running her hands up his warm, bare, muscled arms, then down the ridges in his chest. With a grunt, he cupped her face and took over the kiss, angling her head, slipping his tongue inside to deliver the most thorough, devastating, heated kiss he’d given to date. She got the sense he needed that kiss as much as she had. That he wrestled with a decision or issue, too. By the time he pulled back for air, she’d already lost the strength to stand and had to cling to his ripped body for support.
Wyne and Chocolate (Citizen Soldier Series Book 2) Page 18