Buried Flames (27 page)

“Your touch feels good,” Mason murmured, still watching Brenna intently. At some point, his curiosity of her reaction had somehow mingled with arousal.

“It’s meant to,” Brenna whispered while never hesitating in her strokes as she slid them over his right shoulder.

This side of Mason was as flawless as a stream of clear water. Brenna glided her fingers down his arm, the back and front of his hands, as well as all five rough digits. It was hard to ignore the hardening of his cock, but she managed…just barely. There was still plenty left to do before she paid attention to that delicate area of his body.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Brenna agreed softly, shifting him underneath the water so that the suds were washed away. She cupped the bar of soap and lathered it in between her palms. “But I want to know every inch of you before we step out of this shower.”

Brenna deliberately brought her right hand up to his left shoulder where the marred flesh began close to Mason’s neck. The raised marks were like a treasure map and she purposefully followed each and every ridge as they led her down his arm. It was easy to see where he must have worn gloves or been able to protect his hand since the elevated scars ended around an inch from his wrist. She then started her way back up.

“You don’t—”

“Stop talking.” Brenna leisurely pushed against his left side, allowing the warm water to trickle down and wash away the soap she’d glided over him. When the suds were fully rinsed away, she lathered more soap before she took pleasure in touching his chest. “I’m exploring and very much enjoying myself.”

Brenna’s breasts tingled with arousal as she slid her fingers over Mason’s muscular chest. The lines were well defined and screamed of a man who worked hard on his land. This wasn’t a body one could get at a gym. The edge of her fingers caught the start of the scars on his left pectoral muscle, but that didn’t stop her from caressing the damaged area.

“You were protected here,” Brenna said, tenderly running her hand down his unblemished rib cage. The marred flesh began lower, several inches above his waistline.

“I was wearing a vest when the grenade went off.”

Mason had to clear his throat a couple of times before the words came out and Brenna slowly smiled. She was going lower, and therefore he was reacting to her touch. A surge of arousing power flowed through her, creating an ache within her that only he would be able to satisfy completely.

The ridges she was touching now included numerous scars that had to have been from the shrapnel Mason had described to her. These scars were smooth and elongated. Brenna leaned in and pressed her lips against one of them, wishing she could take away the pain they caused beneath the surface.

“The water’s going to get cold at this rate,” Mason said, the rich tone of his voice deeper than usual. She skimmed a light touch across his rock hard abs. “We should—”

Brenna slowly lowered herself to her knees and peered up at him through her wet lashes. Mason ran a hand over his face when he realized she wasn’t about to get out of this shower without completing her task first. She couldn’t help but smile as she lathered the soap in her hands once more to explore the rest of his body.

“You’ve made your point, little one.” Mason reached down and smoothed the wet strands of hair from Brenna’s face. “Let me finish up here and then we’ll continue this in bed.”

Brenna didn’t respond with words, but she answered him with her hands while doing her best to ignore his hardened member in front of her. She wasn’t close to being done exploring the marks he’d acquired defending their country. It was easy to see which scars caused him problems deeper within his muscles and now she knew where she’d need to massage on those days that were harder on him than others. She took her time and memorized each and every one, followed by the touch of her lips.

“I’m counting down to three before I carry you to that bed,” Mason stated in a rather hoarse tone, his hands now resting on the other side of the small enclosure. Brenna tried her best to peer up at him with innocence, but she didn’t succeed according to his darkening gaze. “Three, two—”

Brenna took his cock into her mouth, cutting off the last number of his countdown. She savored his flavor that had mingled with the water. She’d already rinsed the suds from her hands and allowed the water to run over both of them. She placed her palms on the front of his thighs while she drew back, finally taking in the sight of him. He was long, wide, and everything she’d expected him to be.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Brenna whispered, running her tongue along the side of his cock. He was as smooth as the water running down his legs.

Brenna formed her lips around his tip and worked her way down until he was at the back of her throat. One of Mason’s hands was now reaching for her braid, which was barely contained in the weaves she’d made earlier. He wrapped it around his fingers and the sharp tightening caused a shiver of desire to run through her. An ache formed in her lower half, wiping away the slight pain her knees had been experiencing.

That small spark of power Brenna had felt earlier had gone by the wayside when she realized Mason was the one controlling her movements. She continued to lick and suck him, but he was setting the rhythm by guiding her. She glided her tongue over the underside of his shaft and reached underneath to cradle his balls. A guttural groan tore from his chest when she started to massage him and suddenly her fun was cut short by the rest of his countdown. Brenna couldn’t help but pull away and smile up at him.

“One.”

I
t had taken
every ounce of strength for Mason to stand still underneath the water while Brenna scrutinized every square inch of his skin, but not for the reason he would have thought. What he had imagined as highly uncomfortable and very challenging to endure had turned out to be quite sensual and somehow affectionate. He was well aware of how he appeared physically and yet she’d made him feel more formidable than any other man with only the simple touch of her hand.

Mason had turned the knob on the water, the temperature having never lost its intense heat. In fact, Mason knew from personal experience that the boiler servicing the billeting quarters on each floor was nearly five thousand gallons in capacity. He preferred the bed to the shower though. The brief pause didn’t hamper their building passion in the slightest. Brenna’s braid was still wrapped around his palm, so he gently drew her into a standing position and started to walk forward, causing her to take mini-steps back until they reached the bed.

“Towels.” Brenna practically breathed the word, her lips rosier than usual from the fact they’d been wrapped around his cock. He would have sworn it was impossible to become any harder, but looking at how beautiful she was had proved him wrong. “We should…”

Brenna’s head dipped back when Mason leaned down and slowly licked away the water droplets beaded on her.

“We don’t need towels,” Mason murmured, gradually lowering Brenna to the mattress. He pulled up and away, walking backwards while taking in the mind-blowing magnificence lying in front of him. She was ever so slowly changing his life and for some inexplicable reason…he was letting her. “What we need is a condom and I happen to have a couple dozen fresh from the supply room.”

Brenna rose up on her elbows with a seductive smile on her face, her blue eyes shimmering with the identical awareness Mason could sense in the air. She wasn’t looking at his left side. She didn’t even appear to care about his skin’s appearance, for she only displayed a penetrating interest in him. She was a damned aphrodisiac and didn’t even know it.

Mason had taken out a condom Mav had given him earlier without saying a word. His friends knew him better than he knew himself. He’d only meant for this sleeping arrangement to be temporary, but now he wasn’t so sure he wanted that future, as it would mean he would be without her. In fact, he didn’t, but he wasn’t quite sure how to put that into words. He could show her though.

“I’m not even going to ask how you came about acquiring all those condoms,” Brenna asked, watching intently as he brought the foil up and ripped one side open with his teeth. “I’m appreciative, though.”

Mason retrieved the round latex disk and glided the smooth rubber around his tip and down his shaft. He swore it felt as if Brenna’s heated gaze had done all the work. He closed the distance between them and lowered himself over her, taking the time wipe the damp strands from her rosy cheeks. She wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing for his cock to nestle in between her folds. The heat from the water brought out a dusting of freckles across her nose that he found fascinating.

“How is it that you can maintain such an innocent appearance and yet practically bring me to my knees?” Mason murmured, leaning down and caressing his lips over her ear. Brenna’s small fingers wrapped around the back of his biceps.

“I
have
brought you to your knees, Mason Anderson Sykes.” Brenna slid a hand from his arm down in between them as she guided his tip to her wet entrance. Her miniscule spasms surrounded his shaft as he sank deeper into her.
This
was home.
She
was home. Those two thoughts made him immobile for a moment as he savored her warmth. It was time to unbury that past and claim the flames that had never been extinguished. “Just as you have done to me.”

“I won’t argue with that, little one.”

Mason slowly withdrew only to gradually push forward. He rested his forehead against hers and watched in captivation as the blue hues swirled in her eyes at each thrust. He purposefully evened out his breathing to delay the inevitable as this exact moment required to be memorized—the lines of her face, the small sounds escaping her lips, the warmth of her body, the faint fragrance of the soap she’d used on him, and the taste of her damp skin on his tongue. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he couldn’t even begin to explain why.

Brenna reached up and cupped Mason’s face, seeming to understand the significance of this intimate act where no words were needed. He pulled her knee up higher as he started to increase the rhythm while stretching her even farther. He could literally feel the way she contracted around his shaft, which fueled him even more to drive into her repeatedly until the bedframe was knocking against the wall.

They both catapulted over that endless precipice until Mason pushed hard against her, holding himself still as the surges of their release came over both of them in waves. Once he had a hold of himself, he began to slow down the tempo. He lightly bit her shoulder as they each composed themselves, running more soft kisses over her chest.

“Don’t move,” Mason growled, wishing he had pulled out more than one condom when he started this whole thing. He wondered where he’d left his pack with the remaining supply. Now that his friend was with Henley, there was no doubt they had stocked up on supplies also. After all, he was coming to understand that there wasn’t anything better than to love his woman after a day of witnessing the devastation of their surroundings. There. He’d said it. Brenna was his woman. “I forgot my pack, so let me clean up and I’ll be right back.”

Mason cleaned himself off after removing the used condom. He then quickly put on a pair of clean white briefs, jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt before heading out the door with a purpose. Brenna was watching him with curiosity, but she’d settled herself under the warm covers with a very satisfied, although somewhat tired smile. He’d also left the slice of chocolate cake Mabel had wrapped up for Brenna sitting on the table with a fork he’d appropriated from the kitchen. That was where he’d left his satchel. It had been leaning up against the counter in the kitchen at the lodge. There weren’t a lot of bright spots these days, but he would make them count when he could so he moved out with a purpose. It didn’t take him long to sport his mask and make his way to the lodge. He gave Mabel a smile as he found his bag right where he’d left it in the kitchen.

“She’s good for you.”

Mason smirked at the sound of Tank’s voice, craggy from years of smoking. He’d given up the bad habit years ago, hoping to impress Mabel. He would definitely have time to do things for her now. As for his reference to Brenna, well, Mason’s grin slowly faded at the reality that Tank was referring to his demeanor.

“She’s too good for me,” Mason corrected, taking two small bottles of bug juice and putting them inside his satchel. He tossed the flap back over the top. He stared at the old worn green rucksack and realized how out of the norm this gesture was for him. “She deserves someone who doesn’t have the baggage that comes with me.”

“I’d say Brenna knows exactly what she’s getting with you. She certainly knows how to handle your ill-mannered attitude as well as your dark sense of humor.”

Mason finally turned around to find Tank watching him intently, as if he wasn’t the same man who’d left here a couple of months ago. Maybe he wasn’t. A lot had changed. He leaned his back against the stainless steel counter behind him, hearing Mabel working in the kitchen over his shoulder, her shoes squeaking on the tiled floor.