by Laura Day
He pulled back then, his eyes wary. “Like what?”
“Do we have to talk?” God, why had she said that?
“Sounds like maybe we should.”
She sighed and pushed herself away from him, even though it made the ache in her belly a thousand times worse. “I don’t know what to say, Mason. I don’t know what you want from me, from life, from this situation. I’m totally in the dark. And it’s been a handful of days, so it’s not like that’s completely shocking, but at the same time—it’s been a really bad handful of days. If this is how the rest of my life would be with you—”
“Rest of your life—?”
She stared at him. “Is it really so shocking that I think in terms of the rest of my life? I’m a financial consultant, for God’s sake. I have a mortgage and a dog and a 401k.”
“Yeah, and I’m a filthy biker, right?”
“I didn’t say that, Mase, didn’t even think it.”
“Not at all?” His tone bit sharp and harsh.
“No. Not even a little bit.”
“So what do you want in your life, then? A marriage, a house, white picket fence, 2.4 kids, or whatever the hell it is?”
Caroline knew she needed to sit, or she was going to throw up, right here on the floor. “That’s what I would have said last week, definitely.”
“And now?”
“Why are you pushing me so hard to say that I don’t want you?”
“Because you shouldn't want me! And I don’t blame you. I couldn’t protect Anna, I couldn’t protect you—” His hands clenched into fists fast and hard, his pupils tightening into tiny dots, his breathing fast and rushed.
Everything in her heart and her brain told her to run, that this man was dangerous, that she needed to get away.
Yet she pushed all of that aside and stepped carefully into him. He looked down at her, his jaw working as his teeth ground together—God, what a terrible sound—but he wasn’t really seeing her. She didn’t know what was in his head. A scene from one of his tours, his half-sister’s grave, the bastard who’d put her in the ground… but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him. Not when he needed someone—anyone—this badly.
She brought her hands up to touch his jaw on each side. He pushed them away with a rapid ease that made her belly flip again, but she brought them back and tried her best not to flinch. He pushed her away again, and she touched him a third time. “Don't,” he said.
“And what are you going to do?” she replied. “If I’m making it worse, I’ll go, but if you’re just scared, if you’re scared you’ll hurt me—I’m a big girl. I can keep myself safe.”
He blinked twice, too fast. “You’re doing a bang-up job so far.”
“True. But I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be.”
“Maybe. But I’m not.”
He fell into her then, the way he had that first night, his hands twisting and teasing and taunting her with movements so fast that she could barely keep up with them. “I need to fuck,” he growled into her ear as he dragged his hips over hers. “I need to fuck or I need to fight and I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline. Please, can I fuck you? I’m sorry for what happened, I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe; can I make it up to you?”
“For the love of God, tell me you have a condom, because I didn’t grab them in my rush to leave.” She laughed, short and brutal. “I didn’t think I’d have any use for them.”
He rested his forehead on her sternum for a moment, then leaned down and nipped her nipple. He sat back on his heels, looking around. “This place is skeezy, but not too skeezy. Even odds…” He stood up, then pointed one very stern finger at her. “Don’t move an inch.”
“Not even to take my jeans off?”
“No. Because if I’m wrong, I don’t want to be tempted.”
“Yes, Master.” She winked at him, but he didn’t laugh; his breathing was harsh and rapid.
“Not ‘Master,’” he said. “But sir… I wouldn’t mind sir. If you wanted to play that game.”
“Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.”
“Jesus fuck,” he said, reaching down and rearranging his cock in his jeans. “If there aren’t condoms in a machine in the office, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with this thing.”
And then he was gone, and she waited on the bed, wondering what in hell she was doing to herself. The man had gone into a full on panic attack at the barest conversation about what might come next in a relationship. There was no way that this relationship was going to work long term. But the way he touched her, the way he made her body come alive—maybe they could work something out. She knew she wanted to try. For now, that would have to be enough.
He came back after a few minutes, and she’d never been so happy to see a little foil square in a guy’s hand. “I am the happiest man alive.”
“Not yet,” she said, reaching for his hand and pulling her down onto the bed next to her. “But you will be.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Something in his eyes shifted as he reached for her. He’d always been so eager as he touched her, a force of nature that was irresistible. This time, his hands were soft, gentle, tracing her body instead of teasing it.
He pulled her to him as he laid back, easing her into his lap. Her hair was up in a ponytail, messy from her nap. He pulled her shoulders down a bit, then reached up and pulled out the hair tie, letting her locks fall loosely around her shoulders.
“You’re incredible, Caroline Lewis.” He smiled. “You make me think there might be some hope in fucking the universe.”
“There’s hope for everyone,” she said, and leaned over to steal away his words before he could argue.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Her hair fell around them, hid the nasty motel, blocked the sounds of traffic, and left just the two of them in their own private world. She moved her mouth in the words she wanted to say, but she put no air behind them. It seemed that he kissed her back just a little more fervently, a little more deeply. He pulled her shirt up and over her head, unsnapping her bra and sending it into the corner of the room. His hands roamed her back freely, his fingers massaging and squeezing her body, learning it inch by inch.
She let her hips drift over his, back and forth, grinding into him without any particular rhythm or need. She could feel his heat, his length, his incredibly hard cock beneath her, and even as that one part of her mind continued to shout about what a horrible idea this whole thing was, she remembered how good it felt to have him buried in her, as deep as he could manage, and she wanted that again.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said, tracing one finger over her unbruised cheek.
“Right now? You sound like my grandma.”
He laughed, tweaking one of her nipples. “Granted. But what else are you thinking?”
She moved over him more slowly, enjoying the way his breath changed and moved with her. Putting her thoughts into words hadn’t ever been her strongest suit, unless she was talking about programming code or making sense of someone’s books and explaining to them why they were still going into debt. Emotional truths and deep philosophy weren’t subjects she’d practiced on.
Finally, she said, “I want you in my life. I don’t know what that looks like yet. But I want you there. And we can work out the details.”
His eyes went serious. “Even though I couldn’t keep you safe?”
“I’m alive. You did the best you could.”
His expression was still tortured, and his hands were moving faster again, regaining that frantic motion that was so far from what she wanted right now.
She cupped his face. “Will you let me take care of you for a minute?”
“I—what?”
She slid down his legs until her mouth was level with his navel. His eyes were wide as she lowered her head, mouthing him through the thick denim. “Jesus,” he moaned. “Is that what you want?”
“Okay. Yeah. Please.”
S
he shucked off her own jeans as he undid his and slid them, as well as his boxers, down and off his legs. She’d never had a chance to really luxuriate in seeing his cock before; she’d only gotten her mouth on it when he’d tied her down and fucked her mouth, and now, she took the opportunity to take it in her hand, stroking softly down the thick length, playing with her tongue as the loose skin shifted and moved around his rock-hard core.
The light of want played over his face as she took him in her mouth, just the tip, teasing and sucking with her tongue, dragging her hand down from the head to the base as he sighed up into her.
He tasted salty, masculine and heavy on her tongue. “Caro, oh, Caroline,” he whispered as she took him just a little bit deeper into her mouth. “You’re incredibly good at that.”
“Why thank you,” she murmured, and then plunged her mouth down, taking as much of him in as she could without gagging. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved going down on a man who was enjoying the experience for itself.
Mason certainly seemed to fit that category; with each motion of her mouth and hand, he moved with her, arching into her mouth, making small sounds of pleasure and arousal. Too many of the guys she’d blown in college had enjoyed a blowjob only as lesser form of sex, but he was completely engaged and it was a good thing she still had her panties on, or her thighs would be slick with her own arousal.
Her clit was sensitive, hardening and swollen. She was whimpering on her own now, desperate for more contact than she could get just by squeezing her thighs together.
“Baby,” he whispered. ‘Turn around. Let me have you in my mouth.”
“I—what?” That only worked in porn movies, she was sure of it.
“I want my tongue on you while you’re blowing me. Take your panties off and turn around.”
The look in his eyes was so sincere, so intense, that she couldn’t bring herself to say no. She skimmed her panties down off her hips, and they joined her bra in the corner. She let him guide her into place, straddling his shoulders, and then bent over to take his cock in her mouth again. She was spread so wide over his face, and she’d never felt so naked. His hands massaged her thighs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive inner areas, so close to her cleft, but so far away. “New for you?” he asked.
“Tried it a couple times. Never worked out.”
“Just play,” he said. “If we’re not comfortable, we try something else. It’s okay.”
It was exactly what she needed to hear. She bent down over him. The change in position meant that she needed both her hands to lean on, and she compensated by suckling his cock harder, since she couldn’t use her hand to increase the pressure.
The angle was better than when she was between his thighs, his cock more naturally sliding over her tongue and into her mouth. And then his tongue found her clit, and she groaned hard, completely unable to keep her mouth on him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing out from her swollen clit.
He teased her sensitive nub for a moment, letting her enjoy it, and then backed off again. She gasped, harsh and loud, and then took his cock in her mouth again, stroking over him, teasing the head with her tongue and teeth.
He enjoyed it, moaning and thrusting into her mouth, and then his tongue came to her body again, entering her and fucking her as his thumbs teased over her clit again. She forced herself to focus, taking him into her mouth as she whimpered and groaned, letting her hips match his rhythm as they thrust back into his mouth, letting him fuck her deeper and harder as the sensations in her body started to swirl and narrow down into the center of her.
She held on as long as she could, loving the sensation of him filling her mouth as his tongue filled her slit, but as the waves of pleasure overtook her, she was too scared of hurting him, and she pulled back, resting her head on his naval as she came with a body shuddering groan.
“Yes,” he whispered as she came, again and again. “Yes, give me all of it, give me all of you. I will keep you safe.”
When she could think, she turned to face him again, snagged the condom from where it had fallen among the sheets. If they were doing pornstar tricks today, she could get on board with that. She held his eyes as she put the condom in her mouth and bent over his erection.
When the latex was smoothly in place, she looked up at his eyes, which were huge and wide. “Holy shit,” he said. “I thought that only happened in porn flicks.”
“I’m full of sassy tricks,” she said, and then straddled him again.
He sat up before she could slide him into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re amazing,” he said. “Completely incredible.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
He lifted her, guiding her hips up, and then settled them over him with a silence that filled the room. As he slid home inside of her, his eyes were tight and solid on hers. “I think you know,” he said, thrusting into her as he drove her hips down onto his. “You’re the first person who’s gotten me to think, to breathe, since I came back. You’re amazing.”
He was so close that she could see him fighting for focus with each movement. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough that she thought he’d leave bruises, and she didn’t care. She moved with him, letting him set the rhythm, and then on a moment of instinct, leaned back, balancing on her hands, curving her torso away from him. He groaned harshly, and his speed redoubled, slapping into her with ugly motions, slamming her down so hard that it hurt, driving on the edge of pain that she could handle.
“Caro,” he called out, as he drove into her, “Caro, Caroline, I love you, I love you, I love you.” As he came, he clutched her to him, cradling her to his chest as he sagged backwards, holding her tightly, and all she could think to do would be to stroke his face softly, tracing those same secret patterns on his skin that he’d used to unlock her, until they both slept.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Mason watched her drift off to sleep, the kind of utter collapse into complete limpness that suggested that she hadn’t been sleeping well up to now. That she hadn’t slept well didn’t surprise him; that she was allowing herself to sleep now, when he was the only thing between her and danger, was shocking. And wonderful.
He slid his arm out from under her; she didn’t even stir. He got up, dressed, packed her meager belongings and dropped them into the trunk of his borrowed car. He left the back door open, then picked her up off the bed, keeping the blanket draped over her body. She snuggled into his chest, a small, secretive smile on her lips. “You’re going to kill me when you wake up,” he said, transferring her gently into the car. “And I’m so going to deserve it.”
***
She dreamed wonderful dreams, dreams of being cuddled and held, kept safe and sound, and then being gently rocked to sleep, an easy motion that soothed her. So it was both a shock and a sensible thing to wake up in the back of a car. She rocketed up, and then realized that she was still completely naked. She was wrapped up in the nasty blanket from the motel, and Mason was in the front seat, driving north on a highway she knew way too well. He was taking her home.
“What the fuck?” she screamed, right in his ear. “What the actual fuck!” She would have hit him, but they were driving fast, and she wasn’t buckled in—seriously? What kind of brain-donor dick stuck someone in the back of a car, naked, and then took off down the interstate at 90 mph? And she didn’t want to die. Not until she killed him dead.
“I told you.” His hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel again. “I need to deal with Declan, and to do that, I need you safe. Really safe this time, not pretend safe.”
“So what’s the plan, you ass? Lock me up in a cell and shove food through a slot? Make me your little sex slave until you decide life is safe enough?” His silence was telling, and he gripped the steering wheel even harder. “You son of a bitch.”
There was nothing she could do until he stopped the car, though. She flopped back against the seat and resisted the urge to dissolve into tears. It wouldn’t help, it wouldn�
�t change anything. She’d still be trapped in a moving vehicle with some jackass who thought he knew better than her with everything in the world.
“Your clothes are there next to you, on the seat,” he said. His tone was trying to be conciliatory, kind, but that just made her want to hit him again. “It’ll only be for a few days. And then Declan will be gone, and we’ll figure out what happens next.”
She contemplated refusing to get dressed, but that seemed foolish. It wouldn’t really gain her anything. She did tuck the blanket around her body, however, not allowing him to see even the slightest flash of skin as she maneuvered back into her clothes.
“How the hell did you get me in here? Did you drug me?” Her head didn’t feel fogged, and besides, if he’d drugged her, she would have been out for a while, and they’d most likely be in Canada by now.