Kissing Trouble (31 page)

Scooping up the heap of fabric, he disappeared through the door next to the dresser.

Julie watched the door shut and turned to face the bed. She took a deep breath and crawled onto one side and sat with her legs tucked under her and her back against the pillows. She was still sitting there when Mason emerged, clad in flannel bottoms and a black t-shirt. He dropped his old clothes onto the chair and crossed to the dresser. After tossing the remote onto the mattress, he picked up the tray and joined her.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

Julie shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

Snatching up the remote, he flicked the TV on, then surprised her by passing the remote to her.

“I’m not picky either,” he said when she stared at him.

She settled on an episode of
CSI: Vegas
. It was one she’d already seen, but she left it running as they ate in silence.

“This is delicious!” she said after only a few bites.

Mason grinned. “I am a man of many talents.”

“And you can cook,” she added with a smile. “I am thoroughly impressed.”

“Oh, you would be amazed at some of my ... abilities.”

Poking a piece of lettuce between her lips, Julie glanced at him. “Yeah? Like what?”

The dark humor in his eyes when they met hers made her blush. “I play a mean game of
Scrabble
.”

That was not what she had seen in his eyes, but she let it go and focused once more on her food; he was a master of teasing and she was already confused enough that he hadn’t made good on his promise.

When they finished eating, Mason returned the tray to the dresser and, after snapping the lights off, climbed back into bed. The flicker of the TV washed over the dark fabric of the sheets, just barely illuminating them.

He wasted no time reclining with his arms folded beneath his head. It took Julie longer to follow suit. They were on their third TV show before she gave into the fatigue and stretched out, tucking the pillow beneath her head and turning onto her side to watch. The pillow smelled like his shampoo, something earthy with a hint of citrus. It was nice. Soothing.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

Julie’s eyes popped open and her cheeks burned at being caught sniffing his pillow.

“No!” she blurted. “I was watching.”

His teeth gleamed in the semi darkness when he flashed her a smile. “Are you tired?”

She shook her head. “Are you?” She tried to make out his face. “Would you like me to go?”

He chuckled. “No. I don’t want you to go. In fact, I want you to get closer.”

Following his own advice, Mason wiggled closer. He closed that single bit of space and left his pillow to take over hers. Julie tried to shuffle back, only to have her middle captured. She was pulled into him.

“It’ll be easier if you turn around,” he told her.

Heart palpitating wildly in her chest, Julie rolled onto her other side, presenting him with her back, which he instantly melded his chest into. Her hips were drawn into his. His thighs pressed into hers. She could feel his heart beating against her shoulder blades.

“Better?” he murmured, tickling her ear with his warm breath.

They were spooning. His hand expanded clear across her entire abdomen. She hadn’t realized how long his hands were until that moment.

“Yes,” she croaked.

The low chatter on the TV claimed the silence that followed. Julie was grateful for it. She wasn’t sure what she could possibly say except,
do you have a flashlight in your pocket?
Yet she wasn’t ignorant enough to believe it was a flashlight. It was too hot, and it was cradled perfectly against her backside. It took all her resolve plus some not to grind back against it.

Outwardly, Mason made no indication that he was fully erect. There was no change in his breathing, or in the patter of his heart. He seemed content, which baffled her. Didn’t men always want that problem looked after immediately? Now she wasn’t an expert on men, having only been with the one—two counting Mason—but she liked to think she knew what she liked and was pretty good at asking for it. Yet she had the specimen of all men in bed, curved into her warm body with a full hard-on and she was at a loss on what to do. It definitely didn’t help that she wanted to roll her hips back a notch just to see what he would do. If he would finally give her what he’d been promising her for days.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” he drawled softly.

Feeling like she’d been caught doing something especially naughty, Julie flushed. She was so glad he couldn’t see her face.

“No, I’m fine,” she lied, and it showed in the breathy squeak of her voice. “I was just...” She adjusted her position to stuff more pillow under her head.

Behind her, Mason hissed. It was low. She would have missed it had it not been directly against her ear. The fingers across her stomach flexed and a thrill shot through her. It was hot and liquid coursing through her veins to flood the place between her legs. Her limbs trembled as she froze in realization and delight.

Carefully, she did it again, lifting and wiggling her body back against his in the pretense of trying to get comfortable. The erection nestled between her cheeks twitched. The man connected to it growled. His hand fisted her tank top.

“Stop,” he half hissed, half growled into the curve of her jaw.

Nipples tight with longing, Julie wet her lips. “Stop what?”

His fingers tightened on her top. “You know what.”

He gave a very blunt thrust of his hips, leaving no doubt in her mind that he knew what she was doing. Mouth dry, Julie arched back, meeting him. His guttural curse spurred her confidence. She reached around back and took him in her hand through the worn fabric of his pants. He was scalding to the touch and thick, and when she glided her fingers down along the shaft, she marveled at his length.

“Shit!” he snarled into the back of her shoulder. “Julie!”

Delighted by her power, she gave him a little jerk. His gasp elated her. She thrived on the knowledge that his shudder was because of her. The TV went forgotten as she drew out every second of torture. She was so lost in her own triumph that she wasn’t prepared when he returned the favor, for when he forced his hand beneath the hem of her shorts and cupped her mound. Her shocked gasp was met with a sinister chuckle.

“My turn.”

Without a shred of warning, he jerked away from her, and in that same violent motion, he grabbed and twisted her onto her back. She was liberated of her shorts and panties in the blink of an eye and her legs were wrenched apart to accommodate the wide length of his shoulders.

“Mason...!”

His name tore out of her in a squeak that was instantly followed by the clamp of her fingers through his thick locks as his tongue delved past her outer lips to terrorize the muscle in between. His fingers cut bruises into her thighs, keeping them from stopping him as he worked a steady rhythm from slit to clit in a clean figure eight. She was thrashing and clawing at him as he stoked the fire burning white hot inside her with his mouth, teeth and tongue.

When he switched his mouth for his hand, she wasn’t sure she liked it. There was something profoundly delicious about being licked into oblivion. But Mason proved to be equally good at building her with only his hands. He used his free hand to wipe his mouth before climbing over her.

“Nothing more than this has to happen tonight,” he told her. “I’ll stop.”

S
he wanted to laugh. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, releasing a hiss through her teeth when he inserted a finger and pushed it to the knuckle inside her.

Mason was breathing hard when he dislodged himself from her and climbed off the bed. Julie watched as he stripped off his clothes and reached for the nightstand. Items were shoved around inside the drawer before he found what he was looking for. The light from the TV danced over a silver packet. Her cheeks warmed as she realized what it was when he ripped it open with his teeth. She shivered when he returned. Her arms lifted to welcome him over her and he accommodated her. But rather than put all his weight on her, he braced himself on his forearm just next to her head and straddled one of her legs.

He brushed the knuckle of his free hand over a rigid nipple, slamming her in the stomach with a want so bad, she didn’t bother stifling the gasp that escaped her. Heat trickled between her legs, moistening her bare lips, and drawing the cool caress of air, making her shiver.

Mason clenched his jaw as he repeated the gesture, this time going so far as rolling the bud beneath his thumb. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his touch for more. His eyes watched her without blinking as he drew down the straps of her top. Her breasts, small in her opinion, bounced free, unrestrained and painfully aroused. The cool air licked at her, goose pimpling her skin.

Then he kissed her ... hard. It was like kissing embers. Her very soul seemed to blister with the heat. She was drowning in sunlight, floating on hot, summer winds. The solid ground beneath her feet vanished and she was falling, falling, falling heedlessly into space and time, lost in the scent of musk, spices and soap.

“No!” she gasped, grabbing him, holding on tight when he began to pull away.

“Shit!” She heard him growl seconds before his lips slammed back down over hers, this time with an angry vengeance, like he wanted to hurt her, hurt them both, like he just couldn’t get enough.

His fingers gouged into her side, bruising flesh as he crushed her violently into his chest. His teeth cut into her lips, nipping, sucking, and making them swell. Then, his tongue was invading, plundering, and conquering hers into submission, and she was gasping and moaning and clutching him to keep him from stopping, because if he stopped ... the thought, the heart-stopping, the mind numbing ... the torturous thought was just too much, too much and she’d die. She just knew it.

He started to stop doing that amazing thing he was doing with his mouth, to pull away, to open his lips to say something, but no. She couldn’t have that happen. She couldn’t let him break the dreamy hue encasing her, not yet; she kissed him, pressing her lips back to his and devouring him with all the insanity blazing white-hot inside her, all the passion he’d unleashed so heedlessly, without thought, and if she was going to crumble into ashes, she was going to take him with her.

Mason ripped free of her before she could stop him and lit a fiery trail down the length of her neck to her collarbone. His tongue dripped into the hollow of her throat, drinking the heady moan that vibrated through her very soul.

Julie tangled her fingers through his hair, fisting and holding him prisoner while he melted the skin off her bones with his mouth alone. His clever fingers were no help righting the world around her, flicking and plucking and fondling her nipples. Little bolts of electricity surged through her veins, all bursting like fireworks in her pit of her stomach. The jolts sent another sort of sensation, a sort of life that seethed deep in the V of her legs. The pang was so intense, so demanding that when he worked his hand up her thigh to cup her mound, she was opening her legs as far as they would go.

Above her, grinding his rock hard cock into her hip, Mason groaned as he parted her dewy folds and found the thick puddle of arousal waiting for him. He was breathing hard, harder maybe than even her and she felt like her lungs were going to explode and her heart was going to stop from exhaustion. His minty breath washed across her face, over her lips in puffs as he tried and failed to control the tremor in his hand as he worked the cream over her lips, her clit and prodded gently at her slit. His eyes, big, shiny, and black with hunger, bore into hers, watching, appraising every look on her face carefully.

His head bent forward again and her lips were captured by his. He pulled away a second later and went for her breasts.

“Mason!” she keened, back bowing off the mattress.

He groaned into her chest, his voice muffled by the suction he had around her nipple. He drew back an inch, just high enough to circle the bud with his tongue. The indents he’d made in her flesh with his teeth glistened in the moonlight with saliva. Then, he lowered his head to her other breast and took the peak into his mouth, sucking it in deep and clamping his teeth around it, hard. She knew she would have marks in the morning, but she didn’t care.

The pain, laced with the sharp stab of pleasure that quickly followed with every swift little flick of his tongue sent her head was reeling, and then, then he released the bite, letting blood rush back into the nipple, sending it tingling and throbbing in such sweet agony that she sobbed, positive she was tearing hairs from his scalp. Her body shuddered. Her hips bucked, rubbing and grinding in time with his as he rode her leg, thrusting his cock against her thigh.

“Still with me, love?”

Julie could only make a strange, choked sound in response. But it seemed to be all he needed as his fingers began to do more than draw lazy circles high up on the inside of her thigh, just an inch away from her pussy. He pinched her clit, tugging on the helpless little nub, then rolling it like a bean between his thumb and index finger. Wave after wave of electricity zapped up her pliant body like lightning through a conductor. She hissed her pleasure, head dropping back in ecstasy.

He growled into her throat, the sound strained as if he were the one in pain.

“Don’t stop!” she hissed through her teeth, knees spreading further apart, as far as they would go.

His chuckle was hoarse. “Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

She didn’t ask what he meant by that. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and thrashed her hips against his hand. He took this as the encouragement it was and pushed a finger inside her, fast, without pausing to give her a chance to think, to protest ... to breath. Her eyes snapped open wide, mouth open in a silent cry as her lungs struggled to remember how to exhale or inhale.

He pushed in and out of her body in steady thrusts that had her toes curling against the sheets. Above her, he worked a second finger into her channel, stretching it.