by S. M. Shade
His hand slides to cover his heart, his mouth falling open as he feigns offense. “I’m a perfect gentleman.”
“I’m sure.”
“Whew, nice car, man!” Ian exclaims as we step up to the curb.
A wide smile spreads across Mason’s face. “I like it. What do you think, Evie?”
“It’s pretty,” I reply with a shrug, running my finger across the deep blue paint. This is the type of car I pictured him driving. “Where’s your sedan?”
“At home.” He grins.
Ian scoffs, shaking his head. “Pretty? Could you be any more of a girl right now? It’s a Corvette. ZR1, right?”
“Yeah, 2013.”
“Awesome.”
“Okay, well, Ian, if you’re done getting a hard on over Mason’s car, we’re going to go.”
Ian flashes Mason a look of commiseration, mumbling, “Women.”
“Mason laughs. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too. Take care of her. She’s one of the good ones.” Ian winks at me while I glare back.
“So, do you think I passed the test?” Mason asks with a wink, pulling out into traffic.
“I think he was willing to sleep with you once he saw your car.”
His tone turns serious. “Do I need to worry about him, Evie? He obviously cares for you.”
He’s jealous? We’ve been out once. “He’s my friend. We’ve known each other since I was ten. I love him to death, but not like that. He doesn’t want me that way, either. He pushed me to go out with you.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “I’ll be sure to thank him, although I’m not thrilled you needed convincing.”
“Well, with your dumpy car and homely face, I’m sure you’re used to it.”
“It’s a curse. I do my best to overcome.” His grin fades a bit as he asks, “You met in foster care?”
“In a group home, yes.”
“How long were you there?”
“In the system? Since I was five. In the home, from age ten until I aged out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine. It’s a common story. Let’s talk about something else. Like how I had no idea I’m dating a world champion fighter.”
“It never came up.”
“No wonder you looked at me like a nutcase when I asked if you fought professionally. You’re famous.”
“Not exactly.” He laughs. “I’m not recognized that often. Only by the MMA fans.”
I notice a small blue gift bag tucked between the seats. “What’s this?”
“Plastic dinosaurs and green army men. I don’t know what he’s into, but for an eight year old, those are a safe bet.” God, this guy is sweet. “What?” he asks, unnerved after I stare at him too long.
“If you’re not careful, I might think you’re a nice guy.”
I’m rewarded with a wicked little smile. “I’ll clear your mind of that notion later when I bend you over and make you scream.”
“That sounds nice.” His head falls back as his laughter fills the car.
* * * *
The kids are gathered around the table when we arrive, just in time to see Matty blow out his candles. His eyes light up when we walk in. “Everly! Did you come to try our cake?”
“And to bring you a little present,” I reply, handing him a small stuffed dog.
“Thanks, it has floppy ears,” he exclaims with a grin.
“You’re welcome. This is my friend, Mason. He wanted to come and wish you a happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Matty repeats, staring up at Mason in awe. I can’t blame the kid. I feel like a shrimp around him and I’m grown. “Dinos! Look, Danny!” A smile brightens his face as he displays his new toys. “And soldiers!”
“Awesome, buddy,” Danny says, ruffling his hair.
After a piece of cake, I spend a few minutes chatting with Stacey, one of the girls counselors. “Good Lord, Ev, where’d you find that wet dream?” she exclaims.
“Shh! His head is big enough.” I give a little nod at her sideways look. “Both of them.” Mason glances up and smirks like he knows we’re talking about him when we start laughing. He’s sitting on his knees surrounded by a clutter of dinosaurs and army men, looking perfectly comfortable playing with Matty and the other two boys.
“I owe him a lasagna for dinner, so I guess we should go. Have you seen Danny? I wanted to see next week’s schedule.”
“He left before we cut the cake. Must’ve had a date.” After the asshole guilted me into coming.
“I’ll just check with him tomorrow.”
The boys groan with disappointment when Mason announces we have to go. “Well, aren’t you Mr. Popular,” I tease as we return to his car.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Aw, don’t be jealous, love. No woman can play soldiers versus the zombie dinosaurs like I can.”
“Zombie dinosaurs?”
“Created from the soldier’s supersonic death rays, duh.” He smiles at me. “I love your laugh, Evie. It’s adorable.”
His sincere compliment catches me off guard and I feel my cheeks flame. His smile widens and he runs his palm across my jaw. “I made you blush.” I’m saved from my struggle to respond when his lips land on mine. The kiss is slow and soft and makes me want to climb into his seat and straddle him. When we break apart, he murmurs, “So sweet.”
I don’t know if he means me, my blush, or the kiss. Not that it matters since I seem to be incapable of speech again. He starts the car and moves us smoothly into the flow of traffic. “So, am I still invited to dinner?”
“And breakfast,” I reply, squeezing his firm thigh.
“Only if you have Cocoa Pebbles.”
“Park in the lot if you’re staying the night,” I advise as we approach my building. “My spots are in row C.”
When he pulls in beside my Mini, I hear him curse. It takes a second for me to register my car is sitting on four flat tires and the windshield is shattered. “What the fuck!” I’m out of the seat and jerking open my driver’s door before Mason can get the keys out of his ignition.
“Evie! Wait, damn it!”
“Someone trashed my car!” Anger streaks through me. Mason comes up beside me as I pick up a piece of paper from the seat. It’s a note, written in bright red ink.
A little warning, bitch. Next time it’ll be your face.
Cold fear trickles down my spine. Who would do this? I don’t have any enemies.
“Evie.” Mason’s voice is calm. “What’s the note say? Give it here.”
I need to deal with this. He needs to go. This isn’t his problem. “I’m sorry, but we need to cut our date short. I need to get a hold of my insurance company and…”
He huffs and snatches the paper from my hands. “I’m calling the police.”
“No, it’s probably some pissed off parent of one of the kids at BTC. They don’t realize I’m not the one keeping them from their kid.”
“It could also be some psycho husband from Striking Back. I don’t give a shit who it is. They know where you live. You need to get inside.” Mason pulls me to my feet and wraps his arm around me, keeping me tucked against him as he hurries us inside. “Are there cameras back here?”
“I have no idea. Slow down, you’re overreacting.”
“Just stay close to me.”
As soon as we’re safely in my apartment—and Mason has checked every room—he’s on the phone to the cops. “They’ll be here in the next hour,” he tells me, obviously frustrated they didn’t consider it an emergency.
“Okay, I may as well throw the lasagna in the oven. I’m starving.” Two officers show up at my door nearly two hours later. They ask a few questions and fill out a report. Mason glares in their direction as they leave.
“Indy’s finest,” he growls. “They were a lot of help.”
“Not much they can do. They dusted the car and the note for fingerprints. There are no cameras back there,” I reply with a yawn.
“I have a security
company that works with me. I’ll put them on it in the morning. They can keep an eye on you, too. You need to be careful, Evie. Keep your phone on you, and don’t go anywhere alone.”
“Mason, it’s sweet you’re so worried about me, but really, you’re overreacting. I don’t need some bodyguard following me around.”
“Fine, but I’m having them investigate.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree. I’m sleepy and it’s easier than arguing.
His face softens. “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Mason watches me with hooded eyes as I strip off my jeans and sweatshirt. Warm hands run up my sides before unclipping my bra and letting it fall to the floor. His lips are on my neck before I can take a breath. “So soft,” he murmurs. “Such beautiful skin.”
God, that voice. I turn around and seal my mouth to his, drinking in his taste as we remove his clothes. A growl rumbles through his chest when I squeeze his ass, and I’m scooped up and placed on the bed. I’ve never had a guy carry me to bed before him, and being swept up in those strong arms is a major turn on.
I lay on my back as he pulls off my lace panties and straddles my thighs, kneeling over me. “You have any clue what you do to me, Evie?” he asks, lust filled eyes sweeping over my body.
“I have a pretty good idea,” I reply, my eyes on the rock hard proof bobbing over me. His eyes slam shut when I sit up and wrap my lips around him. I want to see this sexy confident man lose control. I want him at my mercy, and I get my wish. He’s too big for me to take all of him, but I do my best. Judging by the unrestrained moans and the way air hisses through his clenched teeth, he’s far from disappointed.
I love the way his hands cup my face, his fingers stroking lightly over my cheeks. Before he loses it completely, he pulls back and pushes me back onto the bed. His brow is furrowed as he quickly rolls on a condom, and my legs wrap around his hips, urging him on.
A wicked little half smile curls his lip when his fingers find me soaking wet. “So wet from sucking me,” he teases, and I feel myself flush. I love and hate his dirty talk. No, I love it.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
I barely get the words out before he obeys my order. Oh, does he obey it. It doesn’t feel like fucking this time. Even when he’s pounding into me, his eyes are on mine, and there’s an undeniable connection. It relieves an ache, a loneliness I didn’t even realize I had, and it scares the living shit out of me. I knew he was going to be trouble.
Chapter Five
A persistent buzzing wakes me early the next morning. Whoever is calling me this early is in deep shit. I snatch the vibrating phone from the nightstand and regard it with bleary eyes. I’m met with a picture of a smiling brunette and the words Selena calling. Who? Shit, this isn’t my phone. It’s Mason’s.
Sitting up, I can hear water running. Mason’s in the shower. After one more peek at the brunette’s picture, I return his phone to the table. I really didn’t mean to snoop. It’s none of my business who she is. That’s what I tell myself as I flop back into bed and pull the covers over my head.
I’m tempted to join Mason in the shower, but after last night, I’m pretty sore. I hear his deep chuckle before he crawls under the covers with me. “You really aren’t a morning person, are you?”
“You’ve got me figured out,” I reply, wrapping my arms around him.
“Can I lure you out with waffles? I know a great little café near here.”
“I don’t know. Last time I went there, I was followed by a stalker and his buddies.”
“Brothers,” he corrects.
“What?” I flip the blankets off of us.
“I was there with my brothers, Alex and Parker.”
“It’s unfair for one family to hoard that much hotness.”
He growls and pins me to the bed. “I’m the hot one here. Don’t you forget it.” His stubble rasps against my neck and he nips my earlobe.
“Do you have any sisters?”
“No, all boys.”
Damn it. So much for the brunette being his sister. His tongue traces my ear. “Mmm, okay, waffles it is. Let me get a quick shower,” I say, hopping out of bed before I give in and attack him. “Do you have to get to work?”
“I have an intro class in a couple of hours. What are you doing today?”
“I’m at S.B. from one until four. No idea what they’ll have me doing. The owner’s a tyrant.”
Laughing, he pulls me to my feet. “You should come to my gym this week.”
“Is that a reference to my big ass?”
“Not that kind of gym, Panda. Today, I’m teaching grappling to middle schoolers, but Monday is a fight class with teens and adults.”
“I’d love to come watch you get your ass kicked by adolescents. Oh, by the way, your phone was buzzing,” I inform him, heading into the bathroom.
“Thanks, now hurry up before I take you again.”
I flee the room before he can grab me. Good Lord, but this guy likes to mark me up. There’s a tiny hickey on the side of my neck and another on my boob. For some reason, it makes me smile. I’m smiling at myself in the mirror like a moron when Mason rushes into the room. “Evie, I’m sorry, I have to go to work. I’ll call you, okay?” He drops a quick kiss on my lips.
“Is everything all right?”
He seems flustered, although his eyes still take the time to flow over my nudity before he responds, “Everything’s fine. Remember what you promised. Don’t go anywhere alone, especially at night.” He’s out the door before I can reply.
Stunned, I stare after him for a moment. What the hell was that? He ran out like his hair was on fire and his ass was catching. I continue to run scenarios through my mind as I shower. Was there a problem at Striking Back? He said he had to go to work. Did something happen at his gym? This is going to drive me crazy. The beep of an incoming text message from Amy interrupts my obsessing.
-Meet at Huddleston’s?-
-Be there in thirty minutes.-
It’s almost funny. I guess I get waffles after all.
Amy smiles as I slide into the booth across from her. “I’m going to assume I haven’t heard from you because you’re spending time with that god-like, tattoo covered man.”
“And I’m going to assume the same about Wendy.”
“Spill it, girl,” she insists.
“I’ve spent a couple of nights with him.” I grin as I recount my last week to my friend.
“A picnic, pandas, and hot monkey sex. Bitch, I hate you. You’re making my life look boring. You’d better hang onto this one, Ev. He’s something else.” Her eyebrows raise as she glances at the door. “And speaking of, aren’t those the hotties he was here with last time?”
I turn to see Mason’s brothers settling at a corner table. “They’re his brothers. Alex and Parker.”
“Which is which?”
“No idea,” I reply.
The waitress, Lacey, approaches us, smiling at our laughter. “You girls need to visit more often. You seem to bring the man meat with you.”
“They come here a lot?” I ask.
“Not those two, but the one with the bright eyes was here just yesterday for breakfast. I’d set your sights on one of those two, though, sugar. Bright eyes usually comes in with a Latino chick.”
The picture of Selena flashes before my eyes, and I quickly try to change the subject. “Looks like your new waitress is working out.”
“So far so good. I hope I can keep her. You want your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, glancing at Amy. Her face is pure sympathy. “It’s okay,” I assure her, after Lacey walks away. “We’ve only had a few dates. We haven’t made any promises to each other.”
“Ev, I’ve never seen you talk about a man the way you do him. It’s not okay. Maybe she’s a relative or friend.”
That’s seeming less and less likely. “He couldn’t get out of my apartment fast enough when she called this morning.” I explain his odd be
havior.
Amy squeezes my hand. “Shit, Ev. Men are pigs.”
“I’m aware.”
“We need a night out. Sunday is race day. Let’s go to the track Saturday night.”
“You’re on. Now, tell me how things are going with Wendy.” Amy and I spend an hour catching up before I head to Striking Back.
I hate the dread I feel walking into a place I love. This is why I don’t date those I work with. I’ve had fun with Mason. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous, sweet, funny, and fantastic in bed. He really seemed to be into me too, but it appears I’m one of many.
If he texts or finds me here, I’ll let him know I can’t see him anymore. I usually feel relieved when I make this decision, but for some reason I just feel heavy and tired. It’s ridiculous. I’m in no mood to talk to anyone today. Fortunately, the kids and most of the parents are on a trip to the zoo. I spend a few hours doing laundry and helping prepare meals for the upcoming week. I can’t help but glance at the cameras as I’m leaving.
Was he here today? Was he watching me on the monitors? Is he trying to figure out how to get rid of me, worrying I’ll cause him trouble at work? He doesn’t have to stress over that. I’ve never been the clingy type.
* * * *
It’s been seven days since I heard from Mason. I take that back. When I texted him on Wednesday with the message Hope everything’s okay, I got back this winner, All fine. Busy with work. No talk of having me visit his gym. No flirty funny messages. It’s clear he’s done. I don’t know why I even care. I’d already decided dating him was a bad idea.
What I need is a crazy night out with Amy, and tonight I’m going to get it. The night before the Indy 500 is a party like no other. Thousands of race fans and partiers from all over the country descend on the small neighborhood surrounding the track. The streets are closed to traffic and stuffed with people. Cops patrol, but only focus on the troublemakers. For one night, public intoxication and even public nudity is pretty much ignored. It’s a blast.
Ian shows up at my door as I’m getting ready to go out. “Woo, look at you. Tight jeans and a tighter blouse. Where are you headed?”
“It’s the night before the race!”
