Having no idea how to respond, I stood and looked at him dumbfounded.
He put his glass of water on the end table and patted the seat beside him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Okay.” I sank into the cushion, my mind diving into a thousand different scenarios.
“About last night.”
I scooted sideways on the sofa, so I could watch him as he spoke.
“I was wasted.”
“I know.”
“I said more than I should have.”
I reached over and laid my hand on top of his. He smelled clean, and as always, his skin was warm to the touch. “Mason, when I told you that I would listen to your story, I meant it.”
“It’s not a nice story, Lex. There are no happy endings.”
“Your story’s not over yet. You can make it end any way you want.”
He glanced at our hands, and he rhythmically rubbed his fingertips across my knuckles. “I want to believe that.”
“Then believe it.”
An amused grunt escaped his lips. “Life’s not quite that simple. Not mine, anyway.”
“So tell me about it.”
He reached up and trailed his fingertips along my cheek, his touch sending my heart into a frantic pace. His fingers traced along my jaw until they spanned my neck, cupping my nape and pulling me toward him.
He tilted his head, his lips hovering near mine. I could smell his fresh breath, see his amber eyes studying me. I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to kiss me. The thought both terrified me and thrilled me at the same time. He moved closer, and my breath froze in my lungs.
His touch was innocent enough, but it burned through me, releasing tingles of excitement. I remained motionless for what seemed like an eternity until his lips finally made contact. They were soft and tender, teasing me with a gentleness that left me wanting something more.
As I closed my eyes and leaned into him, he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasting of mint as his tongue sought mine. Grasping his face in my hands, his whiskers rough against my palms, I clung to him as he consumed me. He was sweet and sexy and raw, and the hunger that ripped through my body shocked me.
I knew I should push him away. I should let this moment end in one beautiful kiss. But I didn’t pull back. I didn’t stop him. And I wasn’t sure why.
Something about Mason Cambridge excited me, made me want to ignore the plethora of cautions that popped up in my brain. Maybe it was his easy smile, his light-hearted demeanor. Maybe it was his magnetism, some unexplained draw that propelled me towards him. Whatever it was, I could feel it increasing its hold on me. I knew enough now to know that there was more to him than I originally thought, and I wanted to know his story.
He pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath. His lips teased my neck, skimming their way to the hollow just above my collarbone. He made a gentle sucking motion, his tongue warm against my skin. Pulling back, he gently kissed my lips again.
“You don’t know how much I want to tell you my story.” Releasing me, he exhaled. “But I won’t.”
“Why?”
“The only thing worse than a drowning man is a drowning man who pulls someone else under with him.”
“I can swim.”
A half-cocked smile reached his lips. “Not with a rock tied to your ankle.”
He stood and scooped up his glass of water. “I think I’ll go back to bed in hopes that I’ll wake up later minus the hangover.”
I stood up, too, and motioned toward the kitchen. “You want me to fix you some toast or get you some crackers?”
“No, but do you have plans tonight?”
“No. I have a meeting this afternoon, but nothing tonight.”
“Good. Let me make you dinner. You know, a roommate appreciation dinner for putting up with my drunk ass last night.”
“Don’t worry about last night.”
“I insist.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay.”
“My cooking skills are limited, so do you mind having breakfast for dinner?”
A grin broke across my face. “I actually love having breakfast for dinner.”
He pointed at me. “Seven o’clock.”
“Should I bring Hawk? You know, in case of a fire?”
“Hell, no. I don’t want his ugly mug at our dinner party.”
I nodded. “Seven o’clock then.”
***
My meeting lasted longer than I anticipated. It was nearly six-thirty by the time I made it back to our apartment. I quickly showered and pulled on a red sundress. After applying makeup, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and pressed my lips together to smooth my ruby lipstick.
Once I opened the bedroom door, the smell of bacon teased my nostrils.
As I came to the end of the hallway, I saw him in the kitchen, shirtless. His jeans rode low on his hips.
“Shit!” He grabbed the handle of the skillet, and using a spatula, dumped a pile of scrambled eggs on each of two plates waiting on the bar.
When he glanced up, he noticed me and beamed. “Okay, so the eggs might be a little overdone, but I did manage to cook without setting the kitchen on fire.”
“I’m impressed.”
He barked out a laugh. “Well, don’t be. You haven’t tasted them yet.”
He put a couple of slices of bacon on each plate and pushed them across the bar in front of the stools.
His long legs strode to the opposite side of the bar, and he pulled my chair out for me. “Have a seat. What would you like to drink? Milk? Juice?”
“Juice.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot the toast. Do you want toast?”
“No, this is fine.” I watched him as he went back to the kitchen to pour juice. “Are you over your hangover?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He loaded two slices of bread in the toaster. “Toast’ll be done in a sec.” He set a glass of juice down in front of me. When the toast popped up, he slathered butter and jelly on them and put one on each of our plates.
“Thank you.”
He walked back around the bar and sat down beside me.
I tasted the eggs. “This is good.”
“It won’t do much more than chase away the hunger pains, but…I wanted to do something to let you know that I appreciate what you did last night. You’re a good roommate, Lexi. I’m going to miss you when you get your own place.”
“We’ll still see each other at work.”
“I know, but it won’t be the same.”
We ate in silence a few moments.
“You look very beautiful,” he complimented as he rubbed his hand across his bare chest. “I guess I’m a little underdressed. Maybe I should go put on a shirt.”
“No.”
He choked on his food and took a long swig of juice. The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Why, Lexi. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked looking at my chest.”
My faced burned, and I concentrated on the bacon in my hands. I could feel his gaze scorch my flesh. I tried to think of something to say, but I’d pretty much been busted.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I like looking at your chest, too.”
My eyes flew to his face, and I didn’t know whether to slap him or hug him.
“I’s just messing with ya.” His eyes were alight with mischief. “Sort of.”
Unable to come up with a response, I stuffed the bacon in my mouth.
“So,” he drawled out, clearly looking to change the topic of conversation as we finished our meal, “we both have Friday night off. Why don’t we invite Seren, Cade, and Hawk over?”
“I have to work Friday.”
“You do?” He cleared away our plates and put them in the sink.
I followed him into the kitchen, rinsed them, and loaded the dishwasher. “Yeah.”
“Are you working with Daniel, the bartender on the other shift?”
“No, I’m going to wait tables.”
/> “Wait tables? Why?”
“I just wanted to try it. Spanky said it would be okay.” I leaned back against the counter.
“But you’d make a lot more money bartending.”
“It’s just a temporary thing.”
“Alrighty then. If that’s what you want.”
He stared at my lips, and I swallowed, my self-consciousness making me press them together to smooth my lipstick.
“You really shouldn’t do that in front of me.”
“Do what?”
“Draw my attention to your lips. Especially when they’re red. Red’s my favorite.”
He flattened his hand out against the counter on each side of me, trapping me between his muscular arms.
My breathing became erratic as he closed in on me. “You can’t kiss me.”
He pulled his head back and cocked his brows. “I can’t?”
“No.”
“Why the hell not? I’m pretty sure you liked it when we kissed earlier today.”
I lowered my lashes. “I did.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
I lifted my eyes to his. “I want you to tell me your story first.”
Chapter 8
Fortune Teller
Mason
She wanted to know my story?
I was pretty sure she was the only girl I’d ever wanted to kiss who lined out requirements before the deed could take place. And I’d kissed plenty.
Had it been anyone else, I would have walked away. But it was Lexi. And she stared at me now with those wide brown eyes, her plump, red lips beckoning to me.
“I know how this ends. I tell you my story, and you run the other way like a sweet angel with the devil nipping at your heels.”
She pursed her lips, and I was mesmerized with the urge to suck on her bottom lip until she opened to me.
“I never said I was a sweet angel.”
“You didn’t have to. If there’s anything a devil knows, it’s when he’s in the presence of an angel, and a beautiful angel at that.”
“Then how ‘bout we strike a deal?”
“What are you offering?” I leaned in closer to her, appreciating her light floral scent.
“I’ll kiss you first, but then you have to tell me your story.”
“You kiss me first, and I’ll tell you part of my story. You don’t get to earn it all at once.”
“Fair enough.” She closed her eyes, and I looked at her face, her dark lashes fanned across her cheek, her red lips slightly parted. I heard her intake of breath.
Her eyes flipped open. “What are you waiting for?”
“You’re supposed to kiss me, remember?”
“You know what I meant.”
“I know what you said.”
She took a deep breath. “Fine.”
I stood still, watching as she chewed on her lip, her white teeth contrasting sharply against the glossy red.
She released her lip, closed her eyes, and pressed her mouth against mine. It didn’t take much contact for me to take over the kiss. I didn’t know why I found her so damn irresistible. Maybe it was because she wanted more from me than just a night of pleasure. In the last few weeks, I’d come to consider her more than just a temporary roommate. She was my friend. My beautiful, sweet, sexy friend. I knew she was attracted to me, same as I was to her, but she also seemed to genuinely care.
I may have been drunk last night, but I remembered the feel of her hands on my face, the gentleness in her voice, the concern etched on her brow.
Her presence had been like a soothing balm to my tortured state of mind. When was the last time anyone cared about what was bothering me?
Her hands slipped around my waist, and I wondered if she’d even realized it. She was kissing me with as much fervor as I was kissing her, and I could do nothing to prevent my body’s reaction to her desire.
Gripping her by the waist, I picked her up and set her on the edge of the counter, never interrupting our kiss. During the shift, her hands had wrapped around my neck, and she clung to me for support.
My hands found her knees, and I kneaded her silky flesh as my fingers worked their way under the hem of her dress. My thumbs stroked her inner thighs, teasing her as they got ever closer to the thin barrier of her panties.
She stopped the kiss, her breath coming out in broken pants. She leaned her head against the cabinet, her eyes closed. There were plenty of things in this world that I knew nothing about, but if there was one thing I did know, it was women. And Lexi was about as turned on as any man could ever hope.
While massaging with one hand, I used the other to push her skirt up until I could see a scrap of black transparent silk. My thumbs began rhythmically stroking her inner thighs again. Getting closer and closer. When I could see her physically squirming, I brushed my thumb against the center of her core. Her panties were damp, and I closed my eyes, trying to fight my own needs as I focused on hers.
She gasped.
And I stroked.
“Mason, we shouldn’t….” She pushed against my chest.
I captured her lips with mine and kissed her while I continued to tease. “I’ll stop if that’s what you want,” I whispered. She looked at me with hooded eyes. “But you feel so damn good. Let me feel you, Lex. I promise it’ll go no further than this. Just let me touch you.”
She swallowed, her chest heaving.
“Okay?”
She gave me the slightest nod, and that was all the indication I needed. I pushed her thighs apart and slipped my thumb beneath the fabric, parting her flesh.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and she gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. Her response excited me, and I wondered how long it’d been since a man had made her feel this way.
As I stroked and rubbed and teased, her neck arched. Her eyes were closed, her breathing labored. I knew she was getting close.
I withdrew my hands, and her eyes flew open.
“Mason,” she whispered in a breathy rush. This time, she wasn’t trying to stop me. She was begging me not to stop.
I reached up to each side of her hips and grabbed the waist of her panties, pulling them down to her knees. “Don’t worry, love. I’m going to take care of you.” Hastily removing her black strappy heels, I set them gingerly on the floor. Then, in one swift motion, I discarded her panties.
My thumb once again found her sweet spot, and I caressed her in a sensual rhythm until she squirmed beneath my hands. She clutched my shoulders and arched her body.
Desire consumed my thoughts, and I was so freaking hard, it was difficult to think about anything but my own release. But this wasn’t about me.
Forcing myself to focus on Lexi, I parted her flesh with one hand, while a finger from my opposite hand slowly entered her. I continued to alternate between withdrawing and plunging deeper, while her body accommodated me. She was tight and hot, and it didn’t take long until she was shuddering in my arms, tiny puffs of air being forced from her lungs.
I watched her face, wanting to remember every detail: the way her dark lashes fluttered along her cheek as she creased her brow in concentration, the way her red lips pursed together then slightly parted as a ragged breath escaped, the way her artery pulsed as she arched her slender neck.
Remembering the way she had cradled my face in her hands last night, I kissed the hollow above her collarbone as I slowly withdrew from her. A guy could get used to having a girl like Lexi around.
I picked her up by the waist and lowered her to the floor, her hands resting on my biceps.
“You should get dressed,” I said hoarsely. She stared at me, her eyes assessing my face. I’m sure she wondered what this meant for us, just like I did.
Contemplating another kiss, I leaned toward her, but then I pulled back and turned to go toward the hall.
“Mason?”
I stopped, but I didn’t look back. I angled my head, and I could feel my hair brush across my bare shoulders. “Yes?”
/>
“You promised.”
“When you’re ready, come to my room.”
After washing up and trying to think of mundane things to alleviate my erection, I lay on my bed, thinking about how much money in tips I needed to make in the coming week.
A half hour later, a soft tap sounded on my door. “Come in.”
Lexi entered. While she still wasn’t wearing her shoes, she did look a little more composed. I wondered if she was wearing anything under her skirt but thought it better that I turn my brain toward more wholesome thoughts in an effort to keep my body under control.
She crawled on the bed and stretched out on the pillow beside me. I motioned for her to come closer, and she laid her head on my shoulder as I wrapped my arm around her waist.
She curled into my side. “Do you mind having company?”
“Not if it’s you.”
She was quiet as she lay beside me, her arms folded between us.
I exhaled, dreading the questions that were probably tumbling around in her mind.
“I don’t usually…you know.” Her soft words made me smile, and I could tell she found her situation awkward.
“What? Attack an unsuspecting male and force yourself on him?”
She released a gasp of disbelief. “You are the furthest thing from an unsuspecting male I’ve ever encountered, and I did not force myself on you.”
“Then you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“You’re going to make me say it?”
“Say what?”
She hit me in the side with the back of her hand. “I don’t usually let things go that far…not without a relationship.” She emitted a groan. “I mean…I’m not asking for a relationship. I just don’t….”
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t usually tell girls my story…not without a relationship. And I haven’t had a serious relationship since….”
When I didn’t continue, she asked, “Since when?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She sat up and repositioned herself in the bed, looking damn near delicious with her hair cascading sensually over her shoulder. Facing me, she propped herself up on her arm as she leaned against me and curled her legs out beside her. “It matters to me.”
Wasted Page 7
