by Day, Laura
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental
Blake copyright @ 2015 by Laura Day. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
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MASON
Chapter One
Blake Lambert relaxed into his leather couch and watched the woman in front of him. She smiled at him over her glass of bourbon and flipped her long auburn hair over her shoulder.
“How long are you in town for?” he asked. She was walking around his apartment picking up photos and trophies and smiling at them before putting them back down. He wasn’t sure if she was actually reading what was on the trophies, or if she was just pretending to be interested in him.
“Three days,” she responded with her back to him. “We have a show in Portland on Saturday.” Michelle was in a hardcore punk band. Blake had gone to one of her shows last years, but he hadn’t been that interested. The music was basically Michelle screaming into the microphone while a mosh pit formed at her feet. Some people liked it, but Blake wasn’t one of them.
He might not have liked her music, but he certainly enjoyed her company. She was beautiful, tall and thin and covered in tattoos. Michelle didn’t want to get married. She didn’t want to be exclusive. She wanted to come to town, party, fuck, and leave. It was their arrangement and it worked very well for Blake.
He finished his bourbon and poured himself another, looking past Michelle to the Seattle skyline visible through the large windows behind her. It was a spring night and, in the distance, he could see dark clouds heavy with rain looming on the horizon.
“You seem a little distracted,” Michelle chided as she stood in his line of vision.
“Yeah,” Blake answered shaking his head. Don’t think about Ivy, he ordered himself. Think about this beautiful girl in front of you.
As if on cue Michelle reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head revealing the lacy bra she was wearing underneath. Tattoos lined her chest, and stomach and arms. There were stars and tornados and foreign languages scattered over her lithe body.
Ivy McCormick doesn’t even have a single tattoo, he thought.
Michelle was moving towards him a smile playing across her face. “Stop being distracted,” she said. She leaned over him on the couch and kissed him, slipping her tongue between his lips. “Think about me and you and right now and nothing else,” she whispered into his ear. She began to kiss his neck before biting his earlobe.
Blake wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her towards him. She set her knees on either side of his legs, straddling him as she sat lightly on top of him. She took his face in his hands and brought him close to her, kissing him deeply. Blake reached down and grabbed her ass roughly, pulling her flush against his body. His hands ran up and down her warm back and he reached for her bra, quickly unsnapping it and tossing it to the floor.
His shifted in his seat, making more room for his growing erection as his body reacted to Michelle’s touch. Her fingers were entwined in his hair as she pulled him close, kissing him desperately. Blake ran his fingers up her spine feeling each ridge of her backbone with his calloused palm. He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back to give him access to her breasts. He leaned forward and took one in his mouth, sucking and biting the nipple as Michelle arched her back and whispered his name.
Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and she pulled it up and over his head. Her hands reached for his strong pectoral muscles and she ran her fingers down his chest until the settled on his belt. She was grinding her body against his, and it was responding. He leaned forward and began to kiss her neck making her whimper and cry out. His tongue licked her soft tattooed shoulder and he kissed the sensitive nape of her neck, making her squirm above him.
He dug his hands into her hips. He wanted her. Without warning he picked Michelle up and off of him. He shifted her onto the couch and she lay down on her back. She licked her lips as she looked up at him and that was all Blake needed. He quickly unbuttoned her jeans and slid them over her hips revealing the black thong she was wearing underneath.
He slipped out of his own jeans and boxers and left them in a pile on the floor. He knelt between Michelle’s open legs, and ran his hands over her smooth thighs. He gripped her tightly before massaging her legs as he leaned down. He kissed her, letting go of her legs, and ran his hand through her hair and down her neck.
He kissed her, moving down her body, kissing each of her breasts and then the soft skin between them. He kissed his way down her stomach, flashing past her tattoos as he went. Finally, he settled between her legs and Michelle sighed and closed her eyes.
He reached up and massaged her breast as he slid his tongue inside of her. A shudder rocked through her and Blake pulled her thighs closer to him, holding onto her tightly. She cried out his name as his tongue slid over her clit. He went slowly and softly until Michelle’s hands were wrapped up in his hair and she was begging him for more.
“Yes, Blake. Yes!” she cried, arching her hips against his tongue. Her stroked her harder and felt her body respond as she screamed out the word yes and then he felt her tense and writhe underneath him as she came. He kissed the inside of her left thigh as she lay below him, her eyes closed as she gasped for breath.
He kissed her neck and roused her from her post-orgasm state. Michelle leaned up towards him and ran her hands down his back and over his ass. Her hands came around to his front and she grazed his hard cock with her fingertips. She kissed him as her hand gently wrapped around him and she began to stroke him.
“Yes,” Blake whispered. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what he really wanted, what he needed. He sat back on his heels and pulled Michelle up. He guided her with his hands and turned her over until she was on her hands and knees. He reached into the small table next to his couch and pulled out a condom, slipping it over himself before placing his hand on the small of Michelle’s back.
He slipped easily into her. He let himself sink all the way as he took her hips and pulled her closer. His mind cleared as he thrust into her. She felt amazing around him and he groaned her name. He listened for Michelle’s, but she wasn’t crying out his name, so he reached around and slipped his finger into her wet center.
She grabbed his arm and whispered yes as they moved together. She pushed back against him and he thrust far into her and then slid himself all the way out. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back. He leaned down and kissed Michelle’s back as she began to moan loudly. His fingers were spinning inside of her and she was pushing her body closer to them.
“Oh, Blake. Yes.”
The sound of her voice was almost too much. He held himself back until he felt her body tense and then she convulsed around him and it was too much. Blake came as he pulled Michelle against him until he was spent.
“I missed that,” Michelle said as she sat back and rested her head against Blake’s shoulder. “This really makes the trip to Seattle worth it. Ugh, all this rain. I can’t stand it.”
“I like Seattle,” Blake said. A heavy tiredness was setting in. He and Michelle ne
ver really talked. That was part of their arrangement. No strings, no promises, just a good time had by all. It was the only kind of relationship he bothered with. Blake Lambert didn’t do girlfriends. He wasn’t going to hold hands or go to brunch on Sunday. He lived his life his own way. He made his own schedule, did what he wanted. Why would he ever want to change that?
He stood up and pulled on his jeans, but left his shirt on the floor. Michelle began to dress, as well, slipping back into her ripped up jeans and tattered t-shirt.
“I needed that,” he said as he looked out onto his view of the city. He lived in a small penthouse apartment with huge south facing windows. It was far from his gym and the training facility, but Blake liked it. He liked waking up every morning and having a view like this. It made all his hard work seem worth it.
“Having a hard week?” Michelle asked as she grabbed a pack of cigarettes and headed towards his balcony.
Blake walked with her and they stood out in the misty night air. “I’m going home to visit my mom and meet her new boyfriend,” he said, feeling ridiculous
“Poor little mamma’s boy,” Michelle smirked as she cupped her hand over her cigarette and clicked her lighter. The smell of smoke wafted around them. She offered him her pack, but, as always, Blake said no. Smoking cigarettes didn’t really mesh with his day job.
“It’s not that. I’m glad my mom’s dating someone. She’s been bothering me a lot less. The problem is, her new boyfriend has a daughter and I used to date that daughter
“OMG, if your parents get married, you will have dated your stepsister.”
“I know,” Blake said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Plus we didn’t exactly end things great. We haven’t spoken since high school. It’s gonna be a rough weekend.”
“Yeah well, there are starving children out there. You don’t have it so bad.”
“Ah, Michelle. Always so caring and compassionate,” Blake smiled over at her as she looked at him from behind the red glow of her cigarette.
“Wanna knock out one more before you go home and try not to bang your future stepsister?” Michelle asked tossing her cigarette over the balcony.
“Yes,” Blake said.
Michelle turned and walked inside, but Blake stood on the balcony for another moment. Ivy McCormick, Blake had spent too long thinking about that girl. She was etched in his brain as the one who got away, the perfect girl for him. It had taken a while, but the image of her had finally managed to fade from his mind. But now she was back; he was going to see her and he couldn’t stop imagining what she might look like now.
Chapter Two
“Scrambled eggs and bacon, just the way you like it, kiddo.”
Jeez, Dad, kiddo. I’m twenty-five years old and he was still calling me kiddo. But his cooking had always been delicious, which made the nicknames worth it. She reached for her fork and began to pile the bacon and eggs together and she took a huge mouthful and began to chew. And then Blake walked in.
“Morning,” he said, walking over to the coffee table to pour himself a cup of coffee.
Ivy closed her eyes as she tried to swallow the huge bite she had taken. Of course Blake had walked in at the worst possible moment.
“Good morning, dear,” Blake’s mother, Ellen, said as Blake joined them at the table.
Ivy finally managed to swallow her food, but then found she couldn’t talk. Blake was wearing a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a tight white tank top that revealed his well-muscled shoulders.
“Blake,” Ivy finally managed to spit out as she gave him a nod. She still couldn't quite bring herself to look him in the eye.
“Good morning, Sis,” Blake said raising his eyebrows at her as he took a long sip of his coffee.
“Blake, you interested in some breakfast?” her father, Jonas, asked.
“Love some, thanks,” Blake called over.
It was too much. It was all just too weird. Blake was sitting across the breakfast table from her. Blake, the guy she had lost her virginity to, the first and only guy she had ever loved was going to be her stepbrother. Was this going to be her life? Holidays and vacations spent making awkward small talk with her ex? And what would happen if he were to actually bring a girl home with him? Ivy would have to sit and pretend that she was happy and that it didn’t bother her at all. Not that it would bother her. She and Blake had broken up years ago and she had moved on. But the shock of seeing him and knowing she would have to continue to see him was more than she was ready for.
“Everything all right, Ivy?” Ellen asked as she lowered the newspaper and looked over.
“I’m fine,” she said taking another bite of her eggs to avoid having to say another word.
“I know this is all a little strange. And we hate making this hard for you kids,” Jonas said, and then he reached across the table and took Ellen’s hand. They looked at each other and Ivy saw the smile that played across her father’s face. “But Ellen and I are just so crazy about each other. We just click so well, like two puzzle pieces that somebody finally pushed together.”
“It’s fine, Dad,” Ivy said, cutting in before her father could find any more ways to express his love for Ellen. “It’s not weird at all.”
“I’m totally fine with it,” Blake said with a mouthful of eggs. “You two crazy kids do you.”
Ellen put her hands to her chest as tears sprung to her eyes. “You are just the two most wonderful kids anyone could ever have.”
“We sure did raise them right,” Jonas said.
Ivy choked on her coffee and then smiled as she tried to cough discreetly.
Across the table, Blake was smirking at her and shaking his head. “You two are great parents,” Blake agreed staring at Ivy as she tried to stop herself from shaking her head.
She could not let Blake get to her. Her father loved Ellen and Ivy wasn’t going to take that away from him. Jonas had worked so hard his entire life to provide for Ivy and put her through school and this was how she could pay him back, by accepting his new love. She wanted him and Ellen to stay together and that meant she needed to stay away from Blake. She could do that, probably.
“We appreciate you being so mature,” Ellen said and Ivy saw the knowing look she gave Blake. He gave his mom a dutiful nod and then went back to shoveling his breakfast in his mouth. “What are your plans while you’re back in town, Ivy?”
“Oh, I’ll probably just meet up with a few friends, do some shopping.”
“What about you, Blake?” Jonas asked.
“Training. I’ve got a big fight coming up. My old gym is just around the corner and they’re going to let come back in and practice while I’m here.”
“You’re still fighting?” Ivy asked. She couldn’t believe it; after all this time he was still engaged in his little after school activity.
“MMA,” Blake answered. He met her gaze and the memory of their breakup flashed before his eyes: Ivy crying and yelling and Blake shrugging his shoulders. He had broken her heart and he didn’t even care. Not then, anyway.
“Blake is very good. He’s ranked nationally in his weight class,” Ellen said. But her voice was high-pitched and she didn’t look pleased.
“Mom doesn’t love the fighting,” Blake said.
“No, I gave up that battle a few years ago. If this is what Blake wants to do, if this makes him happy and he can support himself, then I’m okay with it.” The speech seemed to take a lot out of her and Ivy was glad to hear she wasn’t the only one who hated that Blake was a fighter.
Blake looked over to her and it was almost as if he were hoping that Ivy had changed her mind, as well. But Ivy was not so easily swayed. Blake had been her high school sweetheart. They dated for their entire senior year. They went to dances and parties and games, but they never went to prom. Going to her senior year prom was the only thing Ivy really wanted to do. She knew it was silly and old-fashioned, but she had wanted it. She wanted to feel like royalty for one night. She wanted to have her dad t
ake her picture as she stood in front of her limo. And Blake promised her that. He got a tux and the limo and he properly asked her and everything. And then two days before prom there had been a fight. It was between him and another kid who went to a different boxing gym. They had been pushing each other’s buttons all year. It came to a head two days before prom where they arranged a fight in the schoolyard at four o’clock.
Somebody snitched. The Vice Principal showed up and Blake was suspended and banned from the prom. But that wasn’t the worst part. Ivy could have handled a suspension, she would have gone to prom with her friends and met up with Blake afterward. She could have laughed with him at a suspension.
“Look, Babe, fighting is my life. If you can’t get on board with that, then maybe we can’t be together anymore.” Those were his exact words and they struck Ivy like a knife. No apology, no offer to make it up to her, just teenage swagger.
