by Lacey Black
Perfect Kiss
Mason Creek #9
USA Today Bestselling Author
Lacey Black
Perfect Kiss
Mason Creek #9
Copyright © 2021 Lacey Black
Cover Design by Opium House
Stock Cover Image from Bigstock Photo
Editing by Kara Hildebrand
Proofreading by Joanne Thompson & Karen Hrdlicka
Format by Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright
This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
Published in the United States of America.
All rights reserved.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
The End
Mason Creek Series
Books Also by Lacey Black
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
Malcolm
If there’s one thing I dislike about city council meetings, it’s sitting beside Betsy.
Betsy Reed filled her husband’s unexpired term more than a decade ago, after Bernie passed away, and has been elected to the seat ever since. She’s a sweet ol’ lady with the best flower garden in town, but she’s just a tad on the…smelly side. A combination of mothballs used where she stores her forty-year-old pantsuits and the cheapest perfume known to man, probably popular during the JFK dynasty, makes for a nauseating meeting.
Plus, she’s a hugger. No amount of sexual harassment policies or mandatory training videos will stop her. Believe me, we’ve tried. But the woman is just overly friendly and has to hug. Everyone. All the time.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” I announce, pardoning myself from the small group of council members who stayed after the meeting to visit. Usually, I’d be right there with them, but not tonight. I’m in desperate need of some fresh air.
I head down the hall until I reach my office, the gold-plated sign reading Mayor Malcolm Wright displayed prominently on the door. That’s me. Mayor of Mason Creek. I’m a third-generation mayor, both my father and grandfather holding the position before me. Unlike them, however, I’m not married with a child while holding the office. Much to their dismay, I’m married to my career with my sights set on something bigger and better.
Senator.
But let’s not get ahead of myself. Right now, I’m content learning the ins and outs of local government and enjoying the single life and all it has to offer.
And damn, does it have a lot to offer.
If you know what I mean.
I step inside the small bathroom in my office and change my clothes. From a suit and tie to running shorts and a T-shirt. My Italian loafers are exchanged for Nike runners. I grab my phone and my earbuds and head for the back door.
Fortunately, there’s no one in this part of the building. Everyone is congregating toward the front, where the city offices are located, including the large boardroom used by the council and committees. I’m able to stretch for my run in peace and quiet, even though my mind is stuck on an aged building code I’ve been trying to push for updating. If I’m going to get support to release the sidewalk restrictions in town, I’m going to have to get the business owners involved.
The city implemented an ordinance decades ago that businesses can’t set up merchandise or displays on city-owned sidewalks. The thought was it causes fall risks for those utilizing the walkways. However, I see it differently. If a business were to tastefully display their products outside, it’s a draw, not only for those walking by, but also on the streets. It’s a form of advertising, much like their big window displays, and I know the local business owners would be thrilled with the idea.
I just have to rally some support.
Maybe I’ll corner a few at the next Chamber of Commerce gathering in the park. That’s prime opportunity to discuss my ideas with those who will benefit the most.
I set out at a grueling pace, quickly moving through the streets as the miles tick by. Of course, I make sure to avoid certain roads. There’s a woman over on Oak Street who said she’d rather see a buffalo eating my rotting carcass than me in a grocery store aisle, and another over on Yount Avenue who hopes my balls get a horrible flesh-eating fungus and fall off.
Since I’m particularly fond of my balls, I avoid her like the plague.
I feel like I’m living in that George Strait song about his exes living in Texas. Except, all of mine live in Mason Creek, Montana.
That’s what you get when you’re a sworn bachelor in a small town of just under three thousand. I’ve always loved Mason Creek. It’s actually full of rich history, something I’ve always found fascinating. It’s a great place, where everyone knows you and waves as you pass.
It’s also a place where, because everyone knows you, they know everything about you. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And when you’re a sworn bachelor, burning through all the single ladies in the county, there tends to be your fair share of ugly.
Like Miss Flesh-Eating Fungus Lady. I heard about it at the post office. And the bank. And the grocery store. And that was before noon.
After pounding out a quick four miles, I wind my way back to the heart of town, where City Hall lies. I walk the remaining block to my destination, past my attorney’s office, the bank, ice cream stand, and the fountain until I’m finally where I started. I do a few more stretches, noticing the streets are now empty, the stragglers from tonight’s meeting gone home.
I let myself in and make my way to my office. I notice the light on in the conference room and make a mental note to shut it off before I leave. Right now, all I can think about is taking a shower. Between the residual mothball scent that seems to stick to my skin every month and the BO from my run, I’m desperate to wash up.
Fortunately, there’s a small bathroom with a shower in my office. I have no idea why. No one seems to know. It was there when my grandfather took the office more than two decades ago, and no one seemed to remember why it was put in.
But I’m not going to argue. It’s times like these I’m grateful as hell to have a shower. It comes in handy on late nights or early mornings, both of which I’ve had during my short time as Mayor of Mason Creek. I can move from the Wright and Son Law Office to here easily and vice versa and still get in my daily run.
I make it work.
Before my grandfather was the mayor, he started his own law firm. Family law, mostly. Divorces, child custody cases, restraining orders, and spousal maintenance and property. It wasn’t until my dad joined him years later—hence the Wright and Son name—that more business and bankruptcy law services were offered, and now with me joining the business, we’ve incorporated my passion for wills, estate planning, and probate to
o.
I toe off my running shoes near my desk and pad toward the bathroom, dropping my sweaty shirt on the floor as I go. When I’m in the bathroom, I turn on the hot water and strip off the rest of my clothes. The water feels amazing, scalding, yet soothing my overworked and achy muscles.
I take a quick shower, scrubbing off the run, before stepping out onto the tile floor. There are a handful of towels on a shelf, so I grab one and start to dry my body. Just as I move the terrycloth to my back, the bathroom door flies open and in walks a woman.
A very beautiful woman.
Her wide hazel eyes meet mine before dropping. I can tell the moment they land on my groin, because they enlarge even farther, almost comically so. Like a cartoon. Except there’s nothing funny about what’s suddenly happening to my cock. It has definitely taken a strong interest in the double-X chromosome in the room.
When those hypnotic orbs find mine, she gasps, dropping whatever’s in her hand. A spray bottle of some sort and maybe a cleaning rag, but I can’t be sure. My own eyes are glued to hers, like watching the sun set over the ocean, I’m completely enthralled.
Even if I’m standing here buck ass naked.
“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” she bellows, bringing her hands up to her eyes to shield them.
A lot of good that’ll do. She’s already seen the goods.
“It’s okay,” I insist, taking a step forward and resting my towel on my shoulders.
“I didn’t know anyone was still here,” she insists quickly, still covering her eyes with her hand.
I take a moment to enjoy the view. She’s average height with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail. It’s brown and is begging for my fingers to tangle in those long locks. She’s got the cutest button nose and her lips are plump and ripe for kissing.
But that’s not what holds my attention now. It’s that damn hourglass figure that should be illegal in this state. Large tits that beg to be freed from their confines and the most delicious ass I’ve ever seen. My cock definitely takes notice and appreciates the view very much.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to need another shower; this time a very cold one.
“Mr. Mayor. Sir. I’m so sorry for…” She waves her hand at the door and then at me, all while holding the other hand up to her face, and I have to fight to keep the grin at bay.
“Well, you seem to have me at a disadvantage. And you are?” I ask, amused to find her eyes peeking through the crack of her fingers.
“Lenora Abbott. Leni,” she states, taking a step back, as if looking to make a hasty retreat. “Sir.”
I can’t help but smirk. I hate it when people call me sir, but hearing this woman say it, her voice full of nervousness and shock, well, I suddenly don’t seem to mind at all.
Ahh, yes. Lenora Abbott. She was about six years younger than me in school, and even though we didn’t hang in the same circles, it’s a small enough town that I recognize the name right away. Plus, I’ve seen her out and about a few times since her return. No one slips into Mason Creek without everyone taking notice.
“Well, Lenora Abbott, I have to admit, you’ve caught me by surprise,” I tease, leaving the towel across my shoulders and making absolutely no attempt to cover my groin. Why would I when she’s eyeing it like a slice of birthday cake she can’t wait to devour.
It’s as if the lights truly click on in her gorgeous head, and unfortunately, she starts to retreat. Quickly. “I’m so sorry,” she parrots, walking backward until she runs into the doorframe. “Ouch. I’ll just…go. To the other bathroom. Start there. Clean. Without you being…naked.”
I can’t help but smile. She’s fucking adorable as she stammers and sputters, trying to get away, yet snatching little glimpses of me before she goes. “Sounds good, Lenora. I’ll only be a few more minutes, and then this bathroom is all yours.”
She nods and is gone a moment later, leaving behind quite the first impression and me with a growing erection I’ll have to deal with later. But right now isn’t the time. Right now, I need to get dressed, and even though I should be heading home for the night, I might just hang around. Find something to do in my office. Steal a few more moments with one Lenora Abbott.
I already know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help myself.
I want more.
Chapter 2
Leni
I practically fly into my sister’s bookstore, One More Chapter, desperately needing to talk, only to be brought up short when I see two older ladies browsing the murder mystery section.
“Hey,” Laken greets, offering us a grin. “Uh oh, what’s the matter?” she asks, clearly noticing the look of panic on my face.
I offer her a fake smile and look down at my five-year-old son, Trace. “Why don’t you go look at the books.”
My mini-me glances at his aunt. “Will you read to me?”
As if anticipating the question, she’s already nodding. “Of course I will. Go pick something out and I’ll be over to the reading nook in just a few minutes.”
“Yay!” he hollers, releasing my hand and practically sprinting toward the children’s book section.
“No running!” I whisper-yell, hoping to not disturb the two shoppers quietly discussing the books in their hands.
“What’s wrong?” my sister asks quietly as soon as I approach the counter.
Leaning over, I state, “I think I’m about to be fired.”
“What? From which job?” she asks, her hazel eyes wide with shock.
I take in my little sister’s appearance. Besides having the same eye color, that’s about the only similarities we share. While her hair is a gorgeous shade of red, mine is brown and flat. She has the body of a runner, lean and gorgeous, and standing a solid three inches taller than me. I have the hips and butt that makes buying pants more difficult because the sizes that fit my ass are like five inches too long.
And let’s not discuss my boobs. They practically need their own zip codes. While they might be the first thing guys notice, resulting in a lot of inappropriate leering, they’re nothing but an inconvenience to me. The moment I got pregnant with Trace, they got bigger and never went down, even after I was through breastfeeding. Now, I wear a lot of sports bras, just to try to keep them contained and not appear as big as they are.
I sigh, resting my elbows on the counter. “The City Hall one.”
“No,” she whines. “You just got that one. What happened?”
I close my eyes, instantly replaying the images I’ve been unable to forget from last night. When I open them she’s staring, waiting on me to explain. “I, uh, might have walked into the bathroom and seen the mayor naked.”
Her eyes practically pop out of her head, and if I weren’t a nanosecond away from freaking out, I’d find it comical. “Shut. Up. Really? How? When? How?”
“Ugh,” I groan loudly, covering my eyes. Of course, the very vivid details of seeing Malcolm Wright standing there in the buff won’t subside. They’ve plagued me since I left the very bathroom I found him standing naked in.
Laken comes around the counter and drags me behind it. “Spill.”
“I was cleaning after their meeting, and thought I was alone, like the last few weeks. There were some lights on, but that’s happened before. I thought someone just forgot to shut them off. I went into his office and decided to start in the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, but I didn’t hear anything, so I went inside.”
I blink, replaying the ultimate humiliation. “He was just getting out of the shower, Lake. He was…naked. And wet,” I add with a whisper.
My sister is grinning from ear to ear. “Was it…on display?” she mutters, making sure no one else can hear.
I nod. “Very largely displayed. Like your storefront window during Dr. Suess’s birthday celebration.”
She giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you saw Malcolm naked!”
I groan and glance over to where my son continues to look for the perfect book. “Can we stop talking about it
now? I just got that job, and now I’m definitely getting fired.”
“Why?”
“Because I just burst into the bathroom without knocking. Lake, I was completely unprofessional too. I mean, I covered my eyes, but…I didn’t exactly leave right away.”
My traitorous sister covers her mouth to try to hide her laughter. “So, you snuck a few peeks?”
“A lot of peeks. And I’m pretty sure he knew it too.”
Now she’s fully bent over, laughing so hard, she struggles to catch her breath. “So, let me get this straight. You were busted ogling the mayor in his private bathroom, while he was completely naked, and you were supposed to be cleaning?”
I nod, squeezing my eyes closed to avoid her gaze.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re fine, Len. Everyone ogles that man, and besides, you’re probably one of the only women in the county who hasn’t seen him naked,” she replies with a shrug.
Now, my own eyes widen. “Wait. You’ve…”
She waves off my suggestion. “No, not me. I was being sarcastic. That man gets around. A lot.”
So I’ve heard. It’s hard to go anywhere without overhearing someone talking about the sexy mayor. He’s the youngest person to ever hold that position in Mason Creek, and even though he’s a bit of a playboy, he won the election by a landslide. It may have something to do with the fact his father and grandfather both held the position over the years, and everyone seems to like the Wright family.
