Her face had softened. I could see the hopeful, head over heels in love girl she’d once been.
“We were only together for a year,” she said. “And then I got moved to a different company and I insisted that we marry. I was so afraid of losing him, no matter how much he swore he loved me and said I was the only one for him. He wanted to wait until our careers were closer to complete and we could be together to marry. I gave him an ultimatum, and it didn’t go my way.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, the sadness on her face tearing at my heart. Miss Dee Dee had never seemed vulnerable to me until this moment.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, well . . . neither of us ever married. One of my knees failed me a few years later and I came home to Lovely. Alex and I write letters to each other from time to time.”
“Still?” Ivy asked, smiling.
“Yes. But enough about my past mistakes.” She waved a hand. “April, how are things with you and Mason?”
“Good, I think.”
“You’re blushing.”
“Am I?”
Miss Dee Dee and Ivy laughed.
“We’re going shopping this afternoon for dresses to wear to a fundraiser at Thorncrest Wednesday,” Ivy said.
“How lovely. Blue or green for you, April. And get something that showcases your figure.”
I nodded and smiled. “I’ll do that.”
“And for crying out loud, sleep with him. You won’t regret it.”
“Already did,” I admitted sheepishly.
Her face lit up with happiness. “I’m thrilled to hear it. Now don’t let the voice of doubt creep in, and remember what a prize you are. That’s the full extent of my advice on love.”
We ate and talked for another hour, and I was filled with a sense of contentment when we left. I’d focused so much energy on work and searching for a husband the past few years that I’d neglected to make friends. It was nice to have girl talk, and a break from the intensity of thinking about Mason constantly.
Ivy drove us to The Rose Boutique next, and I was surprised how upscale the small-town shop was. The owner, Sandy, greeted us as soon as we walked in and swept us into a large dressing area. She pulled dresses from racks on the way, sizing us up perfectly.
I knew as soon as I saw myself in the backless, floor-length emerald dress with a draped neckline that it was the one. It fit my body perfectly and made me feel elegant and sexy.
“That’s the one,” Ivy said when I walked out. She wore a light blue dress with sequins on the bodice and a flowy skirt.
“That’s beautiful,” I said.
“Shoes,” Sandy said, passing me a pair of strappy heels. “And I think these, as well, but no need to try them on. I’m positive they’ll fit.”
My cheeks warmed as I looked over several pairs of lacy underwear she’d pulled, all with matching lacy bras. I’d hardly seen them and she swept them out of my sight.
“She’s very discreet,” Ivy whispered when we were alone again. “And you’ll knock him dead in that dress.”
“This reminds me of our prom,” I said, laughing at the memory. “Those eighties dresses from Goodwill. Remember?”
She laughed with me. “I wish I had a picture of us from that night. That was so much fun. You never made me feel like I was . . . less for being a pregnant high school student.”
“You weren’t.”
“I know, but other people didn’t see me like you did. It makes me so happy that we’re together again. And that you and Mason are . . . what are you guys?”
I shrugged. “I think we’re physical companions.”
“How romantic.”
“I’m not sure Mason’s the romantic sort.”
“Well, is that important to you?”
I sighed and thought about it. “I don’t know. He kind of hit me like a tidal wave. I have trouble even sorting out what I feel when I’m with him. I just know it’s intense and . . . addictive.”
“And you’re not overthinking it?” She furrowed her brow. “You’re usually a major overthinker.”
“I know. I haven’t had any free time to worry, but I’m sure I’ll be on it soon.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to get home, I need to start working on dinner and get all the beds stripped.”
We checked out and, as Mason had promised, Sandy just asked me to sign a ticket and made no mention of names. I still had an excited, floating feeling on the ride home. I wanted this to be real so badly. I didn’t want to be the only one falling. But I was afraid the only way to figure it out was to let myself fall and see what happened.
APRIL DID GLAMOROUS REALLY fucking well. Her green dress hugged her in all the right places and her long dark curls looked effortlessly sexy. It was the first time I’d seen her in eye makeup and lipstick, which was pale pink.
She’d just gotten to the top of the stairs up from the basement, and she grinned at me. Yeah, she knew she looked hot. I liked that.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
I was ready to go downstairs and fuck the shit out of her.
Soon enough.
“Yeah.” I reached for her hand and helped her with her wrap then led her out to my car.
“You don’t strike me as a Volvo guy,” she said as I opened the door to the car I’d bought on a whim in St. Louis last year.
“It’s my winter car.”
She stepped in and I closed the door. When I got in and started the car, she was looking at me, her brows arched.
“And your summer car?”
“Is a motorcycle.”
“Oh.” She folded her hands in her lap.
“Ever ridden one?”
She waved a hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I drive, too.”
I smiled. “You’d look damn sexy on the back of mine.”
“After I wiped off the seat.”
I furrowed my brow and glanced at her.
“Sorry,” she said. “Bad joke about women without panties who may or may not have, uh . . . come before me.”
“Speaking of panties–the only ones I’m interested in, by the way–what’ve you got on under that dress?”
“You’ll have to find out for yourself,” she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
“I plan to.” I rested my hand on her knee. “How was lunch with Miss Dee Dee?”
“It was nice. I like her a lot.”
“Now that she’s stopped poking you with her cane?”
She smiled and gathered her hair in her hands, laying it over one shoulder. She was breathtaking; smart and beautiful and best of all, not in a puddle at my feet. Most women bit their lips and pleaded for a ride on my motorcycle.
“Well, I am becoming a less and less awful dancer by the week,” she said.
“You were great last night.” After dance lessons, I’d worked on a new project I couldn’t get my mind off of, not stopping until three AM. “I’m sorry again for working so late. This idea came to me and it’s hard for me not to push forward on it.”
“I don’t care if you work late.”
I squeezed her knee. “What I really mean is, I’m sorry for not coming to bed with you. I don’t want you to think I didn’t want to. The other night was incredible. More than incredible. It’s not always like that. And I’m dying for more.”
What I didn’t tell her was that it had never been like that for me. I’d been trying to figure out what it was about her that made the sex off the charts, but it was a mystery. I was chalking it up to amazing luck.
Thorncrest was a century-old red brick mansion set back from an unassuming side street in Lovely. It wasn’t until you got through the gates and down the winding driveway that you were able to see just how massive and beautiful it was.
“Oh, wow,” April said softly as we pulled up in front of the large carriage-style garage and I parked in the driveway.
“Nice, huh?” I said.
“Incredible.”
I walked around to open her car door.
“You lo
ok beautiful tonight,” I said as I took her hand and helped her out of the car.
“Thank you.” Her eyes shone, and I wondered if it was happiness, or if she was feeling the same excitement I was over my promise to ravage her tonight.
As soon as we got inside the mansion’s double front doors, my mom spotted us and practically sprinted over.
“Mason, so glad you could make it, honey.” She gave April an approving smile. “And I’m thrilled to see you brought April.”
She was naming our unborn children. I could see it in her eyes. Mom had never seen me bring a date to something like this.
“It’s great to see you again,” April said. “What a gorgeous spot for a dinner party.”
“Isn’t it? I think you’ll enjoy tonight. Both of you.” She fussed with my tie, ever my mother. “Thanks for your contribution to the capital campaign, by the way. Business must be going well.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, ignoring her implied question about my work. Mom didn’t pry, exactly, but she did her best to mine for information when she could.
My sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Wilson, approached us and introduced herself to April.
“I’ll leave you three to talk,” Mom said. “I need to go check on dinner. We’re not eating for another hour, though, so mingle.”
“So was Mason a memorable student?” April asked Mrs. Wilson.
“He was. All the Lockhart boys were, actually. Mason was one of my smartest students. And he was ornerier than any of his brothers. He’d pull pranks and then charm me with that smile of his.”
April gave me a knowing grin. “I can imagine.”
Mrs. Wilson dove into stories, impressing me with her memory. She recalled, remarkably well, the time I switched out the sugar she kept on her desk for her iced tea with salt. April listened and laughed, but I found myself distracted by the back of her dress.
It was open all the way down past the curve of her back, and her hair only covered the top half of her back. The curly ends of her hair were a dark contrast to the smooth, ivory skin of her back. I was pretty sure I’d only have to slide the sleeves of the dress from her shoulders and it would slide off and drop to the ground. Maybe she’d need to shimmy a little. Either way, I was rock hard and ready to get her alone.
AFTER ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES of conversation with his sixth grade teacher, I sensed an impatient heat from Mason. It was nearly imperceptible. Something about his eyes when they met mine were giving me a clear message.
“Will you excuse us, Mrs. Wilson?” he said, putting a hand on my lower back. “I promised April a tour of the house.”
“Of course.”
He guided me toward a doorway, his hand warm against my bare skin.
“I think you’ll find this an exciting tour,” he said, looking down at me with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“I’m sure I will. It’ll just be a quickie tour, right?”
“Faster than I’d prefer, sure.” He slid his hand down my back to my ass, which he squeezed. “But still very thorough.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said, avoiding his gaze.
His hand tightened its hold as he turned down a dark hallway. We passed several closed doors before he reached for the handle of one and turned in, poking his head in the room.
“Perfect,” he murmured, steering me inside.
I looked around the darkened room, which had heavy curtains covering the tall windows. It was a two-story room, the walls lined with shelves full of books.
“Mmm, the library,” I said, taking in the scent of leather and paper. “My kind of aphrodisiac.”
Mason had closed the door, and I heard the click of the lock on the handle.
“Over here,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to a leather-upholstered loveseat.
He switched on an ornate green wall lamp and sat down.
“I can’t wait any longer to see your beautiful mouth wrapped around my cock, April. Get on your knees.”
I felt a hard clench of desire between my legs. Just as I bent to comply, Mason put his hands on my outer thighs and grabbed the skirt of my dress. He pulled it up, the fabric skimming over my bare skin. I gasped as I felt cool air hitting my legs.
When he had it up to my waist, his eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he took in the black lace panties I wore.
“Turn around.”
I spun so my back was to him and glanced over my shoulder. Desire swam in his dark eyes as he took in the small strip of fabric on the crack of my ass.
He smacked me then, so hard I barely swallowed the cry that rose up my throat. But surprisingly, the sting felt good. When he leaned forward and ran his tongue over the scant underwear on my bottom, I let out a breath, hoping for more.
But he spun me back around with his hands on my hips, nudging me down as he held onto my dress to keep it hiked around my waist as I got to my knees.
His erection bulged against his dark suit pants. I eyed it and licked my lips, finding that for the first time ever, I wanted to do this. Wanted it a lot. I’d given my first sexual partner oral sex, though I’d never felt any enthusiasm for it. But Mason’s hooded gaze and obvious arousal made me want to reach between my legs and rub away the ache there as I took him in my mouth.
He reached for his zipper, but I put my hand over his.
“I want to.”
The corners of his lips turned up and he put his hands on my shoulders, caressing them gently. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing his thick erection.
“April,” he said, his breath hitching as I licked my lips and tasted the tip of him.
His body tensed as I took more of his length, his labored breathing telling me he was enjoying it.
I worked my mouth up and down his shaft, feeling a heady sense of power over affecting him this way.
“So good, baby,” he said, groaning. “So fucking good. Take me deeper.”
I took as much as I could, adding my hand beneath my mouth so I could stroke and suck in a rhythm.
“Ah . . . fuck.” Mason’s hips shot up and he wove a hand into my hair. “You’re gonna make me come.”
I picked up the pace, eager to taste his release. But he pulled his hips back and held my shoulders with his hands, leaning in to kiss me.
“Bend over the side of this loveseat,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his suit pants. “Keep the dress around your waist.”
I did it, standing and holding on to my dress as I bent over an armrest of the loveseat. My ass was in the air, shamelessly on display, but I’d never felt more turned on. I wanted him inside me more than I wanted my next breath.
He kicked off his shoes and pants and stood, ripping open a condom and sliding it on.
“So fucking sexy,” he said, standing behind me. “God, what you do to me, April.”
Slowly, he slid the panties down my thighs, and he lifted one of my feet to free me from them.
He slapped my ass then, giving me a hard, satisfying smack on each cheek. I buried my face in the loveseat to muffle my moans of pleasure. A second later, I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from crying out as I felt him sliding his fingers in me.
“So damn tight and wet,” he said, groaning as he pushed in and out of me. “You’re ready for a rough fucking, aren’t you, baby?”
I nodded vigorously, not trusting what would come out of my mouth if I took my hand away. He grabbed my hips and slid into me, and I moaned with relief and desire.
He gave me what he’d promised: rough, hard, merciless sex that left me dizzy with satisfaction. The only sounds in the room were skin slapping skin, my muffled moans and his grunts. After a couple minutes, he put an arm around my chest and raised me up so my back was against his chest.
As soon as his fingers touched my clit, a deep orgasm swept through me. He buried his teeth in my shoulder and bit, the pain stretching out my release for several more long, blissful seconds.
Just as I started to come down, he tensed and let go of m
y waist, his hand on my lower back easing me back down over the side of the loveseat. He pulled out of me and I felt his movement as he slipped the condom off.
He let out a long, deep groan and I felt his warm, wet release on my skin he’d spanked just minutes ago. His breath was coming hard as he took out a cloth handkerchief to wipe my skin clean. He stuck the condom he’d pulled off into the handkerchief, too, stuffing it in his pocket before wrapping his arms around me. His broad, powerful chest engulfed my back.
We’d snuck away from a dinner party for dirty sex. But it was a lot more than just that. At least, for me it was. Once again, I couldn’t keep the tears from spilling over. This moment was beautifully, painfully intimate. I felt the rise and fall of his chest against my back; his warm breath on my neck. Miss Dee Dee’s words rang in my ears: I felt like we were one instead of two.
That was exactly what I felt right now. Mason was more than a hot lover to me, and he was far more than a friend.
I was in love with him. Deeply, irrefutably in love.
“April . . . that was amazing,” he said, his tone so low it was nearly a whisper. “You’re so damn sexy.”
The lump in my throat burned. I wanted him to be as moved as I was right now. As emotional as I was.
As in love as I was.
I snuck a hand up to wipe away my tears. Mason pressed a kiss to the throbbing skin on my shoulder, and then turned me to face him. His sated expression turned to a concerned one as soon as he looked at me.
“Are you crying? Did I hurt you?” He tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He shook his head. “Dammit. I’m sorry, I got carried away. I’d never—”
“I’m fine.”
“You wouldn’t be crying if you were fine.”
I decided I’d rather him think it was the bite that made me cry and not my stupid, lovesick heart.
“I’m fine, alright? How bad does it look?”
“Uh . . . you know, it’s a purple circle of teeth marks. It looks like some guy bit the shit out of you in a sex-crazed frenzy.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Does my hair cover it up?”
In Deep Page 14
