You Are My Reason (You Are Mine Book 1)

by Willow Winters

  My shoulders are tense as I slip off my jacket and lead her to the front of the car, where we’ll be blocked from view. Her heels click and her eyes flicker with a knowing want. Although her steps are hesitant, she follows my lead, looking over her shoulder and no doubt wondering what exactly I have planned for her.

  “Mason?” The hesitation in her voice comes out as a gasp as her lush ass presses against the car.

  My only answer is to grip her hips and back her up to the hood of my car, pinning her down and crushing my lips against hers. Her hands fly to my chest pushing me away at first, caught off guard by the sudden change of plans. But then they travel up my neck ever so slowly, giving in to me and then move to the back of my head, pulling me in for more.

  That’s a good girl. My good girl. The woman who needs me and I damn well need to show her I need her too.

  I break our heated kiss to breathe, her chest touching mine as I look down at her. “Be good for me and be quiet.” I murmur the command and she can only nod in response, her warm breath trailing down my neck.

  I crush my lips to hers again and she moans into my mouth, but before she can deepen it, I fist her hair in my hands. Pulling her away, I grab her hip and flip her over so her breasts are pressed against the metal.

  “Stick your ass out for me,” I command her in a rough voice as I palm my dick through my pants and look around the pillar. There’s no one in sight and I fucking need her tight pussy cumming on my dick.

  Her lust-filled whimpers encourage me as I pull her head back by her hair and kiss her neck. She rocks her hips and that small space between her thighs brushes against my dick. Teasing me.

  I’m quick to unzip my pants, my pulse racing from the very thought that someone could see us or hear us. I finally let her go to stroke myself once and wait for her reaction now that she’s fully aware of what I plan to do. She lets out a gasp, bracing herself and looking over her slender shoulder at me with those gorgeous blue eyes so full of lust … and trust.

  Slipping her lacy panties to the side, I kiss her neck once more before shoving myself deep inside her tight cunt. Fuck. She feels too good. With my eyes closed, I give her a moment to adjust. Only for a moment. This has to be quick, no time for playing.

  Her back arches and her fingers scrape along the car, but she doesn’t scream out. Nothing leaves her lips but a small gasp as her mouth forms a perfect O. Her pussy spasms and feels like heaven as I hold in a groan and place my hand on the small of her back, pressing her down and keeping her in place.

  Her eyes are closed tight and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. I rock out slightly and push back in, forcing the sweetest sound from those beautiful bloodred lips. A moan of pleasure.

  I grip her chin in my hand and force her to look at me. I want her to watch me. I want her eyes on mine as I take her just how she needs.

  Her eyes slowly open as she lets out a breath and that’s when I slam into her again. She bucks forward, a small cry uttering from her lips and I wait again for her to look back at me.

  “You need to watch me, sweetheart,” I say with an even voice even though it’s really a demand.

  I’ll show her who she belongs to and how good I’ll be to her. But she has to watch me, she needs to see it all and know this is exactly what she wanted. That she wanted me.

  She rests her cheek against the car and keeps her eyes on me as I thrust into her again and again, pulling all the way out and then slamming all the way back in. It’s difficult to keep the groans low but I do, and she does what she’s told, staying quiet and watching me as I fuck her like she deserves to be fucked.

  The sound of tires squealing above us makes her squirm beneath me, but I hush her and lower myself closer to her. Leaning down, I push my chest against her back and kiss her gently on the lips. “They won’t see.” My hand slips between us and lifts up the front of her dress, lightly running along her clit.

  I play with her, teasing and rubbing while watching her writhe under me. “Look at me,” I command her and she’s quick to turn her eyes to me. They reflect nothing but torturous pleasure and the need to cry out her release. She’s gorgeous and I could make this easy for her. I really could. I could fuck her quickly and take her over the edge so she doesn’t have to fight the urge for long. I could let her close her eyes and look away.

  But I’m not interested in that.

  Jules is going to see. I won’t let her think this is all pretend and something that it’s not.

  I’m going to give her everything she needs. I’m going to make it all right again and she’s going to love me for it. I couldn’t care less if that makes me a prick.

  It doesn’t matter how it’s going to end, just that it happens this way. Right here and right now.

  “Mason.” She whispers my name as her release takes her gently, her soft folds taking me deeper into her. I have to wait for her to stop trembling, a cold sweat breaking out along my skin before moving my fingers to her lips. I wish she were naked so I could see every inch of her. So I could see the flush that’s creeping up her chest.

  “Turn around.” I give her the simple command and she obeys, her chest rising and falling unsteadily and her legs still trembling slightly.

  “This is going to be quick,” I tell her and then grab her hips in both my hands and angle her how I want her. I glance up to make sure she’s still watching and just like the good girl she is, those gorgeous pale blue eyes are on me. I piston my hips, surprising her as she braces her limp body against the car. The intensity of the raw fuck makes her bottom lip drop with a silent scream as her body tightens. I fist her hair again and pull her head back.

  “Mason.” My name is a twisted word of desperation on her lips.

  “Cum for me,” I tell her, moving my other hand to her clit again to strum her swollen nub.

  She screams out for the first time and I’m quick to bite her neck. Hard. It’s a punishment for not obeying me and it only makes her struggle against me harder. And only makes her impending release that much more intense.

  I fucking love it. I love what I do to her and how much pleasure it gives her. How she makes me forget everything when we’re together like this.

  Her body goes rigid and her pussy tightens around my cock. She struggles to breathe and her head falls back as she looks at the cement ceiling, her climax threatening to crash through her.

  I nip her chin and move the hand that was gripping her hair to her face. I stare into her eyes as her body shudders and her neck arches, her hair draping over my shoulder. Her face is the epitome of sinful ecstasy. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Fuck,” I groan as she finds her release. It only takes four more thrusts, riding through her orgasm and taking her that much higher until I find my own release. My balls draw up and my spine tingles. I bury my head in her neck as my cock pulses deep inside of her.

  The sounds of our heavy breathing surround us for a long moment.

  I kiss the side of her neck right where she’s marked from my bite, running my nose along her soft skin and breathing in her scent. Her legs are still shaking and a shudder runs down her body as I pull my lips away from her. She’s perfectly sated, just as she should be.

  “You’re mine, Jules,” I murmur but make sure it’s loud enough for her to hear and watch for her reaction. Her long lashes flutter as she opens her eyes and looks back at me. I pull her panties back into place and fix her dress.

  “Mason,” she says, whispering my name as her forehead creases and her eyes beg me to take it back.

  “No, you want me and I want you. You’re mine.”

  She bites down on her bottom lip and says, “I’m not okay.” Her voice hitches and her words crack. She closes her eyes and speaks as if it truly pains her to say the words. “I don’t know if I can be good for you.”

  I rest my forehead against hers and ask her, “Why are you so afraid?”

  “I don’t think this can just be sex for me,” she says. I cup her jaw in my
hand and brush my thumb across her cheek. “I think I’m going to want more. I think I already—” she stops as her voice cracks again.

  My body feels unbearably tense, each breath hurting my chest. Why am I doing this to her? Why can’t I just let her go? Because I’m a selfish prick and I can’t help myself. “I can give you more,” I whisper in the air between us, knowing it’s what she wants to hear. “We can see how it works between us in private, and keep things quiet in public?”

  I’m giving her exactly what she wants, just to keep her.

  I’m an asshole for doing it, knowing I can never be what she really needs and wants.

  Her eyes light up and that soft smile reappears on her face. She brightens with hope and my shy girl comes back to me. “Are you sure?” she says, still panting, barely recovered from what I’ve already done to her. “You aren’t going to break my heart?”

  She has no idea that she should be running from me. I’m well aware that I should turn her away regardless. Instead I smile down at her and kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m sure,” I tell her and hate myself that much more.

  Julia

  There’s no rhyme or reason for when the memories come back. There’s nothing I can pinpoint that triggers it. Nothing that I can blame.

  Lying in Mason’s arms, naked and warm, the two of us each working on our laptops in comfortable silence, there’s not a damn reason that I should be thinking of Jace, but I am.

  I don’t want to. Even as I scoot my back close to the sofa, I try to rid myself of the images of him smiling at me. When I’d wake up in the morning, Jace would push the hair from my face and give me a quick kiss. Always on the lips, no matter how much I tried to dodge them. He thought it was cute how I didn’t want him to smell my morning breath.

  Moments like that, moments we shared together that were easy and fun, where we fit beautifully together, those hurt the most when I remember. I let out an uneasy sigh and try to relax, ignoring Mason’s eyes on me.

  You’d think I’d be happy that I had that at one point in time. That I had a man who loved me and whom I loved too. It’s easy to say: I’ll be glad because it happened and not sad because it’s over. But the truth is I can’t say that, because I don’t mean it.

  “What’s wrong?” Mason’s deep voice cutting through the silent evening makes me feel even worse. I’m trying to move on, but it’s not that easy.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and pull the dark gray throw over my legs and up to my shoulders. “Just having a moment,” I answer honestly, although I can’t look him in the eye. I hope he’ll just let it go.

  His warm breath surrounds me as he pulls me closer to him and kisses my hair. I don’t expect the gentle touch from him. He whispers, “I get it.”

  He splays his hand on my hip and runs his thumb back and forth over my bare skin. I wait for more, but he doesn’t say anything else. Only that he gets it and my treacherous heart thumps in recognition.

  My laptop jostles across my legs as I try to get closer to him, loving the warmth, needing more of it. I wonder if it’s wrong to be upset over the passing of your husband while in the arms of your lover.

  “Sometimes—” Mason starts to speak just as my eyes glaze over and the words on the screen start to blur. I take in a steadying breath and stop that shit. Crying never helped me. It doesn’t do any good at all.

  Mason clears his throat while I wipe under my eyes.

  “When my mom died, sometimes it was the oddest things that set me off.” I’m surprised by Mason’s confession and grateful to be talking about him and not me.

  “I’m sorry about your mom.” My condolence is softly spoken; my voice a bit scratchier than I’d like. I stare up into his eyes which appear so much lighter than usual, maybe because it’s dark all around us. Only the glow of our laptops and the city lights beyond the large living room window to paint the room in a soft glow.

  He tilts his head to the side, tucking my hair behind my ear and I push my cheek into his palm. He has such large hands, rough but warm. They’re the perfect size for this.

  A coarse hum comes from deep in his chest. It’s short, but a sound of approval.

  “It’s okay to hurt still.” His words are comforting. “It’s okay to cry and let it out, even if you’re already spent.”

  My heart beats harder and my breathing becomes more difficult with every passing second that I absorb his statement. I search his eyes for something and he must see the panic in mine.

  “Or we can do something else?” he says.

  “Like what?” I ask him.

  He clicks his tongue, his gaze on my face, but not my eyes. Finally, he takes his hand away and types something into the search bar on his computer.

  He pulls up a book of poetry. Robert Frost.

  I eye him curiously and he pets my hair before pulling my head closer to rest on his shoulder. I get comfortable as he says, “I can read to you?”

  My heart hurts so much in this moment. Not the pain of what I’ve lost, but the pain that I have something so beautiful and something I’m so grateful for, and yet I still have these moments.

  I nod against his shoulder and say, “Please.”

  I could listen to his deep, rugged voice read poetry to me in the dark for hours.

  I could rest in his warm embrace for days.

  I could stay here with this man forever.

  Mason

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this much more. Two weeks have passed and it’s all become more and more normal. More and more it feels like I’ve finally won her over.

  I watch Jules as she licks ice cream from her spoon, her tongue flat against the bottom and mindlessly watches the news. Her notepad is in her lap with the pen on top although she was writing when I walked in here. It’s 4:00 a.m. and she can’t sleep.

  My mother used to feed me ice cream every night before bed. I had to be in my room and under the sheets as soon as I was finished, but I got ice cream every night. She made sure to keep a variety of flavors on hand; I wanted something different every night. Mom always ate strawberry, though. It was her favorite.

  Jules glances over at me, a flirtatious look in her eyes. “Do you want some?” she asks, maneuvering her body in catlike motions to crawl over to me.

  Even though I shake my head, there’s a small smile on my lips as I wrap my arm around her and place my hand on her thigh to scoot her closer to me.

  She moans softly as she scoops up a bit of cherry ice cream from the bowl. That move has to be intentional but her gaze stays on the television as if it’s not. Maneuvering on the sofa, I readjust myself in my pajama pants.

  She peeks at me, blushing and then brushes her arm against my bare chest.

  “You’re sweet to get me this,” she says with that look in her eyes. The look that tells me I’ve made her happier than she thought I would be. “Thank you,” she adds and plants a small kiss on my shoulder.

  Staying up to distract her wasn’t my intention when I came out here, but I don’t mind. Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep either. I felt the absence of her warmth the moment she got up. For such a graceful woman, she’s not very quiet getting out of bed.

  I gave her a few minutes to see what she would do, peeking in the doorway to the living room as she got lost in her words. Watching as she sat cross-legged on the sofa, leaning over her notepad and scribbling like mad. It wasn’t until she started to cry that I came into the room. I thought she needed me; I thought it was about him.

  But she said they were happy tears, like the kind you cry when you’ve gotten closure. I don’t know why that hurts me more.

  “No problem, I wanted to get out anyway.”

  “Did you go for a run?” she asks me, eating the last of the ice cream and facing me. I shake my head no. I don’t have time for that right now. Usually she’s in bed when I run early in the morning and then shower before she’s gotten up. It’s been a week of her staying at my place and that being the routine.r />
  “My fault?” she asks and scrunches her nose, not liking that she’s thrown off my schedule.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I tell her. It truly doesn’t. “I’ll make it up later tonight.”

  She hums a small sound and then adjusts on the sofa. “Will you come by my place tonight? Instead of here?”

  I answer easily, not thinking twice, “Of course. I may be late; I have a lot of things to wrap up at the office.”

  She straddles me then, a leg on either side of my hips until she settles into my lap. I let my hands rest on her ass as she drops the empty bowl and spoon beside us on the sofa, the spoon clinking as she shoves them farther away.

  “Mr. Thatcher,” she says as she wraps her arms around my neck and squares her shoulders. “You’re going to be late. I need you to stay at the office … and help me …” Her long lashes flutter as she bites down on her lip and continues, “… to file the paperwork.”

  An asymmetric grin finds its way to my lips as she laughs at her own attempt to be a sultry secretary. I can tell she’s holding it in, not taking it too seriously at all. Her straddling me though, that has nothing to do with role play.

  Glancing at the clock behind her, I note that I have another hour at least before I need to get going. “I think you may be mistaken, sweetheart,” I tell her.

  She rocks herself against me and gives me a smoldering look. It’s one I don’t get often, one full of confidence and determination. But damn, when she does give it to me, it drives me wild. If anything, this woman knows what she wants and with the tension gone between us, she wants me.

  “You need your exercise, Mr. Thatcher.” She drops her voice low and slides the straps to her silk nightgown off her creamy shoulders, exposing her breasts. They’re small but fit perfectly in my hand.

  With a groan and another rock of her hips, my dick stirs in my pants and I sit back on the sofa, thrusting my hips once and making her gasp as she reaches out to steady herself by clinging to me.