Metamorphosis (Book Boyfriend Series 1)

by Erin Noelle

  Me (5:36 p.m.) Can’t tonight. Evie’s parents came to town today

  Mason (5:37 p.m.) Cool. Will call tomorrow

  That was the best I could come up with that wasn’t a lie. He seemed to accept my reason for now, but I knew he would start asking questions if I avoided him for more than a couple days.

  A half-hour or so passed, and I continued to stare into nothingness. I decided to do some research online about the grieving process. I hoped I would come across something that would perhaps make me feel a little better, or at least reassure me how and what I was feeling was somewhat normal. As I surfed from site to site, I came across one in particular that caught my interest. The intent of the page was to offer free tools and support for anyone grieving a loss of someone special in their life. It labeled itself “a healing place.”

  There were pages of inspirational quotes and writings, suggestions of ways to honor the lost loved one, and other ideas and exercises to assist in surviving loss. However, one section of the site was completely devoted to butterflies and their symbolism of transformation, rebirth, and renewal. The butterfly was explained to not only represent the deceased, who in their ultimate transformation changed from their human body to the eternal soul bound for heavenly bliss, but also the bereaved, who struggled to deal with loss and unwelcomed life-altering adjustments.

  I continued to read through some of the material when I came across a quote that really spoke to me. It reminded me of both Evie and me.

  Like the butterfly,

  I have the strength and the hope to believe

  In time

  I will emerge from my cocoon…

  Transformed.

  —Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS

  I read those five lines over and over until an idea crept into my mind, and suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. After a quick Google search of nearby tattoo parlors and directions, I jumped up and went to my room to get dressed and pack an overnight bag. Minutes later, I was out the door.

  I pulled into the parking lot of a strip center that was only about ten minutes from campus. I was nervous as hell, and making the decision to get a tattoo the day after the most important person in my life died probably wasn’t the best idea. But I was there, and I refused to back out. I needed to do it for so many reasons. The tattoo would not only be to memorialize Evie, but also to remind myself of my hope and faith that fairy tale endings did indeed exist and my own transformation from a sheltered, inexperienced girl to a young woman forced to deal with love, lust, and loss—my own metamorphosis.

  A couple hours later, I was a couple hundred dollars poorer and my left calf was on fire, but I couldn’t have been happier at the image that stared back at me when I looked at it. I couldn’t wait to get to Ash’s place to show him. I knew he would be shocked to see what I had done. I hoped he wouldn’t mind I used his sketch as the basis of my body art without asking him first.

  I quickly pushed the thought away. I was sure he’d be flattered I loved it so much. The tattoo artist had done a wonderful job of translating the photo on my phone to the image permanently inked into my skin. I pulled into the driveway, ran up the walkway, and knocked firmly on the door. Meg greeted me with a strange look on her face.

  “Scarlett, hi! Are you okay? Did you try to call? Is everything all right?” She looked back over her shoulder down the hall.

  “Yeah, I just reconsidered y’all’s offer for company, so I thought I’d come stay here, if that’s okay? My place is a little cramped compared to this house, and I really just don’t want to be there.” I walked into the house and noticed that neither Jess nor Ash was in the living room or kitchen.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  Meg chewed nervously on her lip. “Jess is at Jacob’s and Ash is in his room.”

  “Okay, I’ll let him know I’m here and put my bag up,” I said as I walked to his closed door. I contemplated whether I should tell him immediately about my new addition or wait and see how long it took him to notice.

  “Scarlett, wait.” She started to follow me, but it was too late. I opened Ash’s door to find a topless blonde straddling his naked body on his bed.

  “Oh my God,” I said as I dropped my bag on the floor. I wasn’t sure if it was my voice or the sound of the small suitcase hitting the hardwood that alerted them to my presence, but as soon as they saw me standing in the door, the blonde dove for an article of clothing and Ash’s horrified eyes locked onto mine. It was a damn good thing for everyone involved that my near comatose state of feeling was still in place and I hadn’t morphed into the anger phase of my grieving yet. Otherwise, I may have literally killed someone.

  “Scarlett, please, this isn’t what it looks like,” Ash tried to explain as he covered up his body with his comforter. Blondie had rolled off the other side of the bed and was hiding from me on the floor while trying to redress.

  “Show me a little fucking respect and don’t feed me that God-forsaken line!” I sputtered. “I’m not one of your stupid whores; nor am I your fucking girlfriend, so you don’t owe me an explanation. I just thought you might give your dick one fucking night off to mourn the loss of someone who I thought you considered your friend, or at least be there for your other friends while they pay their respects! But obviously I was wrong. At least I know where I rank. It’s probably best I figure this all out now anyway, because I didn’t have very far to fall to feel the rocky bottom under my feet!”

  “She just showed up without calling,” he pleaded. “Butterfly, don’t—”

  “Don’t fucking ‘butterfly’ me! I am not falling for that shit again. Because of you, I will cringe every time I see a goddamned butterfly again for the rest of my life. You owe an entire species an apology!” I guess I’ll be wearing long pants every day for the rest of my life or until I can afford to get this damn thing removed. I was such a dumbass. I turned around and grabbed my bag off the floor. I didn’t even turn around to utter the last words I would ever say to the guy I loved. “I would have gone to hell and back for you, Ash. Anything. I would have done anything, but instead, you broke my psyche.”

  I marched past Meg, out of the house, and directly into the car. I drove around the block just to get out of sight of the house, and I pulled my phone out of my purse. Before I could even think, my fingers made my decision for me.

  Me (9:10 p.m.): Still want to hang out?

  Mason (9:11p.m.): Yeah, I’ll come pick you up

  Me (9:11p.m.): Not necessary, I’m on my way to your house.

  Me (9:11p.m.): I need you.

  Mason (9:12p.m.) I’m waiting

  Me (9:12p.m.): Wait naked.

  Twenty-Seven

  Mason wasn’t naked when I arrived at his apartment, not that I really expected him to be, but he did look incredibly sexy in his pajama pants and wife beater when he opened the door. I, on the other hand, was wearing pathetic like it was a designer label. Of course it had started raining on my drive over, so by the time I dashed from the car to his front door, I was a soaked mess. My stringy hair stuck to the sides of my face, my clothes doubled in weight and clung to my shivering body, and I was sure that any remnant of mascara I had on was streaked down my face. As soon as he saw me, he quickly ushered me inside.

  “Scarlett, are you okay?” he asked, concerned. “Come in here. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up.”

  He did not wait for me to answer before pulling me by the hand directly to bathroom and making me strip. I quickly ridded myself of my shirt and pants, and my bra was soon to follow. I heard him suck in a breath as I stepped out of my panties, leaving me stark naked in front of him. I stared vehemently into his gray eyes; I wanted him to touch me and to hold me and to kiss me until I was numb. I felt so vulnerable, both physically and emotionally, standing there as Mason’s hungry gaze took in my body like it was the first time he had seen me without clothes. Sensing my need for physical contact, he enveloped me in his arms tight against his body, and I exhaled a breath I didn’t even k
now I was holding.

  “I missed you too, angel,” Mason joked. “Did Evie not keep you warm at night while Max and I were gone?”

  I flinched when he said Evie’s name; I had forgotten he didn’t know. The thought of her made me squeeze his neck even tighter.

  “I guess that’s a no? Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you and make sure you sleep soundly,” he was still teasing, but his voice had dropped an octave into a seductive rumble. “I also see you have a surprise for me.” His eyes focused on the angry red skin on my outer calf.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I’m a little shocked to be honest. You’ve never told me that you wanted a tattoo. I would’ve gone with you.” He seemed a little disappointed I didn’t include him.

  “I didn’t really know I was getting it until the last minute. It was a rash decision I’m afraid I’m already regretting,” I said truthfully.

  “It looks really fresh. When did you get it done?”

  “Today.”

  “Well, I like it.” Mason gave me a goofy grin I couldn’t help but smile back at. “Now you only need twenty or thirty more and you can look like me.”

  “I think this is going to be it for me.” It was already one too many.

  “I’m assuming there’s a sentimental meaning behind it, since it has those names in it? Something you brought in for them to do?”

  I just nodded. I knew he wanted me to tell him the story behind it, why I had chosen that particular design, but I decided not to tell him about Evie’s death quite yet. I wasn’t ready to relive the entire event, and my brain needed an escape from analyzing the what-ifs and the what-nows that had begun while I sat alone in my living room earlier. Also, I didn’t want his pity. I wanted him to be with me because he wanted to be, not because he felt like he needed to make my hurting feel better, like it was some duty. Not like Ash.

  I kissed his neck and deflected the conversation off of any mention of Evie. “I did miss you, smartass.” I pulled back slightly and smirked. I traced my finger down his jawline. “Are you ready to show me just how much you missed me?”

  He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he captured my mouth with his and kissed me with intense passion and fervor. There was no gentle brushing of the lips or timid touching of tongues; it was open mouths, clashing teeth, dueling tongues, and roaming hands. He lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist, and he walked us out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. Our mouths never left one another’s.

  Mason lowered me onto the bed with my head nestled into the pillows. He hovered over me still completely dressed, and I reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. He obliged, and I was rewarded with the sight of his impressive upper body. I could never get tired of studying the tattoos that covered him. I loved tracing each one, first with my finger and then with my tongue. I looked down at his pants; they needed to go too. I unknowingly said the last phrase aloud, and he shook his head and smiled.

  “Not yet. First, I’m going to show you just how much I missed you, angel. Now, put your hands above your head and grab hold of the headboard. Don’t move your hands. Just enjoy me enjoying you.”

  I didn’t think twice. I lifted my arms above my head and held the wooden slats tightly. I needed this so fucking badly. I needed to forget everything else.

  He lowered himself on top of me to where our bodies were pressed against each other, but not to the point where his weight was heavy on me. He started at the place right behind my ear that I knew he loved and then made his way down my body, exploring every square inch of me with either his hands, his lips, or his tongue. He left behind a wake of fire, his touch searing my skin and leaving a warmth entrenched deep inside me.

  Mason traveled all the way down my leg to my foot and then back up again. He was extremely careful around the raised and irritated skin on my leg. When he reached my already slick folds, he didn’t hesitate to extend the treatment to my most private of areas. He utilized all his weapons of mass pleasure at once—his tongue flicking my clit, his mouth sucking on my lips, and his fingers deep inside my core.

  It didn’t take him long to bring me to my first orgasm. He knew my body probably as well as he knew his own, and he loved knowing he could bring me to the edge and then push me over so fast. I sure as hell didn’t mind either. I had heard that many girls didn’t experience regular orgasms, either because the guy they were with didn’t care whether or not she came or didn’t know how to bring her there. I guess I lucked out that my sex coach without sex was so experienced, and I often got to experience multiple orgasms in a night, all by the magic he worked with his hands and mouth.

  It took me several minutes to come down from my trip into sensual outer space. Mason continued working his way up my body, rubbing and kissing me, until he reached my face. He hesitated to kiss me. I had never kissed him on the mouth after he went down on me, but for some reason, at that moment, tasting myself on Mason’s mouth seemed like the most natural thing to do.

  I released the headboard and grabbed the back of his head while rising up to meet his mouth halfway. It was the sexiest kiss I ever experienced, and by the sounds that came from Mason, I think he felt the same. I felt his cock jerk on my stomach, and my body instinctively pushed against him. We groaned into each other’s mouth, both struggling against the carnal need that was fighting to be fulfilled.

  “Scarlett, you have no idea. I’m trying…” he whispered. I cut him off by putting my index finger over his lips to shush him. I used my other hand to reach between our bodies and push down on the elastic band of his pants. He lifted his body so that I could rid him of his last piece of clothing.

  When he lowered himself back on top of me, his erection was pressed against my clit and pubic bone. The pressure on my nub alone was enough to drive me crazy with lust. He kissed me softer and slower than he had earlier. I appreciated he was trying to be gentle and tender, but my body was hungry and desperate.

  “More. I need more,” I panted, wiggling my body against his.

  Mason’s body stilled and he lifted up so we were no longer touching. I whimpered at the loss of contact. He locked his eyes on mine. “Scarlett, you said you didn’t want to. Please don’t… I can’t say no to you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “I want it to mean something for you. You need to love the person you’re with the first time, make it special. Look, I am hopelessly in love with you, but I know you love Ash… and sometimes that’s just the way things work out. But I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. Like I’ve never done with anyone else.” He lowered his eyes at his confession.

  I was shocked to hear Mason say he was in love with me, but I selfishly wouldn’t give that moment back for anything—the first time a guy said he loves me. It made me feel comforted and wanted and alive. I knew I loved Ash, but I was so angry at him. And I was so angry at Evie for dying and leaving me alone. Mason’s touch was the only thing that made me feel better, and damn it, I deserved to feel better. So, I did the most selfish thing I could do.

  I lied.

  I cupped Mason’s face in my hands and forced him to look at me as I said the words. “I love you, Rat. I love you so much, and I want you to make love to me right now.”

  Twenty-Eight

  “I love you, Rat. I love you so much, and I want you to make love to me right now.”

  The words that had just tumbled from my mouth echoed loudly through my head. Still cupping his face in my hands just centimeters from my own, I looked into Mason’s hooded eyes to gauge his reaction to my deceitful declaration of love. I feared he would question my intent or sincerity, but instead, his gray orbs lit up and sparkled down at me.

  “Say it again,” he whispered, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

  I took a deep breath and made the final decision to see this thing through. Lying flat on my back with his beautifully massive frame hovering over me, I felt safe, protected, and cherished in his presence. Bu
t most importantly, I didn’t feel alone. I couldn’t do alone.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “And what else?” He leaned down to lightly kiss my lips but made sure to simultaneously lower the weight of his hips so that his erection was once again pressed against my clit. My hips naturally lifted up to his to increase the friction, and I moaned softly into his mouth.

  “Make love to me, Mason. I need you inside me,” I panted.

  “My pleasure, angel,” he drawled and blanketed himself over me.

  I had thought the sexual interactions Mason and I had shared before were passionate, but nothing could have prepared me for the intensity that followed those three words.

  At first, he kissed me ever so delicately and purposefully, taking his sweet time assaulting my mouth and tongue with his own. My hands ran through his barely-there dark hair and grabbed the back of his neck. I pulled down on him, indicating I wanted him to increase the force, but instead he withdrew from my mouth and shook his head at me.

  Mason’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Slow down, angel. We aren’t in any rush.” He ran his nose across my jawbone to my ear at a devastatingly sluggish pace, all the while making slow, deliberate circles with his hips against mine, causing the buzzing ache between my legs to continue to build. When he finally reached my ear, he bit down on the lobe, and I groaned with pleasure. He continued his pecking and nipping down my neck and sternum until he had shimmied himself down the bed to be eye-level with my breasts. His hard cock was no longer in contact with my body, and I sighed at the absence; however, Mason quickly rerouted my thoughts as he drew one of my nipples between his teeth and pinched the other at the same time. I squealed at the initial flash of pain but immensely enjoyed the warm, wet tongue that followed, kissing and sucking the discomfort away. He spent equal amount of time on each heavy breast, and the anticipation building inside me was reaching a dangerous level. I wiggled against him, and I could feel him laugh against my sensitive flesh.