by Whitley Cox
“Don’t hide,” he whispered, his finger coming up beneath her chin, forcing her to lift her head. “Be strong.”
She clenched her teeth tight and nodded, watching as his eyes shuttered and his expression grew blank before he slowly pivoted his head to face Lowenna’s sister. “Is she barren? Huh. Because what I know, the Lowenna that I know, is a warrior who fought and vanquished cancer. But what warrior doesn’t arrive home from battle without scars? Without losing a piece of themselves in the process?” His gaze narrowed on her sister. “She’s not barren. She’s alive, she’s thriving, and if she wants to be a mother one day, she will be, and she will excel at it. Willow fucking loves her.”
“Still can’t carry a child though. Can’t have a baby of her own,” Doneen countered, not backing down, her back straight, her eyes mere slivers of pure judgement that stared right into him.
Mason lifted his scotch and drained it. “I can’t carry a child either. Doesn’t make me any less of a parent.”
Lowenna could have kissed him, torn off his clothes and ravished him right on the table. He said all the right things. Who cared that they were all for show? At that moment, she believed every word that came out of his mouth—including the thing about the cheesecake and her belly button.
Doneen rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but Mason cut her off. “This topic of conversation is over. Yes, I know Lowenna can no longer carry a child. Yes, I know that she had cancer. But none of that changes how I feel about her or the fact that I want to have a future with her and raise a family. My surrogate has already agreed to another pregnancy if I want another child.” He glanced down at Lowenna, reached for her hand and brought the back of it to his mouth. She simply stared at him in awe. “You’ve got frozen eggs too, right, baby? We can have our own little miracle when we’re ready.”
Gasps around the table echoed, and Lowenna fought the urge to move her eyes from Mason’s handsome face to her sister or Brody. Nobody knew that she’d frozen her eggs—nobody. And she hadn’t been sure she wanted anybody to know. But what she did know was that the way Mason was speaking, defending her and looking at her made her want the whole world to suddenly know she had eggs frozen and that she was going to be a mother to her own children one day—and an amazing mother to boot.
Mason’s presence, his touch and support helped her find a confidence and strength inside herself that she didn’t know she had. Made her see herself in a light that she thought had long been snuffed out.
“You froze your eggs?” her mother asked, her voice breathy.
Lowenna finally removed her gaze from Mason’s face—albeit reluctantly—and faced her mother. “I did, yes.”
Brody made a dismissive noise. “I would have remembered that.”
Lowenna went to speak, but Mason got there first, his ire for Doneen and Brody a tangible entity she needed to keep caged. “Would you have, man?” He still held Lowenna’s hand, his grip tightening.
He needed to rein in that anger. She had no intention of letting anybody at that table know she knew that Brody and Doneen were sleeping together while she was battling cancer and they were still married. That was for tomorrow, and she couldn’t let him ruin her grand reveal.
She tugged on his hand until he faced her. His tight jaw relaxed and his eyes softened.
“I kept it a secret from everyone, babe,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if they were going to find any viable eggs, so I didn’t want to get anybody’s hopes up.”
She was deliberately avoiding looking at Brody or Doneen, but she managed to see their reactions out of the corner of her eye, and it was pretty epic. Both of them were wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
“How’d you pay for that?” Brody asked, shaking his dumb bobblehead.
Mason didn’t bother turning his head. “Doesn’t matter, man. Not your problem.” He pushed his plate away, pulled his hand from Lowenna’s and stood up. “Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Then without telling anyone where he was headed or even glancing at Lowenna, he left the party room.
All eyes fell on Lowenna. She swallowed hard, digging down deep for the strength she knew she still possessed but that Mason so easily helped her uncover. She didn’t need him, but she sure as heck liked having him around.
“Real prize you’ve brought to dinner,” Doneen said blandly, poking at a cherry tomato on her plate with a fork and nibbling on it like a hamster.
“I dunno,” Lowenna’s father said. “I like him. Seems real down-to-earth, genuine, kind.” He smiled at Lowenna. “And he seems to make you happy, sweetheart.”
Lowenna’s heart swelled in her chest, and she smiled at her father, a very gentle and docile man by nature. “Thanks, Dad. He makes me very happy.”
“I still want to know how you were able to afford freezing your eggs,” Brody piped up. “We were struggling to keep up with your medical bills, and we never discussed freezing your eggs. Why didn’t you tell me?”
What, was he having a change of heart all of a sudden? Now that Lowenna had the ability to have children of her own, he was suddenly seeing her in a more motherly light? He’d been the one to call their whole marriage quits because he wanted to have a family the traditional way. Or had that just been an excuse to end things so he could take his affair with her sister public?
Mason returned but didn’t sit down. Instead he placed both of his hands on Lowenna’s shoulders and squeezed. “We’re leaving, babe. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. They’re boxing up our dessert.”
She craned her neck around to stare at him, her eyes taking a moment to adjust and un-blur themselves from the quick movement. That wine was hitting her hard. “We’re leaving?”
He nodded and pulled her chair out for her. “Yep. Need to get you home and into bed.” His low voice rumbling and the way he said bed made everything inside her tighten. Her nipples throbbed, her core clenched and her toes curled for probably the umpteenth time that night. He began to massage the base of her neck with his thumbs, and without even realizing it, she’d shut her eyes.
“Well, it was so nice to meet you,” Lowenna’s mother said, “and we look forward to getting to know you even more tomorrow. The wedding is sure to be a wonderful occasion.”
Oh, it was going to be an occasion all right. He released her neck and shoulders and made to help her rise from her seat. He never stopped touching her. Whether it be holding her elbow, her hand or her neck, his hands were always on her. And she was grateful for it, because once she stood, the wine hit her like a freight train and she swayed.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” her mother said, standing up from her seat. Both of Lowenna’s parents were soft-spoken, shy people. Since as long as she could remember, they’d allowed Doneen to bully them—and Lowenna. Which explained why they hadn’t stood up for Lowenna at all over dinner. But Mason had.
Mason had been her hero.
Lowenna’s mother embraced her, and then her dad, though through it all, Mason still never let go of her.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him. He turned them so they faced the long table of dinner companions. “So nice to meet everyone. I look forward to cutting a rug on the dance floor with you all tomorrow night.” Then he pecked Lowenna on the side of the head. He was doing that a lot. “But now I’ve got to get this gorgeous creature to bed.”
It wasn’t until they reached the elevator that Lowenna released the breath she’d been holding. Her brain was mush, her heart confused, her legs a bit noodly, but boy, was she happy.
She hadn’t been that happy in a long, long time.
The look on her sister’s face and Brody’s face too. She should have hired a photographer to capture the moment so she could put their reactions on her fridge.
Mason hit the button for the elevator, his arm still wrapped around her tight.
“That was a fun night,” he said, staring straight ahead. “You weren’t kidding about those two. Wow! Liam and Atlas debriefed me on him, but her …
” He blew out a whistle. “She’s a real piece of work.” He held a small bag in his free hand that housed the two boxes of the amaretto pistachio cheesecake they’d ordered. Her mouth flooded with moisture at the thought of the dessert.
And then her core warmed when she thought of him eating it out of her belly button. She knew it was said in jest, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t stuck in her head since he mentioned it. The elevator door slid open, and with slight pressure at her back, he encouraged her to step inside.
Nobody else went in with them, but the moment the door closed, the small space was stifling. She became acutely aware of how close they were, the heat of his palm on her hip, the scent of him and way he made her feel like she’d not just had a few glasses of wine but a few bottles.
“What’s this?” He bent down, unwilling to release his arm around her and instead juggling the dessert bag among his fingers, to pick up what looked like a room key card off the elevator floor.
“Looks like a key card,” she whispered.
“Hmm, it does.”
He handed it to her, and she turned it around in her hand.
The number 503 was clear as day in gold lettering on one side, while the hotel name was inscribed on the other. It was no ordinary key card, because this was no ordinary hotel.
Lowenna swallowed. “Someone must have dropped it.”
A deep groan filled her ear. “Someone must have.”
Her gaze flicked up to the lit floor numbers above their heads. They were currently on the twelfth floor.
Was this a sign?
They’d pretty much been handed a room key. Were they meant to go use it? At least check it out? Raid the minibar.
Wouldn’t it be poetic if that key card somehow belonged to her sister and Brody and they went and raided the minibar? Racked up a couple hundred dollars’ worth on their bill.
She knew that her sister and Brody were staying here in a normal suite tonight and then the honeymoon suite tomorrow night.
She bounced on her toes with glee as the most diabolical plan for tomorrow began to take shape in her mind.
Mason glanced down at her and grinned.
She grinned right back, so hard and so wide, her cheeks hurt.
She was happy, giddy in fact with how well the night had gone, that she wanted to continue to ride her high for as long as she could. And by ride her high, she meant ride Mason.
All his talk about getting her to bed had made her thoughts leap headfirst into the gutter, and they’d stayed there ever since.
She glanced again at the lit floor numbers overhead.
Floor nine.
Floor eight.
Floor seven.
It was now or never.
She twitched and was about to hit the button for number five when the car settled to a stop.
On. The. Fifth. Floor.
The doors slid open to reveal a man and woman roughly the same age as Mason and Lowenna sucking face as if they were both desperate for the other’s air. His hand was on her butt, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, and there wasn’t an inch of air or space between them.
Mason had to clear his throat twice before the couple untangled themselves, stepping onto the elevator all glassy-eyed and puffy-lipped.
“Sorry,” the man said. “Just can’t keep my hands off this woman.”
His companion giggled.
Mason glanced down at Lowenna and she up at him.
The door began to close, but before it did completely, they both lunged forward at the same time and stopped it with their free hands.
After that it was all a bit of a beautiful, wine-infused blur.
They raced down the hall, laughing until they located suite 503, and then with eyes locked and a racing heart, she slid the key card through the panel and held her breath.
The light flashed green, and a click on the other side told them it was unlocked.
Mason reached forward and took the card from her, his hand engulfing hers and stilling the slight tremble that had sprinted up from her toes and into her fingers.
He turned the latch on the door and held it open for her.
It was dark and quiet inside.
She stepped over the threshold and flicked on the light, the sound of the door clicking behind them making her jump.
Timidly, she turned the corner into the suite.
It was empty. It was clean. By the looks of the swan-shaped towels on the bed, housekeeping had just been in. Perhaps it was they who had dropped the key card. Either way, they suddenly found themselves in a room.
With a bed. A big bed.
And he had said to everyone at the table—several times—that he wanted, no, needed to get her to bed.
She stared at the enormous king-size bed and its plush comforter and down pillows, but she didn’t feel a lick of tired. She felt anything but.
She was energized and excited, happy, drunk and gloriously confused.
His hands on her shoulders was only one way she knew that he was behind her. But even if he had refrained from touching her, she would have known he was near. His warmth and overwhelming presence made the hair on the back of her neck and arms tingle and stand up.
“You are a warrior, Lowenna,” he whispered, his mouth right next to her ear. His lips fell to that extra-sensitive spot just below her ear. She tilted her neck to the side to give him better access. “You are a gorgeous, warrior princess with a heart of gold and a rocking ass.” He moved his hands from her shoulders down her back and squeezed said ass, making her laugh. “And amazing fucking tits.”
Still laughing, she spun around in his arms and looped her arms over his shoulders, clasping them behind his neck. “Thank you for tonight. I’m so glad I didn’t have to go it alone.”
His grin stole every last molecule of oxygen clean from her lungs. “They’re really going to shit themselves when they find out I paid for the entire table.”
She took a step back and released her hands from around his neck, but his fingers tightened in the flesh of her ass and he wouldn’t let her flee.
“You did what?”
“Figured it would really stick in ol’ Brody’s craw that I footed the bill for the whole table.. You know, me being a lowly bartender and all and you slumming it with me.”
“Holy shit, but there were like sixteen people there. That bill is going to be … ” She tried to do a bit of math in her head, but it was too full of wine to do anything more complex than her six times tables.
“It’ll be pricey, probably.” He shrugged. “But whatever.”
“Did you find out who was going to pay the bill?”
He nodded. “Brody’s parents.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t pay for everyone’s meals. But she was paying Mason. It didn’t make sense. She suddenly began to feel ill.
“I … I think I need to sit down.”
He released her butt and guided her down to the bed, shoving the swans out of the way. Once she was sitting, he sprang back up, raided the minibar for a bottle of water and opened the cap before he handed it to her.
She thanked him and took a big sip.
“I can’t afford everyone’s meals,” she said, wiping the back of her wrist over her mouth. “I can’t pay you back for—”
But she wasn’t allowed to finish that statement before his lips crashed against hers.
“Don’t mention money again to me, got it?” he said against her mouth. “I hate it when you bring up the fact that I’m your date for hire.” Without breaking the kiss, he took the water bottle from her and set it on the nightstand, then he eased them both back on the bed, one hand cupping her face, the other one threading his fingers through hers.
He’d never mentioned before that he hated being her hired boyfriend. Why hadn’t he told her? Why was he still going along with it all if he hated it?
But his tongue massaging hers and his exploratory hands quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind, and her hands did their own bit of meanderin
g and exploring.
She slid his suit jacket over and off his broad shoulders, then loosened his tie. Deftly, because she was now focused on what she wanted, on what she needed. She opened up a few of the buttons on his shirt, then pushed her hand inside, feeling his warm, smooth skin beneath her fingers. He was smooth, but damn, was he ever hard.
She found what she’d been searching for and tugged gently on the nipple barbell.
A groan filled her mouth at the same time his fingers pushed the hem of her dress up and skimmed along her inner thigh, tickling and chasing the shiver that raced up from her toes. They nudged aside her damp panties.
She pulled again on his nipple, and he spread her swollen lips and pressed against her clit with his thumb. Her hips leaped off the mattress.
They still hadn’t stopped kissing, and as she knew from the night they first met, the man could sure as hell kiss.
He rocked against her, and she could feel the iron-hard length of him on her thigh. She wanted to feel that length of him in her hand, in her mouth, inside her. She wanted all of Mason and not just once.
He broke the kiss, and the tip of his tongue laved at her bottom lip before he tugged on it between his teeth, drawing a whimper from the back of her throat. He’d gone and shaved—unfortunately, but his whiskers were coming back, and they were rough and wonderful against her cheek. His warm, wet kisses peppered her jaw before he nipped at her earlobe and that tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. The warmth of his breath drifted over, causing a shiver to take hold of her body and all the hairs on her arms to prickle. He tucked his mouth into her neck, and his tongue did figure eights over the hollow of her throat, no doubt feeling her thundering pulse.
Lowenna shoved her fingers into his hair and tugged on the ends, gently nudging his head down.
His chuckle was deep and dark. “So bossy.”
She threw her head back against the bed and exhaled, his lips traveled down her neck and chest until they reached the V of her dress. Her breasts swelled and ached at the thought of finally being touched. Her nipples pearled to painful points. With his free hand, he pulled the neck down and fished out a breast, swiping his tongue over the hard, crimson bud, making it peak even tighter, aching for more and making her dream of what that mouth might feel like lower down on her body, between her legs.
