by Alisha Rai
When Mason heard the rap on his back door, he jerked up, hoping it was Leyla. Instead, he found Sasha’s scowling face on the other side of the glass.
He scowled back. Hell, if it weren’t for his friend’s horrible timing, he could be feeding Leyla melon balls right now.
Note to self: Do not think of any kind of balls around your lover’s murderous brother.
“Open the door.” Sasha’s words were unmistakable, though muffled by the glass.
Mason stood and walked to the door. “If you hit me again, I’ll hit you back.” He really didn’t want to do that either. Not that Sasha didn’t deserve a good ass whipping, but Leyla wouldn’t be thrilled they were fighting.
Love was complicated.
Sasha gave a short nod, and Mason opened the door, eyeing him warily. As Sasha stepped inside, Mason looked across the yard to find Leyla standing just inside her door. She smiled, all encouragement and sunshine, and gave him a thumbs-up. He hesitated and waved before he closed the door and turned back to his unhappy guest.
“Leyla said if I didn’t come here and talk to you, she’d never forgive me.” Sasha didn’t bother to hide the resentment or bitterness over that little gem.
Thanks, sweetheart. At least you tried.
“She twisted my ear.”
Mason winced and resisted the urge to rub his own ear in sympathy. He’d gotten his share of those growing up. “Do you want something to drink?”
Sasha clenched and unclenched his hands. “No.”
“She’s watching us. If I were you, I’d take the chance to get out of her view.”
Sasha glanced over his shoulder. He pasted a fake smile on his face. “Fine. Whatever. Bastard.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stomped into the kitchen. Mason sighed and followed. His friend stood with his hands braced against the counter, his face hard and uncompromising. They stared at each other in silence, neither quite sure what to say. Hell, they were men. His and Sasha’s relationship didn’t revolve around talking about their feelings.
Sasha shook his head. “I tell you how vulnerable she is, so you go and seduce her?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah? How long have you been sleeping with her?”
“Just last night.” One night, many times. But no need to torture the man.
“I trusted you.”
“Fuck, Sash. It’s not like I got her pregnant and abandoned her. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
“Overreacting? When you took advantage of my sister? You know she’s inexperienced.”
“Inexperienced doesn’t equal stupid. You’re doing her a pretty big disservice.”
“Friends don’t sleep with their friend’s sister. You know that. You knew I’d be pissed.”
His irritation faded a bit. “Hell yes, I knew that. I hoped you’d calm down when I explained how much I love her. I didn’t do this to scratch an itch or just have a quick one-night stand because she was convenient. I’ve been agonizing over it for months. And yes, part of that was because she was your sister, and I knew it was wrong to want my best friend’s sister.”
Sasha heaved a breath. “She said you loved her. I asked her if she loved you.”
A quick pinch near his heart. “What did she say?”
“She said she wouldn’t discuss it with me without talking to you first.”
Fair enough. “I love her. I want to be with her.” Marry her, give her my children. Once again, though, he wouldn’t speak to Sasha about that before talking it over with Leyla first. “You know me better than anyone. I’m not promiscuous, I’m not violent, and I don’t drink to excess. Could you honestly say you’d rather have someone else be with her?”
“No one’s good enough for her.”
“Agreed. She’s freaking amazing. But is that realistic? You don’t want her to marry, have kids? You don’t want her to be happy?”
“Of course I do…”
“Then, hell, man, what’s wrong with me? We grew up together. I understand her. I love her. What could you possibly object to?”
“Whoa, whoa.” Sasha shook his head, kicked out one of the barstools and sat down. “Marriage? Kids? My God. You’re moving too fast for me.”
Mason’s lips twitched. “Sorry.”
“You’re sorry. I’m sorry I decided to come over at all this morning.” Sasha sighed. “If you’re using crazy talk like marriage and kids, we clearly do need to talk.”
“Those are my terms. Do you accept them?”
“This is stupid, Sasha.”
“You’re stupid.”
“You’re twelve.”
“We agreed we would do it this way.”
Mason glared at his best friend. If he wasn’t such a good guy, he’d tell Sasha to stuff his lifelong friendship.
They’d spent the entire afternoon hashing things out, and what they’d determined was written on the notebook in front of Mason. He picked it up and reread the terms. “One, Leyla and I will not discuss any sexual matters in front of you nor will we engage in any overt physical displays of affection. Two, we must determine as quickly as possible if we are compatible within a relationship. Three, if we determine we are compatible, we must get married immediately, because you sure as hell are not going to stand for me shacking up with her indefinitely. Four, if I ever hurt her or make her cry, you will give me a gun, and I must shoot myself. Five, if I fail to shoot myself, I give you permission to do it on my behalf.” He slapped the pad down on the table. “Are you sure you’re a cop and not a lawyer?”
“Yup.” Sasha’s tone was remarkably cheerful for someone who’d wanted to commit murder a few short hours ago. “I think those are some pretty fair terms.”
“Do I need to give you a donkey to seal the deal?”
“Nah, we’ll just shake on it like we used to.” Sasha brought his hand up to his mouth and spit into his palm before extending it.
Mason eyed his friend’s hand with distaste. “You know this is how I caught mono from you when we were in seventh grade, don’t you?”
“Do you want my permission to see my sister or not?”
Mason sighed, and then quickly spit into his hand and shook with Sasha. Then, because he’d been through enough torture, he pasted an innocent expression on his face. “Leyla’s going to be so thrilled that I have your permission to date her.”
Sasha frowned and touched his ear. “Give me that pad.” He spoke as he wrote. “Six, I, Mason, will never discuss this conversation with Leyla. If I do, I will make it very clear to her that I was obtaining a blessing.” Sasha eyed him. “Blessing. Not permission. Got that?”
He laughed. “Yes. Got it.”
“Okay then.”
He and Sasha studied each other, and then Sasha stood. “I, uh, should get going. I won’t say I’m sorry I hit you, because you kind of deserved it. On principle, if nothing else.”
“Fair enough.”
“And…if Leyla absolutely has to see someone—”
“She does,” he said dryly.
“Then I guess it might as well be you.”
As far as ringing endorsements went, this one wasn’t amazing, but Mason would take it. He stood and slapped his friend on the back. “Sash, that’s sweet. We’re not naming our firstborn after you, though.”
“No talk about kids for a little bit. Please? Let me just pretend she’s pure for a little longer.”
He thought of her sweet mouth kissing down his body, and he had to clear his throat. “Yeah, as the driven snow. Now go away. This isn’t how I wanted to spend my day.”
He walked Sasha to his front door, where he paused. “I should stop and talk to Leyla—”
“Go away.”
Sasha grinned and practically rubbed his hands together. “Oh, man. This is gonna be kind of fun for me, isn’t it? I can’t believe I overlooked all these new opportunities to drive you crazy.”
“Enjoy, with my blessing. Now, goodbye.”
Mason slammed
the door behind him, and then waited, pacing his foyer, one eye on the clock.
Five minutes? Was that enough time for Sasha to have left? Probably. He darted through his home, out the back door, and through their shared backyard. Her living room, or what he could see of it, was dark, so he went around to the front door.
He hadn’t brought his spare key, so he knocked.
Nothing.
He pounded on the door again, his blood boiling, eager to have her again.
Nothing. Where the hell was she?
“She’s not home.”
He turned around to find Nosy Nancy standing in front of Leyla’s home, her little toy poodle at her side. “Hi Nos—er, Ms. Nancy. She’s not?”
The older woman sniffed, eyeing him as if he were a particularly ugly bug under her shoe. “Little girl ran out almost an hour ago. She said she was going to the grocery store. Nobody asked me, but she looked mighty upset about something.”
Worry consumed him. Upset? Had she been worried about his and Sasha’s discussion? Had she given up? “Did she say something?”
“No. It was just a look she had on her face.” The curmudgeon gave him a pointed look. “Maybe she isn’t keen on a man walking in and out of her house uninvited.”
He gritted his teeth and nodded, forcing himself to be polite. “Thanks, Ms. Nancy. I’ll catch her later.” He tried to keep his shoulders straight as he walked back to his place, despite the fact that he felt as if someone had just taken his dessert away from him.
Veiled Desire
Chapter Fourteen
The ring of his phone woke Mason up, and he groped for it. “’Lo?”
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
He blinked awake and rose on his elbows. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch. The eventful night and day must have taken its toll on him. “Leyla. Hey. Where have you been? You weren’t answering your phone. I had some news.”
“I had to take care of some errands. How did things go with my brother?”
“He’s moved from killing me on principle to maybe bludgeoning me if I hurt you.”
Her soft laugh filled his ear. “I knew you could sort it out. I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. Maybe we can have dinner together next week, once he has time to get his mind around it.”
Privately, Mason figured it would take more than a week for Sasha not to freak out over him and Leyla showing up at a restaurant together. God forbid they should hold hands or something. He made an affirmative noise.
“Well, I’m glad that sort of worked out.”
“Where are you? I want to see you.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Turn off your light.”
He cast a glance at the lamp on his end table. He started to turn toward his back door. “Are you home?”
“Nuh-uh.” Her voice was sharp, and he froze. “Don’t look yet. Just turn off your light.”
He smiled a bit goofily and leaned over to switch his light off. The room plunged into darkness. “Okay.”
“Okay.” There was excitement in Leyla’s breathless voice. “Look now.”
Savoring the moment, he stood from the couch and looked out his back window.
She stood inside her sliding glass doors, surrounded by glowing candles. The flickering light cast shadows on the creamy skin of her face.
She wore a lacy little red…he didn’t know what it was called. A robe? But robes were terrycloth and utilitarian, and this number was anything but. It hit her at mid-thigh, and there were so many holes in the lace, her skin played peek-a-boo with it.
Mason threw his phone on the couch, and he watched her do the same with her own. Her smile was all femme fatale. A bit dazed, he walked closer to his door, unlocking it. As he slid it open, her hands went to the knot at her waist, and he froze.
The robe parted, and underneath she wore the next best thing to naked in his mind.
The red bikini.
With a sexy shimmy, she dropped the robe to the floor and smiled. There she stood proudly, every fantasy he’d ever had. Her luscious, petite curves were highlighted in the bright red fabric, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. As he watched, she pushed it back so he had an even better view.
He didn’t care that he was walking barefoot across their shared backyard, didn’t care that he was stripping in public, pulling his shirt off and dropping it on the grass and unbuttoning his jeans. He didn’t care about anything but finally touching the dream that had been haunting him for so long.
Her door was unlocked, and she studied him with that knowing smile as he came inside. He locked the door and then pulled the blinds. When he turned around, he pushed his jeans and his boxers to the ground in one smooth motion. “If you were hoping we’d talk first, you went about it the wrong way,” he said hoarsely.
“Talk’s nice. But I’d really like you to fuck me first.”
Whatever tight rein he’d kept on his passion split at the unexpected swear word falling out of her sweet lips. With a groan, he gave in and pulled her forward, lifting her and turning ’til her back hit the wall.
Their mouths met, their tongues dueled. She pulled away, and unable to keep his lips off her, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. “Condom’s in my top.”
He hissed at the interruption, but he knew she was right. Besides, he liked where she hid stuff. He jerked her left cup down, and her breast spilled right out. No condom, but who could ever be sad about a firm, supple breast. “Hello there,” he muttered, and then licked the tight nipple.
She squirmed against him. “Other one. Hurry.”
Though he didn’t want to leave his new friend, he reluctantly pulled away and tugged at the other cup. A single foil package fell out.
They separated only long enough for him to roll the condom on, and he resented even that much time away from her.
As if she could read his mind, she smoothed a hand over his face as they came back together. “I made an appointment to go see my OB next week. It’ll take some time for the pill to take effect, but when it does…”
He could maybe slip inside her sweet body without any barriers? Christ, he couldn’t even think about that without wanting to jump and shout. He tried to nod. “Whatever you want.”
“I want you.”
“You’ve got me.” He adjusted her body, pushed the crotch of her little red bikini bottom to the side and drove into her, the tight clasp of her pussy just about blowing the lid off his control. He braced her against the wall and pounded into her, knowing he was too rough but unable to stop. Especially once she started getting more vocal, mewling and begging for more against his lips.
Unable to wait any longer, he freed one hand and maneuvered it between their bodies to pluck the hard bud of her clitoris. Her cries escalated, and he felt the contractions of her release around him. Only then did he allow himself to come.
In the aftermath, he braced himself against her and tried to think enough to speak. “Did I hurt you?”
She didn’t open her eyes, and he was gratified to know he wasn’t the only one who was completely wiped out. “I’m not that delicate.”
No. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met. “I know.”
“I love you, you know.”
If he’d had a little more energy, he might have done a back flip. Instead, he just smiled and nuzzled her sweaty neck. “I love you too.”
She yawned, a lusty, ear-popping noise. “I wanted to tell you that over a nice romantic dinner. We’re going all out of order again.”
“It seems to work for us.” He shifted her weight and felt his body harden.
She inhaled. “You can say that again.”
About the Author
Alisha Rai has been enthralled with romance novels since she smuggled her first tattered Harlequin home from the library at the age of thirteen. A mild-mannered florist by day, she pens sexy, emotional contemporaries and paranormals by night.
After a lif
etime spent bouncing around the States, she is content to call sunny South Florida home for now. When she’s not reading or working, Alisha loves to hang out with her close-knit family. She happily lives in a chaotic house filled with clutter, laughter, good food, boisterous kids and very loud relatives.
Alisha loves to hear from her readers! You can send her an e-mail at [email protected] or visit her on the web at www.alisharai.com.
Look for these titles by Alisha Rai
Now Available:
Glutton for Pleasure
Cabin Fever
Love isn’t something she thinks she needs…until it lands right on her doorstep.
Cabin Fever
© 2009 Alisha Rai
Genevieve Boden is a witch and doesn’t care who knows. The townspeople’s fear of her keeps away those who have hurt her before—like the local men of authority. Besides, a life of exile deep in the woods of West Virginia is due punishment, she figures, for the part she played in her mother’s death. If she’s alone, no one need know that the trauma took away her powers.
Then she finds a bloody, fatally wounded man slumped on her porch. In an instant, her healing ability reawakens—and that’s not all. He stirs a hunger beyond her wildest dreams. But a relationship with the new chief of police? Not a chance.
Alex Rivera isn’t sure how he survived, but he’s certain his beautiful savior did more than just bandage his wounds. Captivated by this wary angel and stunned by the depth of emotion he feels for her, he vows to discover her secrets. After all, thanks to the raging snowstorm, they have nothing to do but share body heat.
Their sizzling attraction goes straight to their hearts. So could a killer’s bullet…once whoever shot Alex finds them.
Warning: Contains a convenient snowstorm that throws together two wounded characters who happen to be wildly attracted to each other, a drool-worthy hero, a shotgun-toting heroine, mattress sex, shower sex, couch sex, armchair sex, some light bondage, and a really good cup of hot cocoa.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Cabin Fever:
“Either deal, or let me go do some work.”
