Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) (17 page)

Talk about a crime. He’d pummel Luis again all over for that alone. He’d been inside her, and he had no clue what it was like. How she sounded. What she felt like. There were hints, bits of shadows lodged in his brain that tickled whenever he was focused on something else, but he had no way to recall those moments.

Mason slowly crossed the apartment. He didn’t dare get too close. Hannah was a beast when it came to sparring and her right hook was gnarly. He stood opposite of her, a good four feet between them, and the soft light filtering through the curtains got caught in her hair, giving it a heavenly glow.

“You wanna...talk about it?” he asked. Girls liked to talk things out, right?

“No,” she snapped.

“What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re awfully touchy for nothing bothering you.”

“God—Mason—will you just leave me alone?”

“All right. Fine.” He pushed off the wall and turned. There wasn’t anywhere to go to give her space. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissy.”

“Can you just stop?” She whirled to face him.

“You’re the one that’s angry and defensive. All I asked was if we used a condom and you start biting my head off.”

“We did. Can we move on now?”

No, no he did not want to move on. He wanted to remember, to know what it was like, but he couldn’t and it was starting to piss him off.

“Are you upset because I can’t remember? Is that it?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I’m not upset. I just want to stop talking about it.”

“Was it that bad?”

“No, Mason.” She covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head.

Was she the kind of girl who couldn’t talk about sex? Or didn’t want to? Some people got weird about it. He liked it as much as the next guy, but he also had great parents who were up front about the facts. They talked to him not only about a man’s responsibility, but what his partner went through as well. His mother in particular had stressed that sex went beyond the physical act of penis-in-vagina for many women. Still, he wasn’t a chick. He couldn’t get it, but it didn’t make him an ignorant asshole either.

“I just want to move on. We can forget it ever happened.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ceiling. “That shouldn’t be hard for you.”

Her words burned. Given the opportunity, he’d never forget a thing about Hannah.

“It happened.” He stared at her mouth and the little way one corner twisted up.

“How do you know? You can’t remember it.”

He took two steps and nearly barreled over her. Her eyes opened wide and she took a half step back against the brick wall.

“I might not remember everything,” he planted his hands on the wall, caging her between his body and the brick, “but there are bits and pieces coming back to me. You can pretend it didn’t happen if you want to, but it did.”

“W-what do you remember?” If possible, her eyes got even larger until he was lost in them.

He closed his eyes and leaned in, inhaling the scent of perfume still clinging to her skin. Last night it’d been mixed with coconut and citrus. She’d tasted of it. He lifted a hand and tipped the cap off her head.

“Your hair between my fingers.” He twirled a wayward lock around a single digit. Another memory tickled the back of his mind. “The way you moaned when I kissed you here.”

Mason kissed her neck.

Not there.

He went lower.

Nope. Not quite.

There. The curve of flesh where her neck met her shoulder, just behind the tendon. He sucked lightly at the spot, flicking his tongue over it.

Hannah’s breath caught and her body trembled. He captured both her hands and stretched them out, fingers twined together. Her chest heaved, and some of the little panting noises might even be called moans or whimpers.

She was holding back. Last night she’d been loud, and now she was reining it in.

Because she didn’t want to remember? Or she didn’t want to do it again?

The answer didn’t matter. She didn’t want him.

“I remember enough,” he whispered.

Letting go of her hands, putting space between them—that took effort. There was some magic, some cosmic pull between them, and he had to resist it. Because of her father, because this wasn’t what she seemed to want, because it was the right thing to do.

Hannah stared at him, her eyes narrowed. Her lower lip had the indention of two teeth marks and was puffy, a little damp.

Let no one ever say he shied away from the hard jobs, because letting go of Hannah was the hardest.

He took one step back. They really did need space. To separate themselves before the sparks ignited the powder keg of pent-up mess. Maybe what he needed was a cold shower.

“Mason...”

“Yeah.” He really did not want to hear her rejection. Feeling it was enough. He wasn’t that much of a glutton for punishment.

Hannah pushed off the wall with one hand and hooked her other arm around his neck. She kissed him before he could think or move. Their mouths met in a fiery hot explosion of lust that took him by surprise. Feet tangled and he stumbled forward. Hannah’s back hit the wall and he barely caught his weight on a hand before he crushed her.

Her tongue was in his mouth, her hand in his hair. It was the intensity he’d felt back the day he’d helped move her into her new house times ten. His dick pressed against his zipper, eager to relive last night. Every pass of her nails over his skin sent tingles down his body.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, but neither could he stop it. Each kiss, the nip of her teeth, it eroded his reasons why right now, in this moment, they couldn’t be whatever they wanted to be.

He cupped her ass, grinding her pelvis against him, and groaned into her mouth.

So damn good.

And this was with their clothes on.

He pushed his thigh between hers, the heat of her searing him through the jeans. She wiggled her hands up under his shirt, her little nails scoring his flesh. Her hips moved, sliding against his leg.

If he stayed like this, would she come? Fully clothed? In his arms?

He pulled her hands away from them, pulling them up out to either side and holding them there. She wiggled in his grasp, arching her back and tugging against his grip.

Not until he made her moan.

Mason kissed her lips briefly, her cheek, her jaw, just below her ear before zeroing in on
that
spot. He licked and sucked, while Hannah jerked and shifted against him. She squeezed his hands and her thighs clamped around his. At long last a high, keening moan burst from her lips.

Victory, of a kind.

He lifted his head, pressing a kiss to her panting lips and eased her arms down from the brick.

She jerked her hands out of his and threw her weight forward. Caught off guard, Mason stumbled back, but her leg was hooked around his. He rolled backward in a more or less controlled fall, Hannah’s body clutched tight to his, his head in the crook of her neck. Her weight drove the air from his lungs, but he didn’t mind. Having her on top of him was the only thing that mattered.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Hannah covered his mouth with hers. She straddled his hips, their bodies rubbing together. If he didn’t get some control of the situation he was going to come in his jeans. God, he hoped that hadn’t happened last night. If it had, he prayed he never remembered it.

Mason rolled, taking Hannah with him, and put her on her back. They had the nice added bonus of being on the rug now instead of the wood floor. She arched her spine and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hannah.”

“Hm?” She pulled on his head. He resisted.

“You need to be really sure you want to kiss me.” Because his control was in tatters and he was losing sight of all the reasons they shouldn’t be together. Especially when she rolled her hips like that, stroking his cock.

She let go of him and wiggled her arms between them.

Was she pushing him away?

God, he’d have the worst blue balls.

No—no—that was not pushing him away.

Hannah pulled her shirt up and off. The camisole was thin enough he could see the lines of her bra and freckles under it. Just enough coverage to tease and drive him crazy.

Yeah, this was happening. There was no turning back now.

They were so not doing this on the floor.

He pushed up, grabbing her hands and hoisting them to their feet. Hannah attacked the hem of his shirt and ripped the clothing over his head.

Getting naked was next on his list. If he had an actual list there would be two things on it. Naked and sex.

He tossed the shirt to the floor and caught Hannah by the waistband of her shorts. Ideally he’d take it slow, but the energy was too high, the sense of urgency nipping at his heels.

She gripped his shoulders, and he could feel the muscles in her stomach flex against his knuckles. He tabbed the button through the slot with his thumb and the tiny, practically useless zipper lowered on its own.

A memory of short blonde curls lodged in his mind and damn if he didn’t want to discover the truth. He pushed her back up against the brick wall and went to a knee, jerking her panties and shorts down with him. She managed to kick off one shoe in the process.

An invisible fist punched him in the gut at the sight of her.

Perfect fucking curls.

A small voice told him he’d been here before, in much a similar position. The details were hazy, so clearly he needed to revisit the experience.

Mason pushed her leg over his shoulder, opening her to him. Hannah’s hands curled into his hair. He’d been here before. And she’d liked it. He leaned forward and licked the clitoral hood, drawing it back, and wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves. She groaned, her hips moving against him. He thrust one finger then two inside of her, pumping her, coating his fingers with her arousal.

“Oh—oh, Mason!”

She was a screamer.

That memory dislodged, shaking several others lose with it.

It was completely selfish, but he wanted to be in her when she came. Feel her around him. See the look in her eye. It wasn’t enough to remember anymore. He wanted to live it.

Mason sat back on his heels and stripped the shorts, her underwear and the other shoe off. She seemed to catch on and tossed the camisole off. He stood and she grabbed his belt buckle, making quick work of the catch. Their fingers tangled in the rush to get his jeans off—but he was wearing boots.

He’d have to sit down and pick the laces apart.

Or he could just leave them on.

Wait.

Fuck...

“Please tell me you got the condoms out of my bag.” He held his breath.

Hannah stilled. “If I say no—”

“Please don’t say no.”

“Inside zipper pocket.” She grinned.

“Stay right there.” He kissed her forehead then crossed the apartment in a blur. The bag sat on the kitchen counter, the sides sagging.

The strip of packets was right where she said it would be.

He pulled out one of the packets and turned back to Hannah.

She’d shrugged out of the bra and stood braced against the exposed brick wall. Naked. Her hair was a mess, her face, neck, and chest flushed, beautiful. This was a moment he’d remember forever. The way she looked, the lust, how badly he wanted her.

Mason made himself walk back to her, savoring the sight, his buckle jangling with every step.

Hannah reached for him first, pulled him in close and kissed his mouth. There was no uncertainty about what she wanted—what he wanted. It was as simple as biology, and more. Because it was her. Because of this thing between them he couldn’t explain.

He pushed his jeans and boxers down, freeing his dick. Somehow between kisses he managed to get the condom open and on. It was a minor miracle. He’d had ideas of making it to the bed, but even that wasn’t happening.

Mason gripped her ass and lifted, hoisting Hannah up until he had her back against the wall, her legs around his waist and her lips wrapped around him. Her pretty eyes opened wide and all he could do was grin. He guided his cock to her entrance and gravity did the rest. She slid down, inch by inch, fitting around him perfectly. She groaned, shifting and digging her nails into him. The scratches on his biceps made perfect sense now. And he didn’t mind them in the least.

He lifted her and shifted his hips, pulling out just a bit. Her legs constricted around him, deepening his thrust.

“Oh—yeah.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but her inner muscles squeezed. It was nearly impossible to breathe past the velvet grip of her vagina. “Hannah, stop that.”

“What? Why?” Her voice was pained, as if she were the one aching.

“Because I’m going to come way too fast if you keep doing that.”

“I can’t help it.” She arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his chest, a mindless, sexy as fuck action.

“Hold onto me.” He got that. He couldn’t help how his body reacted to hers either.

Mason moved his hips, sliding out of her and thrust again. Her voice hitched, hitting a higher note. He prayed the neighbors weren’t sleeping—or better yet, they were out. She tipped her head back, groaning with abandon. There was nothing hotter than knowing how turned on she was, hearing it, feeling it.

He squeezed her ass and thrust again, harder, deeper. The sinfully sweet smile said he hit the right spots. Again, he plunged into her pussy, a hot vice around his cock.

“Mason!”

Yeah, she screamed his name. No big deal or anything.

He used his body to hold her against the brick and cupped her breasts, pushing them together until he could lick the hard nipples.

Hannah jerked on his hair, her frustration telegraphed loud and clear. This wasn’t a race to come though. If it were, they’d have been over already. He toyed with one breast, tracing the areola with his finger and the other with his tongue.

She shifted, moving her hips the slightest bit, squeezing him tighter.

Fuck.

Much more of that and he’d come just from being inside of her. Which was great and all—but she had to come, too.