by Aly Martinez
"You know it's not good to keep stuff like that in," he whispers against my neck.
"I'm not keeping anything in. Besides, you already know the answer. You might be the only one who knows what that dream was about." My connection with Mason surprises the shit out of me. I know I told him my biggest fear earlier, but I really didn't need to remind him of it. Yet the words still tumble out of my mouth.
"So who left you alone, Lace?"
"No one important," I answer honestly.
"No fiancé left you at the altar or high school boyfriend who took off and never came back? Something had to have made you this way.”
"Nope. But oh, wise horse trainer Mason, do you also have a degree in psychology that you aren't telling me about?" I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. If there is one thing I hate, it’s when guys try to figure me out. Sure, I opened the door with Mason by telling him something about myself that he has no business knowing. "I had one fucking nightmare. I don't need some deep, traumatic event in my life to be scared of something.”
"Oh yeah? Then just tell me why you called out my name?
"When, during sex? Um...because your huge dick was ripping me in half." This conversation is quickly escalating into an argument—at least on my end. Mason remains calm and cool, seemingly unfazed by my attitude.
"Oh, I know exactly why you were calling my name when I was making you come all over my dick, but why did you wake up from a nightmare calling my name?”
"Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." I stand up, ready to bolt. The morning is quickly approaching, and that’s my cue to go.
"Okay, I see how it is, Lacey. You are terrified of being left alone, but you have absolutely zero problems being the one doing the leaving," he bites out.
"Exactly," I snap back. I search the room for my clothes, never making eye contact with Mason again. I have no idea how that conversation deteriorated so quickly, but it’s probably better this way. For the first time in my life, Mason made me want to stay.
"Wake up. I need a ride home" I kick Hunter on the leg.
"What? Why? Have Mason take you," Hunter whines, half asleep.
"Nope, not happening," I say as I hear Mason pulling on his jeans. "I want your dick in my mouth on the drive back to my place." I know Mason is still standing behind me, and I can feel the anger rolling off his body. If I had to guess, he is probably more pissed off by my sudden departure—and even more so that he is missing out on a fabulous blowjob on the way—than our little spat.
"Now that is the right way to wake a man up!" Hunter sits up and begins getting dressed.
"Bye, Mase." I wave over my shoulder and painfully force myself out of the room. Hunter follows, but Mason stays still and silent.
The ride home with Hunter is quiet. I blow him, as promised. It was less than spectacular and I didn't even invite him inside to repay me. I just wanted to get away. No, I needed to get away. In only one day, Mason has fucked up my safe little world and he doesn't even know it. I'm not addicted to him or any of that other bullshit women spew. But I'm intrigued by him, and that is more than I can say about any other person I have ever met—including Hunter.
THE NEXT MORNING, I'M rushing around the extremely busy bakery. I lean over to box up a birthday cake when I hear a familiar voice behind me, "See, I knew calling you sugar was appropriate. It just felt right." I roll my eyes but turn around to see Hunter and Mason standing in line.
My eyes immediately lock with Mason, and not in the usual, sexual-tension-filled way. This glare is a straight-up accusation. I can't believe he told Hunter where I work. The smallest of smiles creeps across Mason's lips in response. Ah, payback for last night. Well, that makes more sense.
"Wow, it’s fancy seeing you two here," I snark, going right back to work.
"I said I was in the mood for a fritter, and Mason knew just the place." Hunter winks over at me.
"You're dead to me." I shoot daggers at Mason.
"Sure," he nods.
"So you own this place?" Hunter bounces on his toes.
"Uh, huh." I keep packing confections into boxes.
"So do you bake the stuff too or just boss people around?"
"Nah, you’re the only one I like to boss around." I finally smile a little when I think of all the ways I’m going to boss Hunter Coy around.
"I like that kinky smile you have going on right now. Whatever you are planning, I wholeheartedly agree."
I lower my voice to a whisper. "What if my plan was to watch you and Mase go at it tonight?"
"No!" Mason yells from beside him. I can't help but laugh as all my earlier annoyances disappear.
Hunter shrugs, indifferent to the idea. "You going out with us tonight?" he asks.
"Depends. Where are we going?"
"Horse show."
I bust out laughing. "As exciting as that sounds, I'm going to pass."
Mason continues to stand with his arms crossed, looking completely uninterested in this conversation, and it’s enough to piss me off all over again. He is such a broody asshole sometimes.
"Come on," Hunter begs. “Mason's showing a horse that we are trying to sell. As soon as it's done, we can go out, get some drinks, then go home and mix it up a little. Maybe switch off from last night. If you know what I mean." He winks over at me.
I heard everything sexual Hunter just said, but I am only focused on one thing, "You'll be riding one of your horses?" I ask Mason.
All I get is a stone-faced nod, but it's enough to set my blood on fire. I have no idea what it is about the thought of Mason riding a horse that turns me on so much, but I know I want to see it. I'd love to see him take command of one of those huge animals, bending it to his will.
"I'm in for the show, but last night is not happening again tonight. I'm sore. You either have to take turns or someone is getting benched for the night."
"I can take turns...or you can bench Mason. But I owe you a thank-you from this morning." Hunter gives a sexy smirk. I look over at Mason to see him sporting even more annoyance.
"You in or out?" I ask Mason, attitude seeping from my tone.
With sarcasm and bitterness rivaling my own, he answers, "Oh, I'm definitely in." Without another word spoken, Mason turns on his heels and walks out of my shop.
"Just ignore him. I think he's still cranky from missing out on that blowjob this morning."
"Can you please shut up? I work here. And while I don't give a shit what people think, I do care if they stop shopping here."
"Okay, okay. A kiss for the road?" He licks his lips as his eyes flash to mine. I want to do far more than kiss Hunter, but that will have to wait until tonight.
I look around the slowly emptying shop before answering. "One kiss. Then you leave."
"Yes, ma'am. I would take offense to that, but I know you are just excited about watching my ass when I walk away." He grabs me around the waist and pulls me tight against his body. He leans forward, dipping me like in a 1950s movie before kissing me senseless. I completely forget that I'm at work as I get lost in everything Hunter.
I offer a wide smile when he puts me back on my feet. "That was more than a goodbye kiss."
"Yeah, I know. Consider it a preview." He chews on his bottom lip, fully aware that it’s a sexy look for him.
"The previews always were my favorite part of the movie," I flirt back.
"Oh really? My favorite part is usually the climax." He smiles again before leaning forward and kissing me on the forehead. "See you tonight, sugar."
I roll my eyes but can't wipe the smile from my face as he saunters out the door.
Just as I turn to get back to work, I catch sight of Mason's brooding eyes through the front window. I offer him a little wave, but he only nods and sulks away behind Hunter.
TIGHT JEANS. CHECK.
Tight white tank top revealing a few inches of my midriff. Check.
A brand-new pair of pink and black cowboy boots I rushed out to buy just because I thought the guys would like them. Chec
k.
An overwhelmingly odd feeling of excitement to see Hunter and especially Mason again. Fucking check. Damn it.
"Holy shit, sugar! You cowgirled up!" Hunter says with a huge smile on his face.
"I wanted to fit in." I melt into his arms when he pulls me into a long hug.
"I'm sorry. You are going to do anything but fit in here tonight. There isn't going to be a man in the arena who isn't going to be imagining taking you for a ride. And the woman are going to absolutely hate you.”
"I do look pretty hot, right?" I laugh, wondering why I didn't try this look long ago.
"At least you're modest." He gives me a wink and wraps an arm around my shoulder, guiding me inside. He takes me to our seats on the upper level of one the bleachers. "Mason's first division is up next. You’ll be able to see better from up here." He reaches down, intertwining our hands, absentmindedly bringing them to his mouth to kiss my knuckles. He drops them into his lap, and I can't take my eyes off such a simple gesture as holding hands. I look over at Hunter to see him looking around the arena, and a warm feeling slides through my body. I'm struck by how normal and comfortable this feels to be here with him.
"Hey." I catch his attention. "I want a taste." I glace down at his lips just in time to see his tongue dart out to moisten them.
"I'm always available for sampling." He leans down, placing several gentle kisses to my mouth, barely swiping his damp tongue across my bottom lip. "Better?" he asks with a crooked smile.
"Much." I rest my head on his shoulder, and even though I should, I never release his hand.
A few seconds later, the show ring begins to fill with horses. I immediately find Mason on top of a beautiful dappled gray. Just as I thought, Mason is gorgeous on a horse. He effortlessly rides around the arena. The huge animal moves under him even though Mason’s hand never moves to give direction. Only the slight twitch of his leg has the horse changing direction. It’s fascinating to watch. Just before the class begins, Hunter stands, pulling me with him, and lets out a loud wolf whistle. Mason’s eyes briefly scan the crowd before landing on us. He gives a small nod in our direction and immediate turns away.
“Does he ever smile?” I ask Hunter.
“Ha! He is a serious bastard sometimes. But yeah, he’s actually funny as hell. It just takes him a while to warm up to new people. He likes you already though. He usually sits out completely the first time with a new girl.”
“He said y’all have known each other since you were kids.”
“Yeah. His dad was a real asshole so he basically lived at my house growing up.”
“Well, I guess that’s where he gets it from them. Chip off the old block, huh?”
Hunter’s head snaps around to me. “No,” he says firmly. “Mason is nothing like his father. Ray Wynn was an abusive, worthless prick. He was a drunk and blamed Mason for all of his failures. Don’t ever compare him to Ray.”
“Wait, what?” I whisper as my heart sinks.
“His mom left when he was around ten, and Ray blamed Mason for her leaving. He was a fucking kid, so I have no idea how he rationalized that, but I guess he needed someone to blame. Our dads had been friends since high school, so when Ray went off the deep end, Dad did the best he could to shield Mason. He made up reasons why Mase needed to stay with us for weeks at a time. On more than one occasion, he left in the middle of the night, only to return a few hours later with a battered Mason in tow.”
I turn back to the ring and watch Mason as he trots around. My heart breaks imaging what he experienced growing up.
“God, that sounds terrible.”
“It was. Look, I’m just telling you this so you understand him a little better. I’m hoping you’re going to be around a lot more, and he really can be a dick when he’s first getting to know someone. He doesn’t trust very easily.”
I nod, and Hunter changes the conversation. He begins explaining to me everything that’s happening in the ring. I pretend to be paying attention, but all I can think about is the storm in Mason’s eyes last night. Suddenly, it makes a lot more sense.
AFTER THE HORSE SHOW, our second night together went a lot like our first. We hung out, then had a lot of sex. Hunter made jokes and kissed me every chance he got. Mason watched, and when he did participate, he avoided my mouth completely. And more than anything else, I watched Mason. I did the one thing I hate that people do to me—I tried to figure him out. I desperately wanted to know more about him and how his past may have affected him. But unlike Hunter, Mason’s lips were sealed. Although, I never came right out and asked him.
The night ended much the same as the first, with Hunter sleeping sprawled out across the bed and me and Mason cuddling and talking.
The day after the show, the guys left to deliver the horse they managed to sell. They were gone for three days. Hunter called every night, but he never passed the phone to Mason. But then again, Mason never asked for it either. However, each night around midnight, I’d get a “Goodnight” text from him. It was always something brief and businesslike, but the idea of Mason sitting down to text me made me smile. I tried to send him something sexy back, but he never would respond.
The minute the guys got back, Hunter was knocking at my door. We made plans to go out and have a few drinks, and as sad as it made me, I spent the whole day staring at the clock.
“I need a drink, sugar.” Hunter shouts into my ear.
I’m drenched in sweat, and my hair is sticking to my face. I can only assume my makeup is running down my face. Hunter and I have been dancing for the last hour straight. He’s not just a pretty face. The man can move. His hard body has been grinding into me in the most erotic rhythm. The whole bar is staring as we all but fuck on the dance floor. However, the only I eyes I see are those of Mason carefully watching from the bar.
“Yeah, I could use a beer, too.”
Hunter grabs my hand and makes his way toward the bar. He holds me close, making sure no one bumps into me. When we reach the bar, he grips Mason on the shoulder.
“I’ve got to take a piss. Keep an eye on her.”
“What?” I shout. “I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me!”
“Yeah, I got her,” Mason responds, completely ignoring me.
“Shut up! You are not keeping an eye on me.”
“Okay, fine. I’m not keeping an eye on you. Just don’t leave my side,” he says, going back to sipping his beer.
“You know what—” I begin, but Hunter stops me by dragging me against him.
“I just meant I want to be able to find you when I get back. I know you don’t need anyone to watch you.” He winks. He’s totally patronizing me, but he’s sexy doing it, so I let it slide.
“Whatever. Just go,” I say, annoyed.
He smiles down at me with his dark brown eyes dancing with humor. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
“Oh Jesus. Go pee, Casanova. Save your cheesy lines for someone who needs them.”
He laughs but walks toward the bathroom.
I turn my attention to Mason. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he responds, looking at me but not moving in my direction at all.
“You’ve been quiet tonight. Everything okay?”
“I’m always quiet, but yeah, I’m good. I’m just tired from the drive home.”
“I loved watching you ride the other day,” I say, taking a step towards him, only to have him back away.
“Lace, I’d rather not tell everyone here about our little arrangement. They’ve been watching you dry hump Hunter all night. Don’t add me to the mix.” The hurt must paint my face because he quickly changes his tone to that of my Midnight Mason. “Hey, they wouldn’t understand. Don’t read into it. Let’s head out, go back to my place tonight. Okay?”
“Your place?” A small smile creeps across my face.
“Yeah. Is that okay with you?”
“Is your bed big enough?”
“It’s a queen. I think we’ll fit.”
“But Hun
ter likes to stretch out when he sleeps.”
“I guess you’ll have to sleep on top of me then. Ya know, just so he’s comfortable.”
I laugh, and a gentle smile tilts his lips. This Mason is amazing, and the draw I feel to him is unrivaled. He may like to watch, but I think I like to watch him more.
“You want to dance?”
“No,” he quickly answers.
“Please.” I put on an exaggerated sad face.
“No,” he answers, but he finally gives me a grin.
“But—”
“Next slow song maybe. I don’t move like Hunter.” His smile drops when he makes the comparison.
“Mase, I don’t want you to move like Hunter. I want to dance with you.”
“Next slow song,” he reiterates.
“Fine. I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
I turn and walk away, heading straight for the DJ’s booth. I pull twenty bucks from my bra and pass it to the DJ, whispering my request in his ear.
“Let’s go, cowboy.” I walk back to Mason, grabbing his hand and pulling him out toward the floor.
The first notes of Garth Brooks The Dance ring out over the speakers. Mason freezes for a minute before I glance back to find a heat in his eyes.
“Why this song, Lace?” he asks.
“I may not like country, but this is a damn good song.”
He stops trying to fight and actually drags me to the dance floor.
“I’m assuming you like this one.”
“For some reason, I suddenly feel like dancing.” He pulls me into his arms, closer than two friends but not as close as we will be in a few hours.
I sway in Mason’s arms through the entire song. Despite the fact that I picked this song just because it was the only slow country song I know, it’s strangely fitting. I wouldn’t pass up this moment with Mason for anything. Even though, one day, it will only be a memory.
He doesn’t move like Hunter, but he still captivates me. And it isn’t until the next song starts that I realize Hunter is watching us from the corner of the floor. He’s waiting for us to head back to the bar, and the disappointment I feel leaving Mason’s arms is alarming. I can tell Mason feels it too. But like a trained professional, he slams down his emotionless mask and leads me off the floor. I fully expected him to let me go right back into Hunter’s arms, but when we gets close he pulls me behind him and has a quiet chat with Hunter. They are probably just hashing out sleeping arrangements since Mason wanted us back at his place tonight. I enjoy the minute and hold Mason’s hand.
