by Casey Hagen
“What’s in that door?” Jasmine asked nodding toward the middle of the hallway wall.
“That’s the next guest room.”
“And the one beyond that?” Jasmine questioned.
“My room,” Mason said with his face screwed up with a grimace.
“Ahh, okay, so I’ll just take this one then,” Jasmine stepped in and pushed the door open before Mason could. “Good night, kiddies,” she gave a cutesy wave and closed the door.
Subtle, Jasmine. Subtle.
Lily walked over to the next door…the door closest to Mason’s bedroom. “I guess that means I’m in this one,” she said wrapping her fingers around the handle.
“Lily…wait.” He slid his hand in his pocket. “Leanne let us take Mara’s phone. Just be careful. They want it back.”
She took the phone from him. The minute her fingers made contact with the smooth case, a surge of energy moved through her, making her gasp.
“What is it?”
“Not a vision. Just energy. I feel her energy when I hold this.”
“Is that a good sign?”
“I don’t know. It’s a new sensation for me. It’s weird, all of these new capabilities are popping up, but with some things, I still have blind spots.”
Mason’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, blind spots?”
She wished she hadn’t brought it up. Especially since it only happened with his sister’s case. He hadn’t brought her up after Lily confronted him about her the night they met and that was just as well, because she had no idea what to say to him if he started asking questions. She didn’t want a lie between them, and if she told him the truth, any chance of a “them” would be annihilated.
“Just sometimes the visions don’t play out in sequence or are incomplete. It doesn’t happen often. It doesn’t usually matter.”
“Until now, when a life is on the line,” Mason said, nodding with understanding.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “If you don’t mind. I’m going to shower and see if I can get anything to come of this.”
She held her breath when his hand reached out to her face, catching a tendril of hair curling along her temple. His warm finger, just barely grazing her skin made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Her blood sang, from head to toe. He tucked the hair behind her ear, grazing the sensitive shell. “Go get comfortable. Let me know if you come up with anything. Any detail at all, even if it doesn’t seem like it matters.”
“Yes, uh, I’ll do that,” she murmured.
“Good night, Lily.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She expected a hot, commanding kiss like the others he’d given her. The caring and affection of a forehead kiss sent her reeling. She reminded herself not to make it any more than it was, but for the first time, her boy treated her as if he cherished her, much in the way she cherished him for so many years.
Tears stung her eyes, but he’d already turned away so she didn’t worry about hiding them. Instead she ducked into the room, closed the door, and leaned back against it letting the hot tears flow down her cheeks. The best way to get into the right frame of mind to help Mara was to let the emotions flow out of her in a cathartic release.
She slid down until her butt hit the floor, desperate for a rest. She cried for Leanne and Adam. She cried for Mara. She cried for Mason and all the things it was too late to tell him.
When no more would come, she jumped into the private bath and stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the hot beads dissolve away her sins.
Deciding she had spent enough time wallowing, she turned off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and climbed into the center of the bed, holding the phone in her hands. She concentrated on her breathing, turning the device over and over between her palms.
The brushed texture of the back of the case tickled her skin. She imagined Mara’s thumbs as she had seen them traveling over the screen, a soft smile playing over her lips. She recalled the sound of her voice in the park, playing it on repeat in her head.
Thirty minutes had passed and nothing. Her focus shifted to the feel of the towel secured over her breast, the way the terrycloth brush her nipples, the cool air meeting her dewy skin, and awareness of Mason’s presence, just one wall away.
She took three seconds to think better of what she really wanted to do before she tossed logic away, ducked out the door, and headed for his room.
She quietly knocked and waited. Hearing nothing from the other side of the door, she wondered if she should knock again, but then was too embarrassed. What if he was sleeping and didn’t really want her?
Okay, that was stupid. He wanted her.
She raised her hand to knock and the door opened, leaving her swinging into thin air. Off balance by the surprise, she teetered forward right into Mason’s bare arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a laugh.
She locked her fingers on his biceps to steady herself while trying to ignore how large they were under her palms.
“Yes, just humiliated.”
“Don’t be. Did you need something?” he asked, rubbing a lock of her damp hair between his fingers. His eyes roamed over her exposed collar bone and narrowed. His already dark eyes turned into charcoal depths of pure desire.
She had put that look in his eyes.
He’s the only man she ever wanted to have look at her that way. The only man she ever felt she could be vulnerable with. Maybe that’s because they weren’t on a level playing field because she had the advantage of years of watching him.
Maybe it was selfish. She probably shouldn’t admit it, but the thought of his being at such a huge disadvantage, wanting her anyway, emboldened her in a way that nothing else had. Not even graduating from college, paying off her loans, and buying her first car and first home could compare to the confidence his attraction gave her.
Before she lost her nerve, she grasped the hand in her hair and intertwined her fingers with his.
He searched her gaze as she brought up her other hand and grasped the knot of her towel. His lips parted as she pulled the fabric loose letting the towel slip smoothly to the floor at her feet.
“Lily,” he whispered.
His chest expanded with a deep breath. Muscles rippled. His dark chest hair called to her fingers to touch and explore. He had scars. Scars she didn’t expect to see. They told her the story of a man who didn’t always go to work wearing a suit and tie. They were marks of a warrior. Several of which she’d seem him get over the years.
His gaze danced over her bare skin, making her fight the urge to cover herself. The lamplight spilling into the doorway cast a cozy glow making her skin gleam, hiding all the parts of her body she hadn’t come to term with yet.
Of course with the way Mason bit his lip and his nostrils flared, she might have to reconsider those areas.
“Invite me in, Mason.”
He grasped her wrist, pulled her in, shut the door, and backed her up to it, holding her wrist high over her head.
Helpless to do anything else, she looked up at him and waited, but he didn’t keep her waiting long.
With his free hand, he cupped her jaw, holding her there, while he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. His tongue traveled over hers, teasing, tasting, taking all of her, leaving her marked for life.
With the all-consuming contact, he touched every part of her from head to toe, all through what he did to her lips with his capable mouth.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs.
Her breast ached to be touched.
She thrust her hips, seeking, searching, needing him to touch her.
To take her.
He pulled back and dragged the hand from her chin, down the curve of her neck, over her collar bone and found her breast.
It begged to be touched, the nipple hard, sensitive, ready. She needed this. She needed to know how this felt… with him.
Only him.
“So pretty,” he said before lett
ing go of her wrist, dropping to his knees before her, and sucking the tight peak of her aching breast into his hot, wet mouth.
She whimpered with the pressure. Sinking her hands into his hair, she held him to her while he laved both nipples, going back and forth, making her crazy.
Until he dropped down farther and kissed the center of her and blew her mind. He licked into her over and over. His tongue explored with sure strokes. The sharp sensation began to build in her core until she thought she might die without release.
His fingers parted her, teased her, and slid inside her just far enough that her muscles clenched and seized with pleasure so sharp and distinct, she might just slide to the floor into a puddle of pure bliss.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’m not done with you yet.” With those words, he hitched her over his shoulder and carried her to his king-sized bed.
She sunk into the comforter waiting to see what he had planned for her next. She wanted to take him in her mouth and drive him just as wild as he made her.
He flicked his towel off his hip and stood at the foot of the bed, hard, hot, and ready. She glanced between his legs to where he jutted out, the head of his cock glistening.
“What do you plan to do to me?” she asked.
“What don’t I plan to do to you might be the better question.”
She smiled at his hungry expression. She didn’t know what to do now…or what to say. She did the only thing she could remember seeing a woman do during a lull like this, where man and woman assessed one another to figure out how to give maximum pleasure.
Lily slowly made her way to her breast. She swirled the nipple with her own fingertip and clenched her legs together at the hot sensation building there.
He growled low in his throat, but didn’t make a move.
That had to be good, right?
Unsure, but committed to her new courage and his obvious desire, she slid her hand between her own legs and found the spot there he had worked with his mouth.
With just a few slides of her fingers, she panted out her breaths, scared to bring herself to the brink, but wanting to make him happy.
Heat built, desire coiled tight in her gut, and her legs snapped shut as she cried out. So much pleasure, everywhere, leaving her thrashing in the middle of his bed.
“Jesus, Lily.”
Her legs fell open. Her vision blurred as she lay there enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure.
She heard his nightstand and the tearing of a packet. Before she could process, before she could warn him, he climbed between her thighs, hooked his hands behind her knees, and thrust deep inside her.
She screamed as a quick sharp pain tore through her, quickly turning to a throb and then dull ache.
He froze above her. His eyes softened. “Lily, why didn’t you tell—”
“It doesn’t matter. Just don’t stop.”
He nestled between her legs, holding himself up on his elbows, and kissed her. “It matters. I should have been more careful, more romantic. I would have gone slow, given you time to adjust. Shit. I had you pinned against the door while I went down on you. Shit,” he said as he started to pull away.
She wrapped her arms around his back holding him there. “No, don’t leave me. I just wanted you. It was always meant to be you.”
“How is that possible?”
“My boy,” she whispered. “It’s fate.”
He rained kisses over her face, then worked his way over her breasts, kissing and nibbling, building up the heat all over before he started to slide in and out of her.
The pain subsided, leaving her full of him, and complete in a way she never had been before.
With his mouth on her breast, he reached between them, his fingers swirling over that magic spot, until she writhed beneath him, frantic with need.
When the heat and pleasure balanced on the edge of sweet pain took her, he pumped into her harder.
With a low groan he thrust once, twice, and on the third, buried himself to the hilt as he lost control with a lusty shout.
They lay spent in a tangle of limbs, their heavy breathing filling the air. He tucked her alongside him while he ran his hand up and down the length of her back and over her hip, soothing her. She drifted off with her mind finally at rest.
Chapter 10
The image came to her with a break in it like the partial eclipse of the sun. A massive, steel door slid open, the metal grinding against the track. Three men, clad in dirty jeans, stained shirts, with guns in their hands, made their way in. One reached out and grabbed an arm, but the hostage’s body was hidden behind the break in the vision.
The arm was definitely that of a young girl, judging by the slimness. She reached out as if to clear away the obstruction in the vision. Not that it would do any good.
It never did.
Curtis Downs was nowhere to be seen, but then, maybe Mason’s team had just picked him up, and the word had gotten back to the men he was working for, so they decided to move Mara.
It made sense.
Lily watched the men as they threw a pillowcase over Mara’s head and dragged her out of the room. Lily squinted to find anything of use outside her vantage point through the open door. All she saw was a storage container with Berks in red along the side. Fear and the pressure of an overwhelming urgency filled Lily and had her shooting right up in bed.
She reached and arm over to Mason’s side and found cool sheets.
He’d left?
She glanced to the door and started to look around.
“I’m over here,” he said from the chair next to his bedroom window. He sat on the arm, his arms crossed, his jaw clenching in the pale moonlight.
“I have something on Mara.” A strange tension vibrated in the room. For a split second she thought to go to him and then changed her mind.
“Yeah, what is it?”
She told him what she’d seen, but his face never changed. He stayed where he was, his eyes never leaving hers. If she didn’t know better, by the soreness in her spent body, she would swear she was dreaming.
This wasn’t her boy.
***
He picked up his phone and dialed Garrett.
“Mason, I was just about to call you. We’ve got Downs, but he’s clammed up. We had to turn him over to Jeff.”
He should tell his brother what he found in Lily’s bag, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Couldn’t admit that he had been conned again. Clearly she had real visions, but apparently, she picked and chose what information she shared. “Mara’s in a building with big steel doors. From the doorway there’s a storage trailer with Berk in red along the side.”
“Shit, hang on,” Garrett said. “Okay, Jasper’s locating it now. Are you coming with?”
“Send me the address and I’ll meet you there. I have something to deal with first,” Mason said.
She sat there in the middle of his bed with wide eyes, rubbing her arms up and down.
He hung up the phone and reached behind him to flick on the floor lamp. He needed to see her face. Needed to see the reaction there when she saw what he held in his hand.
He needed the damn truth.
With a soft click, the lamp illuminated what she hadn’t seen before. The notebook with Alegra scrawled on the cover.
Her lips parted on a surprised gasp. “Mason—”
“How long?”
She shivered, the blood draining from her face. She clutched his comforter to her breasts. “How long what?”
Her lips trembled as she said it, and for just a moment, he wanted to go back ten minutes, before the journal, when Lily was the one. The one he had fallen for and connected with in the most timeless of ways.
He uncrossed his ankle from his knee and stomped his foot to the floor. “How long have you had this information on my sister’s disappearance?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Isn’t it?” he growled. “You had visions about my sister’s abduction and never
once said a word.”
“My first vision of your sister was when I was nine. What exactly was I supposed to say? And who would you have had me say it to?”
He shot out of the chair and headed for her. Everything for the past twenty years, the guilt, the anger, the anguish wondering what was happening to his sister, if she had suffered, and the humiliation of falling for a con artist who broke apart the tattered remains of his family pooled together low in his gut and propelled him toward her.
He leaned over where she sat in the bed. “You could have told your parents, your teacher, your preacher, a fucking police officer,” he ground out.
She pushed up onto her knees and reached for him.
He backed away. He couldn’t handle the feel of her hands on his skin. He barely managed to tolerate the memories of it. Torn between attraction and disgust, he’d surely lose what was left of his mind if she touched him.
“And they would have dismissed me. Or worse, they would have assumed something was wrong with me,” she said, her words as helpless sounding as he imagined his sister felt when she was taken.
He clenched his fists on the comforter, unable to back down. “You don’t know—”
“Mason, I was a child. They would have cast it aside as child’s play at best. They would have institutionalized me at worst.”
He swallowed hard, everything he wanted to say, the truth of her words, a bitter pill dissolving on the back of his tongue that he fought to choke down. “I can’t do this with you.”
“Any of this or just right now?”
“I don’t know. I have to go.” He pushed off the bed and went for his closet. His phone pinged with the location as he pulled on his black cargos and black crew.
With no idea what to expect, he went in prepared. He strapped knives to his ankle, as well as an extra gun. His pockets held devices he might need, like wire cutters, flash bombs, mace, and other small devices for whatever might crop up.
He’d be there, but as lead, he’d been busy collecting information while his brothers and the rest of his team had focused on being the muscle.
He slung his shoulder holster over his arm on his way out the door, making sure to not look in her direction where she still sat in the center of his bed.
