Chapter Five
Mason
As I followed Ash, his hand, warm and comforting in mine, sent a fascinating tingle along my nerve endings where my fingers curled around his. I’d never held another man’s hand. Even before my assault, it wasn’t something I’d ever done or ever needed to. After all, if I wanted to hold someone’s hand, I held my girlfriend’s. Yet this felt right. Better for some reason. Ash’s hand was larger, hotter, and his strong fingers fit perfectly with mine. Looking down, I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.
All I did know was how relaxed and comfortable Ash made me feel, which had nothing at all to do with the amount of alcohol I’d consumed today. With his hand in mine, anchoring me, I felt safe and protected, something I needed more than anything after spending so much time on my own with nothing to do but think how different my circumstances were now.
He led me over to the sofa and sat, pulling me gently along with him, our thighs so close they brushed, the heat from his body warming mine. Relaxing against the cushions, mindful of my ribs after cracking them against the railing outside, I deliberately ignored the twinge of pain the action caused, choosing to focus instead on how irrationally pleased he made me when he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he held on a bit tighter, seemingly not yet ready to release me.
I liked the feeling.
Angling his body toward mine, Ash studied me for a few moments, his eyes roving over my face and body, mapping the remaining bruises lingering on my skin.
“Will you tell me what happened to you?” he asked quietly. “Help me understand.”
His request came out almost a plea, the honesty resonating in his words. He really did want to understand the pain and suffering I endured. And I wanted to tell him. I wanted to confide in the only person I’d allowed to see a small slice of the man I used to be, instead of the shell I’d become, so I steeled myself and told him everything. About my birthday. About the attack. About me becoming a recluse, hiding away from my friends and family, letting no one in. My gaze remained locked on him the whole time, studying his reactions, as I revealed the details of the last few months of my life. Horror and fear marred his expression, along with understanding when I described the attack and its subsequent effect on me. True to his word, I didn’t see one iota of pity.
Once finished, I rested my head against the sofa, eyes closed, energy drained from reliving the memories I tried so hard to forget. A couple of seconds later, Ash’s palm brushed tentatively against my face, his thumb caressing my temple where the last of my bruises remained. His fingers slid into my hair to lightly trace over the scar where the bullet had grazed my skull.
He abruptly stopped his exploration when I opened my eyes, and he started to pull his hand away. I didn’t think about the reasons why I didn't want him to remove it, only able to process how much I liked the feel of him on me. So I swiftly raised my fingers to gently catch his wrist, halting his movement, holding him in place. “You can touch,” I said, my voice low.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked, caressing me again, eliciting goose bumps wherever his fingers connected.
“It’s a bit sensitive, but no, it doesn’t hurt.” My husky reply caused him to exhale sharply, his lips parting slightly. I wasn’t dumb and recognized when someone was attracted to me. His pupils dilated and his cheeks colored as he continued running his fingers over my skin, no longer tentative, rather more assured, more confident.
I’d missed being touched. Wrapped in the warmth of someone, having them near, surrounding me with their body heat. I closed my eyes, leaning into him, needing to get closer. And when his blunt nails scraped along my scalp, the sensation so, so good, I couldn’t have held back the low moan escaping my lips if my life depended on it.
Ash’s hand disappeared in an instant, coolness replacing his touch, making me shiver. Snapping my eyes open, I followed his rapid rise off the sofa, his hands balling into fists as he stood, his spine rigid.
“I should go,” he stated shakily.
“What? Why?”
“It’s late. I should go, and you need to rest,” he stuttered, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.
I hastily stood, then gripped him around the upper arm. Not restrictive, but enough to keep him from moving. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Please don’t go.” I placed my other hand on the side of his neck. His eyelids fluttered briefly shut and a light tremor ran through his body under my palm.
“I’m sorry if I unsettled you. It’s just— I’ve— It’s—” I sighed, trying to explain. “I haven’t let anyone hold me since the attack. Not friends or family. I haven’t wanted to.” I waited until his eyes opened and stormy green focused on my own. “You’re the first I’ve allowed.”
He stared at me for the longest time before whispering, “Why?”
I thought about his question, trying to work the answer out in my head, why Ash’s touch and only his didn’t make my skin crawl. I’d attributed my repulsion to being touched to the associated feeling of terror when my assailants dragged me into the filthy dark alley. I knew the difference, obviously, but couldn’t get past the feeling whenever someone tried to put their hands on me.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure I understand why,” I admitted, “but your touch is different. It calms me, grounds me, makes everything okay, and I haven’t felt that way in a very long time.”
If ever.
I lowered my eyes at revealing that last piece of information, but I’d spoken the truth, nonetheless. “I don’t want you to stop.” I almost begged him, not wanting to relinquish this small piece of comfort I had in my life, the single ray of light in the never-ending darkness.
The shy grin crossing Ash’s face at my words lit me up inside like a beacon. Releasing himself from my hold, his hands moved to rest lightly on my waist as he stepped closer, making our bodies touch.
“This okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
Strong arms circled around my lower back to pull me closer, and a shudder shook my whole body as I reveled in the feel of him, of being in his embrace. My own arms mirrored his, sliding up and over his shoulder blades, his taut muscles rippling under my fingers.
“Yeah,” I managed, as he hugged me tighter, yet remaining careful of putting any pressure on my ribs.
He shifted slightly, and my crotch rubbed against his thigh, sending ripples of pleasure straight to my cock, now thickening rapidly in my shorts and shocking the hell out of me. I hadn’t been able to get hard once since the attack, and I was unprepared for the suddenness of getting an erection. Being so close to someone after all this time must be overloading my senses, as I couldn’t find any other explanation for what was happening to me.
Unable to stop, I pushed my hips against his leg, the pressure of his firm thigh on my hardening dick sending my pulse rocketing, bombarding me with sparks of desire. I shouldn’t have liked how fucking good he made me feel, but after my body being dormant for so long, I couldn’t help myself. The urge to get closer, to experience as much as possible, overrode all else.
“Mase,” Ash groaned, and I shuddered again. So few people ever shortened my name, but hearing him do so sent shivers of pleasure racing down my spine, making my cock throb and my balls tighten painfully. I was on the verge of coming from his voice alone, his distinctly male voice, and the realization sent another shock through my system and dragged me from my lust-filled haze.
Pulling my arms away from where they were clinging to Ash—clinging, for fuck’s sake—I jerked us apart, moving out of his hold, putting a couple of feet between us.
“I’m sorry,” I panted, trying to get air in my lungs. “I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t—”
“It’s okay, really. It’s…it’s my fault,” he cut in, pushing shaky fingers through his hair. “It was too much, too soon. I should have stopped us, should have known.”
I ashamedly took the out he gave me, too embarrassed to speak, not sure what I’d say anyway to explain my uncharacteristic behavior.
“Look,” he said, “I think I should go, give you some space.” I dipped my head, not stopping him this time, watching as he retreated another couple of steps to give me the distance I needed, though from the arousal humming through my body, wasn’t sure I wanted. My eyes dropped to his denim-clad thigh, the same one I’d rubbed against moments ago, making my cock twitch at how much pleasure the friction had given me. His hand dropped in front of his body as he turned, heading for the door, but he didn’t move quick enough to cover the prominent bulge he tried to hide.
Was he hard too?
The thought I’d turned him on made my mouth go dry.
“How about a walk early tomorrow morning?” he asked, pulling my gaze back to his face, his voice so deep, so male. I struggled not to react.
“Huh?”
He half smiled. “I asked if you’d like to take a walk tomorrow. Along the beach. If we go early enough there won’t be anyone around, so you’ll be safe.”
“Sure,” I replied without thinking his request through, my scrambled brain currently fixated on him getting a hard-on.
“Good.” He beamed at me. “I’ll be around at six thirty, okay?”
When I didn’t answer, he gently asked, “Mase?”
My stomach went all fluttery again at the shortening of my name. He made it sound so much more intimate, when it never had before. “Six thirty. Got it.”
“Night, then.” He slipped out the door, and like last time, I was left staring at the space he left behind, my brain racing over what I’d done, trying to figure out what on earth I was going to do about it.
*
Six twenty-five the next morning, I felt sick. My stomach churned as nausea rolled through me, making me freezing cold one minute, boiling hot the next. I pulled at the T-shirt and sweater I wore to try to reduce the dampness sticking to my body.
I was going out. For a walk.
I was going out where there were other people.
People who would grab me.
Shoot me.
Kill me.
I sucked in a deep lungful of air, holding for a count of five, releasing for five, repeating the process over and over.
It wasn’t working.
This was ridiculous. We were taking a walk along the sand, for Christ’s sake. Keeping the beach house in my view at all times gave me the option of a fast escape to safety if I needed one. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
Except people trying to grab me, shoot me, kill me.
Another deep breath. Hold and release.
Shit.
The same argument kept spinning around in my head since waking far too early, trying to work through every possible scenario. How everything would be okay, and nothing untoward would happen. So why wasn't my brain getting the message?
Melrose Bay is a small, quiet seaside town. Ash would be with me the whole time, so I’d be safe. This managed to calm me like nothing else. He’d be there to protect me, not let anyone hurt me, and that comforting thought resonated right down to my bones.
The knock on the glass made me jump all over again, and the expression on Ash’s face went from open and friendly to one of deep concern.
No, no, no, I didn’t want that. Didn’t want Ash to see my struggle to leave the safety of my self-made prison.
Pushing open the door I’d unlocked earlier, he came rushing in directly to my side. His arms instantly wrapped around me, pulling me in, soothing me as only he could. I relaxed into him, the nausea in my gut easing as Ash took the weight of my body. I grabbed ahold of him, needing his calming presence like I needed oxygen.
“I feel so dumb,” I mumbled, nuzzling into his shoulder, his body warm through the light cream sweater he had on. He smelled fresh and clean. I inhaled deeply, the scent, plus the ever-present trace of lavender, combined with his strong arms encircling me, relaxed me even more. “It’s only a damn walk, for crying out loud.”
“We don’t have to go,” he replied against my ear, sending heat prickling down my spine.
“No, I want to.” And I did. I needed to move on, get better. “But—”
“But?” he prompted when I didn’t continue.
I didn’t want to admit my fears to him. How the thought of encountering people I didn’t know petrified me beyond belief. I was a grown-ass man for goodness’ sake, yet the idea of taking what should be an easy walk turned me into a nervous wreck.
“It’s dumb,” I answered.
Ash pulled away to look me in the face. It must have been a trick of the light, but his eyes appeared a paler green today. We were so close, only centimeters apart. His lips were a dark pink, a little dry from the sea air, full, slightly parted. A confusing and wayward thought flitted across my mind that I’d barely have to move at all to close the tiny bit of distance and kiss him.
“It’s not dumb,” he said dragging me back to our conversation. “And if it’s making you feel like this, it’s extremely important.”
I sighed and tried to lighten the mood. “I think they’re out to get me.” His raised eyebrow made me smile. “It’s true.”
“Mason.” By his tone alone, I figured I was in trouble. “Speak to me.”
“Okay, okay. Since the assault, I have a hard time being around other people. The more I think about being surrounded the more agitated I get until…” I hated talking about this shit.
“Until?” Ash prompted.
“Until, I totally freak out and have a panic attack.”
He continued to hold me in his arms but loosened his grip slightly to look me in the eyes, his gaze steady. If you were to look at our position from the outside, you’d think we were two lovers embracing, enjoying a private moment. Today though, us hugging hadn’t sent me into a panic like last night. I’d spent most of my time since then going over my feelings on the topic from every possible angle, and although I’d freaked out yesterday, today I’d become more settled with them.
Ash was rapidly turning into the closest friend I’d ever had, so why shouldn’t we hug? Why shouldn’t he be there when I freak out? It’s what happened in pretty much all the buddy movies I’d seen, and now experiencing the same circumstance for the first time, I finally got why. How good being able to lean on someone else for a change made me feel, for them to be there when I needed them most.
“You know I won’t let anyone near you, right?” he told me, his tone deadly serious. “You know I’ll protect you?”
I did. I did know.
“We don’t have to go for a long walk today. We could just make our way down to the bottom of the steps and sit there for a while, so you can get used to your surroundings from a different perspective until you’re ready for more.”
As long as I stayed with Ash, I didn’t care how far we went, but not stepping foot on the sand, was out of the question. Walking down to the bottom of the stairs would feel the same as walking to the end of the deck. I classed it as part of the beach house, so I’d still be on the property. Not pushing far enough out of my comfort zone. Ugh, I hated such a clichéd expression, but the phrase aptly described my current thinking, so I went with it. Regardless, I’d not pushed anywhere near hard enough so far to do me any good, and I needed that to change.
I shook my head. “It’s the beach or nothing.”
A pleased grin spread across his face. “Is that right?”
I beamed at him, feeling like a teenager suddenly. “Yep.”
Ash laughed, let me go, and headed for the door. Opening wide the final barrier to the outside world, he ushered me through. “So, let’s go for a walk.”