He sat down and guided her to sit between his legs, her back resting against his chest. She snuggled against him, shivering a little. He pulled off his sweatshirt and helped her put it on.
She ran her hands over his forearms and said, “This reminds me of the first night we met, when I maimed your arms.”
“I wanted to hold you like this that first night, but you hadn’t yet taunted me into crossing the uncrossable line between us.”
“I hadn’t taunted you into it? Like I was some kind of seductress?” She turned her face, so he could see the scowl she was feigning.
She was so adorable, he had to laugh. “Don’t worry, babe. I take all the blame, and given the chance, I’d do it all over again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MASON AWOKE TO the sound of soft music and a cool breeze brushing over his legs. He climbed from the bed, grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from the box, which they had yet to unpack, and put them on. The doors to the screened porch were open, but Remi wasn’t there. The music floating in from the living room told Mason where she was. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, then followed the trail of clothes they’d left on the floor last night, remnants of how hungry they’d been for each other, out to the living room.
The French doors were all open. Remi stood on the deck wearing his sweatshirt, which hung low on one side but bunched around her other hip, exposing one perfect, creamy butt cheek. Her honey hair lay over one shoulder. The toes of her right foot rested on the bottom rung of the railing. He’d never get used to the way his heart stumbled every time he saw her. It hadn’t been that way at first glance. He’d been physically attracted to her, of course—she was gorgeous. But he’d had her pegged all wrong, thinking she was a diva. His feelings had sure developed quickly, starting that first night at the fundraiser as he’d watched her with her friends and Aiden. As he’d gotten to know her, there was no stopping them. He’d never known love, much less anything like the inescapable and insatiable adoration they shared. The depth of emotions she continued to unearth often sent him reeling, and he knew in his soul that would never change. She was his own private miracle. She could do anything, go anywhere, and yet she wanted to share his world. Did she know she made that world so much brighter than he’d ever imagined? They were so deeply connected, he didn’t even have to ask what she was doing out there all alone. He already knew.
She was finally free.
Almost, anyway. She was still putting on a brave face about Aiden, though he knew his bighearted girl was carrying guilt over not having told her brother about them, the same way he was. Just a few more days and hopefully that would ease, too, and then she could truly be free. He had an inkling that there was even more to Remi than either of them realized and that other parts of her might not appear until years after she climbed out from under Aiden’s caring wings. That just gave Mason even more to look forward to.
He stepped outside and said, “Hey, beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.
She made a soft purring sound, turning in his arms. “Can you believe we have all day to do whatever we want?”
He slipped his hands beneath the sweatshirt, taking hold of her bare bottom. “And what would you like to do?”
“You,” she said saucily. “And I have a very long to-do list.” She pressed her kiss to the tattoo on his chest and said, “I think I’m addicted to being in your arms.”
“That’s funny,” he said, his fingers grazing the warmth between her legs. “Because I’m addicted to having you there.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she bowed against him, grabbing his butt. He loved when she claimed him. It spurred him on to tease between her legs, dipping his fingers inside her. She moaned into their kisses, amping up his arousal.
“God, baby, you own me,” he said heatedly.
He reclaimed her mouth more demandingly, his fingers moving in and out of her slick heat, teasing over the spot that elicited sharp little gasps with every stroke. She ground against his hard length. She felt so good, he wanted to wrap her sexy little hands around the railing and take her from behind until she cried out his name so loud it echoed in the forest. But the sweet, sinful noises she was making, and the way she felt rubbing against him, was too good to stop. He teased her until she went up on her toes, grinding against his hand.
She tore her mouth from his, whimpering against his cheek. “Please, Mason. Make me come,” she pleaded.
He dropped to his knees and sealed his mouth over her center.
She fisted her hands in his hair. “Yes,” she panted out, her thighs flexing. “Don’t stop. Right there . . . Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh! Mason!”
Fireworks went off inside him as her sex pulsed around his thrusting tongue. She bucked against his mouth, a stream of sexy sounds sailing from her lips. God, he loved to pleasure her.
“Again, again, again,” she pleaded.
That was another thing he loved about her. The closer they became, the more she dropped her sexual boundaries. He quickened his efforts, loving the low, surrendering moans he elicited as she climbed toward the clouds, gasping and pleading until she shattered, gloriously—and then collapsed, boneless and beautiful, against him.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He crushed her to him, kissing her with all he had as he lifted her into his arms and carried her through the living room and into the bedroom. He lay her on the bed, making quick work of stripping off her sweatshirt and then his briefs.
He came down over her, and as their bodies became one, he breathed against her neck, “God, I fucking love you, Remi. You’ve become the very air I breathe.”
“I want to be so much more,” she said.
He kissed her then, soft and lovingly. “We’re one being, Remi. Don’t you feel it?”
“Yes, with every piece of my soul.”
The first touch of their lips was sensual and soft, but as he’d come to expect, their hearts took over, their movements synced, and their kisses became passionate proclamations of their love. Remi wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him so tight, he knew she felt as swept away as he did.
“Harder,” she pleaded.
He thrust harder, gritting his teeth to hold back his mounting release.
“Come with me,” she said against his neck.
The love in her voice sent a surge of desire through him. He held her tighter, loved her deeper, and they spiraled over the edge together. He clung to her, panting out her name like a prayer, staying with her as their bodies jerked with aftershocks, until they were both too spent to move.
She melted against him as they came down from the clouds. They lay tangled together for a long time, the morning air cooling their heated flesh.
Mason pressed a kiss to her temple. “Love you, Princess.”
She slicked her tongue along his neck, sending prickles of heat to his core, and teased him with her hands, turning him into a greedy bundle of lust and love.
“I love you, Mason,” she said softly, and then she straddled him. Her silky hair fell like a curtain around their faces as she whispered, “Let me show you how much . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
PIPER’S SUGGESTION OF not leaving the cabin had been a good one. After the most exquisite day spent relaxing in the sun and loving each other, followed by an evening cuddled up by a warm fire where they made love long into the night, they were greeted Friday morning with the same rejuvenating feelings—and excitement over getting Remi’s first tattoo. Yesterday they’d researched local tattoo artists, and once Mason was sure they were safe and skilled, they found the font Remi wanted for her tattoo and made an appointment.
They lounged around the cabin all morning, and then went into town and treated themselves to a delicious pizza.
As Remi bit into her third slice, Mason said, “I’m so glad to see you aren’t afraid to eat when you’re not filming.”
“I told you. I’m just a normal person doing what I have to in order to maintain my career. I
have plenty of time to lose any weight I might gain before the promotional tour for the movie starts.”
Mason’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s Porter.” He held up one finger as he answered the call. “Hey, Porter, what’s the update?” He nodded. “Good. Of course he is. Go over all the case docs one more time, just to be sure we haven’t missed anything. Yes. Great. Thanks for keeping me in the loop.”
“Well?” she asked as he pocketed his phone.
“The judge denied bail, which means the guy will be in jail until the trial. He’s denying having broken into your house in LA, but they have proof that he was in LA at the time, so he’s probably just trying to get out of that charge.”
Relief swept through Remi like a gale-force wind. She threw her arms around Mason’s neck, hugging him tight and counting her blessings. “I didn’t realize how worried I was that he might get out. I’m so relieved.”
“I think we can all breathe a little easier now.”
“I’ll say! We should get down to the tattoo shop. It’s almost time for my appointment.”
“Do you want to call Aiden first?”
“I’ll text him and the girls on the way. I don’t want to be late, and they’ll all be glad to hear the news.”
She texted Aiden and her friends as they walked along the courtyard. The girls’ responses rolled in one after another, excited that the man who had harassed her would remain behind bars.
“Aiden must be in a meeting,” she said as they entered the tattoo shop.
Her gaze swept over the seating areas on either side of the doors, with black leather couches and tables covered in tattoo books and magazines. A guy with short dark hair, thick forearms covered in ink, and large ear gauges sat behind a desk. Red walls decorated with framed pictures of tattoos and dark-themed artwork surrounded three workstations, where tattooists hunkered down over their current clients, tattoo guns in hand. Each station was separated by a half wall, giving Remi a clear view of the artists at work.
The persistent buzz of the guns made her pulse quicken. “I’ve never actually been inside a tattoo parlor,” she said nervously.
Mason put his arm around her. “You’ve got this, babe, but if you want to back out, now’s the time.” He was so supportive, gently nudging her when she needed it and never pressuring her to do things she might not want to.
“I want to do this, and I’m glad you’re here with me. I couldn’t do it alone.”
He flashed that devastating smile that had first caught her eye and said, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
“Maybe, but I’ve wanted this forever, and never got up the guts to do it until you came into my life.”
“Can I help you?” the guy behind the desk asked.
Mason stepped up and said, “We have an appointment for Swift.”
It was silly, but her heart did a little happy dance knowing he’d used his name for her appointment.
“Right. I’ll need a copy of your driver’s license, and you’ll need to fill out this paperwork. Crish will be doing your tattoo.” He pointed to a bearded guy wearing black-framed glasses and a beanie, currently tattooing a woman’s shoulder. “He should be done any minute.”
Remi gave him her driver’s license.
“Remington Aldridge. Cool name. I’m just going to make a copy of this. You can sit down and fill out the paperwork.”
“Guess he doesn’t go to the movies,” Mason said as they sat down.
“Good,” Remi whispered. “I love that no one here has recognized me. It makes it easier to relax.”
Twenty minutes later she was sitting in a black chair beside Crish as he put a transfer of the tattoo she wanted on the inside of her wrist. He was a nice guy with colorful inked sleeves, the name Gloria tattooed on the left side of his neck, and a tiny anchor tattooed behind his right ear. Mason stood beside her, arms crossed, brows knitted. She was sure he looked as imposing to Crish as he was reassuring to her.
“Take a minute to be sure this is exactly what you want,” Crish said as he lifted the transfer paper off her skin. “There’s no rush, and if you’d like to adjust the placement, it’s no big deal.” He began preparing his tattoo gun.
Remi looked at the simple cursive script on her wrist—Just Breathe—and her mother’s voice whispered those words through her mind. Unexpected emotions floated up inside her. She reached for Mason’s hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she choked out. “I just heard my mom’s voice.” Her eyes teared up, and she looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink them dry.
Mason sat on the edge of the chair, facing her. “We don’t have to do this. We can leave right now.”
“No, that’s just it. I know it’s right. These are happy tears.”
Crish handed her a wad of tissues and said, “I was going to ask you if you had a stressful job and that was why you were getting this tattoo. But I guess it’s much more personal than that.”
Remi dabbed at her eyes, sharing a secret smile with Mason over not being recognized. “It is. My mom died when I was young, and she said that to me.”
“It’s a nice tribute to her.” Crish sat back and said, “Take your time.”
“I don’t need time. This is exactly what I want.” She looked at Mason, glad for his support, and said, “I’m ready.”
“You picked a pretty painful place for your first tattoo,” Crish said. “Try not to jerk your arm.”
“Okay.” She squeezed Mason’s hand so tight his fingers turned red as Crish began tattooing. “Okay, yeah, that hurts.”
Crish stopped, his face empathetic. “You okay? Need a break?”
Mason kissed the top of her head in silent support.
“No, I’m good.” She closed her eyes as Crish began tattooing again, and a few seconds later she mustered the courage to watch. “Mason, can you take a picture? I want to remember this. Wait. Crish, I’m sorry, but can you stop for a sec?” He stopped, and she said, “I know this is going to seem silly, but can we ask someone to take a picture of the three of us while you do it, with Mason holding my hand?”
“That’s not silly. This is a memorable occasion. Ink’s addicting, too. Before you know it, you’ll have three more tats, and you should always remember your first.” Crish called up to the front, “Hey, Taylor! Can you take a pic for us?”
The guy from the front sauntered back, and Remi gave him her phone. As Crish tattooed her wrist, Taylor took a few pictures, and then he gave the phone to Mason.
“Thank you,” Remi said. “This feels like a big step in the right direction, but I still wish I had said goodbye.”
“Me too, Princess,” Mason said.
Crish sat back with a thoughtful expression, his dark eyes lifting to Mason as he said, “Did you lose someone, too?”
“Brothers-in-arms,” Mason answered tightly.
“Right,” Crish said. “Thanks for your service, man.”
Mason nodded curtly. Remi wasn’t surprised that Mason didn’t reveal the loss of his mother. She blew him a kiss, earning that sexy smile she loved.
“My friend Gertie has a place down the street, Gertie’s Gifts,” Crish said. “She sells wire-free sky lanterns that you light and release. When I lost my dad, it was sudden, and there were no goodbyes. A buddy of mine set up a goodbye ceremony for him. We went to my dad’s favorite place, and we each said something, and then we released the lanterns. It was life changing for me. Freeing.” He shrugged, and as he began tattooing again, he said, “Just an idea.”
“I love that idea, and I know the perfect place. What do you think, Mason?”
“Sounds like a plan. Private and meaningful.”
A while later they walked out of the shop with tattoo-care instructions in hand and Remi’s new tattoo safely covered with a sterile bandage.
“You were so brave.” Mason hugged her as they headed down the street toward Gertie’s Gifts.
“You’re dating a tattooed badass now.”
>
He laughed. “I’ve got news for you, Princess. You’ve always been badass. Tell me about the place you want to release the lanterns.”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you when we get home. It’s not far from the cabin. I’d really like to have the ceremony at the break of dawn. Is that okay? I know that doing this won’t be a miracle cure, but it feels like it could be a stepping-stone toward letting go of some of our painful pasts and moving forward with a little less guilt and longing on our minds. It would be symbolic to do it as a new day rises. New day, new outlook.”
“I love the way your mind works, and dawn sounds perfect. Just like you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MASON SCANNED THE area out of habit as he carried their shopping bags into the cabin, but it was just as quiet and peaceful as ever. After picking up lanterns at the gift shop, they’d meandered through several other stores, picking up matching Auburn Grove sweatshirts and a few scented candles that Remi said reminded her of all things happy.
She flitted around the cabin in the chunky black boots she’d worn to Decadence, opening the French doors in the master bedroom and living room, letting the fresh air in. She looked gorgeous in a flouncy floral miniskirt with an oversized gray sweater that had slipped off her shoulder so many times it had quickly become one of his favorites—giving him better access to kiss her there.
Mason was filling a glass with ice water when Remi grabbed a belt loop on the back of his jeans, tugging him toward the doors.
“Come on, I want to show you the place for the ceremony.”
He guzzled the water and then swept her into his arms for a hard kiss. “You’re like a whole new person.”
She held up her wrist, which was now bandage-free, showing off her tattoo, and said, “You mean I’m a badass babe, right?” She smirked. “It’s amazing what knowing the stalker is behind bars does to a girl. Now, come on, let’s go!”
She dragged him by the hand out the door and down a trail by the side of the house. “My dad and I used to come out here early in the mornings, before anyone else was awake. He’d drink coffee and make up stories about the most outrageous things, which was funny, because my father was as serious as Aiden. Risky business was not in his repertoire.” She plowed through long grass, hopping over rocks and logs with renewed energy. “Anyway, he’d tell me about the time he supposedly wrestled a bear or rode an elk.” She laughed softly. “I really miss that time with him.”
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