Veiled Desire (7 page)

Read Veiled Desire Online

Authors: Alisha Rai

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary, #Adult

Veiled Desire
Chapter Twelve

Perhaps she should be shrinking from the daylight after the excesses of the night before, but she just couldn’t work up the energy. Leyla took a sip of the coffee in her hands and looked out at her backyard and the late-morning sun. Mason’s house was dark and empty.

Because Mason was sprawled naked in her bed.

She let out a little sigh of contentment and sat back against her couch. Nice thought.

“Was that wistful sigh for me?”

She glanced up to find him standing just inside the living room, studying her with a possessive gleam in his eyes. Though she’d donned a robe, she blushed, feeling as though he could see right through it.

He’d pulled on his underwear, and she was grateful, though the red cotton molding to his thighs and package didn’t exactly cover him up. His hair was all disheveled.

Because you’ve been pulling at it all night long.

She sighed again. Very nice thoughts. “Did you find the toothbrush?”

His dimples flashed. “Yup. Now that I’m minty fresh, come here.”

Honestly, she could care less if he smelled of morning breath. Leaving her coffee cup on the table, she walked over to him and stepped inside the circle of his arms. His lips settled over hers and she’d never felt anything quite so right.

The night before had shown her Mason’s raunchy side, but she didn’t mind. Apparently, she had a rather earthy side as well. She’d always known she enjoyed sex, but she’d never had quite the chance to explore it like she had yesterday.

Her body was sore, but even now, with just his kiss, her nipples tightened, her sex readied. She leaned toward him and deepened the kiss.

He nibbled on her lips and then drew away. “Do you have to go to work at all?”

“Nope. I get today off. It’s always so slow the day after the holiday, Junie can handle it.”

“Mmmm. Good. What’s for breakfast?”

She gave him a winning smile. “I don’t know. What are you making?”

Mason gave her a playful swat on her behind. “You mean, after all the work I did last night, I have to cook breakfast too?”

“Yeah,” she said dryly as they started to walk to the kitchen. “I’m sure your hips are very tired. Luckily, you don’t use those to cook.”

He pushed her up against the wall outside her kitchen. “I can cook with my hips.”

“That’s cheesy, even for you.”

With a quick tug, he had the tie on her robe open. “I’ll show you cheesy.”

They were laughing, she was squirming against him, when they both heard the rattle of keys outside.

Leyla could see the knowledge and acceptance in Mason’s eyes when he realized who it was. All she really had time to do was jerk her robe together before the front door opened.

“Leyla, are you still sleeping? I’ve been calling—” Sasha stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed them.

Leyla felt a bit detached, like she was watching a frozen tableau. Sasha’s face and body were utterly still, his eyes the only thing moving. His gaze went from Mason’s undressed body to her hands holding her robe together, their closeness and intimacy obvious even to a blind man.

Her brother closed the door behind him with studied casualness. His handsome face was wiped clean of all expression. Leyla wasn’t fooled, and his tight words confirmed the undercurrent of rage firing his blood. “You son of a bitch.”

“Sash, calm down. This isn’t what it looks like.”

He barely spared her a glance. All of his attention was on his childhood friend. “How long has this been going on?”

“Not long. Man, let’s sit down and talk.” Mason was admirably calm, when she felt more than a little tense. Oh, this wasn’t how she wanted to tell her brother about them.

A glitter appeared in Sasha’s black eyes, so like her own. “You’re fucking my sister, and you want to talk?”

“Watch your mouth,” Mason said sharply. If the situation wasn’t so dire, she would have laughed at Mason rebuking her brother for his language when he’d spent the night whispering much worse into her ear.

“Outside. Now.”

“Sasha, please,” she said, impatient now. “Let’s not make this into a cliché.”

“She’s right. I’m not going to fight you over this.” Nonetheless, Mason gently pushed her to the side and seemed to brace himself.

Sasha shrugged. “Then you can just stand there and take it.” He lunged over the couple of feet separating them and slammed his fist into Mason’s face.

Leyla gave a choked little cry. Mason didn’t defend the second punch either, but he ducked the third time. “Listen to me. This isn’t what it seems.” Grabbing both of Sasha’s arms, he tried to still him. “I don’t want to hit you.”

They were both about the same height, probably evenly matched in strength. Though she knew from experience Mason could hold his own against her brother, she felt a split second of fear. Sasha trained hard to be ready for a fight on any given day, while Mason was a healer at heart. Leyla tried to intervene, rushing forward and tugging on Sasha’s shoulder. “Please, why don’t we just—”

At that moment, Sasha attempted to jerk free, and his elbow lashed up, square into her mouth. She uttered a low curse and clamped a hand over her lips, taking a step backward.

There was complete silence from both men, and then each of them had his hand on one of her arms.

“Leyla, baby, let me look at it…”

“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Mason won the tug of war and guided her to the kitchen table. After she sat down, he pulled her hand away and examined her teeth and bloody lower lip as if she’d been mortally injured. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just bit myself. Are you okay?” His eye was going to be black and blue tomorrow, and a thin trickle of blood had emerged from his nose, but Leyla was relieved that nothing looked broken. She would have killed Sasha for messing up Mason’s pretty face.

“I’m fine.”

“Get away from her.”

Mason cast her brother a scathing glance. “I’m making sure you didn’t do any permanent damage.”

She looked up in time to catch Sasha’s chagrin. “It was an accident.”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have such a quick temper.”

“I walk into my sister’s house to find a man I trusted with his hands all over her, and I’m supposed to take that with a smile?”

“You’re acting like I seduced—”

“Enough!”

They swiveled to look at her, and she shook her head. “Mason, go home for a little bit. I need to talk to my brother.”

Sasha tossed him a smug look. “There you go. Go home.”

Mason studied her for a solid minute, clearly torn. She tried to smile, but she was so irritated, she wasn’t sure if she could manage it. Instead, she squeezed his hand where it rested against her face. “Really. Don’t worry about anything. Trust me.”

He slowly stood and nodded. “Put some ice on your lip.”

It took her a minute to realize why he was walking toward her back door, and then she remembered his clothes, strewn around the living room. She hid a smile, thankful Sasha hadn’t seen those. He didn’t need any further reminders of her and Mason’s cavorting.

Sasha went to the freezer and removed some ice, loading it into a plastic bag. When he returned to her, they both heard the sliding glass door closing behind Mason.

Sasha crouched down in front of her, gently placed the bag on her lip and studied her with troubled eyes. A rush of tenderness overwhelmed her for her baby brother. He was so tall and handsome, so much like their father in looks.

“This is all my fault,” he said softly. “I should never have let you live here alone.”

The tenderness flashed back into irritation. The dunderhead. “Let me?”

“Yes.” He stood and started to pace back and forth. “I knew something was up when Mason moved here. If I’d known he was going to seduce you, I would have broken both his legs then. Stupid me, I was actually happy you’d have someone I trusted to look out for you.”

“Seduce me?”

“It’s not your fault, Leyla. You probably didn’t even realize what was going on.” He cast her a pitying look. “He probably took one look at you and realized what a sweet, easy conquest you would be.”

She placed the bag of melting ice on the table. “Easy.”

“Don’t worry, Lee-Lee. You don’t ever have to see him again.”

“Sasha,” she said, her voice faint. “Can you come here? I feel a little ill.”

In a flash, he was crouched in front of her again. “I’ve got you. Do you need to—God, Leyla!”

She twisted his ear, happy to see that she hadn’t lost her touch, and then leaned in close. “Sasha Karimi, how dare you. Do I have your attention now? Good. Now listen. Mason did not seduce me. Or if he did, I was a completely willing partner.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s what you think.”

She twisted harder, gratified at his yelp of outrage. “No, that’s what I know. In any case, what I do with my sex life is my business, not yours.”

She released his ear and watched as he sat down and rubbed the side of his head. His jaw was obstinate. “I don’t like the thought of you having a sex life.”

Leyla couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you think all women should be virgins for life, or just me?”

He looked down at the ground. “Just you.”

“Well, that’s not very fair.”

“Mason betrayed me.”

Out of patience, she snapped. “The hell he did. He fought what he felt for me, just like I fought what I felt for him. Because of you, because we didn’t want to just hook up and hurt you. But this isn’t just a hookup, Sasha. Mason truly loves me. You should be thrilled, because you know better than anyone what a fine man he is.”

He looked up at her, his eyes sharp. “Do you love him?”

“Nuh-uh. I haven’t talked to him about that yet, so I’m certainly not going to spill all to you first. Go talk to him, please. Listen to what he has to say. Or I’ll…I’ll never forgive you.”

He paled a little at that threat, and Leyla felt a pinch of regret for making it. He needed a push though, or her hard-headed brother could easily refuse to speak to Mason until the day he died.

“Fine.” He stood.

“Don’t hit him again, or else.”

“Or else what?” he sneered over his shoulder as he walked to the living room.

“Or else I’ll give you an Indian rope burn you’ll never forget.”

Veiled Desire
Chapter Thirteen

Mason lay on his couch, ignoring the pain of his rapidly blackening eye, trying not to think of what might be going on in the house behind him.

Sasha had a way with words. Was he even now convincing Leyla to forget him, that she couldn’t possibly have any feelings for him? Was he guilting her into denying what she felt?

When Mason heard the rap on his back door, he jerked up, hoping it was Leyla. Instead, he found Sasha’s scowling face on the other side of the glass.

He scowled back. Hell, if it weren’t for his friend’s horrible timing, he could be feeding Leyla melon balls right now.

Note to self: Do not think of any kind of balls around your lover’s murderous brother.

“Open the door.” Sasha’s words were unmistakable, though muffled by the glass.

Mason stood and walked to the door. “If you hit me again, I’ll hit you back.” He really didn’t want to do that either. Not that Sasha didn’t deserve a good ass whipping, but Leyla wouldn’t be thrilled they were fighting.

Love was complicated.

Sasha gave a short nod, and Mason opened the door, eyeing him warily. As Sasha stepped inside, Mason looked across the yard to find Leyla standing just inside her door. She smiled, all encouragement and sunshine, and gave him a thumbs-up. He hesitated and waved before he closed the door and turned back to his unhappy guest.

“Leyla said if I didn’t come here and talk to you, she’d never forgive me.” Sasha didn’t bother to hide the resentment or bitterness over that little gem.

Thanks, sweetheart. At least you tried.

“She twisted my ear.”

Mason winced and resisted the urge to rub his own ear in sympathy. He’d gotten his share of those growing up. “Do you want something to drink?”

Sasha clenched and unclenched his hands. “No.”

“She’s watching us. If I were you, I’d take the chance to get out of her view.”

Sasha glanced over his shoulder. He pasted a fake smile on his face. “Fine. Whatever. Bastard.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stomped into the kitchen. Mason sighed and followed. His friend stood with his hands braced against the counter, his face hard and uncompromising. They stared at each other in silence, neither quite sure what to say. Hell, they were men. His and Sasha’s relationship didn’t revolve around talking about their feelings.

Sasha shook his head. “I tell you how vulnerable she is, so you go and seduce her?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah? How long have you been sleeping with her?”

“Just last night.” One night, many times. But no need to torture the man.

“I trusted you.”

“Fuck, Sash. It’s not like I got her pregnant and abandoned her. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Overreacting? When you took advantage of my sister? You know she’s inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced doesn’t equal stupid. You’re doing her a pretty big disservice.”

“Friends don’t sleep with their friend’s sister. You know that. You knew I’d be pissed.”

His irritation faded a bit. “Hell yes, I knew that. I hoped you’d calm down when I explained how much I love her. I didn’t do this to scratch an itch or just have a quick one-night stand because she was convenient. I’ve been agonizing over it for months. And yes, part of that was because she was your sister, and I knew it was wrong to want my best friend’s sister.”

Sasha heaved a breath. “She said you loved her. I asked her if she loved you.”

A quick pinch near his heart. “What did she say?”

“She said she wouldn’t discuss it with me without talking to you first.”

Fair enough. “I love her. I want to be with her.” Marry her, give her my children. Once again, though, he wouldn’t speak to Sasha about that before talking it over with Leyla first. “You know me better than anyone. I’m not promiscuous, I’m not violent, and I don’t drink to excess. Could you honestly say you’d rather have someone else be with her?”

“No one’s good enough for her.”

“Agreed. She’s freaking amazing. But is that realistic? You don’t want her to marry, have kids? You don’t want her to be happy?”

“Of course I do…”

“Then, hell, man, what’s wrong with me? We grew up together. I understand her. I love her. What could you possibly object to?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Sasha shook his head, kicked out one of the barstools and sat down. “Marriage? Kids? My God. You’re moving too fast for me.”

Mason’s lips twitched. “Sorry.”

“You’re sorry. I’m sorry I decided to come over at all this morning.” Sasha sighed. “If you’re using crazy talk like marriage and kids, we clearly do need to talk.”

 

“Those are my terms. Do you accept them?”

“This is stupid, Sasha.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re twelve.”

“We agreed we would do it this way.”

Mason glared at his best friend. If he wasn’t such a good guy, he’d tell Sasha to stuff his lifelong friendship.

They’d spent the entire afternoon hashing things out, and what they’d determined was written on the notebook in front of Mason. He picked it up and reread the terms. “One, Leyla and I will not discuss any sexual matters in front of you nor will we engage in any overt physical displays of affection. Two, we must determine as quickly as possible if we are compatible within a relationship. Three, if we determine we are compatible, we must get married immediately, because you sure as hell are not going to stand for me shacking up with her indefinitely. Four, if I ever hurt her or make her cry, you will give me a gun, and I must shoot myself. Five, if I fail to shoot myself, I give you permission to do it on my behalf.” He slapped the pad down on the table. “Are you sure you’re a cop and not a lawyer?”

“Yup.” Sasha’s tone was remarkably cheerful for someone who’d wanted to commit murder a few short hours ago. “I think those are some pretty fair terms.”

“Do I need to give you a donkey to seal the deal?”

“Nah, we’ll just shake on it like we used to.” Sasha brought his hand up to his mouth and spit into his palm before extending it.

Mason eyed his friend’s hand with distaste. “You know this is how I caught mono from you when we were in seventh grade, don’t you?”

“Do you want my permission to see my sister or not?”

Mason sighed, and then quickly spit into his hand and shook with Sasha. Then, because he’d been through enough torture, he pasted an innocent expression on his face. “Leyla’s going to be so thrilled that I have your permission to date her.”

Sasha frowned and touched his ear. “Give me that pad.” He spoke as he wrote. “Six, I, Mason, will never discuss this conversation with Leyla. If I do, I will make it very clear to her that I was obtaining a blessing.” Sasha eyed him. “Blessing. Not permission. Got that?”

He laughed. “Yes. Got it.”

“Okay then.”

He and Sasha studied each other, and then Sasha stood. “I, uh, should get going. I won’t say I’m sorry I hit you, because you kind of deserved it. On principle, if nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

“And…if Leyla absolutely has to see someone—”

“She does,” he said dryly.

“Then I guess it might as well be you.”

As far as ringing endorsements went, this one wasn’t amazing, but Mason would take it. He stood and slapped his friend on the back. “Sash, that’s sweet. We’re not naming our firstborn after you, though.”

“No talk about kids for a little bit. Please? Let me just pretend she’s pure for a little longer.”

He thought of her sweet mouth kissing down his body, and he had to clear his throat. “Yeah, as the driven snow. Now go away. This isn’t how I wanted to spend my day.”

He walked Sasha to his front door, where he paused. “I should stop and talk to Leyla—”

“Go away.”

Sasha grinned and practically rubbed his hands together. “Oh, man. This is gonna be kind of fun for me, isn’t it? I can’t believe I overlooked all these new opportunities to drive you crazy.”

“Enjoy, with my blessing. Now, goodbye.”

Mason slammed the door behind him, and then waited, pacing his foyer, one eye on the clock.

Five minutes? Was that enough time for Sasha to have left? Probably. He darted through his home, out the back door, and through their shared backyard. Her living room, or what he could see of it, was dark, so he went around to the front door.

He hadn’t brought his spare key, so he knocked.

Nothing.

He pounded on the door again, his blood boiling, eager to have her again.

Nothing. Where the hell was she?

“She’s not home.”

He turned around to find Nosy Nancy standing in front of Leyla’s home, her little toy poodle at her side. “Hi Nos—er, Ms. Nancy. She’s not?”

The older woman sniffed, eyeing him as if he were a particularly ugly bug under her shoe. “Little girl ran out almost an hour ago. She said she was going to the grocery store. Nobody asked me, but she looked mighty upset about something.”

Worry consumed him. Upset? Had she been worried about his and Sasha’s discussion? Had she given up? “Did she say something?”

“No. It was just a look she had on her face.” The curmudgeon gave him a pointed look. “Maybe she isn’t keen on a man walking in and out of her house uninvited.”

He gritted his teeth and nodded, forcing himself to be polite. “Thanks, Ms. Nancy. I’ll catch her later.” He tried to keep his shoulders straight as he walked back to his place, despite the fact that he felt as if someone had just taken his dessert away from him.

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