by Vonnie Davis
“I’ll go wash up awhile, Mason. Then I’ll set the table.”
“Okay, baby.”
She closed the door to the bathroom and rested her face against the wood. Mason called her “baby” as if their having a relationship was a decided fact. He’d talked to his sister about her and the flower mix-up. Had told one of his nephews he’d kissed her “wipstick” off—and how cute was “wipstick?” It was as if the whole family was sucking her in.
She turned and gasped. A giant Spiderman graced the closed shower curtain. This whole condo reeked of testosterone. Even the toothbrush holder had Spidey on it. “Uncle Mason, you surprise me,” she whispered. She never imagined he had a soft side to him, an indulgent side.
Once she returned to the kitchen and dining area, Mason’s laptop was gone from the table. Blue placemats were in its place and candles were lit. Square black plates and silverware were stacked beside wine glasses, waiting for her to finish setting the table. Christmas music played softly.
“Gee, candlelight, music, and everything. I’m getting the full treatment tonight.”
A kiss landed on the back of her neck and tremors of sexual awareness skimmed across her skin. Her nipples peaked. He had a sensual effect on her every time he touched her.
“You have no idea what I have planned for tonight.”
Old insecurities crept in. He’d find her as lacking as Seth had. “Mason, don’t expect me to spend the night with you.”
His arms wrapped around her waist. “I told you, you can have the boys’ room, if you dig Spiderman. I was thinking more along the lines of a game of checkers.” His body shook with silent laughter.
She elbowed his ribs. “You are so full of it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Mason took off his apron before he carried over the loaf of garlic bread and the large bowl of his pasta creation. This was nice. Having Ciera here in his space, teasing her, cooking for her. She was the first woman, besides his mother and sister, he’d ever brought to his condo.
He always preferred going to the woman’s place so he could leave when he was ready. Besides, if the women didn’t know where he lived, there’d be no after break-up drama at his door. Which was why he typically went the “friends with benefits” route—until Ciera with the cobalt eyes and the saucy, yet sympathetic attitude captured his heart.
Dinner was a relaxing event. They talked about work, shared parts of their past, and sipped wine. The sleet had changed to snow earlier and accumulation was visible on the branches of the tall pines outside his bay window where they are. Ciera loved his pasta which pleased him. He’d thawed two pieces of cheesecake he kept in the freezer for dessert.
He entwined his fingers with hers as their conversation flowed. “This is nice, isn’t it? I can’t recall enjoying a meal so much. Not even Emma’s first birthday when she dived face first into her birthday cake. Icing in her hair, over her face, the lacy dress Eva Marie had picked out special for her daughter’s big day. The boys and I laughed so hard. Thank God Sean was home to see it.”
“I guess he misses a lot of milestones being away so much.” She turned her fork over and licked away the cheesecake stuck on the bottom of the tines. An innocent gesture on her part, but so damn sexy to watch. Hell, even his cock rose to take a peek and twitched in approval at the red sweater she wore, snug over her breasts.
“Yes. When my babies start coming, I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Oh? You plan on having children? Do you have a mother in mind or will you be picking at random?” She smiled and tilted her head in question.
He could only imagine her smile fading if he told her she was going to be the mother of his children if he had anything to do with it. Tonight was only the beginning of what he hoped would be a long relationship. His hope was Ciera would feel the same way.
“I’ll be thirty in a couple months. I’m ready to settle down, have a family. I’m hoping for a woman who loves me as much as I love her.”
She nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. Are we rinsing the plates off and loading the dishwasher?”
This was her typical change of topic when she felt uncomfortable with whatever he’d said. His hopes plummeted. How would he ever get her to see him romantically? Was he making real progress with her, or not? He stood and picked up his plates. “Yeah. I’ve already got the pans and strainers in there. You rinse and I’ll load.”
Mason had just closed the dishwasher and pushed the start button when the power went out. Ciera gasped and his arm snaked out to coil around her, bringing her to his chest. “It’s okay, baby.” He kissed her head. “I’ve got you. Hold on while I get a flashlight out of my junk drawer. The ice must be hanging heavy on power lines somewhere. At least we’ve got the glow and heat from the gas fireplace. We’ll be fine as long as we stay in there.”
He got the flashlight and, using the beam, led her into the living room. They moved the coffee table in front of the sliding doors, so they could lean back against the sofa. He went for a couple quilts and pillows to pad the floor. Along the way, he snagged a couple more flashlights, so they each had one plus a spare in case the batteries went dead on one. The front pocket of his jeans contained three condoms…hey, a man could always hope.
“Let’s take our boots off before we crawl onto the quilts.” He spread one out and tossed the pillows against the front of the sofa so they could sit on the floor, watch the fire, and talk. She unzipped her red boots and set them aside as he unlaced his. It was obvious she wasn’t so crazy about his idea of snuggling in front of the fire since she sat a foot away from him.
He reached under the sofa and pulled out the checkers game, placing it on the blanket between them.
Her mouth gaped. “You aren’t serious!”
“Well, you look like you’re afraid I’ll rape you, so I figured this would be our best alternative. Obviously, you still don’t trust me. Or maybe you just find me repulsive?”
She exhaled a long sigh and some of the tension seemed to flow from her body. “Of course I don’t find you repulsive. In fact, it scares me how quickly I react to your touch.”
Her remark stroked his ego and he brought the open hand she rested on her jean-clad thigh to his lips for a kiss. He touched the middle of her palm with the tip of his tongue and chuckled as her irises darkened.
She eased her hand from his clasp. “As for trusting you…I don’t trust men easily.”
“Because of your ex-husband?” Damn the bastard for what he’d done to her.
“Well, when you think you know a man better than anyone else and then find out you never knew him at all, it forces you to question your judgment about everyone in your life. You look at each person differently, male and female, because you no longer trust your reaction to people.”
“Go on.” He sensed there was more, so much more.
She fluffed her pillow and shifted a little closer. “Our marriage was a happy one, or so I thought. We had similar interests—boating and scuba diving. Both of us taught school. He was at Beecham High, teaching math. I was a health and gym teacher at Jefferson Middle School. We had a fairly active sex life. To find out he was fascinated with touching young girls was like someone telling me the grass was orange. I couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it.” As if she couldn’t remain still while she talked about it, she sat, raised her knees, and leaned forward to wrap her arms around them.
“When the rumors first leaked, I was loyal to him. Defended him because I believed in my husband. After he was formally charged, I asked him why. Do you know what he said? ‘I wasn’t responsive enough. He needed more to satisfy his urges.’ He put all the blame on me.”
Mason wrapped one of her soft dark curls around a finger. “He was the one lacking, baby, not you. A grown man does not touch young teenagers in a sexual manner. Makes no difference if he’s married, or not. Hell, to blame you is so totally wrong.”
She raised her chin from the top of her knees and pinned him with an apprehensive stare, as
if she didn’t totally believe his words. In the glow of the firelight, her eyes shimmered a bright blue and he was lost.
“You might be right, Mason, but the seed of doubt has been planted. The concern is very real in my mind that I’m not sexy enough to satisfy a man. That’s why I don’t date. Ever.”
“You’re missing out on a great part of life.”
She released a sigh. “I suppose you date a lot.”
“Not as much as I used to.” Not since meeting you. He’s better keep that nugget of truth to himself. He’d scare her off for sure. “I usually stick to a few friends I have.” He ran a hand down her arm and shrugged a shoulder. “You know, friends with benefits.”
Her forehead furrowed. “That works for you?”
Aw hell, he’d backed himself into a corner with that remark. He was so at ease with Ciera, the words just tumbled out. “I’m a single man, who until recently, didn’t want a commitment. For that phase of my life, friends with benefits worked. I’m entering a different phase now.”
“I won’t be one of your friends with bennies.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be very different.”
She scoffed. “You men will say anything to get a quick lay. But here’s the thing, if we have sex, I’m afraid you’ll find out how lousy I am as a woman. Then I’ll have to face you every day at work.” Tears glistened. “I don’t think I could handle that. This evening has been great. Every minute has been fun. I’m afraid sex will ruin it.”
He stared at her. Could she really believe what she was saying? Not sexy enough? Hell, she had him so tied up in knots—and had for months—he thought he’d lose his mind if he didn’t soon get inside her and make her his.
“Would you let me hold you close?” He slid the checker game under the sofa again, scooted further down the quilt shifting the pillow behind his head, and held out his arms for her. She studied him for a minute. “I’ll keep you warm. Promise. I’ll also get your mind off your ex.” He winked.
“You can be so arrogant, at times. And I can be so weak where you’re concerned.” She rolled into his arms, her head on his shoulder, and he laid a leg across hers inhaling her delicate floral scent. He was addicted to her fragrance.
“Baby, I was in Special Forces. We majored in arrogance.”
She laughed against his neck. “Heathen.”
“Yup, I can be one of those, too, if the need arises.” He rolled on top of her, tucking her beneath him. “Right now, I’m thinking more of banisher. I’m going to banish those doubts and fears from your mind. See, I’ve kissed you a few times and your response was sensual. Hot as fuck. Seriously, my cock bore the imprint of my zipper for hours. So, I already know you can respond—and turn me on.”
He kissed her neck between every sentence. Damn, she was practically purring. If those sweet noises she made weren’t driving him insane, the feel of her beneath him was doing it, because he was most definitely a hardened mass of turned-on male.
His lips covered hers. Her lips, soft and sensual, parted on a moan and his tongue swept in to lay claim. She tasted of wine, dark and rich, and the sweetness of cheesecake. He was a man of few weaknesses, but this woman of many moods, textures, and tastes was one of them. He’d accepted it long ago. What he hadn’t dealt with was how far he was prepared to allow this craving to control him.
At this moment, his main concern was giving Ciera pleasure like she’d never had before. He’d show her she could function and satisfy as a woman—no matter how slowly the process took. No matter how blue his balls got in the process, her pleasure had to be paramount.
He bit her lower lip and then soothed it with his tongue. His teeth grazed a trail along her jawline and down the column of her throat. Meanwhile his hand slipped under her sweater to discover satiny, smooth skin that trembled at his touch.
“Mason.” Her fingers splayed into his hair and scratched his scalp.
“Ciera, baby, everything you do turns me on. Every aspect of your femininity stirs me up. I’ve wanted you for so damn long.” His lips captured hers again. God, he desired this woman. So much so he hadn’t sought another female of late to relieve his sexual needs. His whole being was focused on Ciera who was different…special in every way…deserving of being cherished.
He sat and pulled her up with him. “Let me take your sweater off. I can’t kiss you all over with this mountain of yarn between us.” He removed it and then tugged off the sweatshirt he wore, tossing it over his shoulder. They sat looking at each other. Well, she looked; he devoured. Holy mother of God, she was beautiful in the red, lacy bra she damn near overflowed.
Cool fingers rose to trace his skin and he reveled in her touch. Her fingertips circled a large spot. “What’s this dimple, Mason?”
“A bullet wound from Fallujah.” An inch closer and it would have exploded his heart.
She leaned closer and kissed the scar. “You must be a brave man. I can’t imagine being shot so far away from home without your family to look after you.”
“I had my brothers. Your special forces team becomes your family.”
Her hands swept across his shoulders and down his back until she felt another scar. She shifted her body off his lap, moving behind him to get a better view. “This is a long scar.”
“Knife fight in Columbia. We were doing an extraction of a journalist who’d been captured.” Warm lips trailed along the scar and he leaned back just a little to fully absorb the tribute she paid him.
“I think I’ll start calling you Hero,” she murmured between kisses. Her hands continually stroking his skin.
He expelled a shuddering breath. God, she could be so caring. “That’s an improvement over what you’ve been calling me.” He reached back to hook an arm around her. She was bent on touching every part of him. Their positions being what they were he couldn’t do the same to her and that would never do.
He pulled her onto his lap, so she straddled him. His fingers slowly trailed across the swells of her breasts. Her eyelids closed, her dark eyelashes fanning her face like angel’s wings. The bra she wore was made of sheer red lace. Her dark nipples peeked through the delicate material. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tugging it down her arms as his gaze focused on her breasts. Holy fuck. She’s sexy as hell.
His hands cupped her warm, ample breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples. A low moan of approval and want rose from her throat. Her head fell back in need, offering her breasts up for his enjoyment like a sacrificial satiny offering of flesh. He lowered his head and ran his tongue around a nipple before he drew it into his mouth.
“Mason—”
He released her nipple. “I got you, baby.” And his mouth shifted to her other nipple, paying it equal homage while his hands splayed across her back. “You are so beautiful. So freaking beautiful, love.”
“Don’t…don’t call me ‘love.’ We both know you don’t mean it.”
But he did. He didn’t know when he’d fallen. If it was shortly after Ciera had started working at the communications center two years ago. Or perhaps months later, when he’d walked into her workspace to see tears coursing down her face. She was in the middle of giving instructions and encouragement to a mother giving CPR to her teenaged-child she’d found on the bathroom floor, OD’d on drugs. Or the day she’d chewed him out for being in a foul mood. She’d flat-out told him he had so much to be thankful for. God, he loved her spunk. Or the afternoon, this past summer, when she’d smiled at him for no reason and stolen his breath. There were so many memories of her behavior impacting him; each one had her worming her way deeper into his heart. So what exact moment had he fallen? He hadn’t a clue. Yet he was positive she was the only one for him.
He gently spread her across the quilt and opened her jeans, pulling them off to find she wore a red lace thong—as if he needed anything else to turn him on. “I’ll call you whatever you want. Just don’t tell me how to feel.” Her eyes were wide with apprehension. He kissed her soft lips, his tongue quickly swe
eping across them. “Don’t be afraid. We’ll take it slow. Give me a chance to show you how desirable you are.” He popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them, shucking them off in one smooth motion. Then he lay next to her, his erection tenting his knit boxers. His arms enveloped her and he kissed her again, pulling her flush against him.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and her bare legs entwined with his. Soft breasts molded against his pecs. Warm, hardened nipples branded his chest. His hand swept along the silkiness of her toned thigh and he groaned in appreciation. Ciera was beautiful everywhere, inside and out.
She trembled in his arms as his teeth grazed along her jaw, nipped at her earlobe, and skimmed the length of her neck. There were kisses and tiny bites along the way. Bites he soothed with his tongue. At the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he repeated, “Baby, baby, baby” like a lover’s chant while he alternately kissed and nipped her velvety skin. He shifted back to her mouth and kissed her again, softly this time while their tongues slowly touched and swept across each other. This was deliberate seduction at its best because it was with her, the woman he loved.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ciera couldn’t think about becoming one of his many friends with benefits. Not when what he was doing to her felt so freaking fantastic. It had been years since she’d been touched and held and made to feel desirable. Dear God, she needed this.
Even if it was only for one night.
And how pathetic did that sound?
She had to trust that Mason wasn’t the kind to screw and spread the word afterward. Things could get very uncomfortable at work.
His hands and mouth moved down her chest and her eyes fluttered shut on a sigh. Holy hell, the man knew how to play a woman’s body. If ever she’d felt like a Strativarius violin with the strings being tightened, now was the time. His tongue dipped into her belly button and circled around it before his kisses played a sultry seduction tune across and down her abdomen. Tension coiled and she focused on the orgasm building in her core.
