Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

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Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors) Page 115

by Violet Duke


  Of course, he wasn’t there much so it didn’t really matter. But looking at the evidence that Adrianne liked to grow things made him think that having his own plants—rather than the ones in the greenhouse at work that were poked, prodded and manipulated constantly—just for the joy of having them might be really nice.

  And then there was the three hundred and sixty acre farm he owned. Now there was some space for growing things.

  The farm had a really great house too, with a huge porch that would be perfect for a welcome mat and hanging flower baskets. A house that could really be a home. And why not? It had been home to Milt and his large, happy family for more than fifty years. Mason had always felt at home there.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Adrianne unlocking the front door.

  Neither of them said anything as he followed across the threshold and shut the door behind him.

  Before he could speak or reach for her, she walked to the desk and then turned, holding out a pen and notebook. Without a word, he crossed to her and took them. She stepped back and stripped her shirt off.

  Heat surged through him and he felt his erection swell.

  She wore a simple white silky bra, but he could see her nipples pressing against the cups as if beckoning him.

  He knew he had to get the notes down now or never. He flipped the top of the notebook open and began scribbling.

  Adrianne reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms before tossing it away.

  He swallowed hard and paused in his writing, taking in the sight of her full breasts and the pink centers.

  “Keep writing,” she urged.

  He glanced, somehow, from her nipples to the notes on the smooth skin of her stomach. He relived the texture and taste of it under his tongue.

  “Mason, keep writing.”

  He realized his eyes had closed so he took a deep breath and did what she said, somehow making the notes on the paper legible.

  Thankfully, it had been a relatively short note and two equations.

  As he scribbled, she undid the button and zipper on her shorts and let them drop, leaving her only in the black panties. He swore softly, having to cross out some numbers and start again.

  She laughed and moved toward him. “Keep writing.”

  He stared at the paper in front of him, concentrating on getting the note down about checking the oxidation rates.

  She reached for his belt, undoing the buckle as he completed the notation. Then he tossed the notebook and pen to where her bra lay on the floor as she slid his belt free of the loops. He undid the button and zipper as she ran her hands under the bottom of his shirt, then slid them up, palms against his stomach, chest and shoulders, taking the shirt with her. He whipped it off and tossed it.

  “Adrianne,” he groaned when she pressed her lips against his chest. His hands went to her head to hold her there.

  She licked and kissed her way across his chest and up to his right shoulder. When her lips and tongue met the side of his neck and she sucked slightly, he dropped his hands to her butt and lifted her up against his hard shaft.

  “That’s it. Where’s the bed?” he demanded.

  She wrapped her legs around him. “Too far. I’m burning up, Mason. Please.”

  “You want it right here? Like this?” A shudder of lust shook him. Sex was generally like everything else in his life—planned out, done with purpose and about results. Not that it wasn’t great. It really was. He was a huge fan. And the women appreciated the results as well. But it was never out of control. Mason didn’t do out of control.

  Except that he kind of did. Evidently.

  “Yes, now,” she groaned as her breasts rubbed against his bare chest.

  He bent and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. There was nothing purposeful about it—it was simply because he couldn’t not taste her.

  He was going to take Adrianne Scott absolutely any way she wanted, however she wanted.

  “Desk? Wall? Floor?” He managed the series of one-syllable questions as he let his hands slide lower on her ass, his middle fingers slipping under the edges of her panties and up against hot, wet woman.

  He’d never done it against a wall or on a desk, or even on the floor for that matter, but all he really cared about was getting inside of her. From there it would all be fine.

  She gasped. “Couch.”

  He knew the kitchen was to the right, so he turned left. He found the couch and sank down onto it with her straddling his lap. Intending to lay her back, he shifted her slightly, but before he could turn, she reached for and freed his straining erection.

  The feel of her hands on him, bare skin to bare skin made him freeze and drag in a long gulp of air. “Adrianne.”

  “Oh, I like how this makes you sound.” She encircled his aching flesh with her hand and slid up and down the length.

  He tightened his hands on her hips but he couldn’t move otherwise. The sensation of her stroking him was so intense he wanted to shout but couldn’t find the air.

  “I love how this feels. How you make me feel. How I want to do everything with you,” she said, continuing to move her hand up and down on him. She pressed her lips to the base of his throat. “I want to ride you. I want you on top and behind.”

  He groaned and she sucked his earlobe into her mouth.

  “And I want to eat ice cream with you,” she went on. “And watch TV and dance and tell jokes…it’s crazy and it’s the most unexpected thing, but I love it.”

  Her words nearly overwhelmed him. He’d been with women who talked during sex before, but this was different. There was true emotion in her words, not explicit talk to turn him—or her—on. She wasn’t telling him what she liked or wanted, she was telling him how she felt, how he made her feel, and it was powerful. In typical Adrianne fashion, she was giving him the real her, the nitty gritty, unembellished.

  “That you’re here with me like this, that you want me, that you’re letting me do this—” she stroked him again with the perfect pressure, making his eyes cross with lust, “—is so awesome.”

  There it was again. That feeling that she really thought he was special, that this was special, that she liked him so much. It was more of an aphrodisiac than anything.

  “I need to be inside you, Ad,” he said gruffly. “Lie back.”

  “No, like this.” She lifted herself slightly and he felt her hand leave him and then return to roll a condom in place. She did it with remarkable dexterity, and he knew he didn’t want to know how she’d gotten so good at that. Then she pulled her panties to one side and sank back down…taking him deep within her.

  The feeling of sliding home, into the sweetest, hottest thing he’d ever felt, was almost too much. He gripped her hips, holding her in place, gritting his teeth. This was where he was supposed to be. The thought was stunning and he needed a moment, a second, to grasp some control so that he could do this right. But the urge to lift his hips, thrust hard and deep, was so compelling that his buttocks flexed in spite of his attempt at restraint.

  Adrianne moaned from even that small motion. She leaned forward, dropping her forehead to his shoulder.

  The movement made them both groan.

  He seemed to fill her completely, stretch her to the point of exquisite pleasure, a perfect fit.

  “Yes, Mason, please move. Do something. I need this. Make this…craving go away.”

  He knew exactly what she meant. “Okay, honey, hang on tight.” He lifted his hips, thinking there was no room to slide any deeper. But he’d been wrong. To be sure, he pulled out and thrust again.

  Adrianne put her hands on his shoulders and started to move with him, lifting herself up and down, meeting his thrusts.

  He watched her as she moved. Her head tipped back, h
er back arched, her lips were parted and she lifted her hands to cup her breasts.

  “I can help there.” He leaned in and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder as her tempo picked up.

  “Mason,” she groaned.

  His name on her lips like that, with that needy, almost desperate sound, made him want to do it to her again and again, over and over, for days, weeks, years on end.

  “Ad, you’re so…God, you’re…everything,” he said gruffly, surging upward as she came down.

  She held his head in both hands and kissed him, hot, wet, wild. Then she tore her mouth free and cried out as she came.

  He definitely wanted to hear and see that for the rest of his life.

  The realization, combined with her look of ecstasy he was very proud to have created was enough to push him over the edge. He felt the heat and pressure build and burst into her. The only woman he ever wanted to be with again.

  She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder again, neither of them moving. Their breathing quieted, their heart rates came back down and still they stayed as they were.

  “Holy crap,” she finally said against his chest.

  He laughed and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Poetic, Ad.”

  She lifted her head and gave him a grin. “Sorry. But wow.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “I mean…that sounds dumb and it’s not like I was a virgin but—”

  He squeezed her butt. “You can skip the part where you tell me about all the other guys, okay?”

  She tipped her head to one side. “Really? It really bothers you that I’ve been with other men?”

  Mason swallowed. How could he tell her all he was feeling? It made absolutely no sense. For him to feel possessive and like she belonged with him, to him, that he looked at her and thought mine, that he wanted to be there for every birthday and Christmas and when she was sick and every time she smiled or cried or orgasmed—well, it was crazy. They barely knew one another, had spent only a few hours together and it was illogical to feel the things he was feeling.

  Illogical was difficult for him. Things that didn’t have proof and something he couldn’t explain made him suspicious.

  But here, with her, it was true.

  He felt like he’d been late in getting to her and it was incredibly unfair that he’d missed out on so much with her.

  “Adrianne, I think there’s something I need to tell you.”

  She looked concerned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  He was counting on her to think that what he was about to say—because he couldn’t not say it—was not good. Was, in fact, insane. He knew that the connection, this chemistry, this craziness wasn’t one-sided, but maybe Adrianne would be more rational about it and would insist that it was too fast and too incredible. She might be able to convince him that it wasn’t real, that it was a combination of physical attraction, nostalgia being home again and the fact that it was a fling—fun and unimportant in the overall scheme of things.

  She pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her, sliding off his lap. “Do I need to be dressed for this conversation?” she asked.

  If he had his way, she’d never be dressed again. “You’re not going to be dressed for the next several hours, honey.”

  She seemed relieved at that. She grabbed a tissue box from the end table and handed it to him. He took care of the condom and pulled his underwear and pants back together but didn’t fasten them. He turned to face her. She was leaning against the arm of the couch, the blanket tucked under her arms.

  “Adrianne, I think you should know that—”

  “You’re leaving,” she said. Then she sighed. “I know. It’s not like I thought you were going to stay here with me forever.”

  Stay here with me forever. The words hit him directly in the chest.

  It was what he wanted.

  He had a farm here that he loved. He wanted to plant and grow and dig in the dirt. He wanted to go to the annual festival and have a welcome mat and…Adrianne.

  He stared at her. Fuck. How had this happened in two days? How was this even possible? He didn’t want to go back to Chicago?

  But he didn’t even have to think about it. He didn’t. He believed in what they did there, but he didn’t have to be in Chicago to do it. He could be anywhere. He could oversee experiments anywhere, he could conduct team meetings virtually, he communicated with many members of their team via computer anyway, and he could fly out of the Omaha airport. There was no reason he had to be in Chicago instead of Sapphire Falls.

  And there were a few really good reasons to be in Sapphire Falls instead of Chicago.

  “I want to stay,” he said simply.

  Her smile slowly shrank and her eyes got wide. “What?” she whispered.

  “I want to stay.” He lifted a shoulder. “Sapphire Falls is, surprisingly, more appealing than anything in Chicago.”

  “You want to stay…for a few more days?” she asked.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she sounded almost hopeful. He frowned. “You only want a few more days?”

  She stared at him, the blanket gripped in her fist against her chest.

  “I want a hell of a lot more than that, Adrianne. I want to have sex with you in every position possible, but I want more than that.”

  “What are…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Like what?”

  “Everything.”

  “Everything?” she repeated, her voice nearly a squeak.

  “I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “I know it. I love that you get me. I love that you’re so genuine and accepting—not just of me but of everyone. You try to make Hailey look good even when she’s being selfish and flaky. You smile at Drew even when he’s being annoying. You make gourmet candy for all the guys even though they have no appreciation for anything gourmet. You don’t try to change anyone. You let them be who they are.”

  He shifted so that he could lean closer to her, let her see the truth in his eyes. “You’re so happy and content. You’ve figured out what you want and you’ve found it. I want to be near your…energy. I want that real, open satisfaction that you’ve found.”

  The only place he’d ever felt even close to that had been in Haiti and on the farm here in Sapphire Falls. And now with Adrianne.

  It was ironic that his sanctuary was in the midst of the last place he thought he ever wanted to be. Part of his haven was this woman who loved this town and was in the middle of everything that happened here.

  Sapphire Falls was different with Adrianne here.

  For instance, he’d gotten to make out in Herschfield House. He even kind of liked poker.

  “So I’m staying,” he said resolutely.

  She swallowed. “Whoa.”

  He waited for a few seconds. “That’s it? Whoa?”

  “We hardly know each other.”

  “I’m not saying it makes sense.”

  “But I—”

  “We’ll get to know each other,” he said, cutting her off. “Because I’m staying and I don’t want to wake up without you. Unless there’s a really good reason for us not to be together, you better be okay with sleeping naked.”

  He’d said it firmly, with a frown, but she looked turned on. And completely shocked.

  But slowly her mouth spread into a smile. “I sleep in a silk nightie with no underwear. Will that work?”

  He shook his head, still frowning even as relief spread through him. “Nope. You’ll have to lose the nightie.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said with mock e
xasperation. “If you’re going to insist.”

  “Oh, I’m going to insist.” He shifted, moving so he could cover her body with his. “I’m also going to insist on you getting rid of that blanket and spreading your sweet legs for me again right now, because I need you, Ad. I really need you.”

  IN THE MIDDLE of the night, they lay spooning on the couch, Mason behind her sleeping, his arms around her and the blanket over them both. In spite of being well spent physically, Adrianne was wide awake, her mind reeling.

  Holy crap.

  Not poetic, but fitting.

  Mason wanted to stay. In Sapphire Falls.

  She pulled in a long, slow breath and pressed her hand over the familiar spot on her chest.

  This was crazy. Completely, utterly insane.

  He made her heart pound with the things he did, said, who he was. But worse, now he said he wanted to stay.

  Nothing had made her heart pound like that idea did.

  And the fact that she wanted him to.

  Because the discomfort in her chest now was only the beginning.

  Because it would never work. He couldn’t leave Chicago and everything he had and did there to move to Sapphire Falls. Sapphire Falls had nothing for Mason. Okay, he thought part of what he wanted was her, but that couldn’t be true. This kind of stuff didn’t really happen in the real world. People didn’t meet, fall in love and live happily ever after in the span of two days.

  He was drunk on the nostalgia of home, the feeling of fitting in, the idea of getting the girl.

  She understood and part of her was thrilled to be a part of that for him. She liked him, so she was glad his homecoming was good.

  But she was to the point now where his leaving was really going to hurt. And that was before he’d tempted her with the idea of his staying.

  She felt his lips moving over the back of her bare shoulder and his thickening erection pressing into her butt. A shiver went through her as her whole body heated. She had never wanted sex like this. Right now, after three orgasms she still felt needy, like there was a hunger that hadn’t been satisfied yet, an itch that desperately needed scratched.

 

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