by Kate Benson
Still, something in my gut tells me I need a minute before I open the door.
I raise up onto my toes and look through the small opening, something deep inside me shifting when my eyes tell me what my heart already knew.
It’s him. And he’s waiting outside in the hallway in one of those ugly plaid shirts he always wears, his dark hair all disheveled like a younger, way hotter version of the Brawny man, minus the creeper ‘stache. He’s glancing down at his feet for a moment, distracted by a mystery, and I take the chance to look at him, distorted by the angle, but still just as frustratingly good-looking as any other day.
Today, though, something feels different.
Today, I see more than an enemy.
I see someone who cared enough to call me out on my loser behavior, even if it meant humiliating me in an aisle lined with plastic cocks I was buying for his sister.
“Are you going to open the door or just keep standing there like a psychopath?” he asks, his hazel eyes moving toward the peephole. I jump away from his line of sight, rolling my eyes when I realize how asinine the action is to begin with. He can’t see you, stupid. “I can hear you breathing. Open up.”
I clear my throat and will my cheeks to return to a normal shade in lightning speed before I finally reach for the handle and pull the door open a few inches. He glances up at me, smirk in place, before taking in the towel I’m holding tightly around my center and returns his gaze to mine.
“Nice outfit,” he winks. “I went downstairs to get some dinner and the restaurant is closed for an event or some shit, so I’m gonna go pick something up. You want to come?”
“Oh,” I reply, chewing on my lip in deliberation. I’m not sure why he’s asking – if he thinks it would be a date or he’s just trying to keep his sister from killing him – either way, I’m at a loss. “Well, I was just going to order something from room service.”
“Still can,” he shrugs. “I’m just trying to be nice. I know you’re kind of stuck.”
“Thanks,” I reply, managing a small smile. “I really appreciate it, but I’m sure you’d like some time alone.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs again. “You aren’t obligated to me just because we …” he trails off with a smirk, obviously teasing me about our talk in the car. “Just thought I’d offer.”
“Thanks,” I say again, taking in his nod.
“No problem,” he replies. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” I smile small, internally kicking myself when I hesitate to close the door as he begins to walk away. He’s halfway to the elevators when I clamp my eyes shut and bite my lip hard in annoyance at myself. “Mason?”
“Yeah?” he asks, turning slightly.
“Can you give me a hot five?”
His full lips turn up into a smile as he comes to a slow stop at the end of the hallway and I realize for the first time as his laughter trails down toward me, it doesn’t annoy me like it used to.
I don’t know how I feel about that.
“Yep,” he nods, pulling me from my thoughts. “If you let me inside so I don’t look like a stalker, I might even give you ten.”
“Deal,” I manage, doing all I can to toss away the nerves fluttering in my chest as I watch him walk into my room, his lips moving into a wide beam.
“I see you did some redecorating,” he chuckles, taking in the disarray.
“I did,” I nod, pushing the door shut and moving toward the bathroom. “Not sure where I got the idea from now.”
As his laughter trails in from the other room, I throw on the first thing I can find and quickly coat my skin with a light dust of powder, some mascara and gloss. My nerves are still swimming, for reasons I’m not sure I’ll ever understand, but I push them away once more and brush my hair out, shutting the light off on my way back into the room.
“Yeah, those kinds of things are hard to remember sometimes,” he replies with a shrug, and as he turns to face me, I can’t deny the chill that moves through me when his eyes move over my frame before coming back to mine. Chill out. This is just dinner. It doesn’t mean shit, I remind myself. “Whoever suggested it must’ve been a genius.”
“Maybe,” I shrug, grabbing my purse and heading back toward the door, holding it open for him. “But I’m pretty sure he was a stalker.”
chapter nineteen
alex
When we’re seated at a relatively quiet table toward the back of the restaurant, I’m silently relieved. While I can’t deny the shift I can feel happening between us, I can’t say I’m thrilled about the idea of having an audience for it, either.
It’s obvious that the feelings I’m having were never planned for, but what’s a little more complicated is knowing what the hell I’m supposed to do with them. Even if Mason hadn’t been someone I counted as an enemy three days ago, that has little bearings to do with my hesitance as we lower in our chairs across from each other. The truth is, as lonely as I get, as much as I say I’d love to find a nice guy and have something real, the thought of opening myself up to any of that ever again is more than just a little terrifying.
“Your server will be right over. Can I get you two something to drink while you wait?” the hostess asks, pulling me from my thoughts as I plaster on a small smile. “We have a few drink specials if-”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I cut her off, ignoring Mason’s low chuckle from the other side of the table as I give the menu a quick onceover and return my gaze to her. “I’d love a sweet tea.”
“And for you?”
“Sounds good,” Mason answers, his eyes still dancing in amusement as they hold mine.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, chuckling low to himself as he starts to look over the menu. “Have you been here before?”
“Yes, but it’s been a very long time,” I reply, finding my favorite item and settling in across from him. “Everything is good, though.”
“Cool,” he nods, settling across from me.
He holds my gaze easily for a moment, seemingly unbothered by the tension rolling off me in waves and as the hostess sets our drinks down on the edge of the table, I can’t help the low breath of relief that fills me. I thank her and reach for my tea, irritated at the nonsensical nerves rolling through my chest. When I replace my glass onto the table in front of me, he’s still staring at me and I can’t help the low sigh that leaves my chest.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs again. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?” I ask, fidgeting with the sugar packets in the small caddy, eager to distract myself.
“Have you always been a little awkward and I just never noticed or are you acting this way because I’ve been inside you?”
I choke on my tea at the same time I sense movement from my right.
“Hey, I’m Jake. I’ll be taking care of … Lex?” he trails off, and my heart begins to plummet. Oh, fuck me. “What are you doing h-?”
“Lex?” Mason cuts him off, pulling my eyes to his just in time to see him beginning to chuckle at my cringing expression. “Damn, baby. How many names you fuckin’ got?”
mason
If you were to ask me how it happened, I wouldn’t have shit to say to you, because I don’t know, either. What I do know is that by the time we make it back to her hotel room, we’re both completely sober and we barely manage to make it through the door.
I never thought of myself as easy – is that even a thing a guy can be? – but once we got through ordering, all it took was a few eyelash flutters and a couple of clever jokes and this girl had me eating out of her hand. She reaches into her purse for the key card, fumbling to get it into the slot on the door with her free hand as the other stays hooked around my shoulders. When it doesn’t work, I move my lips from the side of her neck and slide the hand I’ve got resting on her ass lower, hoisting her up so she’s instinctually winding her legs around my waist.
“Give it
to me,” I order, taking the plastic from her trembling hand and I slip the card into the slot, both of us releasing a breath of relief when the light blinks green, granting us entry.
I shove through the door, both of her hands gripping my shoulders as her fingernails dig into my flesh making me crazy. I set her back on her feet and bend down to meet her lips, unwilling to pull away from her completely, but knowing I can’t get to her fast enough.
“Take off your pants,” I order, tossing the plaid flannel she’d spent the better part of dinner teasing me over onto the floor before I yank the t-shirt underneath over my head.
She shimmies out of her jeans, tossing her shoes off at the same time and throwing them into a dark corner before her blue eyes fall back on mine heavy. She takes a quick moment to let her eyes splay over my chest as I pull a condom out of my back pocket and stare over her bare legs, all the way up to the sheer, pink lace barely covering her and I stifle a groan. By the time the foil wrapper is resting between my teeth, waiting, she’s pulled her shirt over her head and my chest is heaving just as hard.
“I know I’m about twenty-four hours late asking, but do I need this?” I ask, plucking the condom from my teeth and pushing my jeans down, eyes barely able to meet hers as I take in the matching bra her nipples are straining against. When she shakes her head immediately and pulls me closer by the waist of my jeans, slapping my hands out of the way, I toss the foil to the side and this time, I let the growl of pleasure ricochet between us. “Thank fuck,” I husk, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to mine.
I kiss her hard and fast, taking her breath at the same time she takes mine. There’s something in the back of my brain telling me we might want to think this through – we can’t blame it on the booze in the morning this time – but the bigger part of me doesn’t care about anything but being inside her.
Right here. Right now.
I lift her into my grip once more, this time, the feel of her flesh against mine making my cock needy as fuck. As I drop her down onto the mattress a moment later, her hair splays out around her and she slips her fingers beneath the lace and she stares back at me, her eyes just as hungry as mine. She lifts onto her elbows, unclasping her bra and tossing it away before she moves higher onto the mattress, making room for us both. By the time my jeans are a distant memory, I’m climbing up between her legs, caging her in with one hand while the other roams freely over her front.
“Oh, my God,” she pants beneath me as I pull away from her mouth, lowering immediately to close my lips around her nipple and squeeze the other hard between my fingers. Her hips are beginning to buck beneath me, the feel of her stomach grazing the side of my cock threatening to take me down – fast. I glance up to find her fingers winding into her hair, her body heaving and needy against mine before she settles them firmly on my shoulders and steadies herself. “Mason …” she trails off, twisting her hips again as I move lower down her front, thirsty for the taste that’s been haunting me all day. By the time I grip her hips in my hands and spread her legs wide before me, she’s dripping, her sweet scent making my mouth water, my cock throb. I flatten my tongue against her center, and we both release a guttural sound at the same time. “Ah!”
“Fuck…” I groan, immediately melting into the mattress on top of her, her thighs brushing against my neck as she bends her knees over my shoulders, and I hold her in place.
As frantic as we’d been when we stepped off that elevator, the moment my tongue finally slips between her thighs, my movements slow and I want nothing more than to savor every single bit she’s got to give me.
It isn’t long before her thighs begin to tremble, her body instinctually rising and twisting in an attempt to pull herself up the mattress, but I don’t let it.
I wind my arms harder around her thighs, one hand splayed over her stomach as I yank her back down and hold her in place. Her toes clench, her body bucks beneath me, her shallow breaths begging brokenly until finally, her entire body tenses for a split second as she cries out and immediately, she melts right along with me.
Her release flows over my tongue and I lap at it like its water, let it intoxicate me like whiskey. By the time I loosen my grip on her spent frame and raise to meet her gaze, her blue eyes are hiding behind her palms, her body still seizing with aftershocks of pleasure.
“You good?” I ask, lightly yanking at one of her arms as she nods incessantly, her lip quivering as her pants begin to slow.
“Uh huh,” she manages, making me stifle a cocky smirk.
“You want me to st-”
“No,” she cuts me off, shaking her head just as fervently. “No, I just don’t think I can move yet.”
I glance back down at her body, drenched in sweat and arousal, and find her legs still splayed out, one palm lightly gripping her pussy as she wills it to calm.
“That’s okay, baby,” I croon, reaching for the spare pillow beside her and lifting her useless legs enough to make her gasp as I slide it under her ass, raising her up two inches to meet me before I drop her roughly onto its surface as I clamp one hand on the headboard and plant the other on her hip and squeeze. “I don’t need you to move.” Her cheeks blaze as she bites down hard on her lower lip, but she nods her understanding just the same. “All you’ve got to do is hold on, sugar.”
With one hand still firmly planted on the padded headboard, I release my hold of her hip and move my palm to her ass cheek, gripping it tight before I yank her body closer to mine and shove inside her.
She lets out a gasp at the same time I release a groan that comes from deep down inside my chest, one so deep and so animalistic, I’m sure I’ve been holding onto it for every bit of the last eighteen months. As my body begins to move, so does hers and her breathing falls in time with mine. Flashes of the last two nights, her full, pink lips wrapped around my shaft, her hair wild as she rode me, they all seep into my memory again, driving me wild despite the fog that came from the whiskey.
This time is different, though.
This time we knew what we were getting into the moment it began – the moment I knocked on her door tonight, if I’m honest.
This time, neither one of us can deny how much we wanted it, how badly she craved my touch, how desperately I needed to be inside her.
This time, as I slam my body into hers, drowning out every cry of pleasure with growls of my own, our hands and lips and flesh everywhere as we stare into one another, we both feel the shift that can no longer be denied.
Not tomorrow morning, not after the weekend has come and gone, not even when we make it back to the little town that bred our hatred.
This time, there is no turning back.
And this time, as she throws her head back and her hands clench the sheets beneath us, she screams out my name and I fill her, the taste of her desire still fresh on my lips as I slam them against hers, there’s one more thing I know as fact – I couldn’t walk away now if I tried.
chapter twenty
alex
“So, I was thinking,” Evie says, pulling me from my wayward thoughts as she stares back at me from across the table.
We’ve been set up here for the better part of the last hour, enjoying a short break while the baby naps in his stroller beneath the shade. While the entire week has been killer busy, today and tomorrow are going to be insane. I know we’ve got a ton to do, but the little break in the day to sit and talk with my friend is much needed. Especially after everything that’s happened between Mason and me since last night.
I can feel my cheeks beginning to heat beneath the flashbacks burning through my mind, still taking me captive hours later.
I never thought I’d feel anything but hatred toward Mason King, but after last night, I’m feeling all that and more.
I want to lick him.
I want to bite him.
I still kind of want to punch him in the face.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more confused in my life.
The emotion behind
my thoughts is complicated, but the desire in them is anything but.
I know I can’t talk to Evie about it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need a moment to catch my breath.
“You okay?” she asks, snatching me from my wayward thoughts and pulling my eyes back to hers immediately.
“Yeah,” I nod before quickly shaking my head clear. “Sorry, I just zoned out.”
“No worries,” she smiles. “So, everyone is going to start showing up at the first bar by like ten, but Mason is going to get my mom at four, so that’ll give us a couple of hours to visit with her and wrap up on this stuff,” she continues, glancing down at the to-do list we’ve been working on. “Once the kids are in bed, I’ll feel less guilty about leaving my mom on her own with all three of them,” she smirks. “I know Amy won’t be here, but it’ll still be fun for us to do our own thing, just you and me, before we head down to meet everyone else.” I stifle an inward smile as I recall the text I’d received from Amy this morning telling me she’d got an early flight and would be here in time to help me get Evie ready for tonight. She’s going to be ecstatic. “I feel like this whole week is flying by and I’ve barely gotten to spend any time with you and tomorrow will be even crazier.”
“I know,” I agree immediately, trying my best to keep up with what she’s saying and not focus on the barrage of explicit images playing on a loop in my mind.
I’m about to answer, trying desperately to be a good friend, but she doesn’t wait. I’m totally fine with that today.
“I’m really excited to see everyone, but this week has been nuts, ya know?” she asks, making me nod again. “I just think it’d be really cool if we had some alone time to kind of process, do girly shit. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I agree. “And I think you’ll feel a lot more comfortable doing it that way, too. No risk of waking the kids, we can just let loose and have fun before the actual fun.”
“Yes!” she beams, reaching across the table to take my hand. “Thank you again so much for all you’ve done to help us out this week. I know I’ve been a bit of a nightmare,” she admits, making me wave her off through my laughter. “No, I have. It’s fine for you to agree with me,” she smiles apologetically, leaning back into her seat. “I just want so deeply for this to be just right … perfect, y’know? And Dash? He’s been everything I could have asked for and more, but he’s a guy. He doesn’t get it,” she rolls her eyes affectionately. “He’s been helping out, but he doesn’t have the same vision. He just wants to get married, which I can appreciate, but they just don’t dream about their wedding day the same way that we do.”
