I thread our fingers together and squeeze her hand in mine. “I knew I liked Charlie. She’s bright, that one.”
Piper quietly laughs. “So she’s always telling me.”
She looks down at our entwined hands like she just realized we were touching. “That was the day we decided to go to Europe. We planned to go the next year after graduation. It was the perfect solution. I didn’t want to risk running into my daughter. Because I swear, Mason, her face is etched into my brain for all of eternity and I think I would recognize her anywhere. Also, I didn’t want to have a run-in with any of the boys who attacked me. And Charlie—well you know her reasons for leaving.”
I can feel her relax, tension leaving her body with every word she speaks. This is therapeutic for her. And with each part of her story that she reveals, I see pieces coming back together to make her a whole person.
I brush her hair aside, exposing her neck. “What about your tattoo, sweetheart?”
Her hand comes up to rub it like I’ve seen her do so many times before. “I got it on my eighteenth birthday. A budding rose, a reminder of what I hope would become of her; but a black rose for the death of the relationship we would never have.”
She becomes quiet. After talking and crying for almost an hour straight, the room becomes strangely silent. Strange but wonderful. And I realize for the first time, that she’s holding my hand instead of me holding hers. Her small fingers rub over my knuckles, sending erotic, and totally-inappropriate-for-the-situation, sensations straight to my groin.
“So that’s it. You know everything about me. Except maybe that I had a dog named Mutt when I was little. He ran away when I was seven.”
“Mutt, huh?”
She nods, still rubbing her fingers over mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, searching her eyes for answers. After all, she just tore open all her wounds and bared her soul to me.
Her eyes narrow as she ponders the question. “I think I am. Is that crazy?” Her burgeoning smile warms not only my heart, but other parts of my anatomy.
“No. It’s not crazy at all. Talking helps. Believe me. And I’m here anytime you want to talk about it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got some pretty big shoulders you can use for crying on whenever you need them.”
Her smile falls and my budding erection threatens to abate. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to see me as a woman, like you did last weekend, and not the girl on that bed?”
Suddenly, I have visions of Saturday night. Of her writhing under my tongue, pawing at my sheets as she watched me bring her to orgasm. I drop her hand and stand up at the side of the bed, pulling down my pants and boxer briefs in one fell swoop, my hardened dick springing proudly when it’s released from its confines. “I don’t think that will ever be a problem, sweetheart.”
Her eyes go wide at the sight of me. Not in fear. Not in panic. But in appreciation; passion. And it’s damn sexy.
Her hand twitches as if she wants to reach out and touch me. My dick jumps at the very thought of her hand gripping me. But then as quickly as my hopes were raised, they are dashed.
“I can’t,” she says.
I nod. Of course she isn’t ready for this. She needs time. I berate myself, reaching down to pull my pants up, but her words stop me dead.
“I just ran fifteen miles. I need a shower.” Her heated gaze skates over my chest, then lower.
Holy shit.
The way she said it. It wasn’t a blow-off or an excuse. It was an invitation.
“I could use one myself,” I say, stepping out of my shoes and pulling off my pants. “I haven’t showered since Monday. What day is it?”
She laughs. “Wednesday.”
I look to the bathroom and then I raise my eyebrows at her. Her teeth grasp the edge of her bottom lip, causing even more of my blood to run south. A slow smile tugs her lips upward. “I’ve never had any bad dreams about showers,” she says. “Just like I never had them about kissing.”
I smile and it feels as if my face could crack open. “And look how good you are at kissing.” I take two steps over to her and hold out my hand.
She looks at it with dark and lidded eyes, her lips twitching into a shy yet sensual grin.
My heart all but leaps from my chest.
I pull her into the bathroom and turn on the shower. It’s nice. It’s got several nozzles including one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling. As it warms, I slowly remove her running shorts and tank top, peeling them off her body to reveal inch after beautiful inch.
It’s bright in here. Daylight is shining through the window and strong fluorescents are overhead. I notice very faint white lines on both sides of her stomach. I fall to my knees and place my lips on them, tasting her salty flesh. I show her I love every part of her, even those parts she thinks are damaged.
I have damaged parts, too. Maybe together, if we add up all of our good parts, we can make one whole unblemished person.
She runs her hands through my hair as my mouth devours the intoxicating scent that clings to her skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see steam coming from the shower, so I stand and walk her backwards into it until her back hits the wall.
Water pours over her, wetting her hair and running down to stream off her breasts. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
My lips claim hers in a wet, demanding kiss that spawns provocative noises from her. We kiss long and hard, exploring each other with our tongues and mouths until we can no longer breathe, our lungs burning from the lack of air.
While my hands probe her breasts, hers grip the back of my hair, tilting my head back so her lips can assault my neck. She stops wandering when she finds my pulse, sucking the fleshy skin of my neck into her mouth. My dick throbs against her and I worry it will cause her to panic. Instead, she surprises me, reaching between us, gripping me with her small hand, running her fingers along the sensitive head, driving me absolutely fucking insane.
Everywhere she touches me, electrical currents pulse beneath my skin. Her hand slowly moves from root to tip and my body aches with the need for release.
My fingers trail down her water-slicked stomach, down through her soft curls to find the hot wet heat of her center before slipping inside her. Her breath catches somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
I don’t have to remind her to look at me. Our eyes meet with a force that sends shockwaves through our bodies, her hunger and passion matching my own. The base of my spine tingles as my body is battered by sensation after sensation. I bite down on my lip, tasting the blood that results from an endeavor to hold off my inevitable finish. This isn’t about me. This is about giving her a memory that can overshadow the nightmares. I pull back, my steely erection falling from her soft, wet hands as I try to even out my breathing.
“Do you have a condom?” she asks, her eyes raking my body with a heat so intense it practically melts me.
Shit. Those five words almost make me come on the spot. Hell yes, I do.
“Wait here,” I say, a desperate edge of command lining my voice. I step out of the shower, soaking the tiles of the bathroom and the carpet of the bedroom with the water rolling off me. I all but slip and fall on the bathroom floor in my haste to get back to her, catching myself on the counter in what I’m sure is a comedic, naked splaying of my enthusiasm.
Her laughter echoes off the walls of the stone shower, making my heart expand with the notion that she wants this.
Before I’m even back in the shower, I’ve ripped the condom from the wrapper and rolled it on my rock-hard penis. As soon as I step back in, she catapults herself into my arms and I lift her up, cupping my hands beneath the soft globes of her ass as she clasps her legs around my waist.
My hardness touches her between the legs, squished between our slickened bodies. She looks down to see how close we are to being joined. “Yes,” she says, water spilling over her shoulders, adding warmth to the heat surging between us.
She looks back up at my face, a crackle
of energy passing between us. Raw. Hot. Carnal. I’ve never seen her eyes make such urgent demands. And as she works her fingers through the back of my hair, she whispers, “Yes, Mason.”
Fuck. I never knew my own name could sound so sexy.
“Sweetheart,” I breathe into her, my lips closing in to savor her mouth once more, reminding her it’s only ever going to be me. “God, I love you, Piper. Only me. Always.”
As we kiss, her hands probe my shoulders, my neck, my back, sliding effortlessly over my wet skin, building me to a point of no return. I break the kiss and tilt her hips up as I enter her, the snug grip of her tight walls stroking me to the brink of ecstasy.
I can’t help but groan when I hit the end of her. The feeling of skin on naked skin, me fully seated inside her—I’ve never felt such deep satisfaction. Such unadulterated joy.
I watch her with every roll of my hips, gauging her response as I start a slow and steady rhythm in and out of her. I can feel the impending climax begin to tighten my balls and tense my gut. I push her hard against the wall, keeping one hand under her bottom while I move the other one between us.
Her eyes never leave mine. Not even when they glaze over as her passion crests and she convulses in pleasure around me. Ragged murmurs of gratification leave her lips as her pulsating body milks a vigorous orgasm from me.
I brace us against the wall, my legs barely able to keep me standing. Then I bathe in the potent feeling of warmth and contentment that is stronger than I can ever remember. Her head falls to my shoulder, our bodies still connected as I cherish the steady beat of her heart against mine.
Shivers course through her when the water turns tepid. Without breaking our seal, I carry her delicately over the puddled floor of the bathroom. I take her out to the bed, grabbing a towel along the way.
I gently dry her from head to toe as she watches me with clear, pure, vibrantly green eyes that are creased with a smile. I swear to God I can see my future in them.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m perfect.”
A wave of relief resonates through me along with her words. Her smile makes my spirit soar with shameless delight. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very fucking clean for a long, long time to come.”
She laughs, then her eyes narrow in amusement. “Did we even use soap?”
A grin full of hungry anticipation twitches my mouth. “I guess we’ll just have to take another one later.”
She crawls under the duvet and I wrap my arms around her from behind, warming her further.
“I lied to you, you know,” she says.
I feel a deep twist of my heart and a momentary twang of hopelessness in my gut. “Lied?”
“Yeah. I didn’t really win that bet.” Her transparent voice is thick with emotion and tantalizing with need.
I smile into her neck. “Oh?”
She nods against me, pushing her back even tighter into me. She takes a cleansing breath, a sure sign something wondrous is about to fall from her lips. “I didn’t win the bet. You did. I’m moving to New York.”
My heart pounds, threatening to penetrate the walls of my chest. Quickly, I climb over her, settling myself on her other side so we are face to face—inches from each other. “Is that a euphemism, sweetheart? Because if you are messing with me, I might just fucking explode.”
A brilliant glow spans her beautiful face. “No, I’m not messing with you. And yes, I’m moving to New York.”
I take her head, cupping it in my hands. “I need to hear you say it, Piper.”
A powerful rush of emotions flood through me, her tear-rimmed eyes mirroring mine when the words I’d only dreamed of spill from her lips. “I love you, Mason Lawrence.”
chapter twenty-nine
piper
Champagne is served to us even before the rest of the plane has been boarded. I protested the first-class tickets on principle, but Mason insisted, as these were the only available seats unless we wanted to wait another day. Plus he said I’ll have to get used to this sort of thing.
I’m not complaining. I mean, I’ve lived in some pretty questionable places and resorted to more than my share of flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants transportation over the years. Still, I’m not sure I could ever get used to this. To being treated like royalty.
Mason reaches over and plucks my untouched drink from my tray, downing the bubbly liquid before calling the attendant over. “She’ll have a Jack and Coke. Please do not open them, we’ll take care of that.”
“Right away, sir,” the English-speaking beauty says.
He winks at me and I melt. He could have told me I’m being ridiculous. He could have tried to convince me to quit being suspect of every drink not prepared before me. He could have even said he’d protect me if anything like that were to ever happen again. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say any of that. He gets me. And I love him for it.
“So where do you want to go when we land?” he asks.
I’ve been thinking about that very thing. “Skylar’s,” I tell him. “I’m going to have my sisters meet me at her townhouse. There are a few things I need to tell them.”
He picks up my hand, kissing the back of it; pride seeping from his lips and permeating my skin. “Want me to be there with you?”
I shake my head. “I need to do this alone, Mason. I owe them explanations about my behavior. And I suspect you won’t want to be anywhere around when my protective older sisters find out what happened to me. Tears will be shed. Cuss words will be yelled. Shit will get thrown around the room.”
“Fair enough.” He smiles pensively at my attempt at a joke. “But after that, Piper—where do you want to go after that?” He looks nervously at my hand still enveloped by his. “Will you come back to my place? Will you move in with me?”
My eyes fail to hide my surprise. He might as well have asked if I wanted to meet the Pope. My answer would be the same. I want to, but I’d be nervous as hell and afraid I’d fuck it up.
“I know it may be hard for you at first, when Hailey is around. And I don’t expect anything from you—she’s my responsibility. But you two are the most important people in my life. I want you both with me. Full-time if I have anything to say about it.” His deep mesmerizing voice is filled with promise.
My drinks get placed before me and I break the seal on the small liquor bottle, not bothering to mix it with my Coke before I throw my head back and let it burn its way down my throat.
“Just think about it, sweetheart.” He puts a hand on my thigh, warming my skin through my jeans as I look out the window, watching as we throttle down the long runway that begins our journey home.
Mason sleeps most of the flight. We didn’t get much shut-eye last night. But we did get clean. Several times over. I smile upon the clouds below just thinking about it.
He was so gentle; always making sure it was about me. He didn’t need to. After the first time, I knew it would be okay with him. Well, in the shower anyway. It’s almost as if I was being cleansed in more ways than one. Every time I stood under the warm water with him, letting it cascade over us, it washed away a little more of the filth I’d kept with me all these years.
My body is still reeling—still aching with the evidence of our love.
Love.
I’m in love with a man. I never thought it would happen. I never thought it could happen. He made me say it. He made me say it over and over until we both believed it.
I’m still scared though. Scared of so many things. Not the least of which is being around Hailey. He said it himself, on more than one occasion, that he wants more time with her. If I’m with him—living with him especially—despite what he says there will be certain expectations. I’m no stranger to raising a child. Maddox and I were joined at the hip for a few years. But a little girl?
Mason loves me. I know that. But I’m not naïve enough to think he would ever choose me over her. Nor should it be that way. He and Hailey are a package deal. I do understand that. And I
hope like hell my feelings for him will eventually spill over into feelings for her. But what if they don’t?
I look over at him. His head is turned to the side, resting comfortably on a plush pillow in his reclining seat. He looks peaceful. The five-day shadow surrounding his sexy, normally well-groomed beard has turned from scruff to fuzz, making him appear older than he is. His eyes twitch in a dream and I think I hear him mumble my name over the thrum of the engines. It hits me square in the heart and I know I never want him to dream of anyone else but me.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, startling me. I wasn’t aware he was even awake as I watched him. He runs a finger across my jawline. “You get more beautiful every time I look at you.”
I giggle. “It’s the love goggles. My hair is a mess and I’ve no makeup on. I left it all in New York.”
“You mean you left it home,” he says, optimism gleaming in his smile.
I look up at him, my throat tightening with emotion. I nod. “Yes. Home.”
“Have you decided exactly where that’s going to be yet?” His hopeful eyes beg for the answer I’m not ready to give.
“Mason.” His name becomes a sigh. “I need some time. I’m still trying to process everything. I want it to happen—us living together—I really do. But I need a minute to catch my breath, okay?”
The strong line of his jaw tightens, and his gaze falls to our entwined hands. “Okay. But can I see you tonight, after you talk to your sisters?”
“Aren’t you exhausted?”
His roguish half-smile hypnotizes me with a single upturn of his lips. “I’ll never be too tired to see you. It may be a difficult night for you and I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at his protectiveness. But inwardly, I love it. I love having someone who considers my every need before their own.
Black Roses (A Mitchell Sisters Novel) Page 25