She held her palms up and hunched her shoulders. “I just don’t understand how someone who hates me can be so nice, while someone I was married to just a year ago treats me like dirt.”
Mason grimaced. “I don’t hate you, Jada. Please, stop saying that.”
“But, you do,” she insisted. “We hate each other; always have. That’s just how we roll.” She said it so matter-of-factly Mason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you want some water?” he asked.
She nodded.
He walked two steps into her kitchen—it was literally two steps away—and poured a glass of water from one of those water-filtration pitchers. He brought her the glass, then went into the bathroom in search of a washcloth.
He grabbed one from a wire shelf that stood over the toilet and soaked it with warm water. As he rung out the washcloth, Mason caught sight of something black and lacy sitting on top of the heap of laundry in the clothes hamper.
“Holy shit,” he choked out.
He braced his hands against the sides of the sink and sucked in a deep breath. How in the hell did he end up in Jada Dangerfield’s bathroom, just inches from her black lace panties? How in the hell was he supposed to go back out there and not picture her wearing something similar? Maybe in blue? Hot pink?
Damn, but he didn’t need this right now. Neither did Jada. Something had happened to her tonight that had rubbed her emotions raw. What she needed from him was that same tender care she’d given his injured arm yesterday. She did not need him obsessing over her underwear. Her possibly hot pink underwear.
Mason squeezed his eyes tight and did his best to pull himself together, despite the lust that continued to rush through his veins like a runaway freight train.
He re-wet the washcloth and rung it out again before heading back to the living room.
Jada sat with her feet tucked underneath her, both hands wrapped around the glass of water. Mason handed her the washcloth. He’d had all intentions of wiping the tears from her face for her, but now every instinct advised he maintain his distance.
Well, as much distance as possible in this tiny ass apartment.
One part of him—the reasonable, practical part—was telling him to get out now. He’d done his good deed for the day, going above and beyond what could be expected. But when he caught sight of her, looking so vulnerable, her emotions so exposed, his reasonable side took a backseat to the man who had been tasked since boyhood with protecting the women in his life.
Mason sat next to her on the sofa. He fought the impulse to reach for her.
“So,” he started. “Do you want to talk about what had you crying your eyes out on the side of the highway? It can’t be because you ran out of gas.”
She shook her head.
“Then what is it, Jada? Did your asshole of an ex-husband do something to you?”
She tipped her head to the side, her brows arching with curiosity. “Why have you always hated Eric so much?”
“Because he’s always been an asshole and a bully,” Mason answered. “What did he do to you?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “He got his wife pregnant,” she said, before dissolving into tears again.
Mason wasn’t sure what to do with that one. It would have been a lot easier to defend her if Eric had called her a bad name or made some other asshole-like move.
“Uh, okay,” he said.
Jada put her hand up, staving off further comment, which was a good thing because he had nothing.
“I’m just having a moment,” she said. “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it.” She twisted toward him on the sofa, putting both feet up and sliding her knees up to her chest. “His new wife showed up at the party I threw in Covington this evening. Can you believe that? I’ve given nearly a dozen Naughty Nights parties in and around Maplesville, yet she shows up to one that’s an hour away.
“Anyway,” she continued with a dismissive wave. “I chalked it up to one of those crazy coincidences, and decided to roll with it. I was doing just fine until she announced that she was pregnant. After that I just lost it. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried like a baby.”
She pressed her balled fist against her trembling lips, but she wasn’t able to stop the two tears that streamed down her face.
He’d known her over seventeen years, and had never come even close to seeing her so vulnerable. Jada was a spitfire. She was bold and brash and she didn’t take shit from anybody.
But right now she was hurting, and it was painful to watch.
Despite his better judgment, Mason palmed her knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “You’re allowed to go on a crying jag every now and then.”
“It’s just…I don’t know…like a slap in the face.” She sniffed. “I wanted a baby so badly, and we tried so many times to get pregnant.”
Okay, he was not up to hearing about Jada and Eric and their many attempts to procreate.
“I know it’s petty, but I just hate that Eric is getting his baby and I’m not.” She swiped at even more tears. Mason was surprised she had any left. “Oh, God, why am I talking about this with you? You, of all people!” She groaned, wrapping her arms around her legs and dropping her head to her knees.
“Hey,” Mason said, unable to keep the affront from his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean? Me, of all people?”
She lifted her head and shot him one of those sardonic looks he’d come to know so well from her. “You’ve been great tonight, but we both know the real deal. You’ve barely tolerated me from the moment you met me.”
Mason just stared at her for several moments, a small smile tilting up his lips. “You really are clueless, aren’t you?”
“See, that’s what I mean.” She threw her palms up. “You think I’m a dumb, clueless, airhead cheerleader.”
Mason’s brow drew inward with censure. “You beat out Callie for valedictorian of your high school class and finished college and graduate school in five years. I have never thought you were dumb, clueless, or an airhead. As for the cheerleader…well, you wore the uniform.”
And drove him crazy every time he saw her in it.
The corner of her mouth hitched in an impish grin. “I guess I can’t argue with that. I did indeed wear the uniform,” she said.
The easy smile he was able to draw from her made him feel as if he could leap tall buildings, grab clouds from the sky with his hands, do just about anything he desired.
Mason leaned over and captured her chin in his fingers. “And I told you before, I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you, Jada.”
Her skeptical expression wrung another chuckle from him. “I called you clueless because after all these years, you never figured out that I had the biggest crush on you when you first moved to Maplesville.”
She jerked her chin out of his hold. “What?”
Mason shrugged. “I did.”
“You couldn’t stand me when I first moved here. In fact, you said those exact words to me on more than one occasion.”
“I know,” Mason admitted. “What I probably should have said was that I couldn’t stand how quickly you fell for Eric’s bullshit, like every other girl in school. It was so predictable. But when I saw how hard he fell for you, it made it even worse, because I knew there had to be something special about you. It irritated the hell out of me that of all the guys you could have chosen, you chose him.”
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
Mason shook his head. “Never did. We got in a fight on the first day of second grade after I found him picking on a couple of kindergarteners. We’ve butted heads ever since.” He peered over at her. “I truly don’t know how you spent all those years with him. It’s as if you’re blind to the type of person he is.”
“Was blind,” she corrected. “My eyes are open now.” Jada blew out a tired breath. “You know what really gets to me? The fact that he’s winning. I hate it.”
“He’s winning?”
He couldn’t do anything about the first two, but Mason had to stop himself from offering to change the status on her third issue.
Jada rubbed her temples and let out a groan. “God, when did I become this whiny complainer? I hate complainers.” She shook her head and huffed out a humorless laugh. “I just don’t know how I ended up here. I was living the fairytale. Married to my high school sweetheart, living in one of the biggest houses in town, working at a great job. And then…poof. It all came crashing down.”
“But you’re still here,” Mason pointed out. He reached over and tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger. Could her skin be any softer? “You realize that what you’ve been through this past year would break some people, don’t you, Jada? But you’ve managed to it keep it together. Well, other than that little bonfire incident Kiera told me about,” he added with a grin.
She winced and dropped her head to her knees again.
“All joking aside, you should be proud of the way you’ve handled this. Despite the blows you’ve taken, you’re still standing.”
“I guess you’re right,” she muttered. “I’m alone and unemployed, but at least I’m still standing.”
“But you’re not unemployed. What about this new…what did you call it? Consulting business?”
She shrugged. “That’s just a side gig to tide me over until I can find a real job.” She glanced up at him, a wry grin tilting her lips. “Maplesville isn’t all that big. I’ll eventually run out of people to sell G-Swirl Vibrators to.”
Relief flowed through him at the sight of the humor sparkling in her eyes again. Sadness still echoed in her subdued voice, but Mason sensed she’d broken through a threshold tonight. The pleasure he derived from knowing that he’d played a role in helping her get to this point was intoxicating.
Just one more reason why he should get the hell out of here.
His work was done. In fact, he’d accomplished more than he’d set out to. He’d provided a shoulder for her to cry on, an understanding ear to listen to her list of problems.
But he didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to sit right here for as long as she would allow. So, in a move that was astoundingly contradictory to his usual mode of operation, Mason put a muzzle on the voice of reason resonating in his head and encouraged Jada to keep talking.
“How’s the job search going?” he asked.
“Well, I’m still unemployed, which should give you some indication.” She told him about a public relations position she’d applied for that she considered her ideal job. “It’s with this organization that oversees several non-profits around the New Orleans metro area. I would love to work for a company that actually does some good in the world.”
“What’s the organization?” Mason asked, hoping she would name one in particular.
“The Fortier Foundation,” she answered.
That was the one.
Mason had to stop himself from smiling. Maybe he could help solve one of the issues plaguing her. He made a mental note to make a call tomorrow.
“The job market is pretty competitive, so I’m not holding my breath,” Jada continued. “I’m just grateful to have the Naughty Nights parties providing some income.”
“How did you get into throwing these parties anyway?” Mason asked, settling back on the sofa and draping an arm across the top of it.
“I saw an advertisement in one of those Internet pop-up ads.”
He tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Exactly what were you looking at in order to get that kind of pop-up?”
Her forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just thinking about the way Internet advertising works. Your web browser stores cookies based on the various websites you visit, and use that info to target their ads. So, what kind of websites were you looking at in order to get pop-up advertising for erotic toys?”
Her mouth opened and closed as her light brown cheeks instantly reddened. She groaned, burying her face in her hands.
A laughed rumbled from deep in his belly.
“Oh, shut up, Mason,” she mumbled from behind her hands.
“God, you’re adorable.”
She spread her fingers, peeking at him through the openings. “You just called me adorable.”
“Because you are,” he murmured, narrowing the distance between them. Mason halted for just a moment, giving her the chance to object.
She didn’t. She just stared at his lips, her chest rising and falling softly with her measured breaths.
Mason leaned forward, finally touching his lips to hers.
That first touch was everything he’d expected, yet more than he could have ever imagined. Her mouth was soft, and pliant, and so damn delicious it was like a decadent dessert at the end of a fine meal. Mason traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, concentrating on every nuance: the bow shape that dipped in the center, the subtle poutiness of her bottom lip, and the incredible, velvety feel of them as she yielded to his kiss.
Her lips parted slightly, and he took full advantage, licking his way into her mouth, plying her with firm, deliberate strokes. He caressed the inside of her mouth, acquiring knowledge of every corner, relishing its taste and texture. Mason’s skin prickled with want as he cradled the back of her head and held her in place while his tongue advanced and retreated, gently thrusting, steadily devouring.
Jada’s tongue took a tentative surge forward, wringing a groan from deep in his throat.
His body reacted predictably to the feel of her supple, exquisite lips against his, the organ in his lap burgeoning with arousal. His skin grew tight; his muscles tensing with the flood of need coursing through him. His fingers massaged the back of her head as his other hand crept up her side. He hesitated for just a moment before covering her breast with his palm.
A tortured moan tore out of Mason’s throat as the feel of her rock hard nipple branded his palm. He squeezed and rubbed her breast, committing the sensation to memory.
This had been a fantasy for far too long. He’d dreamed of what Jada would taste like, how it would feel to touch her like this. It was everything he’d imagined and more.
And, God, how he wanted more.
Which was why he needed to stop.
Her emotions were still raw, all of her vulnerabilities still too exposed. He refused to go any further knowing that she was at a disadvantage.
Mason indulged in one final sweep of her mouth, then immediately decided it wasn’t enough and stroked his tongue again, savoring every drop of her flavor just in case this was the one and only time he would get to experience it. With the strength of will one called upon only once in a lifetime, he forced himself to pull away. His tongue instantly regretted the absence of the moist warmth it had been enjoying a second ago.
Jada’s eyes slowly open. They were a bit dazed, as if she wasn’t sure what had just happened.
He knew exactly what had happened, and damn if he wasn’t seconds from begging her to let it happen again. Mason braced his hands on his thighs and pushed himself up, the need to escape temptation reluctant, but necessary.
“I should go,” he said. “Will you lock the door behind me?”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees again. “I’ll get it in a minute,” she said.
Mason stopped with his hand on the doorknob and glanced back at her. “Will you be okay?”
Another nod. “I will,” she said, her voice thready. “Mason,” she called when he opened the door. He looked back. “Thank you for not really hating me all these years.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome. Good night, Jada,” he said before shutting the door behind him.
Once in his car, Ma
son strapped himself into his seat and turned over the ignition. He gripped the steering wheel, glancing at the time illuminated on the dash. It was nearly eleven p.m. Still, he let his car idle for another ten minutes while he stared at Jada’s second-floor apartment and tried to convince himself not to walk back up there and knock on her door.
Chapter Five
Reclining in his desk chair, Mason flipped through the ledger that had been delivered by special courier this morning. He had an afternoon meeting scheduled with the CFO of Marshall Construction, the first client he’d landed when he began working at Olivier, Broussard and Polk fresh out of law school.
It was a good thing he knew Marshall’s finances inside and out, because his concentration was for shit today.
Mason tossed the ledger on the desk, swiveled his chair around, and stared at the view of the Mississippi River afforded by his office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. He tapped a capped pen against his lips, his eyes drawn to a line of colorful barges drifting along the calm water.
As he absently observed the lazy river traffic, Mason allowed his mind to fully embrace the memory of last night, when he’d captured Jada’s lips in the kind of kiss that could distract a normally focused workaholic from focusing on anything else.
If he hadn’t put an end to their kiss, he had no doubt they would have ended up naked on her tiny couch. He and Jada. Naked. Together.
Shit. He wanted that so badly his skin tightened just at the thought.
He’d done the right thing in leaving. The morally-sound, gentlemanly part of him knew that taking advantage of her weakened defenses would have been wrong. But there was another part that wanted to say to hell with being a gentleman; the part that was dying to finally fulfill all the fantasies he’d indulged in over the years.
“Thank goodness you didn’t,” Mason murmured to himself. Exploiting her vulnerability would have made him no better than that piece of shit she’d been married to.
Just thinking about Eric and the way Jada cried over him last night made Mason want to pummel the wall with his fist, the way he’d pummeled Eric’s face back when they were kids. He’d left out of a sense of integrity last night, but he realized that nothing he did or didn’t do could ever be as bad as what Eric had done to her. Eric had broken her spirit, and Mason was all too willing to help her mend it back together.
A Little Bit Naughty (Moments in Maplesville) Page 6