FALLEN CREST FAMILY (Fallen Crest Series)

by Tijan

  I put my two bags beside the closet and started to search for my running clothes when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. A thrill went through me when I saw it was Mason calling. "Hey!"

  "Hey," he was tired and tense.

  I straightened abruptly. "What happened?"

  He hesitated.

  "Mason."

  Then he gave in, "Your mom's a class act, Sam. And my dad's a clueless bastard. I can't believe it, but he's buying everything she said."

  "Are you serious?" He couldn't be, but my heart sank. I had already known that James was going to believe her. He loved her, he had to.

  "Yeah, but listen, she's faking. Even some of the doctors think it too. I heard one of the nurses talking about it in some office. They didn't know I could hear, but they were laughing at some diagnosis the doctor gave her. I guess it's given to headcases when they can't find anything wrong. They all recognized her from the ER trips she took during our road trip."

  "Did you talk to my mom?"

  Again, another strained silence before he admitted, "No."

  So many emotions flared in me—disappointment, hurt, relief, and so many more.

  He added, "I'm sorry, I really am. She banned me from the room. What I got from talking to my dad was that she's sticking to her story that she collapsed. She's saying it's because of all the anxiety we're giving her."

  Of course.

  I looked down. When would I learn? She was never going to change.

  "I told my dad that you and Logan are going to move into Nate's. He agreed that it was for the best." I heard noises from his phone and knew that he had stepped outside. There was a rustling sound. Then there was a ding, a slam, and complete silence again. It wasn't long before his engine started and the rustling stopped. His voice came from far away, "Sorry about that, I'm on my way home now."

  Home. Despite all the stress, a tingle of excitement flared in my stomach. My heart picked up its pace. He was coming home to me, with no parents, no hiding. We were living together, like a normal couple.

  "I'll see you in a bit. Do you want me to pick you up something to eat? I was thinking of grabbing some food."

  I was already shaking my head when I responded, "No. I'm going to go for a run. I've got enough time before I have to get back and head out again."

  "Head out? Head out where—"

  But I didn't hear him and hurried out, "Bye. See you later." Tossing the phone on the counter, I rushed to get dressed. I felt the old itch start up and knew that I wouldn't be able to quell it until I was sweating, panting, and sprinting on the road for an hour. Before I started out the door with my earbuds already in, I spied the phone and nabbed it quick. When I went down the stairs, I stashed it in a pocket, but I didn't worry about keys.

  A large group had congregated to the back patio. As I went outside, more cars had accumulated so I knew I'd have no problem getting inside the house after my run. I had a feeling everyone would be there long until the next morning.

  But then I stopped thinking and I started to salivate at the idea of a new running route. There'd be new roads, new parks, maybe even a running trail that would turn into a wooded maze. I couldn't help myself. I was sprinting by the time I got to the end of the driveway. After an hour I slowed down to a fast jog and kept that going for another hour. I figure two hours was good enough since Heather had already told me she needed me from five till close for my second day of training. As I started back, it didn't take me as long as I thought it would, or I ran faster than I realized, so my adrenaline was still pumping through me when I turned into the driveway.

  The cars had multiplied. I wasn't surprised.

  When I went inside, they were still on the back patio. The sounds of splashing and cheers told me they were in the pool. A few girls were in the kitchen and looked up as I came inside, panting and sweating. They were covered in string bikinis with long tanned bodies, holding frilly drinks. I stopped, grabbed the end of my shirt and used it to mop the sweat from my face. Their noses wrinkled up and were giggling as they went through the open door to the patio.

  "Hey!"

  I had turned for the stairs, but stopped. My knees buckled as Mason strode away from the group. God. My mouth watered, my drool mixed with my perspiration, and I was one wet girlfriend. As he walked towards me, I noticed that he had lost a little bit of weight. When had that happened? He'd been muscular before, but the slight leanness made the muscles on his arms even more striking. His shirt clung to his chest. It molded over the muscles that looked like an intricate map, one that only I got to explore. At the thought of tracing each and every dip with my finger, I grew wet between my legs.

  Goodness.

  "You okay?" He stopped before me, but the slight smirk that flashed at the corner of his mouth told me that he knew exactly what was going on with me. "I know how running can spur you on. I never knew it could turn you on too."

  "Smartass."

  The smirk doubled and his eyes darkened with desire as he stepped even closer. His chest brushed against my front, he was intimately close, and his lips lingered on my lips. "Goddamn Sam, you looking wet makes me hard."

  My throat jerked in reaction and his eyes were glued to mine. Then his hand curled around my waist, and he tugged me closer. One of his legs slid between mine, hoisting me off the ground so I was straddling him as we both stood there.

  "Mason," I whispered.

  He bent forward, going slow to draw it out. My eyes widened, I hungered for him. At the thought of his lips on mine, my mouth parted. Eager. Then his hand slid around my neck and cupped the back of my head. He anchored me in place as he slowly, so slowly, leaned down until I felt the soft tip of his lips against mine. A deep groan left me, I heard it from a distance, and then I opened my mouth further for him. His tongue swept in and everything flared inside of me. I gasped at the feel of him and surged upwards against him. When my legs tried to climb higher, he grabbed under my thighs and lifted me. I wrapped my legs all the way around his waist. As my arms held onto his shoulders, I clasped my legs tighter around him and then sunk down.

  Mason grunted from the contact between us but deepened the kiss even more. His touch was commanding and I didn't want to stop it. In the far distance of my consciousness, I felt us moving and then a door closing behind us, and a moment later, I felt the hot torrents of water spray down as he stepped inside the shower. He pressed me against the wall and slid a hand under my shirt to cup my breast. When his finger caressed the tip, I fell back against the wall gasping.

  "God, Sam, I love you," he whispered as his touch grew more demanding.

  I loved him. I needed him.

  I needed more.

  "Wait." He pulled away, panting, and rested his forehead to mine.

  I felt him trembling under my hands and reveled in the power of it. Sliding my hand under his shirt and over his chest, he drew in a deep breath. I leaned forward and pressed my mouth there, he quivered under my kiss. Then I flicked my tongue and he gasped, surging into motion at the same time. I was pulled from the wall, and after he kicked open the shower door, he plopped me on the counter before his fingers hooked inside of my shorts. They were whisked off the next second. Heated, I reached for him. My fingers couldn't undo his zipper. I cursed, but Mason helped me. As soon as he sprang free, he clamped a hand under my thigh, arching me back and slid inside with one smooth movement.

  A gasped scream ripped from my throat at the sudden contact. It was intoxicating, but not enough. I pushed up from the counter and moved in motion with him as he thrust in and out. The speed picked up, he went deeper and rougher with each thrust until I couldn't think. I could only feel as I rode with him in every movement, every back and forth, climbing closer to climax. When we were nearly there, he didn't linger. He thrust in one last time, the deepest yet. I exploded as I went over the edge with him, my body arched into the air. His penis touched the back of me and another burst of spasms coursed through me.

  Before I fell back down, Mason scooped
an arm around and held me to his chest. My body trembled and a second orgasm ripped through me. Crying out, I clamped onto his shoulders, still shaking in his arms.

  He held me there, cradled in his arms, as he brushed a hand down my back until I stopped quivering. Weak from the climaxes, the adrenaline I had from running melted into exhaustion and I didn't protest when Mason carried me to the bed. When he slid us both under the covers, my head hit the pillow and I let out a contented sigh. Then his arms slid around my waist, he pulled me back against him, and I was home.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I woke up and lunged for the nearest thing that told time. 4:45—holy shit. I rolled out of bed to my feet and was in the shower faster than I could've imagined. I impressed myself, but when the door opened, I met Mason's lust-filled gaze and dropped the shampoo. I was going to be late for my second day of work.

  My back hit the wall again as music started blaring below us. When he slid inside, he kept rhythm with the bass underneath. We were both climaxing during the bridge of the second song. As he let me back down, he braced an arm above me and gasped a few shuddering breaths. I grinned at the feeling of intoxication. Being with Mason was something I would never tire of, no matter the drama, no matter the obstacles. He made me alive. When I slid a hand up his chest and around his neck to draw him down, I pressed my lips to his and felt the same power over him that he had with me.

  It was liberating.

  "Hell, woman," he grunted as he braced a hand against the wall behind me so he could lean over me. "You're going to kill me."

  A grin teased the corners of my mouth, but I held my breath as he moved down, closer and closer, until he was a hair's width away from me. His breath fanned over me while I waited for his touch with my heart pounding. Just like that, even after we had been together, I still felt the intoxication sweep through me again. It was powerful and heady. When he didn't press his lips to mine, my eyes flicked up. His had darkened with desire, and he slammed his mouth on mine, melting the world away.

  Once more, I was swept off my feet as he picked me up and carried me to the bed. When he slid me back down, I caught sight of his clock—6:00. Panic overtook me like a bucket of ice thrown on us, and I shoved him away.

  "Wha—what are you doing?" His first question fell away as I scrambled off the bed and hurried to my bag.

  I grabbed the first thing my hand touched and threw it on. As I hopped around, trying to get my shoe on, Mason moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm late." Where the hell was that other shoe?

  "You're late?"

  I glanced up, distracted, but crashed into the couch as I saw the blood drain from his face. His eyes were wide with horror. It clicked with me. "No, no, no. I'm not pregnant."

  "OH!" His shoulders slumped with relief. "Thank god."

  Ah ha! I spied my other shoe and pulled it on right away. "I'm late for work. Gotta go." I grabbed my purse, my keys, and flew out the door. The crowd had moved to the center area around the fountain. I raced down the stairs and jumped over a girl who sat on the bottom step.

  Mason followed, standing in the bedroom's doorway, shirtless with a pair of unzipped jeans. He hollered after me, "You have a job?"

  "Yeah!" Ignoring the stares and sudden lull in conversation, I yelled back, "Manny's. Started yesterday. See you!"

  I was out the door and in my car within seconds but had to slam on the brakes when I looked in the rearview mirror. There were cars in front of me, on the side of me, and behind me. I was boxed in.

  "AH!" My forehead hit the steering wheel from frustration. I was never going to get there. Heather was going to fire me on my second day.

  What was I going to do? But I didn't have the time to consider my choices—she needed to know what was going on so I looked through my purse for my phone when I heard a tapping on my window. Glancing up, a heady rush went through me when Mason bent down and had his set of keys dangling from his hand. He was still shirtless. I wasn't going to complain.

  He said through the closed window, "Come on. I'm not blocked in. I'll give you a ride."

  When I got out, he led the way and I had a good view of his backside. Goodness. I forgot how he was just as well sculpted in the back as the front. The only times I looked at his back was when I pressed against him. It was his front side that always held my attention. I blushed as I remembered the reason why I was late for work and at how wanton my behavior had been. I should've been used to it, but when he sauntered to his Escalade with a natural grace that only the best athletes seemed to possess, I knew I never wanted to get used to our times together. I wanted every time to feel like the first.

  "What's the hold up? You coming?"

  Oh god. I had paused beside his door and was staring at him, lust in my thoughts. My head ducked down as I hurried around to the passenger side. I rolled my eyes. I was like a schoolgirl crushing on the local god. But I was, and he was, and we were together. My shoulders came back up at that thought. When I slipped inside, he gave me a questioning glance but pulled out and veered around the cars in the driveway.

  "You good?"

  I nodded, biting my lip. His jeans were still not zipped up, but he was only dropping me off. "I won't be done until the bar closes."

  "You help out in the bar too?"

  "Yeah." I gave him a sheepish look. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, a lot of stuff happened today, but I meant to."

  "It's no problem. I'm just surprised."

  "Really?" For some reason, I had thought he would've been upset that I got a job. But now as I saw that he didn't care, I relaxed. A small flutter started in the pit of my stomach, but it was a good flutter. I wanted a job; it hadn't been all about avoiding my mother. Correction, I wanted this job. I liked working at Manny's. I liked working with Heather.

  He grinned as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, why? You think I'd be pissed or something?"

  I shifted in my seat. "Well…yeah…" But why? That'd been a ludicrous thought, but then I understood. My mom would've been mad. She would've hated the idea, she always did. I slumped even further in my seat. Mason wasn't my mother. He wouldn't want to keep me only to the house or out with the only friends she approved. Lydia and Jessica had gotten Analise's stamp of approval. That ended with disaster. Then a sick feeling came to me, and I looked back over at Mason.

  "What's wrong?" His voice was so quiet. He glanced from me to the road, but he could tell.

  I took another breath. Could I even say this out loud? "My mom liked Lydia and Jessica. Do you think—" I hesitated. I couldn't say it.

  "Do I think…what?"

  But I knew I would always wonder. "Do you think she liked them because they were like her? I mean, they were mean and didn't really care about me."

  His eyes widened a fraction of an inch, but that was his only reaction. The air seemed tense, though, and my gut twisted. I knew why it had changed as soon as I said those words. It was true, and Mason knew it but didn't know how to say those words to me. I shook my head and looked away. "It doesn't matter. I know what you're going to say."

  "No, you don't."

  I nodded. Drawing in a painful breath, I leaned my forehead against the window. I'd been so blind. She had made comments. She always knew that Jeff was a cheater—could she recognize it in him because she was one too? Was that why she liked Jessica most of all? Because she was like her? She hadn't liked Lydia as much—was that because Lydia cared the most for me out of all three of them?

  It was sick. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

  "Hey," Mason spoke. He was cautious.

  My shoulders tightened and bunched around me. "I don't want to talk about that. I really don't."

  "Well, you need to. You sure you have to work tonight?"

  I swung around at his gruff voice. What was he mad about? Even though his eyes weren't on me but on the road, I saw the glimmer of fury there. His jaw clenched and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. I asked, "Are
you mad at me?"

  "What?" He whipped his gaze to me. Then spat out, "No! I'm mad at that bitch you call your mother. Did she pick your friends for you?"

  My stomach dropped. She had.

  He saw my answer, and a disgusted sound came from him. "I can't believe her—no, I can. She's controlling and possessive. That's why she never liked the idea of you and me, because she couldn't control me and because she knew I cared about you. You want to know my guess as to why she liked those two for you?"

  Did I? No, but I knew I needed to.

  He continued as his voice grew savage. "Because she wanted people around you that would hurt you. She wanted them to hurt you because then you'd stay with her. You would never know what else was out there, that there are good people out there. I'm not a saint, I know that, but when I love someone, I love them with everything." A curse ripped from him, and he pulled into Manny's parking lot in a rush of gravel before he braked to a stop. Then he was on my side of the car. His eyes were fierce, but his hands were gentle as they turned me to him. He pressed his forehead against mine. I felt how he was keeping himself in control. He expelled a deep breath. "I want the best for you. I don't want to keep you imprisoned to me. I want you to reach your fullest, find friends who really care about you, get a job that you like. I want you to go to my school and get a track scholarship. I want you to do all of that in spite of your mother, because if she had her way, you'd never go anywhere. She would ruin it."

  I closed my eyes. She would. The truth stabbed me in the gut.

  His hand cupped the side of my face and lifted me up. He whispered, "Look at me."

  A whimper escaped me. His eyes burned with love. The emotion was there, an extra layer to the windows of what he felt. It hurt, but it was the good hurt. Something unlocked inside of me, that was him. I had everything boxed inside, kept away so I wouldn't feel, but with Mason, all I could do was feel. That was because of him, because he loved me. I whispered back, "Thank you."