Joe’s fetid breath hit Laurie in the face and took her
breath away. Her panic level rose and she considered throwing her hot coffee in
his face. For an instant, she wondered if it would make him back off or cause
the violence to escalate further. Before she had time to finish the thought,
Joe’s head slammed into the wall beside her. He released her shirt and she
stumbled back, hitting the door behind her with a thud. She blinked and saw the
panic in his eyes for a split second before he flew backward and landed on his
back in the living room floor. She looked at him splayed out and then turned
her gaze toward the cause of Joe’s fall.
A large man stood before her. He was probably six-four with
broad, muscular shoulders and perfectly ripped pecs and abs, lean and solid. He
wore nice-fitting jeans and carried a t-shirt absently in one hand.
A tattoo, depicting human muscle and bone intertwined with
mechanical gears and components, covered the entire right side of his torso,
his right arm and halfway up the side of his neck. The ink was beautiful.
He looked to be in his late twenties and he had shaggy dark
hair that looked a little damp, most likely from a recent shower. His face was
hard but handsome with high cheekbones and full lips. His eyes were the most
beautiful shade of green, deep and rich but wild with anger. With a slight
frown, he looked her up and down, as if observing a curious new species. When
he met her eyes, a jolt surged through her whole body and a tingling sensation
began low in her belly.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
He raised an eyebrow for a moment and then spun around to
look at where Joe lay on the floor, wiping blood from his nose.
“What the fuck are you doing putting your hands on
anyone
in my goddamn house?” he demanded.
Joe scrambled to his feet then backed into the couch and
fell into a sitting position as the large man advanced on him.
“Mace…she…she wouldn’t let me check her out,” Joe stammered.
Mace stepped closer to Joe, anger rolling off the big man.
“It’s not your job to check anyone out. I told you to answer
the fucking door and that’s it. You don’t get to fuck with
anyone
around
here and you damn sure do not put your hands on a woman in my house. What were
you going to do? Beat her?”
“No, I just wanted to scare her,” Joe cried and then looked
down at his lap. “I’m sorry, Mace. I shoulda waited and let you handle it.”
“Goddamn right, you shoulda let me handle it.”
Mace turned back toward Laurie and she pressed herself
against the door again. He gazed at her for a moment then draped his shirt over
his shoulder and approached her, moving like a predator. Her heart thudded
harder and harder with each step he took and she struggled to control her
breathing. He stepped close, towering over her, and studied her.
“Man, I’m sorry. She’s my girlfriend; I shouldn’t have
brought her.” Trey stood up from the couch. “I’ll make her show you. She’s not
trying to cause a problem. She’s just not real smart. Laurie, just lift your
shirt and let the man see. I’m sure you don’t have anything he’s never seen
before.”
Carol and Lisa piped in with declarations that there was
indeed nothing spectacular under Laurie’s shirt.
Laurie’s panic level rose again. Everyone was talking at
once and those green eyes were boring holes into her. She bit her lip to keep
from screaming. Mace turned his head slightly and bellowed.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Trey sat back down and everyone fell silent. The only sounds
in the room were coming from the radio playing another song by an eighties hair
band and the bubbling of Dewayne’s bong.
Mace leaned closer to her, placing his hand on the wall
beside her head, and his eyes fell on her mouth. He pinched her bottom lip
between his thumb and forefinger, pulled it from between her teeth and ran his
thumb across it slowly and soothingly. Laurie’s eyes widened and she let out a
shaky breath as she watched Mace place his thumb in his mouth, tasting the
moisture that had transferred from her lip. He closed his eyes as if savoring
the flavor and released a short, quiet groan. When he opened his eyes and
looked into hers again, his irises had turned a brighter shade of green. Laurie
suppressed a horrified gasp when moist heat flooded her center and the tingling
she felt before turned into a dull ache. He leaned his face an inch or two from
hers and scented her before he spoke.
“What’s the problem, Angel?” His voice was a soft rumble and
carried a hint of an Acadian accent.
The sound washed over her and left her whole body aquiver.
She cleared her throat, hoping her voice didn’t fail her.
“I don’t want to show my breasts to everyone,” she
explained, staring at his chest rather than looking into his eyes again.
He studied her for a moment then hooked his finger under her
chin and raised her face so he could look into her eyes. The anger she saw
earlier had dissolved and he looked at her almost tenderly. That didn’t help
the situation. Laurie’s mouth went dry and her heart raced. He cracked a small
smile and the ache between her legs intensified.
“I understand that,” he began, keeping his voice soft and
gentle. “Only whores are so ready to show it all off to a roomful of people.”
He cocked his head toward Lisa and Carol, who were sharing
the bong and flirting with Joe and Dewayne. Even Trey seemed more interested in
the conversation than what Mr. Fix-It was doing to her.
“But you also have to understand that what I do ain’t
exactly legal so I have to make sure you’re not wearing a wire or anything that’s
going to get me busted.”
Laurie sighed and nodded.
“I’m not out to embarrass anyone so how about if you just
let me take a quick peek. I won’t let anyone else see. Can we do that?”
Laurie nodded, all too aware that if the man had asked her
for her panties she would already be handing them to him. Still holding her
captive with his eyes, he ran a finger across her collarbone and down her chest
toward the V of her top.
“So your name is Laurie, right?”
She nodded and took a shaky breath.
“I’m Mason.”
“Mason.”
She repeated his name and he froze for a moment before he
cracked another small, devastating smile.
“My customers call me Mr. Fix-It, friends call me Mace but you
can call me Mason, ‘cause I like the way you say it.” Hooking his index finger
into her shirt, he pulled it toward him. He leaned his head closer and his damp
hair brushed her cheek as he peered down her top.
The scent of him filled her senses—strong…wild…male. She
squeezed her thighs together and bit the inside of her cheek to keep the moan
lodged in her throat from escaping. She watched his gaze move across her chest,
and her nipples beaded as if he’d caressed them. He sucked in a sharp breath
and she knew her red bra did nothing to hide her reaction from him. Mason bit
his lip. Laurie swallowed hard. He let go of her shirt and raised his head to
look at her again.
This time, the heat Laurie saw wasn’t anger but it was just
as dangerous. The green of his eyes was so bright, they nearly glowed as he
moved closer and cupped her cheek with a calloused hand. His thumb brushed her
bottom lip and her lips involuntarily parted for him. Laurie was incapable of
resistance—even though she got the sense he was moving in for the kill.
A small voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to say
no, to put up a fight; however, her body had other plans that seemed to include
his hands and mouth, if the images flashing through her mind were any
indication.
She leaned toward him…just a fraction. He noticed. His eyes
flared white-hot, and he brought his other hand to her neck. Curling his
fingers around to the back, he used gentle pressure to urge her closer. As he
leaned toward her, he ran his thumb down her throat and licked his lips.
Dewayne coughed in the living room and Laurie remembered she
was in a roomful of people. Panic hit her in the chest but didn’t quite
override the spell Mason had cast over her. Awareness that her boyfriend was
four feet away washed over her but she still couldn’t make herself protest.
Mason came so close that they were breathing each other’s
air. Excitement and fear comingled in her belly as she anticipated the taste of
his lips, but he froze at the last second. A look of confusion crossed his face
and then he looked down toward his bare feet. She followed his gaze and spotted
her jacket under one of his feet. She vaguely remembered dropping it when Joe
grabbed her. He released her and crouched down to pick it up. Laurie took in a
deep, calming breath and trembled. She struggled to control her reeling senses
and was unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he’d let her go.
Mason let go of Laurie and slowly crouched down to pick up
the soft, pale-pink jacket. He kept his eyes on her, checking her out all the
way down. For one insane moment, he considered pushing up her skirt, pinning
her hips to the wall and helping himself to a taste of her. His face was only a
few inches from her body and the temptation was almost overpowering.
He saw the tremor work its way through her body and decided
he’d better back off. He knew his aggressive behavior must have scared the hell
out of her and he wouldn’t be surprised if she started blowing her rape whistle
if he made another move in her direction. He picked up her jacket and
straightened, smiling when he spotted her coffee.
“Malta’s coffeehouse?” he noted.
Laurie looked at the cup as if she had forgotten about it. “Yeah,
I’m kind of addicted.”
“What’s your poison?”
“Kopi Luwak.”
“No shit? Me too. I thought I was the only freak in town who
liked it.” Mason chuckled.
Laurie laughed a little, appearing calmer as he moved out of
her personal space.
“Drinking coffee that’s been eaten and shat by some freaky,
little jungle animal ain’t for the faint of heart. You must be a real bad-ass,
Angel.”
“If you have an extra cup, I’ll share it with you,” she
offered.
Surprised by her kindness, he smiled broader and motioned
toward the kitchen. Laurie stepped around him and headed for the cabinets. He
watched her go before he hung her jacket on a hook on the wall.
Mason slipped into his shirt and then sat on a beat-up barstool.
He spun around, putting his back to the assholes in the living room, so he
could watch Laurie searching for a cup. She was a small woman, no more than five-five
based on the way he towered over her. He preferred his lovers to be taller and
more buxom. Not only did he like curves on a woman but also, because of his
substantial size, he worried he would hurt a petite woman.
He looked Laurie up and down, enjoying the view as she moved
from cabinet to cabinet, and decided he might have to make an exception for
her. She tried to hide her assets with modest, too-large clothing, but he could
tell she had one hell of a body and plenty of curves. He’d already seen her
full, perky breasts for himself and he wouldn’t mind seeing the rest of her,
naked, sweaty and sprawled in the middle of his bed.
She was dressed in a knee-length tan skirt and a blue top,
which shouldn’t have looked the least bit seductive but did. She had thick,
shoulder-length dark hair that had with a slight wave to it. Her eyes were
light brown and she had perfect, pouty lips, which he was dying to taste. Her
scent reminded him of warm spice and made him dizzy with desire.
He liked seeing the little woman in his kitchen. She fit
there and he could imagine her cooking for him while he watched. Frowning for a
moment, he wondered where those thoughts had come from. The idea of a woman
cooking for him never turned him on before but his dick got impossibly harder
as he imagined it. Deciding not to analyze it too closely, he continued to
enjoy the fantasy as he watched her. She would wear an apron and nothing else;
her hair would be messy and she’d still carry his scent on her body…maybe a few
hickeys on her well-rounded ass cheeks.
When he’d heard Dewayne knock on the wall, signaling that
there was trouble, he had stepped out of his bedroom, ready for a confrontation
with some unruly college punk. Instead, he’d seen Joe with his hands on the
pretty little thing. Her brown eyes were so big and full of fear yet somehow
still defiant, and rage had filled Mason in an instant.
The second he’d seen her, he’d wanted her and that made her
off-limits to anyone else…and damn sure exempt from being harassed by the likes
of Joe. By the time Mason had knocked the shit out of the pudgy bastard and
stood in front of her, his cock was so hard he thought he might be able to
hammer a nail with it.
He’d had a difficult time fighting the urge to take her down
on the floor right in front of everyone. He decided it was some primal side of
him—he’d fought a predator for her, proved himself alpha and then he’d wanted
to mark his territory by fucking her on the spot. That would show everyone, including
her, that she belonged to him.
He liked the way she’d looked at him when he’d first stood
in front of her. She’d studied him from head to toe, curious and appreciative.
Right away, he’d noticed an angelic and innocent quality about her and when he
looked down her shirt and saw that sexy red bra he’d almost lost his mind.
Nothing about her appearance had prepared him for that, and the contrast was
overwhelmingly erotic.
She made a happy little sound when she located a cup in the
cabinet over the sink and then spun around to bring it to him. As she
approached him, he pushed the other stool toward her. The gaze he leveled on
her carried the unspoken command—
you will sit here.
Her steps slowed for
a fraction of a second before she placed her coffee and the empty cup on the
bar.