by P. Jameson
“Except they get to keep it,” she said quietly. “They get to be happy.”
She shoveled more soup into her mouth to avoid his gaze. The warm liquid really was helping her throat.
“You’re gonna get that too.” His voice was hard with determination. Full of promise. A promise he couldn’t keep.
Reaching back into the box, he pulled out another to-go container. “Starting with these.”
Curious, Adira leaned forward for a peek. “Cookies?”
The container was full of fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. Yummmmm.
Mason nodded, giving her a boyish half smile that didn’t quite cover the concern that bracketed his eyes. He was worried for her. Just as he worried for others of the clan.
She was nothing special. Even if he made her feel she was just by being here. She’d never forget this.
He lifted one oozing cookie from the container and held it up like a treasure. “This is what happiness looks like… right before you eat it.”
A genuine giggle escaped her lips at his excitement, and his eyes caught on her mouth, softening, as he put the cookie to her lips.
“Well, go ahead,” he urged. “Take a bite of happiness.”
“That sounds like a bad advertising slogan.”
He smirked. “Bad ad slogans are merely one of my specialties.”
Grinning, Adira opened her mouth and took a bite.
Chapter Eight
“Hocus Pocus or Ten Things I Hate About You?” Mason stood in front of the television holding up two movie boxes. They bracketed his face like an extra set of cheeks and his expectant expression made her tummy take a twirl.
Thanks to Mason, she’d been Vicks-ed until she smelled like a hospital. Her belly was full from the food he’d brought. Her feet were warm from the socks he’d slipped on for her. A humidifier sat on the bedside table, spraying scented fog into the air. She sat on the bed, surrounded by the extra pillows and spare tissue containers. Now they were going to watch a movie, and it was her pick.
“What’ll it be, Sunshine?”
“Did you pick these?”
He frowned, looking back and forth between the two options. “No. Layna did. Why? Are they no good?”
“Well, I’ve only seen that one…” She pointed with distain at the one about the witches. “And trust me, it isn’t a very accurate depiction at all.”
Mason quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think they were going for accurate here. Think more along the lines of embellishing for the sake of entertainment. I mean, fuck, have you ever actually used the words hocus pocus in a spell?”
“Well…”
“Wait. You have?”
Adira gave a shrug with her hands. “It rhymes.”
Mason cocked his head before nodding in agreement. “True. So, which one?” He waggled the two movies in front of her face waiting for her to make a decision.
“I guess… Ten Things I Hate About You?”
One hand came to his heart like he was in pain. “That hurts, Sunshine. Say you don’t mean it.”
Adira rolled her eyes but she couldn’t keep from smiling. “It is an obnoxious title, isn’t it.”
“Yep,” he said, turning to load it into the player. “Should be interesting.”
As the show started, Mason got comfortable, kicking off his shoes and removing his belt. Adira tried not to watch, but the sight of him with his shirt hiked up to show the rippled ridges of his stomach while he yanked his belt loose was… captivating. It felt intimate. It felt normal. Like this would be any night of her life if she was his. If the darkness would leave her be.
Mason glanced up suddenly, catching her, and his gaze flared hot again. Like it had when she was just out of the shower. When he looked at her like that, like he wanted to own her, she turned liquid with desire. Hot, achy need pooled between her legs, making her feel desperate. Some part of her wanted to crawl from the bed and get close to him. Wanted his hands on her in a way he wasn’t up for. No matter how he looked at her, his words were fact.
She swallowed hard and forced her gaze away.
“Achoo!” She’d never been more thankful for a sneeze.
Wiping her nose, she focused on the TV. Even when the covers eased back and the bed dipped as Mason settled beside her.
“Hey,” he murmured, soft. But she didn’t look away from the movie. “Come here.”
Well, that did it.
She flicked her eyes to him and saw his arm was lifted high, making room for her to lean against his chest. His bare chest. He’d tossed his shirt over the chair in the corner. His body was magnificent. And it wasn’t her first time viewing it. She’d seen it alllll the first night they met. The night she forced his animal back into that body. She’d seen it again when the clan battled the Alley Cats, after he changed from his mountain cat back to a man. And many other times post shift. But one thing she’d never done was touch it.
She met his gaze, unsure. This really wasn’t a good idea, was it? The lights were low, with only the TV to light the room. And they were in her bed. And she was clearly… desirous. It was a recipe for embarrassment, and she’d had enough of that resulting from her little striptease earlier.
“Let me hold you,” he whispered, and it sounded so good, she forgot about all the reasons why it was a bad idea.
Slowly, tentatively, she eased closer until she was nestled snug against his side, her head falling easily to his firm chest. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she rested her palm over the ridges of his abs.
Mason was warm. So very warm. His skin was smooth and taut, and hot enough to melt butter. She was butter.
Helpless to stop herself, she snuggled deeper into his embrace, but he didn’t seem to mind.
In silence they watched the movie. It didn’t take long for Adira to discover it was a love story. Two souls mucking their way through the awkwardness of falling in love. It was messy. But it was sweet.
Mason’s hand on her stirred and she realized he was doodling on her back with his fingers. The movement was lazy and casual. As if he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Natural. It made her grin against his chest.
Continuing his movements, he seemed to hone in on certain areas. Like between her shoulder blades. The result was deep relaxation. She was practically putty after a measly few minutes of his touching and the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“Why do you think being around me cures your rhyming?”
Adira blinked to pull her brain out of its movie and Mason induced stupor.
“It doesn’t cure it. Rhyming isn’t a disease.”
“Not what I meant.”
She lifted her heavy head to meet his eyes and with his free hand, he brushed back the hair that hung down in her face.
“With me, it’s better. You can talk without rhymes. And without stutters.”
Adira nodded. “I’m not sure why.”
“Mirena thinks it means something.”
She dropped her head back to his chest. “Mirena thinks a lot of things.”
“That mean you don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Think it means something.”
Of course it meant something. She just didn’t have an answer as to what. “I don’t know.”
Minutes passed before he continued.
“I think it does. Mean something. I think it means there’s a way to keep you safe.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Just don’t know what it is yet. But I intend to find it, and swear to god, when I do…” Adira went still at the way his voice went all determined. All dominant. All masculine alpha male werecat. He might as well have just roared for how deep she’d heard him. All the way to her core.
It took several breaths for her to find the voice to ask, “what?”
The air eased out from his chest and his arm on her loosened a fraction. “Nothing.”
Nothing? He’d… nothing?
“Let’s watch,” he
said, stumping the conversation. But his hand found its way to the nape of her neck, massaging gently until she was jelly again.
How’d he do that?
She watched as Patrick sang a rousing show tune-esque number to Kat from the bleachers of the football stadium. That guy was a charmer, for sure. Adira figured by the end of the movie, Kat would only have one or two reasons to ‘hate’ him. Maybe even none.
Mason’s fingers moved to her scalp, his nails grazing before massaging with the pads. It felt heavenly. Her eyes drifted closed at the slow, sexy way he touched her.
He had a manner about him. He was inherently sensual. It was in his walk, in his smirk. The way he moved like he was so at home with his body. The way he took up space without apology.
A delicious chill moved over her skin.
“Theron calls you Magic-fingers Mason,” she murmured. “Because of your reputation around the spa.”
Mason barked out a quiet laugh. “That right?”
“Mm hm. I think it’s fitting.”
His touch became more urgent, and a pleasured moan slipped from her lips.
“That right,” he repeated, this time deeper, huskier. His tone was sultry. Reminded her of hot nights out under the stars, when the humidity mixed with the slight cool of the dark sky.
Her fingers pressed into his skin, trying not to move. She wanted to touch him the same way. Explore his smooth skin, the lines and ridges and dimples. Graze the thin smattering of dark hair just above the waist of his jeans.
But he wasn’t for her. Right?
“Sunshine, harder,” he breathed, his lips close to her hair. “Give me your nails. Give me something. Touch me harder.”
Wait. He wanted her to?
She went from soft and relaxed to giddy, as she slowly curled her fingers so her nails grazed his skin.
Mason heaved a shaking breath, his grip on her hair tightening just slightly.
“Like this?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he groaned.
Tentatively, she trailed across his stomach, dipping into each ridge of muscle as she edged closer to his jeans. She wasn’t going there. She really wasn’t. But he felt so nice. Solid. Unyielding. Like he’d be right here, with her forever.
Mason snatched her hand in his just as she was about to reach his waistband. For a moment, he just held it. Like he was trying to decide something. Then he linked his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss to the back. She watched him until his gaze flipped to hers, then she couldn’t hold it.
“Sorry.” The apology slipped from her lips without any warning. But she needed to say it so he knew it was okay that he made her stop. “I’ve never touched a man like that before. I don’t know how to do it right.”
“Oh, Sunshine,” he husked, his tone edged with something she couldn’t put a name to. “You were doing it right. I stopped you because you’re making me want more.” Again his hand tightened gently in her hair, bringing her gaze back to his. “More. Do you understand? And now isn’t the right time. I need to see you better first.”
“More.” Did that mean he wanted a future with her? Or just some quick physical encounter like she’d heard was his way. “Like the others have?” Her voice shook with the question, but she had to know.
But instead of an answer, she saw uncertainty flicker in his eyes. And really, that was the answer. Nothing had changed. There was still no future for her here with the Ouachita clan. With him.
She settled her head back on his chest and tried to pull her hand from his, but he didn’t allow it. And she didn’t fight. Soon she’d be gone, so it wouldn’t hurt to take what she could get? If Mason wanted to hold her hand. She’d let him.
She was biding time now. And she wasn’t going to be careful with what she had left.
Chapter Nine
More? Like the others have?
Adira’s question haunted Mason. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t promise her what the others had. His mating bond already belonged to a dead female. One unworthy of it, but still, one he’d chosen and at one time, thought he loved. All he could promise Adira was his devotion. He could promise her to be here.
And she deserved so much more than that.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and squeezed her hand tighter, as if it would link them together the same as a bond would. Why couldn’t he have found her before he was ruined. Before his baggage was a two-ton weight on his shoulders.
But no. Because then he wouldn’t have had Jordy. And no matter how fucked up he’d come out on the other side of that mountain, he wouldn’t regret the time he’d spent being a father.
Mason continued massaging Adira’s scalp and nape, but she’d gone tense on him. Locked right up. He didn’t like it. He wanted her soft again. Relaxing on him. It was how it should be.
He pressed his nose to her hair and breathed deep to imprint her scent. He’d already done it too many times before, always inconspicuously so she wouldn’t notice, but—
His breath locked up in his chest as he registered the change in her scent. Her pear and tea smell was tinged with something hot and delicious. Fucking sultry. Sweet and sweltering. Like heat and fragrant oil. What she’d smell like if he was fucking her on a tropical beach somewhere.
Goddamn it.
His Sunshine was… needy. She was aroused, just lying here with him. Fuck.
He breathed her in again, letting the scent go to work on his hard erection. One fucking scrape of her nails had given him the hardest boner of his life. If he’d let her continue exploring south of his waistband, she would have felt it, and he would have been a goner. She was so fucking hot. Like literal sunshine. She was a heat wave he wanted to get lost in.
Suddenly, she sat up, releasing a volley of sneezes that jerked her head with each burst. Seeing how sick she felt, was exactly the cold water Mason needed. He yanked tissues from the box and shoved them at her. She let out a miserable groan as she wiped her nose.
Damn it. He hated seeing her like this. If they were true mates, he’d be able to heal her through their bond. It was one of the amazing things about a shifter mating, the way one half could fix the other. Mend broken hearts, broken bodies. Put pieces back together so there weren’t even any crack marks. And the physical was the same as the emotional. Mating healed. Mating made them stronger.
It was a beautiful fucking thing, really.
Except it had never been that way for him and Deana. He hadn’t fixed any of her broken parts. Because it took both to make a whole. And she’d never been his. Not in her own heart.
Years later, the sadness in the pit of his stomach when he thought of her wasn’t because of their failed mating. It centered around Jordy. Her abandonment of him. And of her own values. The tragedy of her life made him sad.
The tragedy of their life.
Something in his consciousness shifted and Destiny was suddenly there. Your life isn’t tragic, Mason. Or… it doesn’t have to be. Remember what I said to you in Theron’s living room?
Yeah, she spoke to him when Mirena laid out her baby making plan. But what the Elder said didn’t make sense.
Your first mating was a mistake, she repeated the words again.
And yeah, he knew that. Kinda. He knew his relationship with Deana wasn’t good, but it gave him his bright, bubbly Jordy. Gave him his son. How could he call it a mistake?
You’ll see, she said, when you’re ready. And then her presence was gone.
Adira dabbed at her nose, brow furrowed and eyes on him. She tossed her used Kleenex in the direction of the wastebasket and missed. There was already a pretty impressive pile accumulating.
“What is wrong?” she asked, her voice nasally from the congestion.
“What do you mean?”
“You feel…” her frown grew until a tiny line formed over the bridge of her nose. “Sad.”
He was sad. But there was no way she could know that. He was a master at keeping his expression neutr
al. And when he slipped, there was always his handy smirk to clean up after him.
Mason shrugged it off. “I’m fine. Come back here.” He held his arms open for her to lean on him again and nodded at the TV. “This dude’s closing in on his girl. I smell a happy ending.”
But she didn’t move. Instead, she stared harder at him, like she was trying to see inside his brain through his eyes.
“No, you’re not fine. You’re… sad, Mason. You’re unhappy. I can feel it. Like, in my chest. Like it’s my own emotion. How can I feel it?”
Slowly his arm dropped and the movie lost any chance it had of holding his attention. He narrowed his gaze on Adira, and she sneezed again, this time grabbing a tissue herself.
She could feel his sadness. Like it was her own.
The knowledge left him breathless with possibilities. Adira chucked another tissue at the Kleenex mountain while his mind scrambled to make sense of what she’d said.
“I don’t like it, Mason. It feels dark, this sadness.”
He couldn’t answer her. He had no explanation. There was only one way she’d be connected to him like that, and it was impossible.
Wasn’t it?
If Adira could feel his turmoil… did that mean…
Mason rose to his knees on the bed, and her eyes widened at his nearness. “I need to try something. Will you let me?”
She pressed her lips together, giving him a nod. Good, female. She trusted him. And he realized he needed her to. Desperately.
Slowly, he brought his hand up, curving it around her throat and using his thumb to massage the soft skin under her jaw. Yessss, his cat hissed. Mine.
A shiver rolled through Mason as he focused on the feel of her. Her skin was every bit as soft as he’d imagined. Bringing his other hand up to thread at the hair near her temple, he locked his jaw to contain the sound of his cougar’s satisfied purr.
Adira’s swallow bobbed against his palm and he found her eyes. They were big and curious. Shit, he was about to try something dangerous. Not physically, but… dangerous for their hearts.
But he had to know.
Letting his cat close to the surface, he took a deep breath and tested their… bond?
