Black Roses (A Mitchell Sisters Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  My heart sinks a little thinking how that used to be Charlie. I don’t even know where she is right now. She said she needed time on her own. Time to not rely on me to justify her very existence. I don’t even have a phone on which to stalk her. I wonder if she will ever be lucky enough to find a guy like Mason. Surely more of them exist. My sisters and I couldn’t have landed the only three selfless men on the planet. The three of us had to trudge through some deep shit to come out on the other side. Charlie—she’s still entrenched in her hell.

  My eyes become heavy and I drift off thinking of my best friend.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Thank God.”

  Mason’s words wake me, along with the jolting bumps of the plane’s wheels touching the ground.

  I look at him with sleepy eyes and laugh. “Not a fan of flying?”

  “It’s not that,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I never thought I’d get you back here. A few days ago, when I found out you left, I thought you’d never come back. I thought you got on that plane and took my fucking heart with you.” His icy-blue eyes stare into mine. “So yes—thank God.”

  My heart surges forward in my chest, clawing its way to him. Still not completely at ease saying those three little words, I tell him, “I’m glad I’m moving to New York.”

  He nods, his features etched with emotion because he gets me. “I love you too, Piper Mitchell.”

  He reaches his hand behind my neck and pulls my face to his, kissing me with such intensity and passion that several rows of people around us break out in cheerful applause.

  “Sweetheart?” he says, his voice extracting me from my daze.

  I look up to see him standing, waiting for me to exit my seat. It appears he kissed me so senseless, I didn’t even feel the plane taxi up to the gate.

  He grabs our one small bag from the overhead bin, its only contents being my new running shoes and a jacket, along with a few toiletries I’d picked up. We left most of our sweaty, stinky, days-old clothes on the floor of the hotel room.

  I smile once again at the shirt he’s wearing. It was the only one at the hotel gift shop that fit him. And even at that, his biceps are stretching the material to within an inch of its life. The horizontal red and yellow stripes with the Spanish coat of arms decorate the oh-so-touristy t-shirt.

  And knowing he’s totally commando under his jeans makes me want to find a shower before he drops me off at Skylar’s.

  He catches me appraising him. Raising an eyebrow, he says, “Do you think the airport has any showers?”

  Yeah. It’s creepy how much he gets me.

  ~ ~ ~

  Two pairs of red puffy eyes stare back at me, mirroring my own that are drowning in emotion. Telling my sisters was hard, but just as Mason promised, each time I talk about it, I push the demons further and further away. And the uninhibited cry I shared with them was cathartic.

  “I just wish I would have known,” Baylor says. “I would have helped you like you helped me.”

  I shake my head. “You knowing back then would have made it worse. You had a child. You would have tried to talk me out of it. But the circumstances were different, Bay. I just couldn’t.”

  “Cassidy is a flaming bitch,” she says. “As if things couldn’t get worse for you, she tried to sabotage your relationship by throwing Mason under the bus.”

  Both of my sisters lunge forward and capture me into the couch with a long hug, muttering apologies along with words of encouragement.

  “I knew it,” Skylar says, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I knew all along Mason would be good for you—that he was the one.”

  Baylor narrows her eyes at her. “Since when did you become the romantic sister?”

  We all share a much needed laugh.

  “So you’re staying?” Baylor asks.

  My nod is met with shrieks of excitement.

  “You can work for me. Be my assistant,” Baylor says.

  “Oh, no,” Skylar protests. “You’re not taking my best waitress.”

  “Better than Mindy?” Baylor asks.

  “Mindy’s good, but she sleeps with the customers. Sometimes that’s not so good for business.”

  Skylar’s comment reminds me of Charlie. I think of my best friend while they continue arguing over who’s going to get me to work for them.

  “Hold on, guys. I’ve got a lot to figure out, but none of it will happen tonight. Right now I just want to call my . . . my, uh, boyfriend.”

  More juvenile squeals come from my sisters.

  Boyfriend. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. It felt good. Hell, it felt great. Agreeable. Right.

  “I need to borrow a phone to call him. As you know, I lost mine.”

  Skylar shoves hers at me and I tap on the screen until I find his name. It only rings once.

  “Skylar, is she okay?” His concern jumps through the phone.

  “Not Skylar. Piper. I lost my phone, remember?”

  “Right. Are you okay? Can I come over?” he asks.

  “Yes. That’s why I’m calling. I mean, if you’re not too tired.”

  “Tired?” he asks, his voice laced with maniacal amusement. “Go to the front door, Piper.”

  “What?”

  “Just go, sweetheart.”

  I walk to the door, my sisters trailing behind me. When I open it, Mason is leaning against the railing, holding out his phone, shrugging.

  I look down at my watch. He dropped me off three hours ago. Then I look at the ridiculously tight t-shirt he’s still wearing, and I laugh. “You couldn’t at least change out of the silly shirt?”

  “Silly?” he asks, looking down on it, running a hand over the shirt like it’s a fine piece of art. “This is my new favorite shirt. It’s a reminder of the day we finally got together. I’m never getting rid of it.”

  Skylar practically runs me down on her quest to reach Mason. She hugs him hard and he has to catch himself on the railing to keep them from tumbling down the porch steps. “Thank you, Mason. Thank you for bringing her back to us.”

  They smile and share a look. I know her words run deeper than the obvious meaning.

  Baylor pulls Skylar away so she can have her turn at Mason. “And you guys call me a romantic?”

  When my sisters are done accosting my boyfriend, we go back into the townhouse. Baylor and Skylar both reach for their purses and share another one of their looks. “We’re going to Mom’s to get the kids,” Baylor says. “We’ll probably stay for dinner.”

  “Yeah, and Griffin is out of town on a shoot, so nobody will be home for hours,” Skylar adds.

  Mason laughs, turning to me. “Your sisters are very subtle.”

  I hand Skylar her phone on their way out. Mason eyeballs the exchange. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Here take mine. I don’t want you without one. I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.”

  I stare at his phone in my hand. Allowing another human to access one’s phone is a display of utmost confidence and loyalty. I’m touched that he trusts me with this potentially sensitive information.

  “I can get my own phone, Mason.”

  He pulls me into a hug, smelling my hair as if he hasn’t seen me in three months, not three hours. “I know you can. But for once, maybe you could let someone do something for you.”

  He leans over and sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me over to the stairs. “Like this,” he says. “I know you are perfectly capable of climbing these stairs on your own.” He walks up the steps with me in his arms, as if my weight is of no more consequence than a pillow—or maybe a football. “But what would be the fun in that?”

  I giggle, burying my face in his neck. Even through the lingering scent of the hotel soap, he smells inherently Mason. Manly. Rugged. Spicy.

  Heavenly.

  chapter thirty

  mason

  I walk straight through her bedroom into her ensuite bath. “Tell the truth,” I say, a sly grin tugging at the corners of my mouth
. “You’ve been fantasizing about ripping this t-shirt right off me since I put it on.”

  I stand her on the tile and she gives me her best dramatic groupie performance. “Oh. My. God.” She fans herself with her hand. “It’s Mason Lawrence. You are so hot. Pick me, babe. Please, pick me!”

  My eyebrows shoot up and I pull her close. Close enough for her to feel my burgeoning erection. “Call me that again,” I insist.

  She narrows her eyes at me as she calls me by my full name. “Uh, Mason Lawrence?”

  “The other name,” I utter seductively between gritted teeth.

  I watch it dawn on her as she replays her words in her head. Then she blushes. “Babe?”

  I nod. “That’s the one. Say it again.”

  Smiling, she rises on her toes and puts her hands behind my neck, pulling my ear down to her mouth. “I want to rip that Spaniard shirt right off your smokin’ hot body,” —she pauses intentionally as her hot breath flows over my neck— “babe.”

  “Shit,” I belt out in passionate desperation. “Shower. Now.”

  I look around the large bathroom. When Griffin redecorated, he gave the guest room an ensuite almost as ornate and grand as the master. I eye the Jacuzzi tub in the corner and raise a brow at Piper. “Or maybe a bath?”

  “Bath?” She glances over at it and then back at me. She shrugs seductively and then nods. “I don’t have bad dreams about baths.”

  I pick her up and she wraps her legs around me. She crushes her mouth on mine, her full sexy lips raw and unapologetic as she forcefully demands more with her hot and hungry tongue. My lips part for her and she moans into my mouth.

  I walk backwards, Piper still in my arms, draped over me. When the backs of my legs hit the tub, I sit us down on the edge, reaching over to turn on the water, our mouths never breaking the seal.

  When I turn away to plug the tub, she says, “As much as I love this shirt, I’d rather see it on the floor.” She traces the outline of the flag, my muscles twitching underneath the cheap cotton.

  She’s become bold and confident with me in the last twenty-four hours. And it’s more than a little sexy. I make quick work of following her directions and deposit my shirt in a crumpled ball at her feet.

  Her gaze falls to my tattoo. Her fingers follow the path of her eyes and she touches my still-tender skin. “Did it hurt much?” she asks.

  I lift my hand, pulling back her hair before I place a kiss on the rose etched into the skin below her right ear. “Not as much as yours,” I whisper.

  Her eyes tear up, fully understanding the deeper meaning of my words.

  Then she smiles. “You know, if we don’t work out, you may have a hard time finding a woman named Roxane. It’s not a very popular name. Maybe you should have gotten something more common, say ‘Kate’ from The Taming of the Shrew. I wanted to play her, too.”

  “Kate, huh?” I laugh. “There isn’t a shred of doubt in my mind that I will ever need to find someone else to fit my tattoo. I’m in this for the duration. All four quarters. You are my Super Bowl, sweetheart. As far as I’m concerned I’m your first, your last, and everything in between.”

  She nods, failing to hold back the tears that have pooled in her gorgeous emerald eyes.

  With my thumbs, I wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Then I kiss her. I kiss her like there’s no tomorrow. I kiss her like she’s the very air I need to breathe. “I love you, sweetheart,” I whisper, moving my mouth to her neck. “I love you, my beautiful Roxane.” I take her shirt off and lower my lips to her sensuous collar bone. “I love you, Piper Mitchell.”

  She hastily removes her bra and pulls me up for another kiss. She makes love to my mouth the way I want to make love to her body. “I love you too, babe,” she breathes into my mouth.

  A groan of approval vibrates through me as my hands seek out her breasts at the same time that she finds the zipper on my jeans.

  We swiftly remove each other’s jeans. I take a moment to fish a condom out of my pocket. I place it next to us before I step into the tub and turn off the water. Then I offer her my hand.

  She carefully steps in beside me, her flesh erupting in goosebumps from the change in temperature. “I want to show you how much, Mason.” She looks at me with lidded eyes full of carnal need. Then she takes hold of my hard shaft and lowers herself to her knees in the warm water.

  I sigh, victory and caution battling in my head. I sit on the edge of the tub. “You don’t have to show me like this, Piper. There are other ways—”

  Her lips on my dick shut me up as heated licks of sensation torment me. A ragged gasp of satisfaction coats my throat. I reach down and run my fingers through her hair, being careful not to pull her hard against me.

  As she takes me fully into her mouth, my world narrows to nothing but her touch. And when her hand reaches between my legs to cup my balls, I brace myself against the side of the tub as every cell in my body erupts with need. “I’m gonna come, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes dart up to mine and I detect a fleeting look of unease.

  Some girls are simply not comfortable with this. Girls who do this all the time even. Girls who haven’t been traumatized. I pull myself back, removing her lips from me. But I’m beyond the point of no return, so I grasp myself in my left hand, pumping a few times until shudders wrack my body. Then the tidal wave of sensation she built within me squirts spectacularly onto her chest and into the water.

  With a soft sigh, the edges of her lips curl. “Next time, I’m finishing that,” she says.

  My eyes close and my languid body slumps back into the wall above the tub. I’ve never been more content or at ease with a woman in my life. “Next time, I’ll let you.”

  I sink down into the tub, taking much needed air into my lungs. I look at the fruits of her labor still splayed gloriously across her body and I reach for the soap. I squirt some into my hands, getting them lathered up before I lunge forward and clean her body of me.

  Her breasts heave into my hands as I wash them. Her rosy nipples are hard under my fingers; her breath hitching when my thumbs rake over them. “My turn,” I say with a wry grin.

  I pull her against me, and in one swift movement, I reverse our positions and hoist her hips up onto the ledge of the tub. I press her back into the wall before I get up on my knees and worship her breasts with my mouth. I tease and tantalize her stiff peaks while she gazes down on me in appreciation. Pleasuring her while she watches me makes this whole experience better. Hotter. More real.

  She spreads her thighs in invitation and my fingers find her sex. She’s saturated with both her own juices and the bathwater. I reach a hand around her back, pulling myself close to her as I steady her in place. My mouth follows a seductive trail from her chest down across her taut belly until it joins my fingers at her center.

  I’m fully aroused again at the very sight of her—glistening with want of me. My eyes divide their time between watching her face and watching my fingers penetrate her. Her hips rock when I drag my tongue over her quivering clit. Her hands toy with my hair, tugging it furiously when my fingers hit just the right spot inside her. I focus all of my energy on that precise location as my tongue continues to lave her.

  Her legs tighten and the tips of her fingers scrape across my back, heightening my arousal with her punishing nails. My groin jerks in greedy expectation when she throws her head back and rides my tongue as she convulses with pleasure around my fingers.

  Before her body even finishes shuddering, I’ve put on the condom and am pulling her down into the water so she’s straddling me. We look deep into each other as she sheaths me with her. She gasps as I fill her completely, touching the very end of her. Her mouth comes down hard on mine, joining our bodies in so many places, I can’t tell where I end and she begins.

  This indescribable kiss. This surreal connection. It’s like coming home. It’s fucking paradise. I pull back to see that she feels it, too. Tears fill her eyes and I can almost see the light overflowing from her sou
l.

  She’s healing. With every kiss we share and every touch she allows, she exorcises more of her demons.

  She takes total control, working herself upon me. Her petite, slender body begins to rock back and forth on mine as I thank God that this glorious creature came into my life. My heart thunders and emotions saturate me when I realize this woman is mine.

  I want her to feel every single sensation I’m feeling. Inside and out. Spurred by the frantic need building deep inside me, I reach a hand between us and rub slow circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves as she rides me.

  Her raspy breathing and strained moans drive me harder as my other hand helps to control her thrusts upon me. I can’t stop my long ragged groan of release when I feel her clench and tighten around me. Her orgasm tears through me, plunging us simultaneously into the depths of pleasure as we call out to each other with guttural cries of ecstasy.

  I hold her tightly against me, my body curving protectively around hers, our heartbeats racing as she burrows her head into my neck. We stay like this, flesh on flesh—wet, warm and soft—as we slowly calm our breaths.

  A surge of extreme emotion assaults me and I know my life has forever changed because of her presence in it. I never want to be without her—without this—ever again.

  So I tell her. In every way possible.

  Over and over.

  chapter thirty-one

  piper

  I stare down at his phone. The information I have at my fingertips is astounding. It’s a window into one’s soul.

  I fight the urge to pick it up. Look through his pictures. Read his texts. It would be so wrong. But in some way, I feel he expects it of me. Like giving me his phone was an invitation into his deep, dark secrets. Maybe it’s his way of telling me how much he trusts me; how much he loves me. Maybe the way I prove the same thing to him is by not letting curiosity get the better of me.

  I turn the phone face down on my nightstand and let my mind wander to earlier.

  After our bath we laid in bed. He cuddled up behind me as we brainstormed ‘safe’ places to make love. Pretty much any surface in the bathroom, kitchen or living room made the list.