Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
CASEY
M y head was pounding, my mouth dry and nasty. When I stretched, it only exacerbated the situation. Hangovers were my nemesis, and I avoided them, knowing my tolerance level and where surpassing it would leave me obliterated. And last night I sped right past it and plunged my way into a drunken stupor.
“Idiot,” I muttered, trying to sit up.
I flopped back down, throwing my arm over my eyes to stop the room from spinning. The urge to vomit was climbing in my throat, increasing as the events of the night returned to my memory.
“Oh, fuck.”
Mason had found me and beaten the shit out of the guys who’d been hitting on me. The same guys who kept buying me drinks, handing me a strong one when Riley’s early exit had distracted Mason’s thugs.
My stomach churned, and I stumbled out of bed, making it to the toilet just as the burn of all my drinks surged forward. I laid my head on the toilet, hating that I was so sick.
“That’s a sexy look.”
I peered up, seeing Mason’s outline in the moonlight that lit the room. The same light I’d thought was dawn waking me to slap me in the face for my stupidity.
I didn’t have the energy to say anything back, my stomach knotting as the bile burned its way up my throat. I lost my hold on it, closing my eyes. It spilled into the toilet, splatters repelling back into my face. I felt the cool touch of Mason’s hands as he pulled my hair back and waited for me to stop. When I could function again, I leaned back, hitting his legs and resting against them. My eyes closed to the sensation of his fingers pushing a strand of hair from my mouth.
Tears welled, but I kept my eyes closed to hold them at bay. I didn’t want to admit how stupid, vulnerable, and embarrassed I felt over what had happened.
“You know, when you invited me to come fuck you, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”
I laughed, which only stirred my stomach, sending the remaining contents of it spilling as I grasped onto the toilet. His hands never left me, his presence steady and comforting. Reaching up, I flushed the toilet, and collapsed back against him, wiping my mouth with the back of my arm.
“Done?” he asked, and I nodded, too exhausted to move.
He reached down and scooped me up, the gentleness of it a dichotomy to the way he’d tossed me over his shoulder hours earlier. I rested my head on his chest, the strength of it comforting until he laid me on the bed, pulling the blankets up over my rumpled dress. His green eyes held concern and an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint.
I turned from his gaze, hating how weak I looked. He walked away and the tears I’d been fighting released, a few slipping quietly down my cheek. I heard the water running, then his footsteps returning. The mattress moved as he sat next to me, laying a damp cloth on my forehead. His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, and I glanced back at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I know. Get some rest.” He went to rise, but I grabbed his wrist.
“Stay, please.”
His brow creased.
“I’m not in any condition to seduce you,” I joked. “I just…”
His eyes searched mine, and he rose from the bed, turning his back on me. Sighing, I rolled to my side, taking the rag and holding it like it was a piece of him. But the door didn’t open. The bed shifted, and he turned me into his chest. His clothes were still on, but I didn’t complain, loving how perfectly I fit against him. His arm wrapped around me, and I rested my head and hand on his chest.
“They put something in your drink, Case,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear him. “They were predators, ones Krill had on his radar. His men dealt with them, and I dealt with my men for letting them near you.”
I tried to raise my head, but he held me tighter. “Your men didn’t do anything?—”
“They left you vulnerable and let…” His muscles tensed. “Go back to sleep, Casey.”
I let it go, knowing he’d needed to reprimand his men. This business was a deadly one, and they’d let me dictate the night. Mason was right to be angry at them and at me. I’d been stupid and his reaction was the same as Tyson’s would have been. Leaning further into his hold, I closed my eyes, listening to Mason’s steady heartbeat and loving the strength of his arms, the way his fingers softly caressed my shoulder. I vaguely wondered if he’d been here the entire time, watching over me as I slept. Worried about me.
I drifted off to Mason’s touch and the fleeting thought that this night had changed the seductive flirting we’d been doing into something more, something real.
When I woke, Mason was gone, but what I’d thought was a hangover before had compounded. I rolled over with a groan, squinting my eyes at the sun that was blinding me through the crack in the curtains. Curtains that had been open when I’d crawled into my bed. Mason must have closed them to let me sleep longer. The act was a sweet one, but then everything about what he’d done last night had been sweet.
There was a light tap at the door and my belly flipped in anticipation before it reminded me it was still queasy. Riley peeked in.
“Wow, you look like death,” she joked, coming into the room.
“Says the woman who hadn’t showered in days when I first saw her.”
“Touche.” She pulled the curtains open, and I hissed, shielding my eyes from the glare.
“It’s after eleven. Get up. Mason had one of his guys run to get bagels this morning to soak up the alcohol.”
My stomach churned violently, and I shivered at the thought of food. Riley pulled my blankets off, shaking her head when she saw I was still in my dress.
“You’re a mess,” she teased.
“I feel like a mess. Is Mason here?” I asked, trying to sit up and hoping it wasn’t obvious that I really wanted him to be.
“No. He took me out to the club and a few other places this morning to get a feel for the business.”
“Which club?” I asked, raising my brow. I knew about the risqué one my brother preferred to oversee, but I wasn’t sure if Mason would bring Riley in on that aspect yet.
“The one we went to last night. Although he told me about the other one. Yuck.” She flopped next to me, the movement of the mattress turning my stomach. “You don’t think Greyson has one of those, do you?” She bit her bottom lip, her expression reflecting the worry the thought had caused her.
“You know he’s a lot older than us, right? I mean, what is he? Forty something?”
“Yes,” she replied dreamily. Leave it to Riley to fall for an older man. I was no better. Mason was eight years older than me, but that didn’t come close to the age difference between Riley and Greyson.
“Then that means he’s seen a lot more tits than yours, Ri.”
She elbowed me. “I don’t have to think about it, Casey.”
“Yeah, you prefer to think you found a forty something year old virgin?”
Her laugh told me he was anything but and the blush that filled her cheeks said everything I needed to know about the personal side of Greyson Tides.
“Mason told me what happened,” she said, quickly changing the subject.
I lifted myself from the bed, trying to steady my walk as I breathed in my hand to see just how heinous my breath was. I jerked my head back, trying not to gag. Brushing my teeth became my priority when I reached the bathroom.
“And what did he tell you?” I asked between brushes.
“That those assholes drugged you and no one noticed until he got there.”
Until he rescued me, I thought. And suddenly the incident took on an entirely different light. Mason had rescued me, protecting me from the assholes I’d naively flirted with in my attempt to get even with him.
“Case?” Riley was staring at me, and I realized I’d stopped mid-brush, the toothpaste dripping down my lip.
I returned to the sink and spit and rinsed before gurgling an extensive time with mouthwash. Content that my breath was up to par, I returned to the room, rummaging through my clothes for something comfortable. I didn’t care what I wore today. I only wanted to curl up on the couch and binge-watch something. Mason had seen me with vomit in my hair, so there was no sense in caring if I looked like a slob at this point.
I snagged a sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, along with clean undies and a bra, before heading back to the bathroom.
“Casey.”
I turned. “What do you want me to say, Ri? That I fucked up? That I got trashed because I was angry at your brother? That I didn’t want to go out, but I wanted to get even with him for turning me down?” I stopped, biting my tongue and realizing I’d said too much.
Her emerald eyes studied me with no judgement. “Did you tell him that?”
Sighing, I let my anger go. “No. No, I didn’t.”
She stood and came over to me. “You might want to. I can’t tell you he’ll admit his feelings, but I can say he’s a mess, and I think it has to do with you.”
I shook my head. “It’s Tyson. If I was any other woman, he would have taken me up on it by now.”
“Ew, that’s just gross every time I even try to picture it.”
“That you try to picture your brother having sex is gross on its own, Riley,” I teased.
“You’re nasty. Anyway, you’re not any other woman, Case. You’re you and you’re Tyson’s sister.”
“I know.”
She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re already like a sister to me?—”
“You’d text me more if that were true.”
Punching me playfully, she said, “I’m serious, Case. You’re like a sister to me and if you and Mason end up together, that just makes it even better.”
She waved her hand in front of her face and headed to the door. “Your breath no longer smells like death, but you stink like a bar.”
“Thanks, that makes me feel better.”
Laughing, she paused, her hand on the knob. “Maybe you’ll even be my sister-in-law…if Tyson doesn’t kill him first.”
My jaw dropped, but she’d left the room before I could process what she’d said. Mason and I had barely touched each other, and she’d already married us off. The thought sent a shiver through me that sank deep into my soul like it belonged there. I shook it off and showered, washing the stank of the club from my skin and the lingering touch of the men Mason had beaten from me.
When I emerged from my room, I found Riley munching on pretzels in the kitchen.
“Don’t they have a television?” I asked, spying the bagels Mason had gotten for me. I tried hiding my smile because they were from a local bakery he and Tyson would take us to when we were kids. He’d always teased me about my love for their bagels, and it surprised me that he’d remembered such a trivial thing.
“There’s one in the basement. That’s where they have the movie screen set up and the fun stuff. This is just for show, so they look mature.”
I glanced at her, seeing the knowing smile she gave me when I picked out a bagel.
“Look mature? Your brother is the second most deadly boss in this province and my brother is just as feared. The only one who outdoes them is your old man.”
Scoffing, she said, “My old man?”
I stuck my tongue out at her before sipping on some water and waiting to see how my stomach would handle it. I was so dehydrated that I wanted to gulp it down, but I didn’t want a repeat of the previous night.
Bagel in hand, I wandered out of the kitchen on a hunt for the television. “Come spend the day doing nothing with me,” I called to her as I searched. “It’s my last day here.”
“I would, but Mason sent Breck to pick me up. He wants to take me shooting.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You with a gun is a bad scenario, Ri. You’re likely to shoot Mason before I can get him in my pants.”
“Eww, dammit Casey. Stop putting those images in my head. I don’t care what you do with my brother, but I don’t want to know about it.”
I wandered back to the kitchen. “Fine. Where the fuck is the basement?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a nice mouth you’ve got on you.”
“That’s what he said,” I added, laughing at my joke.
Her snort was loud, and she burst out laughing with me. We’d always been silly, and I missed hanging out with Riley. It didn’t matter how much time passed between our visits, we were always the same when we were together. Just two goofy friends, oblivious of the dangerous world our brothers sheltered us in, me ignoring it and her unaware of it until now.
I talked Riley into hanging out with me until Breck found us and hauled her away to wherever Mason was waiting for her. The rest of the day, I curled on the leather sofa watching movies.
Riley hadn’t lied. The basement reflected the relaxed side of Mason and my brother when they weren’t playing the parts of dangerous gangsters. Video games and pinball machines lined one wall at the far end of the massive room. A pool table sat in the middle. There was a bar against the other wall, a full range of alcohol, and even a stocked fridge. The other half of the basement was a movie theater, complete with reclining leather seats and a long leather sofa in the front. I tried not to think of either of them getting busy with women on the sofa I was now comfortably occupying. A streak of jealousy stung me when I thought of Mason on it, my mind envisioning a scene a little too vividly until I shooed it away.
Neither of us was innocent, and it wasn’t like we were together. I couldn’t even get him to fuck me, let alone anything more serious.
I was mid-movie, lost in the fantasy world on the screen, when Mason picked up my legs and sat on the couch next to me, laying my legs over his lap. I peeked over at him.
“I’m covered in blankets, my body hidden below layers of clothes, and now you decide to touch me?”
He gave me a coy grin that sent a torrent of flutters through my belly. “I told you, you’re too easy. I like a challenge, Case.”
“And the sloppy, unkempt looking girl with no makeup and an ‘I’ve been vomiting’ pallor is a challenge?”
He shrugged. “It’s cute.”
I flopped my head back, realizing I didn’t even have my hair down. I’d thrown it up in a messy ponytail, which had since started loosening so that curls lay in chaos around my face.
“Did you eat?” he asked, rubbing my ankles beneath the blanket.
“Just the bagel this morning.” I peered back over at him. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“It was nothing. I would have beaten the shit out of them if they’d touched Riley, too.”
“And the bagels?”
He looked back at me, his green eyes hooded in the dark room. “Were for you. And I hope you know, I don’t hold hair back from puke for just anyone.” The wink he gave me sent my heart pounding, and I swallowed a little too loudly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you make that noise every time you swallow, or does it depend on what’s going down your throat?”
My mouth gaped, my heart rate doubling. “It depends,” I answered, hearing the shake in my voice.
Laughing, he picked my feet up and rose. “I had Finch pick pizza up. Your stomach okay with that?”
I nodded as he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my head. “Riley’s out with Breck still. I have her learning the ropes at the club. Stay here and I’ll bring something down for you.”
His face hovered over mine and I reached up, placing my hands on either side of it, but he drew away, my heart dropping. “None of that, Case.”
Disappointed, I looked away, staring at the screen. His thumb tilted my face back to him. His eyes were intense as they dropped to my lips and trailed the path his thumb took as it brushed over them.
“Then what?” I asked. “We go back to teasing until you send me to my room alone and dripping while you stalk off just as unsatisfied as I am?” He glanced back up and the hunger in his eyes left my knees weak. His fingers traced my neck and when he lifted them, I kept them in place, leaning into them. “I leave tomorrow, Mason. It’s one night. One night that won’t hurt anyone. One night no one needs to know about.”
He moved his hand, embracing mine and pinning it against the couch. Bringing his face closer, his lips swept across mine and my heart leaped to life. “Can you do just one night, Casey?” The torment in his voice sent my heart stuttering, the emotion behind it palpable. “Because I’m not certain I can.”
His words tore through me, leaving an ache in my chest, one that went too deep, and I thought he might be right. One night wouldn’t be enough.
“But it’s all we have,” I said, hearing how raspy my voice sounded.
He stood, letting my hand go and leaving me with a strange emptiness. My eyes followed his path until he was gone. I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and hating the uncomfortable feeling that still sat in it. The movie ended, the credit music playing as I stared blankly at the floor, trying to work out the emotions that were sifting through me.
By the time Mason returned, the credits had ended, the next in the series starting. I’d paid no attention to it, still rattled like I was each time I was with him. He stood over me, handing me a plate with a piece of pizza on it and a ginger soda. Sitting on the other end of the sofa, he sipped on his glass of liquor.
I eyed the soda, knowing there had been none in his kitchen. It was another caring gesture, another glimpse at the soft side of him that he’d given me last night.
“Figured it would help your stomach,” he said with a shrug, looking uncomfortable as if I’d caught him doing something he didn’t want seen.
Deciding to let it go and take it as the sweet gesture it was, I nodded to his drink. “Your meal looks a bit skimpy.”
He smirked. “Like I prefer my women.”
I pursed my lips, not liking how that comment left a stir of envy in me. He took a sip, keeping his eyes on me like he was waiting for my reaction. Placing the soda on the floor, I picked at my pizza, dragging my finger through it and scooping up a long string of cheese. I brought it to my mouth, holding my tongue out and letting the cheese slowly stretch onto it before putting my finger between my lips and sucking the sauce off.
His grip on his glass was so tight I thought it might shatter, that ravenous look returning to his eyes.
“I thought you preferred your women in sweats and leggings?” I said, swirling my tongue around my finger.
“Fuck, Casey,” he grumbled.
I took a bite of my pizza, making sure to lick my lips with deliberate slowness. “If that’s not the case, I can go upstairs and change.”
He grimaced, his expression hardening, and I knew the game was over again. I’d gotten a moment of revenge for his earlier teasing, but that was all I’d get. He wanted control again. He stood, setting his drink down and grabbing the plate from my hands. “That’s enough,” he said.
Huffing, he sat back down, taking my legs and yanking me down so they were in his lap again. He snatched the remote, mumbling about my poor taste in movies, and started flicking through the options. It seemed odd that he hadn’t left the room.
“I hear that one’s good,” I said as he flipped past a romance. He shot me a look. “If you want me to stay down here, I’m not watching that shit.”
“You’re staying?” I asked, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.
“If you behave.” He stopped on a sci-fi, and I shook my head. “What?” he asked. “You’re not going to behave?”
With a laugh, I replied, “No, you put a dorky sci-fi on. Should I tell the guys that’s what you’re watching?”
He glared at me. “There’s nothing wrong with my choice. It’s better than your shit.”
Shrugging, I sat back, content to watch whatever he wanted as long as he continued to rub my legs the way he was. By the time the movie was half over, his hands had risen to my thighs. I didn’t think it was an intentional move, there was nothing sexual about it. Instead, it was comforting, almost loving. I glanced over at him, catching him looking at me rather than at the movie. He held my gaze when any other man would have looked away.
Pulling my legs from him, I sat up, maneuvering so that I was sitting on my knees next to him.
That flash of lust returned to his eyes. “When I want you on your knees, I’ll tell you,” he said, sending butterflies through my stomach.
“But you won’t,” I said, leaning closer. “You won’t let yourself and tomorrow I’ll be gone.”
He reached up, brushing a curl from my eye. I saw the desire in his eyes, the same that was simmering inside of me, waiting for us to take this further, the same that wouldn’t turn to a blazing fire because doing so would send my brother off the deep end and drive a wedge between him and Mason that might never be repaired. Tyson held grudges and he would never look at Mason the same if he had a one-night stand with me. Although I was certain from Mason’s remark earlier that, just like me, he wanted more than one night. It would never happen because Mason wouldn’t risk it. As much as I didn’t want to put Mason in that position or hurt my brother, I craved for Mason to take the chance and let me experience his touch. But I knew my brother’s expectations for Mason were too high and Mason’s attempt to meet them and ignore what was growing between us was just as high.
“Will you miss me when I’m gone?” I asked, wanting desperately for him to say yes. Needing to hear the words even if it risked hurting us both to hear him admit it.
“I can’t miss what I haven’t tasted.”
My stomach flipped, warmth spreading through my thighs.
“And what if someone else tastes me?” His teeth clenched, the muscles in his jaw tense. I was pushing him when I shouldn’t be, but fear was driving me. A fear that there was more to us and if we let this chance go, we would lose something we would regret for the rest of our lives. “What if there’s a man in Armina waiting for me to return? Waiting to take what you won’t, to own what you claim is yours, but won’t let yourself have?”
His eyes darkened, and he leaned into me, his fingers draping down my cheek before he took my chin in them, his grip firm. “Then I’ll have to make a trip to Armina to put the mutt down. No one touches my girl.”
I inhaled so deeply that the air burned my lungs. “But I’m not your girl.” I sat back, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my head on the couch, seeing the vulnerability in his face for a fleeting moment. “You won’t let me be,” I whispered.
“Is there another man waiting for you in Armina, Casey?” he asked, his hands pulling my ankles back to his lap.
I shook my head. “Is there a woman you’re turning me down for, Mason?”
His lips turned upward to form a crooked grin that made me want to pull him over and kiss him. “And what would you do if there was?” he asked, raising his brow.
I pulled my legs back, ignoring how he tried to hold on to them and crawled back over to him. His eyes perused me, a devious smile taking over his grin. “I think I told you what I thought about you on your knees. The same goes for you crawling.”
I straddled him before he could stop me, pressing down against the firmness. The thought that I was glad Tyson was still in Armina with no chance of walking in on us like this flittered in the back of my mind as Mason’s hands moved up my hips, pushing my sweatshirt until he was touching my skin.
“First, I’d tell her you were being naughty with all your flirting and touching.”
“And then?” His laugh muffled his words.
I pressed my hands into his chest, sliding them up his muscles as I leaned closer. “Then I’d have one of your men throw her in the trunk and drop her outside the city before I returned to claim you.”
“Claim me?” He tilted his head, studying me intently. “No one claims me, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I said, my lips so close to his that the slightest move would bring us together. “I’m all woman, with enough experience to know how to break you, Mason.”
Desire flared in his eyes, and his hands squeezed my waist tighter. “No one breaks me, either.”
“No?” I moved forward, my lips meeting his. He pulled me into him, moving his hands further up my back.
The kiss was deep and sensual, with an emotion behind it that was mingled with lust. His touch was soft this time, no aggression behind it as he slid his fingers under my bra, unhooking it, then cupping my breast. A moan freed from me, and he pushed me down so that I was grinding into his hardness. My body was a roaring flame that was about to ignite into an inferno. But he ended our kiss, dropping his forehead to mine.
“No one breaks me, Casey.” His fingers brushed my nipple.
“No one but me,” I murmured.
He tipped his head up, removing his hands, and leaving my body cold without his touch. He placed them on my face, holding it while he searched my eyes for something I couldn’t name.
“One night, Mason.” But I heard the doubt in my voice because I now knew what he feared more than my brother’s anger. One night wouldn’t be enough…for either of us.
He shook his head, the conflict returning to etch in the lines around his forehead. Sighing, I went to move from him, knowing I needed to be away because the craving I had for him was too hard to deny, too hard to resist if I didn’t move. But his hands lowered to my arms, holding me in place. I could see the internal struggle. It was the same I’d recognized early on and forgotten to respect. I was hurting him again, and I hated myself for it.
Raising my fingers to his face, I traced the shadow of stubble along his jawline. “It’s okay, Mason. Let me go like you want to. I’ll stay away the rest of the night and leave early for the airport, so you don’t have to see me again.”
The hurt in his eyes confused me because that’s what he was telling me he wanted. “Let me go, Mason. It’s only one more night, then you never have to see me again.” Saying the words hurt, like a knife slicing my heart with each word, because I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see him every day, to have his touch be the only one I ever felt again. I reeled back at the thought, realizing what it meant and how complicated this had become for me and possibly for him.
He dropped his hands, and I climbed from him, fixing my bra and pulling my sweatshirt down. He didn’t move, but his eyes never strayed from me. I could see him fighting himself, trying to call the hard boss back to cover his emotion.
“Goodnight, Mason,” I said, picking up my plate and the soda. “I’m sorry.”
I left, unable to look back at him because the silence was a heavy burden, and I didn’t think I could bear seeing how I had broken him without even meaning to.