Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4)

by Allyson Lindt

  “What? How the hell did we get from I want to know what I did wrong to Do you expect me to sleep with you?” Mason was ready to scream. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “You wanted to know why I’m upset. I’m trying to explain.” She sounded like she was talking to a child.

  How did she do this? She swung from fun and playful and friendly to judgmental and over reactionary like she was a pendulum on a string. She obviously thought she had a point, but he couldn’t for the life of him grasp it.

  Mason scrubbed his face and let a groan press through his fingers. “You’re getting upset with me for things I don’t understand. This may all be clear as day to you, but I’m sorry, it’s not for me. If it helps, consider that I may be a socially inept IT guy, and that my indoctrination is different than yours. I don’t see the world through your lens, but I’m trying to. If you’d help me understand, instead of getting pissed off at me because I barely know two-plus-two and you’re asking me to solve for the cosign of Y...”

  Ginny worked her jaw for a moment before saying, “I suck at math. I assume Y equals Purple.”

  He fought the smile that threatened to crack through. “It doesn’t. Not ever.”

  “And no one ever owes anyone an explanation for not dating them beyond I’m not interested.” Her voice softened. “I don’t say that to be pissy. I’d apply the same to you, if you dumped a girl, and she kept hounding you for an answer.”

  Dumped was a harsh word. His break-up with Trina was amicable. He fought back the wave of defensiveness. Mostly. “But...”

  “But what?” Ginny’s tone had shifted to cool and impassive. Was this how she would talk to her patients?

  “How do I know not to do it next time? Whatever it was?”

  Ginny frowned and pursed her lips.

  Oh come on. Really? “What did I do now?” he asked in exasperation.

  Her laugh was strained. “You didn’t do anything. I’m trying to keep in mind what you said. And that I shouldn’t make assumptions any more than you should. Here’s the thing about the why. It could be something specific to her. It could be nothing. But it’s not up to her to explain it to you. Instead, you find someone else—preferably not someone like your brother—to talk through things with, and help you sort out for yourself if you were true to you in the relationship.”

  And there was the dig at Jake again. That irritated Mason. “I should talk to someone like you, then? Because I’m still not sure I’m following.” Then again, he doubted he’d get better from someone else.

  “Fair point.”

  “Really?” He couldn’t hide his surprise.

  Her smile emerged this time, hesitant but reaching her eyes. It wasn’t joy-filled, but it was still enough to take the edge off. “Yes, really. I’ll try and be more reasonable. Why do you think Trina broke up with you?”

  He had a list of reasons, and something told him none of them would satisfy Ginny. “Because I was too nice? Because I didn’t make it clear what I wanted?”

  “In other words, you should have been more of an asshole? And would you change who you are, just to keep someone?”

  Yup. She was twisting his words again. “You haven’t met Spence. He’s all confidence and swagger.”

  “Confidence isn’t the same as arrogance. Being direct isn’t the same as being rude.” It was like she was speaking Klingon and he only knew Elvish.

  “You say that like it’s obvious. Again. But I don’t get it.”

  GINNY SAT CROSS-LEGGED on the hotel bed. The few feet between herself and Mason felt more like a chasm.

  “It’s the difference between thinking you deserve to get laid, and being confident you will.” She was trying to be calm about this. She didn’t want to fight with Mason. But she also didn’t want him to shift his perspective to make her happy and shut her up. She wanted him to get it.

  He rolled his eyes. “They sound like the same thing to me.”

  “And that’s the problem.” Every time she thought conversation with him might be all right, he proved her wrong. She hated to admit it, but his looks, and that nice guy attitude he seemed to hate, had something to do with her desire for thing to go smoothly just once. She usually thought the nice guy line was bullshit, but with him, he seemed to be a good person.

  Until he delved into things like this.

  You sure you don’t want him to change for you?

  Great. Now she was buying into his logic.

  She tried to be subtle about studying him. His dark hair that looked mussed regardless of what he did to it. The angel tattoo on his arm that drew attention to the solid muscle underneath. That gaze that might devour her thoughts...

  If he weren’t so fucking stubborn. Oh, and chasing most the way across the country to win back the heart of a woman who had clearly already made up her mind. Given she was marrying someone else.

  Not fair. He told you that wasn’t what he was doing.

  He clipped off a short growl and stared Ginny down. “Fine. You think self-assured his hot? You like the idea of some guy walking up to you and telling you I’ll pin you to the wall and eat your pussy until you scream my name, and then keep going until you can’t stand?”

  This time it was Ginny who rolled her eyes. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard bullshit like that.” It was pretty tame compared to what some of her customers had said to her.

  “And how many said it with so much conviction you had no doubt they believed it?” Mason asked.

  “Not as many as said it, but still a lot.” Except, she wanted Mason to say it. She shouldn’t, but fuck it sounded good coming out of his mouth. But she wanted him to mean it. To not be spewing words for shock value. The desire whispering inside despite her frustration—or maybe because of it—wanted him to say it because he was confident in the offer and comfortable with her.

  Unreasonable expectations much?

  “And how am I supposed to compete with that kind of confidence.” Irritation hung heavy in his voice.

  “You’re not. Don’t ever try and compete with that. This girl, Trina? She’s not marrying the other guy because she’s thinking Wow he told me he’s got a big dick and he’s got lots of money. I have a feeling you like your women smart.”

  Mason sat a little taller. “I do.”

  “Then I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she’s also observant. She’s marrying this guy because he makes the gears in her brain turn and her heart flutter and her pussy wet. Not because he told her would, but because he did.”

  “So I’m supposed to push her against the wall and fuck her? Pretty sure there’s this thing called consent.”

  Ginny was doing a poor job of getting her point across. “You’ve got a one-track mind. There’s more to attraction than fucking.”

  The glare Mason gave her was withering. “I realize that.”

  “Do you?” Okay, so she was toeing that line into bitchy, but he asked for her opinion and her help, and she wasn’t willing to back down until he understood at least a little of what she was saying. Or she was pushing him away because it was easier than fighting her attraction.

  “Pretend I’m your Trina. You’re seeing me for the first time in a year. You have two lines to make me pay attention. Be yourself.” Okay, this was stupid. What the fuck was she doing?

  “That didn’t do me any good last time I saw her.”

  “You weren’t yourself. You were the person you thought she wanted you to be.” Ginny might be wrong about that, but she had a feeling. One of these days, she was going to read a guy wrong and it would break her heart. That wasn’t today, because she wasn’t that kind of invested in Mason. She was helping him understand. This wasn’t using his affection in some sort of twisted role-play.

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “I don’t know how else to put it. Talk to me like I’m Trina. Not the woman you want to convince that she’s fated to be yours, but the person whose company you like. Talk to me like you don’t
care who else hears or what they think. Like you know the conversation will go your way.” The way I thought you were talking to me in the car, before this all fell apart.

  He didn’t look convinced. “Just like that.”

  “Yup. Whenever you’re ready.”

  He sighed, and his expression said he was anything but convinced this was a good idea. “Hey. How have you been?”

  “Good.” She smiled. Trina looked like the kind of girl who would smile politely when someone asked her a polite question.

  “You look it.”

  The compliment caught her off-guard. It was simple, direct, and there was something sweetly sincere about it. “Yeah?” Her smile shifted to genuine. “How about you? What have you been up to?” He’s not talking to you.

  “I’ve been working. Standard stuff.”

  “Same.” All right, sincere was falling a little flat. Try harder to be you didn’t seem helpful.

  “Did you ever get to check out the new Star Wars movie?” he asked.

  She wrinkled her nose, and judgment raced to the front of her thoughts. Given what most fanboys thought of the new films, this hardly seemed like a safe subject.

  Mason studied her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Depends on why you’re asking.” Be Trina, not yourself. She didn’t want to be Trina, damn it. Ginny wanted Mason to want to have this conversation with her.

  “Are we still role-playing?”

  Were they? She needed to keep her emotions out of this. To stop projecting desires on Mason that weren’t him. “Yes.”

  “I’m asking because I wondered what you thought of it.”

  She couldn’t read him. His blank-bordering-on-hopeful expression wasn’t what she expected. “Depends on what you thought of it.”

  “I shouldn’t say.” He shrugged. “Pretty sure I lose geek cred points for this, but I loved it.”

  “Yeah?” Her smile was back without her permission. The passion in his voice came easily. This was one of those moments she liked with him, where he dropped the pretenses.

  “You’re stunning when you smile.” His compliment caught her off-guard. “Actually smile. Not that pasted on look you adopt at work.”

  When was the last time a guy said that to her and didn’t expect her to take off her clothes in return? Was he talking to her, or still pretending she was Trina?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Is this where you hit me with a line about showing me your light saber?” She kept the question light, hoping to shift the mood of the conversation. Tell him you don’t want to do this anymore.

  He hesitated half a heartbeat longer than she expected. “Do you want me to? I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Pretty sure you lose double geek points for passing up an opportunity like that.”

  “I’m saving it. Don’t want to scare you off. Besides, bad lines come after you do.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “That was a pretty bad line.”

  “But you liked it.”

  Ginny’s breath caught at the shift in his gaze. Even though she’d been poking and prodding, she hadn’t expected him to slide into assured the way he did. “I did. Why didn’t you and Trina ever screw?”

  “What makes you think we didn’t?”

  “Instinct. Am I wrong?” She wanted to be wrong. She couldn’t ignore the chaos brimming inside, wanting her to be wrong about so much about him. Like that he was decent even once the top layers were stripped away. He was like everyone else, and she couldn’t afford to pretend otherwise.

  He shook his head and shifted so he was kneeling on all fours. He crawled toward her, stopping when his face was inches from Ginny’s. “I lied again.”

  Ginny’s stomach dropped. Of course he did. Nailed it. Why did she care? “About what?”

  “I’m not pretending you’re Trina. I don’t see her when I look at you. I see freckles and stunning green eyes and passion and intelligence and you.”

  Fucking asshole. He wasn’t supposed to be sincere. Why was Ginny’s pulse hammering in her ears? Why did she care Mason was close enough the faint traces of his body spray teased her? Why was her body betraying her, sending goosebumps racing over her skin and heat spreading underneath?

  He rested a finger under her chin. “I need you to know that, because I don’t want there to be any doubt that when I do this, it’s with you.”

  “Do wha—”

  He kissed her, cutting off her question. The sensation was so light she felt her anticipation as much as his touch, but there was no trace of hesitation. Her lips parted in surprise, and he nipped the bottom one before claiming her mouth.

  Mason slid a hand to the back of her neck, holding her captive. Each peck and nibble sent desire racing through her veins. It was as though he dined hungrily on kisses, but still took the time to savor each one.

  She didn’t understand how this first-base make-out session had her nipples hard and tender, and need pooling in her belly, but it did.

  He caught her lip between his teeth, before pulling away enough to look her in the eye. “I meant what I said before.” His voice was strained, and the intensity he watched her with stole her breath.

  “Which thing?”

  “I want to bury my head between your thighs and taste you.”

  Unlike his false bravado earlier, this made dampness grow between her legs. It was a physical response. Nothing more.

  So why couldn’t she find the words to respond? She needed something better to do with her tongue, so she crushed her mouth to his again.

  She needed to feel more. To touch him. And to be in control. She didn’t like this slipping sense of falling into the moment. She yanked his shirt over his head, then raked her nails down his back, pressing closer. Focusing on the physical.

  Mason moved one hand to her breast, kneading through fabric, and rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed down her jaw to her neck. When he sucked on the skin, and scraped his teeth over it, a moan slipped out without her permission.

  He fumbled with her zipper for a moment before undoing her jeans, and she helped him push them off, along with her panties.

  He glided his lips up the inside of her thighs, alternating feather-light kisses with demanding ones. She was pretty sure he was leaving a trail of faint marks along her skin. The idea made her squirm in anticipation.

  Mason reached her core, his hot breath caressing skin already slick with need, but he didn’t make contact. He kissed down the other leg.

  “Tease.” She meant the word to be playful, but it came out wispy and laden with want.

  “Savoring the moment.” His lips vibrated against her skin. He licked a path back up. When he glided his tongue over her slit, she gasped and arched her back, pressing into his face.

  Ginny knotted one hand in his hair, needing something to grip. He was back to sucking and licking—enough to make her wetter, but nothing near what she wanted to get off.

  She was torn between wanting to enjoy the game, and climax. The former meant admitting there was more to this than sex, and that terrified her.

  The slow build thrummed in her thoughts, making her lightheaded as he lavished her with attention. He plunged his tongue inside her, licking her inner walls. Her thoughts were jumbled. She was ready to beg for more. To point out the leisurely dining was nice, but it wasn’t the main course.

  Before she could prompt, he moved his fingers to her swollen button. The brush against her clit yanked her to the edge, and she groaned. He pressed harder, rubbing as her breathing grew to short pants, and she clenched around his tongue, then eased off.

  “No.” She forced the word out. “No more playing.”

  This time when he pressed in, stroking her, he didn’t let up. Her hips bucked in time with the attention, and the orgasm that had hesitated crashed over her in a wave that made her gasp and cry out.

  He eased up on his attention when she shuddered away from his touch. She pulled his head to hers, kissing him hard and tasting hersel
f on his lips. On his face.

  When she traced the outline in his jeans, teasing his cock, he jerked against her hand. She shouldn’t want more, but she did.

  “Condom?” she asked. A twisted part of her hoped he’d say no. She always carried protection, but if he wasn’t prepared, maybe she could summon enough irritation to climb out of this amazing sensation she was falling into.

  “Yes.” He pulled a foil package from his wallet.

  Relief she didn’t want to feel rushed over her. She wasn’t ready for the night to end, as much as her brain insisted she was reading too much into the moment. She wasn’t completely ready to surrender control, though.

  They stripped the rest of their clothes off in a tangle of urgency and limbs. She snagged the condom from him, nudged his shoulders so he lay on the bed, and straddled his legs, near the knees.

  Mason’s chuckle danced along her nerves, and she bit back a whimper. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she performed one of her favorite tricks—rolling the condom on his shaft with her mouth. He was bigger than she expected.

  She swirled her tongue around his length, bobbing at a slow but steady pace.

  When he pulled her head up and placed a finger under her chin, she was surprised.

  “I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” he said.

  “That’s why I don’t mind.”

  He shook his head. “I want to feel you. To slide inside you.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She climbed up his body until she hovered over his erection.

  He grabbed her hips and thrust up, driving inside her and spreading her out.

  What made him drop the act? The same thing that has you wanting more. She needed her brain to shut up.

  She tried to set a fast and frantic pace, to be the one in control, but he dug his fingers into her skin, keeping things slow. His grip should have been too much, but she reveled in the easy power of it.

  Mason glided his hands up her stomach to her breasts. The worship in his gaze and touch pushed the rest of her doubt to the back of her mind. She tumbled into the rhythmic push and pull. The thrust driving deep into her. The way his grunts mingled with her moans. The sheen of sweat on her skin, cooling in the air.