by Ali Parker
“You should call her back. Set up a time for the two of you to talk alone without me or your brothers there to cause any problems,” she said.
I inhaled through my nose, drinking the whiskey before looking at her. “Is that you not saying anything?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I hate seeing you and your mom not speaking to one another. I just can’t get my head around the idea,” she insisted.
I shook my head. “I’ve got nothing to say to her until she apologizes to you first. She treated you like shit, like you were a bum off the street. That wasn’t okay. I am not going to give in to her little guilt trips.”
She sighed. “One of you has to make the first step. I think she has. Don’t turn it down.”
“No.”
“Mason, she’s trying. It might not be the step you think she should have taken, but it is a step in the right direction. You have to hear her out. Maybe she doesn’t know another way. Talking to her is the only way you will ever get this resolved,” she said, clearly irritated.
I poured myself another small amount of Jack, washing it down with one drink. “Baby, I really appreciate your concern, but to be blunt—I don’t want to.”
“You sound like a child.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe I do. She started it.”
She slapped her hand to my forehead. “Really?”
I chuckled, pushing the glass of wine toward her. “I only want to think about you right now.”
“You say that every time. I’m not your excuse. Don’t make me feel guiltier for my part in all of this than I already do,” she stated.
I raised my eyebrows. “Why do you feel guilty?”
She made a sound that expressed her exasperation. “You know why! Because you’re mad at your mom for what she said to me. I don’t want to be in the middle of your family feud. If you have beef with your family, that’s one thing, but I don’t want to be smack dab in the center of it all,” she said, putting a hand on her hip.
“You aren’t at the center.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you were there, and she treated you like shit. She knows better. Had it been me acting like that to Natasha or Hannah or another woman at the family dinner table, shit would have hit the fan. She can’t preach one thing and do another.”
“She’s your mom; I don’t think the rules apply.”
I sighed, knowing I was not going to win. “Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. I want you to tell me you will make an effort to talk to her. I don’t know all the baggage between the two of you but hear her out. If she doesn’t say what you want to hear, fine, it’s your choice. Don’t let this be about me. I cannot live with that.”
“Adelaide,” I growled.
She held up a hand. “I’m not done.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not finished. You’re a wealthy man from a wealthy family and your name opens doors wide open. We’ve seen that first-hand this week. Your mother and father have probably been taken advantage of on more than one occasion during their lives. I’m sure you had plenty of fake friends who only wanted to get close to you because of who you are and what you could offer. Your mom was looking out for you. I don’t blame her for the interrogation. I would have preferred it be in a private setting and I would have liked to have gotten to know her before we got into my business, but I get it. I’m not mad. Don’t be mad for me,” she lectured.
I stared into her eyes. “Now, are you done?”
She slowly nodded her head before taking a sip of her wine. “I think so. I might think of something later, so I reserve the right for additional points.”
I smirked. “Noted.”
“Thank you.”
“Why are you so damn smart?” I asked her.
She giggled, taking another drink of her wine. “I was born this way.”
I lunged for her, grabbing her around the waist and planting a kiss on her mouth. I could taste the wine on her lips and suspected she could taste the whiskey on mine. I wanted her, but I would wait until we had eaten.
“Now, we are going to focus on dinner,” I said firmly. “It’s just me and you. The rest of the world doesn’t exist right now. Me, you and the delicious grilled chicken we’re about to feast upon.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a great cook. I can get by, so let’s not make any statements we can’t back up.”
I laughed. “Good plan. I think we’re both hungry enough that it doesn’t really matter if it tastes good. It just needs to be edible.”
“Very true.”
We finished unpacking the groceries we had purchased based on the recipe we’d found on an app I’d downloaded while standing in the meat department at the grocery store. I realized I was wholly unequipped to make dinner for another person, let alone myself.
“Lemon juice?” she asked, reading the recipe.
I looked up from where I was on the other side of the center island, chopping carrots for our salad. “The lemons are in the fridge.”
“I’m supposed to squeeze them?” she asked with surprise.
“Or I could.”
“I can do it,” she muttered, opening the fridge and making herself right at home.
I liked seeing her in my kitchen. I liked seeing her move around like she belonged. She did belong. She was absolutely beautiful, even in what she called her scrubby clothes, no makeup, her hair pulled away from her face and the look of exhaustion after a long day of hard work. It was sexy.
“I’ll grab a couple of plates,” I said after we both determined the chicken was officially done.
Together, we quickly set the table. The meal smelled pretty damn good. I hoped it tasted half as good. We sat down, both of us staring at the chicken before looking at each other.
“You first,” she said with a laugh.
“Where’s your phone?” I asked her.
She looked confused. “In my purse.”
“You might need it to call for help. I just want to make sure you know where it’s at. I do not want death by shitty chicken on my headstone.”
She burst into laughter, tears running out of the corners of her eyes. She picked up her glass of wine and took a long drink before staring back at the chicken on her plate. “Maybe we should get drunk first.”
“You think that will save us?”
“When you’re drunk, everything tastes good,” she reasoned.
I nodded. “Good point. I’ve had a few glasses already. You’re on your third glass of wine. I think we’ve got enough alcohol in our systems to dull our senses a bit.”
She winced, using her fork to cut off a chunk of the chicken breast. “Together? We can die together. It won’t be as romantic as holding hands and dying after seventy years of marriage, but it’s better than dying alone, right?”
“I don’t know about that, but I’m in. On the count of three,” I said, holding my bite an inch from my mouth.
“Go!” she shouted before popping the first bite into her mouth.
We both chewed, watching each other’s reactions. I was pleasantly surprised to discover it didn’t suck that bad. It wasn’t bad at all really. I nodded my head as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.
“It’s good. You did a great job,” I complimented.
“Thank you. This is a huge feat. I’m thrilled!” she said, taking another bite.
“Me too. We should do this more often,” I suggested.
“I agree. I’m going to start watching some cooking shows. I can do this. I can cook something other than a frozen pizza,” she said proudly.
I loved watching the excitement play on her face. I loved that we had done something together that was new for both of us. Sharing something as simple as making a chicken dinner was thrilling with her by my side. I wanted to have more firsts together, as a team, as a couple. I felt a little ridiculous, but I wanted to have a future with her, travel the world with her and spend the rest of my days with her. It hit hard. I was
turning into a sap and I wasn’t even all that afraid of it. I didn’t give a shit about anything other than being with her and making her happy.
Chapter 55
Adelaide
I had noticed the change in him as we ate. He had gone from playful and funny to very serious. I could see something was on his mind. I wasn’t sure if he was willing to talk about it or if I wanted to know. Dinner hadn’t been as great as it would have been were it prepared by someone who actually had some cooking skills, but it had been okay.
“Are you finished?” I asked him, noticing he hadn’t taken a bite in a while.
He looked up at me, as if he had been lost in his own little world. “I am, yes.”
I smiled and rose from the chair, grabbing his plate and then my own before carrying it into the kitchen. I deposited them in the sink and moved back to grab the remaining dishes. Mason already had them and was carrying them toward me.
“Everything okay?” I asked him.
“Yes, absolutely.”
I nodded, not fully believing him. Together we cleaned up the kitchen, neither of us saying much at all. I poured another glass of wine for myself. He mixed himself a Jack and Coke. We settled in on the couch, the TV off as we both stared out the window, taking in the night skyline.
“This was nice,” I murmured, feeling incredibly relaxed.
“It was,” he agreed, his arm tightening around my shoulders as he pulled me against him.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, not wanting us to go to bed with whatever it was hanging between us.
“I’m great, absolutely great,” he said in a way that I believed.
“You seemed a little distracted earlier.”
He took a drink from his glass. “I was only thinking about how great it is being here with you. I like this. I like hanging out with you and making questionable chicken.”
I laughed softly. “I see.”
“Baby, can we go to bed?” he whispered.
I twisted my head around to look up and into his face. He was staring down at me, that heated look in his eyes that was all business. I leaned forward and put my glass on the coffee table, taking his out of his hands as well.
“We can do anything you want,” I replied, leaning forward to brush my lips over his.
“Anything?” he asked with a devilish look in his eyes.
I smiled, feeling daring when I was with him. “We’ll see.”
He leaned forward, scooping me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him cradle me close to him as he walked to his bedroom. He gently put me down on the bed before moving back to turn the lights down low. I watched him walk toward me, stripping off his shirt before jerking down the jeans he’d been wearing. I loved staring at his body and the tats I had memorized. I could trace them with my eyes closed.
I had been so mesmerized by his body, I forgot to take off my own clothes. I quickly shucked the shorts and tank, dropping them on the floor while he watched. The way he was staring at me was making me itchy with anticipation. I loved being with him, loved how he could make me feel so whole.
“I want to taste you,” he growled, reaching for my panties and yanking them down.
I lifted my hips, making it possible for him to pull them down my legs. He reached around me, unhooking my bra and pulling it away, leaving me completely nude under his steady gaze. I had long ago lost my tendency to try and hide myself when he looked at me with such intensity. I wasn’t afraid of the look. I welcomed it. Feeling daring, I scooted across the bed and let my legs fall open, effectively giving myself to him.
“Damn, woman, you know how to tempt me.” His husky voice washed over me as he dropped to the bed.
His mouth slammed over mine, his tongue pushing inside as his hand slid over my body, moving between my legs. I gasped, his mouth swallowing my sound of pleasure. It took nothing for my body to respond to him. I could already feel how wet I was, how ready I was to fall apart in his arms.
His lips moved away from mine, running over my chin, making slow kisses between my breasts and then circling my navel. My hands moved to his hair, the long strands sliding between my fingers as his head moved between my legs. The man was excellent at everything he did, and his tongue was magical. The first lap of his tongue over my folds was nearly my undoing. He used his hands to forcefully push my legs open wider, giving him full access to my center.
I cried out when he used his fingers to spread my nether lips open, clearing the way for his expert tongue to lap over the most sensitive part of my body.
“More,” I moaned, my head rolling back and forth across the bed as he administered to my body.
He growled, the sound vibrating through my body, sending shivers of pure desire racing down my spine and stretching out to my fingertips and the tips of my toes. His mouth worked over me, plucking me like an expert guitar player, knowing exactly when and where to strum to bring me the highest amount of pleasure.
My hands stretched out, fisting the blanket as I was carried higher and higher on a magical cloud of pure desire. I closed my eyes, jumping off the cloud and tumbling down in the throes of an orgasm. I was adrift on a sea of bliss, brought back to reality with the touch of Mason’s lips against my own. I opened my eyes, staring into his hazel ones and smiling.
“You’re going to kill me one of these times,” I rasped, my body still vibrating with the remnants of the orgasm.
“You’ll die a happy woman,” he said with a grin.
I smiled before using my hand to push against his chest. He dropped to his back as I went up on one elbow, staring down the long length of his hard body. Tracing my fingertip over the tattoos, I watched the muscles ripple across his chest. I smiled at his body’s response to my touch as I climbed over the top of him, his hands automatically moving to my hips.
I rested my palms against his chest, moving outwards and then down as I slid down his body. I grabbed the waistband of the briefs he was wearing and pulled down. He was clearly as anxious as I was to be free of the cumbersome underwear and quickly shimmied out of them while I straddled him. I reached for his shaft, wrapping my hand around him and gently squeezing. He sucked in air through his teeth.
I dropped my mouth over the head, holding him tight in my grip as I took him in.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his hands grabbing my arms, holding on for dear life as I bobbed up and down on his hard shaft.
His fingers were digging into my upper arms, his need apparent with the way he was gripping me as if he were afraid I would escape. It drove me on, making me take him deeper into the back of my throat, swallowing every last inch of him.
I moaned, my own excitement ramping up as I sucked on him. I could taste his excitement. I loved making him come undone, stripping away that steely self-control and hearing him shout when he exploded with pure ecstasy.
I didn’t get the chance to hear and feel him release himself. He sat up, using his toned abs and reached for me, pulling me up his body. With one easy, well-practiced move, I slid down onto his shaft, burying him deep inside me. We both held our breaths, letting our bodies connect on a much deeper level than the basic physical connection. It was so much more. When we were both silent, we let ourselves feel each other’s heartbeat where we were joined together.
“I’ll never grow tired of having you around me.” He rasped out the words.
“I’ll never grow tired of having you inside me, hard and pulsing, touching every nerve and making everything feel so much more intense.”
His eyes closed as I began to move, dragging my body up and down his, the friction hot enough to start a blaze. I could feel my body winding up, ready to shatter into a million pieces. I spread my palm out over his chest, feeling his heart pounding underneath. I used it as a guide to set my rhythm. Rocking over him, chasing after the beat of his heart. Both of us panting, gasping and trying to reach the finish line.
“Don’t. Fucking. Stop,” he grunted.
I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted t
o. My body had been possessed by pure, unadulterated lust. I was moving fast, losing myself in the moment and blocking out everything else around me. It was only him under me and deep inside me. His hands on my hips, his fingertips digging into my flesh as he held onto me.
I heard myself moaning, the sound increasing as the orgasm built. I could feel it coming. My body clamped down around his, squeezing him tight inside me and pulling a shout of ecstasy from his lips. I cried out, feeling him explode inside me. The force pushed me over the edge. His hips bucked upward, nearly sending me toppling over. I would have if not for his sturdy hold on my body.
I joined him in ecstasy, both of us crying out, murmuring words that made no sense. I dropped forward, my breasts pressing against his bare chest, the hard muscles under me rippling as his body spasmed. I turned my mouth to press against his chest, nibbling on the skin and causing another violent reaction under me. The jerking of his body triggered something inside me, prolonging my orgasm.
His arms went around me, hugging me close to his body as we both calmed our rapidly beating hearts. I sighed, feeling completely content to stay against him just like that for the rest of my days.
“So good,” I mumbled, my cheek resting against his chest.
“Me or the chicken?” he teased.
I chuckled, too sated to move. “I want to sleep just like this.”
“Works for me,” he murmured, clearly feeling just as exhausted as I did.
We both lay quietly a little longer. I could feel myself drifting off to sleep and forced myself off him. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, clearly already on the way to blissful sleep.
“We need to get under the blanket. Come on,” I said, tugging on his arm.
He groaned, finally allowing me to pull his large body up. It didn’t take long before we were snuggled up together underneath the blanket. His arm was around me as I lay on my side, my face resting against his chest. I didn’t need a pillow when I was in bed with him. I was always on his chest or snuggled into the curve of his arm. He kept the AC on low to keep us comfortable. We’d woken up sweating one night a few weeks back. When I offered to sleep on my side of the bed, he rejected it. So now, it was a cool sixty degrees in the bedroom at all times. It was out of necessity that I curled against his warm body, which suited us both just fine.
