“It makes you
my
porn star.” Two tugs later, the apron fell away. He cupped her breasts, rolled the nipples between his fingers. Let his right hand cruise lower and nestle between her legs. “It’s crazy how much I need you after only a few hours.”
Need.
He’d said need, not want. She swallowed a mouthful of sappy words better left in her head. “Then I’m crazy too. Take me to the bedroom.”
He swung her into the cradle of his arms. “Anything you want.” The walk to his room was short, but he took it slow. Used those seconds to capture her lower lip, then turn that gentle nipping into a sensual kiss. One that continued as he wrangled them into position on top of the bed. With his sexy smoothness, he’d hitched her thigh over his hip and angled his cock between her legs. He rocked against her, bumping her clit through the thin strip of black satin with each forward motion. Hands slithered everywhere. He softly traced the side of her body, past the dip of her waist, around the curves of her ass, pulling her closer. Her grip was firmer, along the line of his shoulder, splaying across the solid expanse of his back. His tongue slid alongside hers in perfect rhythm. And her heart—it threatened to leap up her throat and bare all her impossible feelings. Pointless things she needed to keep inside.
“Anything I want, you said?” After his smile, she rolled away, waved her ass in his face. Bull, meet red flag. “This is what I want.”
“Damn, it’s my lucky day, that’s what I want too.” All of his muscles rippled as he stretched toward the bedside table for a condom. Since he caught her ogling, he paused to flex a few. Six-pack of abs first, then the biceps as hard and round as five-pin bowling balls.
“Very nice.” So was his ridiculously sexy grin. “Want to do a naked pose down for me?”
“Sure, if you oil me up first.”
“That could get messy.”
“And slippery,” he said, sliding his hand between her thighs.
The screaming orgasm from ten minutes ago meant nothing to her body. Heat curled low in her abdomen. Her thighs quivered, wanting him between them any and every way possible. “Direct me to the oil.”
“Kitchen. Cupboard to the left of the stove.”
“You want me to rub you down with vegetable oil?”
“I was thinking up, not down.” To demonstrate his point, he began stroking his cock.
Having sex with Mason was like erotic truth or dare, minus the truth part. He seemed to take great pleasure in testing her boundaries. She certainly enjoyed proving how far she’d go.
Currently, that was to the kitchen and back. “On your feet, beefcake.” He flexed and stretched while getting off the bed. “Yes, yes, you’re pretty. Save the show for after I grease you.”
“Don’t forget to grease the monkey,” he said, tap-tapping her belly with the monkey.
“I’d rather watch
you
grease it.” Again with the familiar tingling between her legs. She swallowed hard, met his eyes. Dare time. “Can I? Will you let me watch you sometime?”
“You’ve seen me stroke myself lots of times. Like now…” Each pull brought his hand against her naked body.
“You know what I mean. I want to sit at your feet and watch you finish the job.”
His eyes got darker, his smile more mischievous. “There’d be conditions.”
“Yes to all.”
He laughed, a sexy, low sound that turned her nipples diamond hard. “An automatic yes, without hearing what I want?”
“And here I thought you knew me…” She squirted a dollop of sunflower oil into her palm. A brisk rub warmed it between her hands before she flattened them on his chest. That’s where they stayed. Mason circled each wrist, preventing her from slicking him up—or down. The dirty-boy smile downgraded to something one step above a straight line. Her stomach did an uncomfortable twist, even though the hard ridge of his cock remained pressed against her belly. At least she hadn’t killed his hard-on like she’d somehow killed his playful mood.
“I want to.”
“To jerk off for me?” she asked tentatively, but he shook his head.
“To know you. All of you.”
“You already do. Intimately. Better than anybody ever has in that department.”
“I’m interested in your other departments too.”
“The rest is so…serious.”
“I’m up for serious.”
“But it’s only been a couple of weeks.” What the hell was she doing, trying to talk him out of liking her too much?
“Guess I should have checked the relationship playbook. What’s the requisite amount of time to put in before starting to fall in love with someone?”
Oh god. He said it. Well, he almost said it—close enough, anyway. And not while under the effect of orgasmic pheromones. “Around six months, though the process can be accelerated by incidents involving rogue fastballs.”
“Love at first strike.”
“That’d be a great movie title for a romantic comedy. Not very realistic, though.”
“Ouch, cynical.”
“Rational. I’ve accepted that happily ever after doesn’t exist. The average marriage is hanging at around eleven years. Forget about the ’til death do us part, unless one of the spouses murders the other.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Despite his obvious attempt to hold it back, it still showed in his eyes. “How’d we get from me telling you I’m falling in love with you, to you informing me we’ll never need a double plot at the cemetery?”
Heat spread across her cheeks. “How’d we get from me slicking you up with oil so we can have slippery, doggy-style sex, to talking about…about…
love stuff
?
”
He tossed his head back and whooped until he turned a shade of red that probably mirrored hers. If he wasn’t holding her in place, she’d stomp her bare feet out of there.
He recovered himself and looked down at her. “I’ve never been with anyone like you.”
“Old and jaded?” That comment earned her a scolding headshake.
“A woman who’d rather fuck than talk.”
“Sex has a happy ending. Talking, on the other hand…” She wrenched her hands free so she could throw them up in the air. Wave them around in front of his face. “Does
this
to people.”
“Babe, I think it just does that to you.”
Yup, he was still calm, cool, sexy and in full control of his extremities. She returned to the bed with a flop and a sigh. “I have issues.”
He propped alongside, looking down and making no attempt to hide his amusement. “Yeah, I got that.”
“Bet you’re rethinking that request to know me better.”
“Nah.” The grin turned softer, sweeter. His index finger moved randomly over her body. Or not so randomly. He was connecting the dots again, working his relaxation magic. The trail ended at the mole under her jawline. His next stop was her hair, fanning it out on the navy-blue comforter, then sifting his fingers through it. Another of her favorite things. “Better now?”
“You know I am. Every time you do that, it’s as if you’re the Andie-whisperer.”
“See, knowing stuff is good.” He leaned over, close enough to kiss her, but didn’t. “I know some other things too.”
Ooh, she liked where this was going. “Such as?”
“You hate all the shortcuts people use in texts.”
“I never told you that.” A fact that didn’t make it untrue. She refused to dumb down perfectly good words for the sake of convenience. Texts from Lasha hurt her brain, they carved the English language so badly. Not Mason’s, though. The man could spell and he wasn’t afraid to use long words in his messages. Double penetration, for example.
“You brush your teeth when you get up in the middle of the night.”
How did he know that? She used a regular toothbrush, not the powered one, and she closed the door. A weird habit, yes, but sleep-mouth felt so disgusting, and the breath that went with it…not appetizing.
He didn’t ask for confirmation, just grinned. Then closed her gaping mouth by inviting it to join with his in a steamy tangle of tongues.
“Here’s one more thing I know…” He leaned over the edge of the bed. The lid on the bottle clicked and snapped. He nudged her onto her stomach, straddling the backs of her thighs. Strong, warm palms slid effortlessly over her back. His well-oiled hands wasted no time working lower to massage the curves of her ass. One hand dipped into the valley, rubbing the sweet spot at the base of her tailbone before venturing lower to a much spicier spot. His other hand teased the crease where the meat of her ass-cheek joined the leg. Ever so slowly, he let those fingers wander into the needy zone between her legs.
The dual assault had her writhing and moaning. One second she wanted to grind down on the hand teasing her clit—the next she wanted to thrust her hips higher to better enjoy his fingers rimming her ass. Much more of this and she’d hyperventilate instead of coming.
She angled her head for a better view of the sexy man driving her crazy. Every visible inch of him was taut and focused. On her. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. Hunger burned in his gaze, but more than that. All of the feelings he’d claimed were right there, clear as the blues looking back at her. He didn’t need to say a word.
“I need you inside me. Right now.”
“On it,” he said, stretching to snag a condom from under the pillow. Seconds later he knelt behind her again. Hands on her hips, he thrust inside, then stilled. “Shit, this is gonna be fast.”
“In that case, get out.” She wiggled forward, almost fully dislodging him.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Poor guy, he actually groaned when he pulled out. But she planned to make it up to him. “Mason…”
“Yeah?”
Face half-pressed to the blanket, she smiled up at him. Reached around and caressed her oil-slicked skin. First, with her palms, then by dragging her nails across the round mounds of flesh. “Do you like this?”
His eyes tracked her movements while his hand milked his cock. “You’ve got a great ass.”
“Do you like it when I do this?” She slid one hand down the valley and massaged the ring with her middle finger.
“Fuck. You know I do.” More cursing followed when she snuck the tip inside. He barely stifled a moan when she added another finger all the way to the first knuckle.
“Mason…”
“Yeah?” Poor guy could barely choke out the word.
“Get the oil and my toy box.” The bed shook from his hasty retreat and return. “I’ll take the little purple one…yes, that one…for the front.” She smiled at him as he handed her the pint-sized device. “As for the back…it’s all yours.”
The tortured desperation vanished from Mason’s face, replaced by a wicked glint in his eyes and a lust-filled smile. He squirted oil into his left palm and dragged his right fingertips through it.
“My turn,” he said, drizzling the oil over her body. He smoothed it with practiced expertise, using circles to tease her until she writhed in anticipation. The head of his cock pressed against her at last, rocking, stretching her. Breaching her bit by bit with slow, determined strokes.
She clicked on the vibrator and touched it to her clit. Instant relaxation. Instant need to come.
“Babe,” he groaned as he gained deeper access. “You’re so tight. So…fuck…hot. I need to be…” A couple adjustments and her legs were between his, straight and nearly flat to the bed. The angle perfected, he pushed farther, until his hips pressed up against the meaty part of her ass. All the way inside. “Jesus, Andie…”
Her breath caught as he moved inside her.
He stopped, brushed wisps of hair from her ear to tickle it with his deep, leathery voice. “You okay? Is this too much?”
“God, no…keep going…deeper, it feels sooo good when you’re deep.” The strokes got longer, easier. Faster. The spiral of need between her legs built each time he thrust, with each flicker of vibration across her clit. Guttural, raw moaning filled the room—mostly hers, some his—each time he stroked into her with his full length. None of her toys came close to the sensation of Mason’s cock filling her ass. “Oh god, that’s so good…”
“You’re gonna make me come with those sounds.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth. Nibbled it while breathing hot and hard on her neck.
Every cell in her body wanted to come with him. “Do it…” She tipped over instantly, bombarded by the urgent, tingling need radiating inside and out, front and back.
He hollered her name and a string of beautiful curses, then collapsed on her back, huffing as if he’d run ten miles, uphill.
Together they made one sweaty, greasy heap of satisfaction.
“You were right,” she said between breaths. “Knowing stuff about each other is good.”
“That it is, babe.” He laughed, then kissed her thoroughly before rolling away to take care of business.
She didn’t try to hide the giddy smile. Yes, he knew how to turn her on, how to make her frantic with need, and how to satisfy her in ways she’d never thought possible. Maybe…he’d be able to make her believe in love again too.
Chapter Thirteen
“So much for our lunch.”
Mason looked from the demolished casserole to the cat, then to Andie. The guilty feline sat on a kitchen chair, serenely cleaning his face. Andie stood, hands on her hips, glaring at the furry glutton.
“Looks like Hugo enjoyed it.” The glare turned on him. Shit, wrong thing to say. “I bet there’s enough left for a couple of small servings if we,” he poked at it with a fork, “scrape away the parts with the gnaw marks.”
“Not helping.”
With that combination of fire in her eyes and sex-mussed everything else, she was adorable. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and bent his head to her ear. “I’d give up any meal for what we just did.” Less than ten minutes ago he’d had her every which way and come like a fucking volcano, and already his cock perked up at the mere mention. “I’d live on bread and water if it meant fucking you that way every day.”
“Okay, that’s helping,” she said, sounding a little breathless.
“I wanted to take you out this afternoon anyway, so we’ll start with lunch on the way. Go get ready.” He released her with a light smack on her silky robe-covered ass. “Put on the red dress I packed for you.” She stiffened, stared up at him, unmoving as the seconds ticked by. “Babe, you okay?”