Her hands shook as she pulled his dress shirt out of his trousers and began to unbutton it. Once it was open, she could fully understand why he’d taken his time with her. She ran her hands over his wide, muscular chest. She took her time savoring the hard muscles of his biceps and the flat perfection of his taut stomach.
Licking her lips, she unbuckled his belt and trousers. She slid both his pants and his boxer briefs down, bending to hold them as he stepped out of them. The action freed his erection, and it was now directly in front of her face. She’d seen photos of naked men before, but she doubted there was a more perfect penis in all the world. Like the rest of him, it was beautifully sculpted. The size was a little intimidating. She didn’t expect pain her first time, but he was endowed with more than most, at least if magazine surveys were anything to go by.
It seemed a shame to be so close and not taste him. She flicked her tongue across the tip, and he groaned audibly. She looked up at him quickly, then followed her instincts. She took him into her mouth as deeply as she could and caressed him with her tongue.
He grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and guided her backward until she sat on the edge of the bed. At first, she didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t seem to care. She ran her hands up and down his thighs and moved her mouth up and down on him.
His hands tightened painfully in her hair, and he withdrew from her. “Stop,” he ordered. He crawled onto the bed beside her, pulled her to him, then poised himself above her. He swore, rolled, and reached into the pocket of his pants. When he rolled back, sheathed in a condom, he said, “I’m always very careful, but you almost made me forget to be.”
“Sorry?” she said in a cheeky tone.
He kissed her deeply, then raised his head. “You’re dangerously addictive, Chelle. What am I going to do with you?”
The sadness she’d glimpsed in him earlier had returned, and she didn’t want it to be part of their lovemaking, so she deliberately misinterpreted his question. She pulled his head back down for a kiss. With a wiggle of her hips, she wrapped her legs around his hips, a move that brought his cock full against her parted sex. “I have one suggestion, but I don’t want to be too forward.”
Humor lit up his eyes and mixed with the desire already burning there. He raised and lowered his hips so the tip of his cock grazed her clit again and again. “Aren’t you supposed to be afraid?”
She parted her legs farther. “I’m with you. How could I be?”
He claimed her mouth again with a roughness that felt a bit like a reprimand, but she wasn’t sure who he was angry with. He kissed his way down her neck and took his time guiding her body once again to a wild, hot frenzy. When she was writhing beneath him, he carefully slid the tip of his cock into her.
Gently. Slowly. Despite how desperately Chelle wanted him, he took his time. There was tightness, but no pain. He began to move in and out of her slowly, and a whole new sensation rocked through Chelle. She moved with him, meeting his gentle thrusts with her own.
“More,” she whispered hotly into his ear. “Harder.”
He paused. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, and he thrust himself deeper into her. Oh God. It felt so good. Better than anything she’d imagined. “Oh yes,” she cried out. “Like that.”
He raised himself above her and plunged deeply into her, again and again, harder and faster until she was clawing at him and sobbing from the pleasure of it. Just as she was about to climax, he took one of her nipples between his teeth and tugged at it in a way that sent waves of heat through her. The orgasm paused and heightened. Slight pain, intense pleasure. The feelings built upon each other until she was begging him to take her other breast into his mouth. All the while he pounded into her, filling her so completely she thought she’d never feel whole without him again.
When she finally did come, she threw her head back, arching against him, and gave herself completely over to it. She collapsed beneath him. “Holy shit,” she said as she tried to catch her breath.
He rolled onto his side, disposed of his condom, cleaned himself off, and then pulled her into his arms. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
With her head resting on one of his bulging biceps, she absently ran a hand over his bare chest. “Oh yes. I can only assume you came, too, because I was outside of my body for a few minutes there.” She closed her eyes and savored how her body was still humming with pleasure. “Is it always like that for you?” she asked without thinking.
He tensed beside her, and her eyes flew open. He rubbed a hand over his face as if some thought were causing him actual pain. The openness was gone, and Mason was suddenly as distant as a stranger. He moved off the bed and pulled on his trousers. “I’m sorry, Chelle.”
Okay. Don’t panic. You knew he wasn’t staying. Of course, a woman could hope a man would want to linger a bit, but . . .
“For what?”
He frowned at her while he continued to pull on his clothing. “I have to get out of here. I don’t spend the night. Ever.”
She wrapped the hotel sheet around herself and fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. This is who he said he was. Still, it hurt Chelle that he had withdrawn so completely. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the type to stay and cuddle, but couldn’t they at least talk? Why did he look as angry as she felt hurt? “I didn’t expect you to stay.”
He picked his tie off the floor and stuffed it into his pocket. His expression darkened. “I don’t believe in relationships or monogamy.”
The hurt of a moment ago quickly dissolved. His eyes raked over her with a hunger that made her want him again. It was then she realized he wasn’t upset with her—he was angry with himself. “Then leave,” she said, pushing him to see the truth.
“I should.” He ground the words out, but didn’t move. “The problem is I don’t want to,” he said harshly, looking as if he hated himself for making the admission.
“Then stay,” she suggested softly.
He stood there for a long moment, seeming to debate his next move. Finally, he pulled off his shirt and threw it back on the floor. “You leave tomorrow.” He shed the rest of his clothing and slid back into bed with her. He pulled her back into his arms, tucking her firmly against his side. She could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. “This doesn’t change anything.”
Despite his declaration, Chelle relaxed. Her first time should have left her feeling vulnerable, but oddly it was Mason who it had shaken. Part of her was just as afraid as he was, but at the same time she knew he was letting her see a side of himself he hid from others. This wasn’t the smiling, confident Mason who charmed crowds with ease. This was the broken man inside him.
Chelle wrapped her arms around him in an entirely different way than she had earlier and gave him a full-body hug. “You’re a better man than you think, Mason.”
“You don’t know me,” he said and turned off the light beside the bed. Still, the way he held her to his chest through the night made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she did.
She was much less sure the next morning, when she woke alone.
Mason wasn’t feeling his best the next day as he sat at his desk and answered the landslide of e-mails he’d received. His supposed engagement to Chelle had made it into the national news circuit, and the story had gone viral in a way he hadn’t expected it to.
I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that Chelle knows the Takedown Cowgirl.
I fucked up royally.
His office phone buzzed. He answered, and Millie said, “You have a call on line one.”
“I told you to hold my calls until lunch,” Mason snapped. He knew he was taking his sour mood out on the wrong person, but he was too angry to care.
“It’s Charles Dery. He told me to warn you if you don’t take his call, he’ll fly here, and that won’t go well for you.” Millie repeated Charles’s threat in a professional, nondramatic tone.
“Put him through,” Mason said tiredly and hit speakerphone.
&n
bsp; Charles didn’t waste time on the formalities of a greeting. “Didn’t I ask you to stay away from Chelle?”
Mason closed his eyes and rubbed his throbbing temples. “You did.”
“You had to have her go out there to see you. That’s so classically you; I can’t be angry about that. But for God’s sake, you couldn’t keep it out of the news? You had to parade her around and make a big deal about an engagement we both know is fake? Where is your fucking brain?”
If Charles was looking for a fight, Mason wasn’t engaging. He completely agreed with Charles on this one. He’d spent hours since he left Chelle chastising himself for sleeping with her and making their little game public. He felt like a complete ass. It was worse, though, than even Charles knew. Mason opened his eyes and slammed a fist down on his desk. “I like her.”
“Shit. You slept with her, didn’t you? You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, could you?”
Feeling both guilty and cornered, Mason snapped, “How high and mighty you sound when you judge me, but I don’t remember you keeping Melanie out of the spotlight. Oh, but wait, that was different, because it was you. You can fool everyone else, but I’ve known you too long. You don’t give a shit about Chelle. You’re pissed that someone in that little town you pretend to love might be upset with you. Did you hand your balls to Melanie along with a diamond ring? Because it sure sounds that way to me.”
Charles inhaled loudly. He swore a few times, then sighed. “I’m happy for the first time in my life, Mason. You’re right—I don’t want to lose Melanie or the man I am when I’m with her.”
If there were an award ceremony for biggest ass of the year, Mason was certain he would be a shoo-in for winner this year. He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to lose that, either.”
“News of your engagement has hit Fort Mavis. They think you came to town and swept Chelle off her feet. No one here has the slightest idea this is a joke. And you’re wrong; I do care about Chelle. She’s been a good friend to Melanie. I don’t want to see her get hurt in this. You might think you like her, but you’ll like someone else tomorrow. And another woman by Wednesday. Even if you slept with Chelle, you have to find a way to make sure she doesn’t get hurt in this.”
“What do you want me to do, Charles?”
“You’re the one who is always telling me to put a good spin on things. Spin this into something positive.”
“It’s not going to be easy. She’s leaving today on some big search for who she is. I guess I could say we broke up.”
“Have her do it.”
Mason grimaced at the phone. “She’s probably not talking to me.”
“Did you sneak out in the middle of the night?”
Mason didn’t bother to lie. This was Charles. “Technically, I waited until morning.”
“Mason.” Charles said his name as a reprimand.
“I’m aware I’m an asshole.” He tapped his thumb on the desk in front of him. “The worst part? I wanted to stay. She has this way of looking at me that makes me forget how completely wrong I am for her. I mean, can you imagine me in a relationship with a woman like that?”
Charles didn’t answer at first. When he did, it hit Mason like a kidney punch. “No, I can’t.” The comment was doubly painful to hear because Mason knew Charles was being honest. “But you do need to talk to her again, Mason. You two need a plan for how to ride out this story in a way that makes it drop out of public interest and leaves her okay to come home.”
Home. Could Charles really feel that way about Fort Mavis? Did Chelle?
“I’ll call her, Charles. Right after we hang up.”
“Mason,” Charles said slowly, “you asked for my opinion.” He didn’t say more. Really, what could he add? It was clear what he thought.
Mason hung up. On impulse, he asked Millie to come in. She took the seat in front of his desk with her tablet in hand.
When he didn’t speak at first, she prompted, “You wanted to speak to me?”
Mason stood and walked around to the front of his desk. He dropped into the chair beside her. Her eyebrows rose; that was the only tell that he’d surprised her. “I have a problem.”
“Just one?” Millie asked blandly, laying her stylus down on her tablet. A hint of humor lit up her eyes.
Mason sat back and reminded himself that Millie had never given him a reason not to trust her. She was impeccably, consistently reliable. “My engagement isn’t a real one. It wasn’t supposed to do more than cool down a certain young lady and convince Senator Goss he could vote for my bill because I’m not going to sleep with his wife.”
Millie’s expression remained impartial. “The engagement looked real enough in the clips I saw on the news.”
“That’s part of the problem,” Mason admitted grumpily.
As if she were asking what he’d like to order for lunch, Millie inquired, “And the rest is?”
“Chelle isn’t the type of woman I usually socialize with. I need to put a good spin on this so she can go home with her head held high.”
“Senator Thorne, I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking me.”
“You’re a woman. Would it be better for you to break it off with me publicly? Or for me to break it off with you? What do women prefer?”
Millie folded her hands on her lap and asked calmly, “Are you asking me to answer as your secretary, or would you like to hear what I really think?”
Mason sat straighter. “Is there a significant difference in the two?”
“Absolutely.”
“Interesting. Start with what my secretary would say.”
“Your reputation is your political Achilles’ heel. It’s what is holding you in this office and stopping you from making a serious run for governor. Continuing the charade might benefit your career. However, considering the circumstances surrounding this engagement, I would suggest you put serious consideration into delicately extricating yourself from this association without incurring the wrath of the woman.”
Voilà, the reason Millie was indispensable to him. She not only understood her job but had a good grasp of the bigger picture. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Okay. Now what is your personal opinion?”
“My impression of Ms. Landon is she doesn’t care what the people in her town think of her. She cares about how you feel toward her and whatever went on between the two of you.” The look she gave him suddenly turned maternal. “If you have any real feelings for this woman, you’d be a fool to let her go. She’s genuine and that’s hard to find.”
Mason blinked twice and replayed what Millie had said, sure he’d somehow misunderstood. She held his gaze coolly. “Thank you, Millie.”
Millie collected her tablet and stylus and stood. “You’re welcome, Senator Thorne. Should I order lunch for you, or will you be going out?”
Mason stood. “I have somewhere I need to be. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”
“Of course,” Millie said and walked out of his office.
Mason took out his cell phone and called Chelle.
“Hello?” she said cautiously.
“Where are you?” Mason barked.
“At the airport. I bought a ticket to San Francisco. I decided I have to ride a cable car and see the Golden Gate Bridge before I leave California. My plane boards in twenty minutes.”
“Cancel your flight.”
“Why?” Her voice went from bemused to slightly disappointed. “Oh, is this about the ring? I completely forgot I still had it on. I could leave it with security here at the airport if you want. Or I could mail it to you. Insured, of course.”
“I don’t care about the damn ring. Have you watched the news?”
“No.”
“We’re all over it. Your family thinks we’re actually engaged.”
“Oh.” She made a pained sound. “That’s why they’ve been trying to contact me. I figured I would call them when I landed.”
“I’ll pick you up at the airpo
rt in forty minutes.”
She hedged. “I won’t be here. My luggage is on the plane. I have to go.”
“Do not leave, Chelle.”
He could hear her breathing change and knew her temper was rising. He imagined kissing her anger right out of her. That thought brought back a flood of memories of the night before. How she’d felt beneath him, around him, welcoming him into her.
Focus.
“Mason, I don’t mean to be harsh, but I don’t like you much today.”
He lowered his voice. “We need to talk about last night.”
“No, we don’t. I knew what I was doing, and you never led me to believe it meant anything to you. Waking up alone wasn’t a shock. So no, I don’t see what we have left to say.”
Mason walked as he spoke, heading toward his car. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” His phone switched to Bluetooth as he started the car and peeled out of the parking lot.
Sounding frustrated, Chelle asked, “What do you want from me, Mason? If you’re looking for me to tell you I’m okay with what you did, it’s not going to happen. That was pretty shitty. I don’t care how well we do or don’t know each other. You didn’t have to end it that way.”
Mason ground the gears of his car and merged recklessly into traffic on the highway. “You’re right, but don’t get on that plane.”
With a strangled sound, Chelle asked, “How do you know my parents know? Did you talk to anyone from Fort Mavis?”
The conversation wasn’t going as he’d expected. “Charles.”
In a horrified tone, she asked, “Oh my God, does he know about us? Are you calling me because he told you to?”
Mason didn’t want to lie, but nor did he want to confirm.
Chelle’s voice rose. “I am not a violent person. I’m not even an angry person by nature, but if you were here, I would probably hit you again. And this time, I’m not sure I’d feel bad about it. I’m okay with last night, Mason. You know what? It was even wonderful. You were wonderful, okay? But everything else around that, this whole conversation—I don’t know what to do with it. Don’t come to the airport, because I’m getting on my flight. In fact, I’m boarding now. Good-bye, Mason.”
Taken Home (Lone Star Burn) Page 10
