Chapter Eighteen
Ash
We lay half awake, half asleep, drifting in a satiated bubble of bliss, neither of us having the energy to move. As well as the cum that’d dripped out of my ass, dried patches of the stuff also plastered my legs, body, and neck, with some even managing to get in my hair. I’d never come so much or so far in my life. I’m sure I’d blacked out at one point as I shot my load, Mason had been fucking me so deep and hard. Whoever said size doesn’t matter has never had that man’s big dick up their ass. I wasn't going to walk normally for days.
Raising my head, I regarded him quietly, his head resting on my chest, his body draped half over mine, one arm and leg pinning me down. Normally, I’m the one wrapped around the person I’m with if we ever got to the point of sharing a bed. Mostly so I’d be the one to extricate myself and decide when to leave and not the other way around.
But this, surprisingly, didn’t freak me out at all. I didn’t feel vulnerable by not having the control I normally found necessary. Mason clinging to me, choosing to stay, made me feel safer for some reason, which was kind of weird.
I shifted in the bed, and he snuggled closer, letting out a contented sigh. The movement, however, made me itch where patches of flaky cum remained stuck to me.
“We really need to get cleaned up,” I murmured into his hair. Reluctantly sidling toward the edge of the bed, Mason’s arm wrapped tighter around my waist, holding me in place.
“Why don’t we take a shower?” he asked, his drowsy voice so sexy. I’d gotten a taste of what life might be like waking up with Mason last weekend, before all the drama spoiled it. I liked having the chance do so again and fantasized about sleeping in bed together becoming a regular occurrence. “I’ll even let you wash my back if you want.”
“Wow, what an offer. How could I possibly refuse?”
He lifted his head, his expression sleepy and content. Releasing me and rolling to the side, he stood and stretched, his body on full display, allowing me the chance to drink him in. The dusting of hair on his muscular chest, the six-pack abs, and his cock, always half hard around me, swayed between his thick thighs.
“I’ll get the water going. Come in when you’re ready.” He raked me over from head to toe, his gaze lingering on my own cock for a few seconds. “I’ll be waiting.”
Lying there, I tracked him as he disappeared into the bathroom. No matter what was going on with him and his work, whatever he kept hidden from me, he’d forever be the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
I heard the shower running a moment later, so I hopped off the bed and followed after him. Already under the spray, his dirty blond hair slicked away from his face, the water cascaded over his body, rivulets falling down his sleek skin and into the crease of his amazing ass.
Looking over his shoulder at me, his expression hungry, butt cheeks flexing as he moved, he offered me his hand as I stepped into the shower with him, letting the hot water wash away the last of my worries. Glancing at his already erect cock, I found it difficult to believe I’d had his thick length inside me. Then my ass clenched, the delicious ache informing me otherwise.
And here together, his longing for me so clear, so evident, made me glad my dark moment hadn’t dampened the intense sexual pull between us.
Squeezing the shampoo into his palm, he gestured at me. “Turn around.” I obliged, facing away from him. His large hands rubbed the suds into my short hair, the ends of his fingers massaging my scalp over and over, then sliding down to my neck, working in lazy circles.
“Feel good?” he asked, and I hummed my agreement. Grabbing the shower gel next, he soaped me up, first caressing my shoulders, before slowly moving down my body to my ass, his hands on my cheeks, pouring gel along my crease, his fingers working the gel in, grazing my hole.
“Mase,” I moaned softly, leaning against his chest, needing his support. Around and around, he teased, caressing the rim with the tip of his finger before pushing past my sphincter. My body getting hotter for a different reason than the shower, he kept up the pressure, his finger entering me, retreating, circling, penetrating again. How the hell he could say he’d never had sex with a man was beyond me. He was a natural, knowing exactly what to do, where to touch, how to touch, to stoke my fire.
His other arm slipped around my waist and down, taking my hard dick in his soapy hand, the bubbles making the glide of his fingers along my length easy and smooth. Twisting his hand around the head, pleasure rippled along my limbs, my body burning, my pulse tripping, heart beating faster.
“So beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, sucking on the fleshy lobe as his finger fully slipped inside me, swiftly followed by another, and another. “So needy for me.”
“Yes,” I groaned, my body jerking in response as he expertly grazed my prostrate, constantly applying pressure, sending me soaring. “Please,” I begged, which is all I said around him lately. “Mason, please.” After removing his fingers, the emptiness was instantly replaced by the head of his cock easing into me. Despite him fucking me earlier, my hole was still tight, the rim tender, and I gritted my teeth as he slid his way inside, stretching me to my limit.
But this man already knew me, knew my body, how I liked to be handled, and with a sharp thrust stealing the air from my lungs, he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. My inner muscles clamped down hard around him, holding him in place, exactly where I needed him to be.
I was so full of him, his thick length more than I’d ever taken in the past. The pain dissipated, no longer an issue as he leisurely withdrew, making me tremble for what came next. Easing himself forward, the delicious burn turned to sparks of satisfaction erupting along my spine, sending flames licking through me, making me hotter.
“So tight,” he moaned as he continued his sensual torture, matching the motion of his hand on my cock to his slow thrusting. “Don’t want it to end.” Never quickening his pace, I gradually came apart from his expert touch. Each time he filled me, his arm across my shoulder, resting over my heart, he took another piece of me. The tenderness of his kisses along my shoulder, the soft words he uttered against my neck strengthened the emotions within me. The need for him to want me, to stay, to make me his, to keep me, set off a profound yearning deep in my heart.
I’d thought I’d barely begun to fall in love with Mason, but I was way beyond that, and as he sent me over, falling with me into oblivion, feeling his cum coat my inner walls as mine landed on the tiled floors at my feet, my heart followed over the top, freefalling into the abyss.
His to want.
His to catch.
His to keep.
No matter what happened in the future, however our lives turned out, I was his, body and soul and there was not a single thing I’d do to change that.
After the shower, we dressed in sweatpants and T-shirts, and barefooted, ventured out of the bedroom. No Gabe greeted us, so he must be out somewhere. He’d never be my favorite person, but he must be someone’s as he’d hardly spent any time at the house all week. And I’d often hear him coming home in the early hours of the morning.
“I want to check my laptop,” Mason said, looking around the room and frowning.
“It’s next door. We left it upstairs on the balcony when we came over here.”
“Oh yeah.” He smiled. “I won’t be a sec.” He went off in search of his computer, leaving me with the same sinking feeling I’d had earlier. How did being with him make me feel on top of the world one minute and so low the next?
Tapping my pockets, I backtracked down the hallway to the bedroom to get my phone, deciding I must have left it in my shorts. As I passed the front door it opened and Gabe entered, looking decidedly rumpled. I raised my eyebrow. He gave me a cheeky grin in return. It was no more than four thirty on a Thursday afternoon, so what on earth had he been up to, for him to look like that?
Probably the same as you , my inner voice answered, and from the look of him, I had to agree.
He headed past me for the stairs, and I got a whiff of cologne, acrylic paints, and a hint of turpentine from his clothes. The penny dropped a second later. “Oh my God,” I screeched, my eyes going wide. “You’re fucking Flynn aren’t you?” His cheeks reddened, and he had the good grace to look uncomfortable, immediately confirming my suspicions. “Oh my God,” I repeated. “You’re fucking one of my friends.”
He laughed at me, literally laughed. “Well, all I’ll say to that is ditto buddy.” Okay, yeah, he had me there. “And also, why not? The guy’s cute and what he can do with his tongue—”
“Stop,” I squealed holding up my hands, “For goodness’ sake, stop.”
“You did ask,” he replied airily as he walked up the stairs. “I need a shower. Damn, paint dust and wood shavings get everywhere.”
I shooed him away in disgust. “I need to go bleach my brain.”
His laughter followed him upstairs, leaving me alone with the latest update on his sexual shenanigans. He definitely wouldn’t be the first to fall into my friend’s bed by any stretch of the imagination. The way Flynn carried on, he’d soon need a revolving door on his apartment, or a decent appointment calendar to keep track of everyone. How he ever remembered their names or what they looked like anymore I had no clue.
Grabbing my phone, I padded back into the living area at the same time Mason returned, laptop in his hand.
Staring at the offending item, the urge to talk to him about the email was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it down. Instead, I asked, “You found it okay?” He nodded at me, but rather than pull out a stool at the bar top and do whatever he needed to, he simply placed the laptop on the counter, making me frown in confusion. “I thought you needed to do something.”
“I did what I wanted over there,” he said and tilted his head toward my house.
“Was it stuff for work?” I fished, hoping he’d give me the response I wanted to calm my unease.
He gave a small shake of his head. “I’m not working or answering work emails.” He came up beside me and kissed my forehead. “And what I wanted to do was nothing important, and quick, so now it’s done. I can forget about it,” he said closing the topic for further discussion. He headed into the kitchen. “Drink?”
I agreed absently, analyzing what his comments might mean. Was he being honest when he told me he’d not checked any work-related emails or reports? He’s a partner in a huge construction company. Surely, he had to check in occasionally, didn’t he? Had the email come in anyway and he’d not seen it? If what he’d done hadn't been important why did he need his laptop in the first place? And if it isn’t work, why didn’t he use his phone to do what he needed to do? Isn’t that what I and most everybody else did, after all?
I rubbed at my temple, trying to calm the headache beginning to form.
“Did someone say beer?” Gabe asked, coming into the kitchen and making me grind my teeth in frustration. With him around, there’d be no way to question Mason further.
“Hey, stranger,” Mason replied. “Beer coming right up.”
We sat outside on the deck, them on the lounges, and me out of place in the deck chair off to the side, feeling oddly like they were the ones dating, and I’d come for a visit. For the first time since we’d met, I wasn't the sole focus of Mason’s attention, and I found the feeling of being sidelined disconcerting. Christ, when did I become so clingy?
Before him, I relied on nobody but myself and had managed pretty well, if you don’t include the times I slept in a hostel or had no food. But even including those low moments, I’d eventually found a way out of my predicament, coming back stronger. So why the compulsion to act like a bear with a sore head for the simple reason Gabe held Mason’s attention for five minutes instead of me?
Needing some time alone, I stood and walked to the top of the stairs leading down to the beach. “I’m gonna get some air,” I called to them, and not waiting for a response, headed down the steps and out of their view, relaxing my shoulders once I had some space away from them both.
As I walked down to the beach, there was no deep thinking going on, merely the simple enjoyment gained from the peace and quiet of the late afternoon. My one regret, not putting on some footwear. My feet protested every time I stepped on detritus from the flowers and grasses growing on the side of the hill on the way down.
There’d been more tourists about in the last couple of days, and a few remained at the farthest end of the beach closest to town, leaving this stretch of sand solely to me. The breeze gently ruffled my hair as I headed straight for the shore, the distinctive smell of sea and salt reminding me of being on my surfboard in the deep ocean.
Now I had some money I could afford to buy a new one so I could lose track of time for a few hours—just me, my board, and the waves.
How long I stood there staring out to sea, I’d no idea, but I had no problem sensing Mason behind me, off to my right. Not too close, he waited patiently for me to acknowledge his presence.
“Hi,” I greeted him, pivoting around until we were face-to-face. “What are you doing down here? Did you come down here with Gabe?” I searched for him; but no, he was alone. A huge surge of pride welled up inside me because he’d managed to walk all this way by himself.
“Hi,” he replied instead. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He grimaced. “Though I guess I am.”
Closing the five or so feet between us, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You’re not.”
He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I don’t seem to be able to stay away from you.”
His words filled all the cold places inside me with glowing warmth. Between us, we had a fair way to go, but talking was a perfect place to start. Calming down, I finally worked up the courage to ask him the question bugging me all day. “You got an email this morning.” He didn’t respond, only stared intently at me. “I promise I didn’t read anything,” I stressed, wanting him to be clear that’s not something I’d ever do. “It popped up while I worked on my spreadsheet, but I saw the title.” I let what I’d said settle, wondering what he’d say. When I got no response, I asked the question I most needed the answer to. “Are you leaving soon and going back to work?”
He sighed and pulled me into his arms. “I didn’t want to say,” he replied, “but I am, and I’m not.”
I froze. “What do you mean? Are you leaving or not?”
“Not,” he confirmed. “For a while anyway. I’m going to take on more responsibility at the beginning of next month, so I have a couple more weeks. Until then, I’m not working and don’t intend to.
Two weeks is all I have left of his company each day. Two short weeks!
“Why did you lie today about not doing work stuff?”
“I never lied. I told you I wasn’t working, and I’m not.”
“But you will be,” I pushed. “And soon you’ll be gone.”
He nodded a reluctant yes.
“So, what about us?” I tried to rein in my rising temper and remain calm, but my frustration and anger at the possibility of losing Mason so soon after we’d gotten together took over. “Are we finished in two weeks too?”
“Ash,” he pleaded.
“Answer the question.”
He sighed, releasing me. “I thought we were going to take things one day at a time. Keep everything casual as me leaving was always on the cards at some point.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what else you want from me.”
I love you. The words nearly fell from the tip of my tongue. I so badly wanted to say them, let him know how deep my feelings were for him, hoping the words might change his mind so he’d stay. But the quiet voice in my mind, the one I’d always listened to in the past, the one protecting me from doing anything foolish, prevented me. I mean, what’s the point in saying the words? He already said he’d be leaving, so they’d make no difference.
I make no difference. Same old, same old.
“You’re right,” I answered instead, my voice reasonable. “We were never a long-term arrangement, right? You were always going to leave.”
“That’s not all there is, and you know it.” I did, but I’d chosen to ignore the real reason he was here. “I can’t offer you long-term and never could. I can’t give you what you need.”
“What I need?” I threw my head back and laughed. Hollow. Brittle. “You have no clue what I need.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But I know what I need.”
“Oh?” I was terrified of his answer, guessing I wasn’t a part of his future plan.
“I need to get better; to heal physically and emotionally. I want to learn how to trust people again.”
My voice broke. “You don’t trust me?”
When he stayed quiet for such a long time I had the truth, the slight shake of his head confirming the answer. He didn’t trust me. After us being together nearly twenty-four hours a day for weeks and weeks. Working together to renovate my house. Having fun, talking, sharing, connecting in the most intimate and special way possible.
It meant nothing to him. I meant nothing to him.
He counted me the same as all the rest—dumped in the same shitty box as the strangers he passed on the street. “But you trust Gabe?” I asked, needing him to say it.
A nod: yes.
Spinning away, I stumbled along the beach, needing to put as much distance between us as possible. Ignoring his shouts, I kept walking, leaving him alone. My heart ached where he’d cracked the organ wide open, the pain and anger filling the cavity too much for me to process. But partway to the steps, I stopped midstride, remembering he’d made the journey down here alone since he couldn’t keep away.
Regardless of my current feelings, I readily acknowledged how difficult this had to be for him. The amount of effort he expended to reach me all by himself must have been immense. Turning around, I retraced my steps. He may have gotten to the shore on his own, but it didn’t mean he’d be able to return. No matter my current state of mind, I’d never forgive myself if I abandoned him.
Looking into his face, panic etched into his features as he surveyed his surroundings at the people walking along the sand towards him, the tourists now replaced by the locals back from work and out with their dogs.
He doesn’t trust me.
The words played on a loop in my head, getting louder with every step I took.
He doesn’t trust me.
The nearer I got to him, the more turbulent my mind became.
I’d gotten too close, given too much. I had trusted Mason with all I had, given that trust freely and been a fool to do so. You’d think I’d have learned with my checkered past, boyfriends dumping me, leaving me time and again, but no, I’d always come back for more. But this time, this damn time I’d fallen further, harder than I’d ever done in the past, and for what?
He doesn’t trust me.
Well, shit.
“Just so you know,” I gritted out, my fists bunching at my sides, refusing to touch him and help relieve his tension. Frantic eyes landed on mine, pleading, silently telling me how frightened he was as more and more people moved around us. He’d lose the battle any second if I didn’t get him out of here.
He needed my help but the thought of physically touching him, feeling the strength of his grip against my palm, knowing it would be the last time we connected sent hurt and anguish flooding through my body. Yet, if I didn’t take hold of him, he’d fly apart at the seams. If there were any other way to get him to move, I’d have taken it in a heartbeat, but I could tell he was already past the point of rational thinking, and I had to be the one to take the lead.
With my body shaking from the effort to hold in my emotions, I stretched out my arm, took his hand, and curled his cold and clammy fingers around mine. They fit so perfectly, entwined around my own. We fit so perfectly together. It cut me to the core I’d never be the one he’d choose a forever with. But despite knowing my future held a whole load of pain without him, I couldn’t leave without saying what was in my heart, and I lost the struggle to contain the words I so desperately wanted to say and for him to hear.
“I love you, Mason.”
He would never say the words back, and I didn’t expect him to. After all, one had to trust someone before they’d ever be able to love them, right?
The shock on his face nearly made me laugh, and I might have if my heart hadn’t been turned into a block of ice. “It’s fine you don’t feel the same way, and the words don’t hold any meaning anyway, not anymore. I wanted you to know, to tell you what you mean to me, and how much I trust you, even if you don’t trust me in return.” I tugged on his hand to get him moving toward the beach house steps. “You’re not ready. I get that. I do. And it makes me sad and angry to think you may never get back what you lost when all you need is to believe—in yourself, in me—to take the leap.”
We were silent all the way to his beach house. I headed straight to my bedroom and packed the few clothes I’d brought before heading to the living area where Gabe was nowhere to be seen, thank God. Let Mason explain to him what’d happened; they were close friends, after all, and he trusted him, didn’t he?
“Where are you going?” he asked, tension shading his voice.
“It’s time I left,” I said, “to go back home.”
“But the house is a mess, and there’s too much dust. You can’t.”
I tried to smile, failing abysmally. “There’s no point in staying with you. There’s nothing here for me is there? And more to the point, I don’t belong here anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just leave.”
Ridiculous? Anger again bubbled up inside me, and this time I saw no reason to hold back. “And why the hell not? My whole life people left me, walked away without a backward glance, not giving a shit about what happened to me—” I thumped my fist against my chest for emphasis. “—or how them leaving would make me feel.” I thumped again, harder this time. Snatching in a breath, I tried to calm down but only succeeded in making myself angrier. “All these years, I thought I wasn’t good enough. The reason everyone left was because something had to be wrong with me.” I thumped my chest again, harder still. “I believed it was always my fault. I lacked the ability to keep them around. I wasn't funny enough, or interesting enough, or attractive enough. I wasn’t boyfriend material. I had too many issues, too much baggage or whatever other crappy excuse I got when they left me, time after time.
“Well, no more. If I’m not good enough for anyone exactly as I am; if they don’t think enough of me to like me, love me, or even fucking trust me, they can just go fuck themselves.”
I forced some air into my too tight lungs. “This time, I’ll be the one leaving, the one moving on, making me happy from now on and not relying on anyone else to do it for me.
“Now it’s my turn. After everything we’ve been through together, if you don’t trust me enough not to hurt you, or to take care of you, to look out for you, to protect you, to love you, then that’s on you, Mason, not me.”
Gripping the bag firmly in my palm and grabbing the keys from the counter, I stormed out of the house, then walked the short distance over to mine. The adrenaline of a few moments ago was already dropping as reaction set in. Fumbling the keys a few times, I barely found the lock as tears swam in my eyes, blurring my vision. Blinking them away, I shoved the key in and opened the door, hurried inside, and closed it firmly behind me. Dropping my bag and falling to the floor with it, I curled up in a ball and sobbed my heart out.