by J. Daniels
I step further into the room and avert my attention to the actual group participating in the lesson. A profound awareness builds around me. Mason’s invitation takes on an entirely different meaning as I smile at the young adults posed on their mats, most of them probably close to my age. All of them sharing similar physical characteristics.
I suddenly feel like the biggest asshole for interpreting his request the way I did.
God, Brooke. Tact. Learn it.
I spot Mason toward the back of the room. He’s helping a young woman hold a pose where her body is forming an upside down V. Her hands and feet flat on the mat. She giggles and drops to her knees, then rolls to her hip. Her laughter is infectious, and soon others join in.
The woman beside me laughs quietly and whispers to the woman standing next to her.
“He’s so great, isn’t he? Look how much they’re all enjoying this!”
I slide closer along the wall, keeping my attention on Mason as he convinces the girl to try again. She shakes her head, grinning, but ultimately going for it and stretching into the pose.
“I know. I was so excited when Kendall wanted to give this a try. Trish said he’s offering this once a week, with a substantial discount. More than half-off. If they like it, I’m all for it, you know? It’s good for them.”
The woman beside me makes an appreciative humming noise. “The world needs more people like him.”
More people like him.
Mason.
With a sigh, my head hits the wall. I gaze across the room at the one person who has completely surprised me in every possible way. From his unconventional dating method, to his irresistible persistence, to his sweet soul he shares with the world.
My Mason.
I begin to take in quick, shallow breaths the longer I stand here. Something shifts, my lungs and other organs making room for my heart to expand and take over.
Who cares, right? Adore him now, stabilize my breathing later.
What? That’s crazy. I need to breathe. More than anything else, I need to keep breathing.
I close my eyes. Breathe, Brooke. I feel myself slipping, sliding under the water and sinking to the bottom.
This is madness. Beautiful, terrifying madness.
I can’t breathe.
I love him.
My eyes fly open. Mason smiles at me. My heart reacts without pause, battering against my sternum.
What.
The.
Fuck . . .
I love him. He made me fall in love with him. That’s exactly what happened. He didn’t give me a choice in this. I’ve never had any control in this situation. From the beginning, it’s been all him.
I bet this was his plan all along. Pull me in. Pull me under.
Well, now I’m fucking drowning, you gorgeous bastard.
In a panic, I move off from the wall and grab Mason’s attention again, waving goodbye and ignoring his puzzled look. Pushing through the door, I dart down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of my car.
I run, and run and run and run.
To the nearest liquor store.
If I’m sinking with this guy, I’m going down my way.
MASON
“Next week, then. Have a good night.”
I wave to everyone, parents and attendees as they leave the studio after class. Trish gives me a gracious look on her way out, silently thanking me for the third time tonight for orchestrating this.
She doesn’t need to thank me. I’ve wanted to get something like this started for years, and without her help spreading the word I’m not sure when or if it would’ve happened. I’m the one who’s grateful. Elated, actually. I’m running on a mysterious energy. The best kind of high. What a difference from yesterday and the day before when I tortured myself by avoiding all contact with Brooke.
Now, I don’t need to avoid her. I just need to find her.
Where the hell did she run off to?
I take the stairs two at a time and burst through the door, stepping out into my loft. After turning on the nearby lamp, I swipe my phone off the table and dial her number. It rings until her voicemail clicks over. My eyes pinch shut.
For fuck’s sake, Brooke.
Worry pricks at my encouraging mood. Is she having a minor freak out? Over-thinking things again? And so soon . . . I was at least hoping for a few days of bliss with her before I had to talk her off another ledge.
I shoot her a quick text, asking if everything is all right, then strip off my shirt and toss it onto a chair.
I step into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. I run my wet hands through my hair and along the back of my neck. My reflection stares back at me, one I recognize from the past two days. Laden with uncertainty and tension.
Fucking hell. She ran out of here. She ran away from me.
As I debate on taking an actual shower to keep myself here and not pacing the streets, a habit I’ve acquired as of recently, a knock sounds on the front door, startling me. I move swiftly through the room and tug on the handle.
Brooke pushes past me the second the door swings open. I inhale a lung full of soft vanilla.
She’s here. That’s a good sign. I begin to breathe a bit easier, my anxious mind starting to settle.
“Hey. You had me worried. I thought maybe you were changing your mind.” I close the door and watch her move into the kitchen.
She sets a bottle on the table. Tall, amber in color. Tequila.
Our eyes lock.
All right. Instead of pulling away, I’m now driving her to drink? Not sure this classifies as progress or not.
“Everything all right, Brooke?”
A small laugh bubbles on her lips. She unscrews the bottle, bringing it to her mouth for a taste. “I am so mad at you right now.”
I watch her take a sip, then another. “Why?”
“Why?” she echoes, pointing at me with the bottle in her hand. Her eyes narrow. “You know exactly why.” Taking another sip, she moves around the room with the bottle, gesturing with her free hand. “How long have you been planning this for, Mason? Since that first day, in front of your studio? Or maybe in the alley when I made you lay it all out there for me? Was this always your motive?”
She takes another sip of tequila as she paces in front of the window.
I rub my jaw, moving closer to the bed. I have no idea what she’s referring to. “Brooke, what exactly . . .”
“I mean, you knew!” she yells, not in anger though. Disbelief maybe? Her voice breaks with a short burst of laughter. “You knew from that first day what I wanted out of this. From that first day. It wasn’t a secret. Then you go and convince me to try things your way, with false intentions, I might add.”
She lifts her head, stopping, staring at me from across the room. Her shoulders relaxing with the breath she expels.
“I only wanted to have sex with you. That’s it. But the more time we spent together, the less I thought about what I wanted. And you, your entire argument was you wanted us to know each other before that happened. To really know each other, right? But you knew me when we went camping. You knew me then, Mason, didn’t you?”
I think about how close I felt to Brooke that weekend, including during her unfortunate tick encounter and the mess that followed. Our talk in the tent before we crashed that first night, and our adventure together the next day.
She’s right. I knew her. Well enough to take things where we both wanted.
“Yeah,” I reply, nodding.
There’s no point in lying about this.
“And you didn’t give in. You didn’t take me that weekend.”
She doesn’t allow me to respond. I don’t really need to anyway. We were both there.
“That’s not all you were waiting for,” she concludes with a keen arch of her brow.
“No.”
“This was never just about us knowing each other.”
“No.”
Shaking her head through a tight laugh, she take
s one last swig of the tequila before setting it on the window ledge. “Who else?” she asks quietly, facing away from me.
I know what she means. I don’t need to ask for clarification on this.
When all of this started with Brooke, I told her I didn’t do a meaningless fuck anymore, but I never told her I didn’t plead for this with anyone else. Or that I never wanted it this bad with someone before.
“No one,” I confess.
I see the quick jerk of her head. I hear her mutter something that sounds an awful lot like “good.” Her voice sounding slightly pacified.
Spinning around, with a steadiness in her eyes, she holds her hands out in front of her. “Well, you did it. Congratulations.”
My eyebrows draw together. I search her face for understanding.
She sighs, staring me down. “I love you, you fucking perfect bastard. You got what you wanted. I’m completely and absolutely in love with you and your little ‘yeahs.’ They kill me. And for the record, I’m pretty sure I loved you that night in the tent so,” she waves her hand. “Opportunity missed. You totally could’ve fucked a cheerleader.”
I feel my lips part, a rush of fervency pitting in the center of my chest and blooming there.
She loves me. My Brooke . . . fuck. Finally.
With a quick exhale, she runs her hands down her face, pressing her palms flat to her cheeks. “Holy shit. Wow. That’s what it feels like to say it.” She blinks, her teeth gnawing at her lip. “Wow,” she whispers.
I cross the room in quick strides, grabbing her face and kissing her harshly. She moans and melts in my arms. The bitter scratch of tequila bursts in my mouth.
“You make me feel crazy,” I tell her.
“Good. You fucking deserve it. I only wanted sex, and now I’m completely screwed. I have no idea what to do with this, you jerk.”
I laugh, taking her mouth again. My tongue moving against hers. My hands roaming down her back and cupping her arse.
“Should I have told you my intentions? Would you have agreed to this if I did?”
“I don’t know.”
We stare at each other. Brooke frowns, her hand flattening to my chest.
“I love how this happened, Mason. How you got me here. I wouldn’t want to change any of that. You made falling in love with you so easy, I didn’t realize I was doing it until it was too late. I think if you would’ve given me a heads up about it happening I might’ve told you to fuck off, and I don’t want to imagine not knowing you. You’re my best friend.” She stands on her toes and kisses me. “And I’m yours, I think.”
Sighing, I crush her against me. “You’re mine. Fuck, you’re everything, Brooke. Tell me again.”
“I love you.” She squeezes my neck, sucking on my lip. “I love you, and I’m not scared. I’m not. Just don’t let go of me, okay?”
“Never.” I bend down and kiss her neck. Her hands curl around my waist. “Touch me.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
She laughs softly. “Mm. Okay, um, can you . . .” With shaky hands, she tugs at my shorts. Her breath bursts against my hair. “Pull it out?”
I turn us, backing her up until her legs hit the bed, my mouth still savoring her skin.
She sits on the edge and peels off her shirt, keeping her eyes lowered and focused on my hands as I jerk down my shorts and boxers, kicking them off along with my runners and pulling off my socks. I grip the base of my thick length, stroking it a little, watching the lust bloom in her eyes and her pink tongue dart out to wet her lips.
I stare at her full tits, pressed high together in a black lace bra. Her nipples hard against the sheer, see-through material.
“Do you want to see them?” she asks, unhooking the clasp around her back. “I think you do.” She slides the straps down her arms and drops the lingerie onto the floor near my feet.
“Fuck.” I step forward, reaching for her hand. “Touch me.”
She wraps around my cock and tests her grip, giving slow, gentle tugs, her usual urgency for my body vanished. She looks timid.
I moan. My legs feel ready to give out. Just her hand and I’m struggling not to break.
“Mason,” she whispers, lifting her gaze as she swipes her thumb across the head. “How bad have you wanted this? Show me.” She leans forward and licks a drop of precum off my dick, watching me.
Owning me.
Jesus fucking Christ.
How bad have I wanted this? She’s about to find out.
“Baby. Come here.” I grab her legs and hoist her up the bed until she’s stretched out on her back. Topless. Her tits bouncing lusciously with the jerky movement. Her dark hair fanning against my sheets just like I’ve imagined countless times.
Beautiful.
I pull off her shoes and socks, kissing the tops of her feet. I tug off her jeans and panties. I look down at her, my girl, naked, stretched out on my bed. Giving me this.
Giving.
Me.
This.
Fuck me. Moving here was the best damn decision of my life.
With my hands spread on her inner thighs, I push her legs open and lay my body between them, my cock rubbing against the mattress. I finger her slit.
“I want you so fucking bad. This. I want to taste this before I fuck it.”
“Oh, God,” she moans as I slip a digit inside, my lips toying with her clit. I suck it into my mouth and she shudders.
“I’ve dreamed of you in this bed, just like this, moaning for me while I lick you here.” I palm her arse and move my face between her legs, roughly consuming her. Getting her in my throat the way I like.
She arches off the bed, fingers clawing at the sheet and tugging my hair, mumbling incoherent words between obscenities.
I suck on her lips, dragging my tongue between them. Up and down, slowly savoring her.
“So wet. You’re dripping down my chin, Brooke. Do you like that?”
“Shit.” She digs her heels into my back. With heavy-lidded eyes, she watches me rub my nose against her clit and fuck her with my tongue. “Mason, please.”
“I want you,” I tell her.
She swallows, nodding. “Yes.”
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Anyone.” I slip three fingers inside her, pumping them in and out.
Fast. Faster.
She writhes against the sheet and grinds on my palm, moaning and softly begging.
“Please, yes, yes. Oh, fuck. Oh, God, fuck.”
“I ache for you. My body. My soul,” I whisper against her clit, licking it gently. “I lie here every night thinking about you. Getting off to this. Your body. This sweet little cunt. Fuck, Brooke. You have no idea how badly I want this. I can’t put it into words.”
She strokes my cheek, gasping. “Show me. Make me,” her eyes roll shut. “Come. Make me come.”
“Like this?” I ask, not waiting for an answer as I move my fingers in and out of her, sucking on her smooth pebble of nerves with earnest until my cheeks hollow and she cries out above me, whimpering a mix of my name and more and fuck, over and over and over.
When her climax subsides and her limbs shiver in aftermath, she wraps her legs around my back, drawing me closer and higher up her body, her hands gripping my shoulders, my back.
I kiss her soft stomach and the curve of her ribs. I lick her nipple, pulling it into my mouth as she watches me with those pouty lips parted.
“Ready?” I ask her, pushing off the bed and digging in my night table drawer for a condom.
Brooke sits up. “Wait. Wait, I,” she stammers, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Her eyes dancing between the drawer and my face. “Um. I’ve never . . .”
“Fucked?” I smile roguishly. “Baby, I had no idea. I’ll be sweet, yeah?”
She giggles as she lowers her hand, drawing her knees up. “Shut up. No, I’ve never done it without a condom. Ever. I’ve never really wanted to.” She looks down at my cock, her gaze burning. “I want to no
w.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, sucking on her lip. “I have an IUD.”
I slam the drawer closed. Brooke startles, a laugh bursting from her throat.
I can’t deny I want her this way. That I’ve always wanted Brooke this way. There’s something about this woman that turns me into a possessive Neanderthal. I’m greedy with her. Selfish. I want my cum inside her, filling her, dripping down her leg. I want her to feel it and to tell me how it feels. And I sure as fuck want to be the only man who’s had her like this.
Only me.
Condoms? No, we won’t be needing condoms. I’ll be tossing that pack into the rubbish.
Crawling back onto the bed, I drag my cock up her leg, the tip oozing, smearing over her skin. I kiss between her tits, sucking and licking as I settle my hips against hers.
“Mason.” Brooke spreads her legs wider, lifting up, bracing her weight on her hands and looking down between us. “I want to watch you.”
I follow her gaze, understanding.
She wants to watch me enter her. Fuck, yes. She can watch me all night.
“Baby.”
I grip my cock with one hand, her hip with the other. I slide the tip in slowly, so fucking slowly, stretching her, watching the pleasure build in her eyes, her mouth falling open with a gasp and her teeth biting her lip through a moan.
An overwhelming, earth-shattering heat surges in my veins, burning up my spine. My thighs tense as I lean forward and push in.
Further.
Further.
That’s it . . .
“So good,” I tell her, releasing my cock and grabbing her neck, both of us watching as the last inch disappears inside her tight, slick pussy.
So tight. So fucking slick.
Sweet fucking Christ.
“Mason,” she groans, shifting her hips against me. “Oh, God, please.”
I tilt her head and take her mouth. She falls back. I go with her, laying my body over hers and pumping my hips.
“Fuck, Brooke.”
I kiss her hard, sliding my tongue into her mouth, her soft body melting into me and pressing closer.
“I want to make you feel so good. So fucking good.” I lean back, my forearms taking my weight as I watch her below me.
Her sweet lips parting with shallow breaths. Her cheeks deep in color. And those gorgeous eyes round and realizing exactly what this is.
