by Mandy Baxter
Charlie pushed herself up until her face was inches from him. “You’re a good man, Mason. Probably the best I’ve ever known.”
*
Charlie had known early on that there was so much more to Mason than the stern-faced, cranky, take-no-shit persona he let everyone see. They had more in common than she ever would have guessed, and yet she knew that at the end of the day, Mason was the better person. His standards were so high Charlie could only aspire to reach them.
“I want to be,” Mason said. The deep timbre of his voice rumbled through her, and Charlie shivered. “But I’m just as selfish as Kieran and my dad are. I made a promise to Kieran that what I did would never come between us. I should have walked away from Carrera’s offer. Instead, I’m using Kieran so I can get what I want.”
“It’s for the greater good,” Charlie assured him.
Mason snorted. “Is it?”
“Yes.” She believed that. It’s why she was so damned passionate about this task force. “Honestly, I don’t know why or how Kieran got involved with Faction Five, but they’re bad news, Mason. It doesn’t matter that they’re white-collar criminals. That they’re educated and sophisticated. They’re hiding behind positions of power and abusing that power for monetary gain. And who’s that going to hurt? Everyone. It’s a tear in the very fabric of the law. It’s the worst sort of entitlement and it shows people like Kieran that their disdain for the system is justified. It’ll open the door for terrorists and political usurpers to join their ranks and enjoy the same sort of autonomy. This group has to be stopped before they amass any sort of legitimate power. So what if you benefit from it? Stopping them isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.”
“This isn’t like Kieran.” It was the first time Charlie had ever heard Mason speak of him with honest affection. “He’s always worked alone. Syndicates aren’t his thing. Especially if it means giving them any power over him. He’s a free spirit. He doesn’t take anything seriously.”
“Maybe he’s tired of gaming the system on his own.” Charlie didn’t know much about Kieran, but she agreed with Mason. Answering to a syndicate didn’t seem like something he’d enjoy. “Faction Five could offer him a layer of protection that he’s never had before.”
“Could be.” Mason didn’t sound convinced. “He doesn’t do anything without first having a good reason. But this syndicate …” He blew out a breath. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not Kieran’s style. I just don’t understand how he got mixed up with them.”
Charlie settled herself against Mason’s chest. “Do you think he’s under duress?”
“No one forces Kieran to do anything,” Mason said. “It’s part of his charm.”
She laughed. “Are you going to be able to go through with this?” Charlie had been concerned from the start, but now that she knew Kieran, had seen him and Mason together, she wondered if he’d be able to continue to manipulate the man who was as close to him as a brother.
“Yes.” There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in Mason’s response. “He knows what he is and he knows who I am. I think we both realized it would come down to this someday. We couldn’t keep our lives separate forever. Whatever happens, I’m ready for it.”
Charlie hadn’t thought twice about using Mason to gain Kieran’s trust and infiltrate Faction Five. Her only concern had been the win. Now, though, guilt pulled at her chest when she thought of what she and the U.S. Marshals office had asked him to do. What they’d held over his head in order to get his cooperation. In the end, were they any better than Kieran? Mason seemed to be the only innocent person in all of this.
“If anyone deserves to get something good out of this, it’s you.”
“I’m not a saint, Charlie.”
She smiled at the humor in his tone. Somehow, she doubted it. “Tell me one thing you’ve ever done that was bad.”
“Okay. When I was thirteen, I painted a reproduction of one of Van Gogh’s Irises. My dad sold it to a collector for a quarter million dollars.”
Charlie nearly choked on her intake of breath. “You’re kidding me?”
“Nope. I did a damn good job.”
Jensen Decker was a well-known forger. Charlie had never suspected that his son had inherited his artistic talent. “Did you know he was going to sell the painting?”
“Of course. He told me the money was going into my college fund.”
Charlie figured it hadn’t been the first time his father had told him something like that. “What happened to the money?”
She felt Mason shrug against her. “Who knows? Dad had a knack for spending money faster than he could make it.”
“Have you ever painted anything that was an original?”
Mason’s fingers brushed her bare shoulder. The simple up-and-down motion coaxed goose bumps to the surface of Charlie’s skin and caused a rush of warmth to flood her. His touch evoked an instant reaction in her, and her mind drifted to their earlier heated moments. She couldn’t feel an ounce of shame that even after exhausting herself, she was more than ready to have him inside of her again.
“Sometimes I paint when I’m stressed out,” he said. “I never hang anything, though. It’s more just for me. I’m not looking for any attention for it.”
So humble. Charlie went balls out for glory, and Mason lived his life as low-key as he could. If she had anything to be ashamed of, it was her own ambition.
“I’d like to see your paintings sometime.”
“Oh yeah?” His tone became sly and Charlie couldn’t help but smile. “Trying to find a way inside my bedroom, huh?”
“Is that where you keep the paintings?”
“In my closet.”
“Then, yes.” Charlie splayed her hand over the bulging muscle of one pec. “I’m definitely trying to find a way into your bedroom.”
Mason bent his head over hers and kissed her. Gone was the frenzied, passionate urgency that had consumed them before. He savored her mouth. Kissed her slowly and thoroughly. His hands explored her body, unhurried. Charlie settled down onto the pillow and Mason slid down beside her. They kissed in the darkness. Mouths meeting, tongues brushing, breaths melding into one. They touched. Stroked and caressed each other until the flames of their passion rekindled. And still, Mason took his time with her. His fingers dipped between her thighs and slid between her slick folds.
He teased her. Enticed her. Whispered dirty, heated things close to her ear. He tasted her mouth, her throat. Kissed his way down her stomach and sealed his mouth over her sex once again. Charlie’s back arched off the bed as he licked and sucked, brought her to heights of pleasure so intense, she didn’t know how much more she could take before her world exploded and left her weak and shaken.
With every caress, every touch of his lips, Mason treated her as though she meant more to him than some random hookup. He treated her as though she was precious. Beautiful. Desirable. He stirred her emotions to the point that tears pricked at Charlie’s eyes and her chest ached.
“Fuck me, Mason.” She needed to feel him inside of her. Filling her. Stretching her. She needed that joining of their bodies. “Please.”
He rolled away from her, toward the bedside table, and she heard the sound of the packet being torn open before he settled himself between her thighs. Charlie shook with anticipation, worse than any addict desperate for her next high. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his stiff length before guiding him to her opening. He thrust home with a groan of relief and she hooked her ankles around the backs of his knees as he drove forward, pulled out, and fucked into her again, hard and deep. Charlie cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she came up off the mattress to meet the forward momentum of his hips. His breathing became heavy and ragged. His arms shook on either side of her. His muscles grew taut as he ground his hips into hers.
Time didn’t exist when it was just the two of them like this. It stretched out infinitely between them, leaving nothing but sound, sensation, and pleasure so intense it brought
tears to Charlie’s eyes.
“You feel so good.” Mason’s heated words at her ear vibrated along Charlie’s flesh. “You’re so tight. So perfect. God, you’re so slick and wet. I can’t get enough of you, Charlie.”
He couldn’t get enough? Charlie was beginning to wonder how she’d function on a daily basis without wanting to drag him where they could have a few stolen moments alone. “Fuck me harder.” She needed to come, to feel that wild abandon with him again. “Don’t stop until I come.”
Mason obliged her and then some. He fucked her without mercy, driving hard and deep, thrusting with a desperation that she understood all too well. Whatever this was between them burned hot and bright. It consumed them in unquenchable flames. “Come with me, Charlie.” Mason’s words were a low growl in her ear. “I’m close. I want your pussy squeezing me when I come.”
Dear God. When he spoke to her like that, how could she do anything other than what he asked of her? Pleasure built and crested with every powerful drive of his hips. At her center, Charlie felt her body gather in on itself as though compressing to the size of an atom. Her thighs began to tremble and her muscles grew taut. A gasp lodged itself in her throat and she held on to Mason as though he was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
“Oh God!”
The orgasm exploded through her. Charlie cried out as Mason fucked her. Waves of sensation crested and broke like the ocean at high tide. With every drive of his hips, Mason prolonged her pleasure. His breath became uneven and ragged in her ear and Mason’s body went taut. He let out a low groan as he came and his wild thrusts soon became disjointed and lazy before his body came to rest on top of hers.
Amazing.
They came down from the high together. Kisses. Caresses. Slow, measured breaths. His heart beat against hers, and Charlie closed her eyes as she relished the almost imperceptible thump. Seconds passed. Minutes. She had no idea how long they lay like that, but when Mason finally rolled away, she felt his absence with a gut-wrenching ache.
Charlie floated somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. “Have you always been claustrophobic?” It was hard to imagine anything scaring Mason or making him uncomfortable. Ever since the flight to L.A. she’d been curious.
“My mom died when I was two.” The low timbre of his voice lulled her closer toward sleep. “My dad was gone a lot. One time, when I was five, he left me with a neighbor and she shut me in the closet for eight hours. When he came home and found me, I was pretty freaked out. I’d never seen him so angry. He threatened the babysitter. Told her if he ever saw her face again, he’d put her in the ground. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I guess I must have been pretty traumatized because it freaked my dad out. He took all the doors off the closets after that. It was literally the only time growing up that I felt like he wanted to take care of me. The older I got, the harder he got.”
“Mason.” Emotion clogged Charlie’s throat. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
He kissed the top of her head. “My dad was a bastard, but he never let me be scared of enclosed spaces when he was around. He tried to distract me and keep my mind off it. You did that for me.” He paused. “You make me feel like I can breathe, Charlie.”
Her heart pounded at the admission. “You make me feel like I can breathe too.” It was true. Being with Mason somehow made everything okay. That sort of comfort was a rare commodity.
Mason pulled her close and Charlie tucked herself against his body as she let sleep take her. She was officially lost to him. There was no going back.
Chapter Nineteen
Last night had been the best one of Mason’s life. Charlie had let him forget, if only for a few hours, what he was really doing in L.A.
He’d passed Kieran’s test, and in doing so, set in motion something that he couldn’t ever undo. Charlie thought he was a good man? A good man was loyal. A good man didn’t turn his back on his family. A good man didn’t use his own brother for intel and turn him into a government asset.
Mason wasn’t a good man. He was barely a decent human being. Whatever Charlie saw in him was an illusion. He was Jensen Decker’s kid, for shit’s sake. That was a stigma he wouldn’t ever escape.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes?”
Mason looked up at Charlie. She waited by the door, sleepy, disheveled, and so goddamned beautiful she took his breath away. He crossed the room to where she stood and reached past her to open the door. His arm brushed her breasts and he recalled how their lush fullness felt, bare against his skin. Mason’s cock perked up and he willed the bastard still. They needed to get their asses to the airport and back to San Francisco. Playtime was over.
He didn’t want it to be over, though. As far as Mason was concerned, whatever this was between him and Charlie was just getting started.
Charlie gazed up at him. Did she have any idea how sexy she was when she played coy? Being close to her for the rest of the day and not touching was going to kill him. He leaned in close and kissed her once. It would have to be enough to sustain him for now. When she pulled away, a slow smile spread across her rosy lips. “Don’t be late,” she murmured as she ducked under his arm and hurried down the hallway.
Mason leaned out into the hallway to watch her go. He straightened and looked to his left to find Kieran standing just outside the door to his own room at the end of the hallway. Ashamed of his own smug satisfaction at having gotten one up on Kieran, he met his stoic gaze for only a moment before ducking back into his room and letting the door shut behind him.
From the day his dad had taken Kieran in, Mason had fought to prove he was just as good as Kieran. As smart. As successful. As charismatic and charming. As goddamned hard. And Mason had always come in second. Always.
Until last night. Mason had taken something that Kieran wanted. And despite the fact that his interest in Charlie hadn’t been spurred because of Kieran’s interest in her, it still made him feel as though he’d finally gotten the point across that he was Kieran’s equal. He only hoped that Charlie wouldn’t get caught in the middle of this power play that still existed between them even after so many years.
Twenty minutes didn’t give Mason much time to get showered and ready to go. He’d slept all of about two hours and he wanted to stand under the scalding hot spray of the shower and let the water relax his taut muscles. What he really wanted was to be standing under the jets with Charlie, lathering her body and letting his hands slide over every slippery inch of her.
Mason groaned and braced his arm against the shower wall. He didn’t think he’d be able to get her out of his head if he tried. With a flick of his wrist, he turned the knob to the right. He sucked in a sharp breath as the cold water hit him and he forced himself to stand under the spray until the icy missiles dulled his racing thoughts. Playtime was over. Back to business. He’d managed to pass Kieran’s test, but that didn’t mean he’d gained his unwavering trust. It didn’t mean Mason would confide in him about his involvement with Faction Five.
Since he’d taken this assignment, Mason’s focus had been on what he’d get out of it if he was successful. The U.S. Marshals Service had been his endgame since the day he’d joined the police academy. Now, though, he wasn’t thinking only of himself. He wanted Charlie to have the win. To be able to prove to her father and anyone else who’d ever doubted her that she was a force to be reckoned with. He’d do whatever was in his power to get that for her. He’d hand Faction Five to her on a silver fucking platter.
Mason finished his frigid shower and dressed. He slung his duffel over his shoulder and headed for the lobby. His gut tightened at the prospect of facing Kieran. He hadn’t taken Charlie from Kieran. It wasn’t a betrayal. It felt like one, though. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. Or that they hadn’t talked in years until recently. Kieran was still Mason’s family. Was it guilt over what had happened between him and Charlie that got under Mason’s skin? No, it was the shame that nagged at him since day one: He was man
ipulating Kieran. Deceiving him. The task force claimed to want Faction Five more than Kieran. That the information he could provide them was worth more than his arrest. Mason knew they were blowing smoke to placate him. They’d arrest Kieran as soon as the opportunity presented itself. What made Mason feel like an asshole was that he pretended the possibility of Kieran’s arrest wasn’t inevitable, to justify his own selfishness.
Charlie and Kieran were already in the lobby when Mason got there. They sat together on a couch, deep in conversation. It seemed the task force hadn’t needed Mason at all. Charlie had managed to easily dazzle Kieran. She could have single-handedly infiltrated Faction Five. She was capable of anything.
“Hey.” She flashed him a blinding smile that made Mason’s chest ache.
He wanted to return the gesture but he couldn’t manage more than a slight grimace. “Hey.”
Her expression fell. Mason wanted to kick himself. His eyes slid to Kieran, who pinned him with an accusing glare. From here on out, things were bound to get shittier and a hell of a lot more tense. It wouldn’t do him any good to come across as regretful or even guilty. Charlie wasn’t a prize to be won. And he wasn’t going to let Kieran treat her like one. They were all adults. Time to put childish rivalries behind them.
Kieran cocked a sardonic brow. A sly, half smile curved his lips. He was up to something. Who the hell knew what. Kieran was always working an angle. What was important was for Mason to be sure he kept one step ahead of him.
“How was your night?” Kieran’s confident expression didn’t waver. “You look a little tired.”
If he was trying to bait him, it wasn’t going to work. “Hotel beds,” Mason responded. “They kill my back.”
Kieran checked his phone as though totally unconcerned with how Mason spent last night or any other night. He pushed himself up from the couch and held his hand out to Charlie. “Our car’s here. Ready?”
She gave him a pleasant smile and let him help her up. “Ready.”
