Chapter 17 #2
Do I want to pursue Mason? I know I told him I’d wait for him, which was utterly mortifying for me, and I doubted the words the minute they left my mouth. But to actively pursue him… it seems… kind of exciting.
Rolling over, I instantly panic, remembering that Ellis was in my bed last night. He isn’t in my bed right now. I rip the covers off and run out of my open doorway, catching my toe on the frame and hurling myself into the bathroom door opposite my room.
Pain radiates through my head and neck, and I reach for my pinkie as I rock back and forth on the floor. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”
“What the fuck, dude?” Megan appears in the hallway, shaking her head as she watches me, then she turns to walk away.
“Ellis?” I gasp. “Where is he?”
“Having his Weetabix!” she yells over her shoulder.
“Holy shit.” I check my pinkie is still facing forward and not hanging off and then fall back to the floorboard. “My heart. I think you broke my heart.”
“We’re on a mission or something. Lucy woke me up last night and filled me in.” Her head comes into my line of sight, Ellis on her hip and a steaming cup of coffee in her other hand. “Go shower and change into something tight.”
“I don’t know if I’m going in today.” I pull myself up and take the cup of coffee after giving Ellis a kiss. “She actually sent you over here to get me out of bed?” I question.
“No. She sent me over here to get Ellis up and out of bed. You need to go wash and do your hair and then you’re going to work. Stop throwing yourself a pity party and crack on.”
She disappears into the kitchen, and I follow, placing my mug down and taking Ellis from her.
“I need some time with Ellis today.”
“You have tomorrow off, don’t you? And the weekend.”
I nod and she smirks. “One more day and you get uninterrupted Ellis time.”
Deep down I know I have to go in—I can’t and wouldn’t let Logan down. I just wish I didn’t have to leave Ellis again.
“Now will you go and make yourself look like a hot goddess! You have a five p.m. PT session tonight and we need you looking fire.”
“You do realise that by five p.m. I will be a hot sweaty mess?”
“Hot, sweaty mess sounds exactly like something Daddy would like a bite of, wouldn’t you agree, Ellis?”
I give her a look and try to cover his ears. “Don’t dirty talk about me to my son.”
“He doesn’t understand.” She waves me off, taking him back from my arms. “Do you have your old dance tights? The ones we ripped you for because we could see the crack of your ass.”
“Probably.” I frown.
“Wear those! And a sports bra, nothing else.”
“You do realise how cold it is out?”
“Yes, Grandma! And we’re trying to find you a man to keep you warm at night. You’re welcome. Now go!” She spins me around and slaps my butt, pushing me back into the hallway.
Reluctantly, I pull open my drawer and search for my tights and bra. I chuck them on my bed and disappear to the shower. I say reluctantly, but if I’m being honest, there is nothing reluctant about my need for Mason Lowell.
Mase
Henry is leant over the reception desk whispering something in Gemma’s ear when I walk through the gym doors at five past five. Neither of them see me, but I make myself known by clearing my throat as I pass.
“Do you have to lie across the furniture, Evans?” He rears his head back, a smug smile transforming his face a second later. “What’s that look?”
“Nothing.” He chuckles.
I don’t like the bastard. Never did and never will. Logan insisted on taking him on but if it was up to me, I never would’ve had him loitering around the customers.
“You have a good workout this evening, Mr Lowell.” Gemma smirks, pushing on Henry’s chest and busying herself on the computer.
Gemma rarely speaks to me which I’m sure is all down to her jerk-off boyfriend, but her comment has me frowning as I climb the steps to the main floor.
It doesn’t last long, though, because Nina fucking Anderson.
My kryptonite.
My girl.
My Pixie.
My undoing.
And undoing she does, because right now I don’t know if she is the one breaking the walls I’ve built between us or if I’m fighting my way out all on my own.
She’s on the bike wearing nowhere near enough fucking clothes. Her top is a scrap of stretchy material that I could easily rip off her with one hand. It barely covers her tits, leaving the skin exposed at her ribs.
I itch to grasp her there.
To feel her skin beneath my hands. Feel her breathe.
She moves to stand on the pedals, as if she knows I’m standing behind her. As if she knows my cock is trying to knock the motherfucking wall down all by himself.
That ass.
That fucking ass.
As if sensing my presence, she flicks her eyes over her shoulder. A smile lights up her face and the dimple that pops on her cheek is like a sucker punch to the gut.
“Hey!”
No words leave me. I can only watch her as she pushes the pedals round on the bike, her legs and ass motioning in small circles. My thumb runs along my bottom lip, and then I pinch my cheeks between my thumb and fingers. “What are you wearing?” I ask.
She frowns, but it’s all cute and nothing like her.
“It’s my work clothes.”
“Are you dancing?”
“Well, unless you’re about to come dance with me, I’d say no.” She chuckles and comes to a stop, climbing from the bike.
Is that what it would take to get her to dance again?
“I’ll dance with you.”
Her step falters, confusion mixed with shock washing over her face. “What?”
“If that’s what you wanted, I’d dance with you.”
She watches me, her eyes intense and searching.
When she doesn’t say anything, I walk over to the weights where I start to stretch.
“Sorry!” she says after a minute, shaking herself off as she comes to stand in front of me. She starts to pull her hair up into a ponytail and her stupidly small top rises. I try not to look at her, knowing I won’t be able to control myself if I do.
Does she see what she does to me? See what’s happening in my damn gym shorts right now? I have the urges of a sixteen-year-old boy.
“Testosterone-filled teenage boys,” she mutters, dipping slightly to catch my eye and smirking at me.
The gall of the girl.
She’s fucking with me and enjoying it.
“Watch it,” I warn.
“What?” she exclaims. She knows what she’s doing.
I shake my head and drop back to the weight bench.
She steps up to my head.
“Nina—”
“I’m spotting you.”
I run my hand down my face, feeling hot and frustrated. “I don’t need a fucking spotter.”
“Are you sure?” She bends at the waist, leaning in to shake the bar above my head and effectively shaking her tits.
“You dropped one like this not that long ago. See, I have the scar to prove it.” Leaning even closer, she exposes her neck to me, running the tips of her fingers from the small red scar on her chin, right down to the tip of her puckered nipple on her left breast.
I snap.
Nina
It worked.
The proof is in the way he bolts from the bench, grasping my hand in his as he pulls me from the gym. I can tell he doesn’t know where he’s going, but the decision is made when he takes the steps to reception.
Gemma and Henry are sitting at the computer, and both of them look up as we rush past.
I should protest, right? Act like I’m being taken against my will.
“Not a fucking word,” Mason tells them, his voice like molten lava.
His face is hard as he walks through the luxury changing rooms. I already know I won’t let anything happen here, but I still want to know how far I can push him. Because right now I’m betting it’s pretty damn far.
He finds a cubicle tucked away in the back corner and drags me inside, then locks the door behind him.
“Mase.” I grin.
“Shush a minute.” He keeps his back to me.
When he doesn’t turn to face me, I reach out, dragging my hand down the centre of his back and then step around and in front of him.
“You said you would dance with me.” I smile up at him and it’s real. I’m not messing with him.
“Apparently I’d do fucking anything for you,” he rasps out.
“Yeah?” I tease my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to sound confident, but the way my stomach coils tight at his words has me faltering a little.
He reaches for me fast and I let him. Our mouths clash together in an all tongue and teeth kiss, and he instantly demands more. My back hits the door and he lifts me, lining himself up then pinning me with his hips.
Our lips remain locked. Slow, long, drawn-out kisses that make my body vibrate with a deeper need. The need to sear him into my soul for an eternity.
Never in my life has something felt so right.
I pull his bottom lip between mine and suck until he draws back. He rolls his hips into me hard and the sound that leaves him as I release the now red puffy flesh… it tells me one of two things:
1. We are moments away from him being inside me.
2. Mason. Lowell. Has. Lost. All. Control.
He pulls at his black shorts, lowering them until his cock is freed. A whimper slips past my lips as his body brushes mine. It’s involuntary, but my mind’s way of snapping me back to reality.
His lips slide up my neck and he sucks at the sensitive spot just below my ear. “Mason,” I moan.
“I need you.” His body visibly shakes as he steps back from me, lowering me so he can slide his hands into my gym tights.
“Stop,” I tell him, halting his hands with my own. “It’s not that I don’t want you.” I look up at him through my lashes. I reach out and gently run my nail down the vein in his cock, making it jolt. “But you don’t trust me.” I pout, trying to keep the mood light.
His head drops to the side, my name a stark warning on his red, swollen lips. “Nina.”
I slide the lock I had my hand braced on and then slip from the cubicle while he tries to conceal his erection.
“Nina!” he hisses.
I smile at him as I slip back inside just as fast. “I’m just playing with you. I have to show you, right?”
His nostrils flare and I know he’s as hot for it as I am. He’s teetering on the edge, and it shows in every inch of his virile body.
“You wanna finish yourself off?” I nod to his hand, which is cupping him. “Then we can go back to your session.”
He nods. Nods his cute little boyish head at me like an obedient puppy.
“What do you want, Mase?”
His eyes fall closed as he pulls himself once. “Touch me.”
“Nuh-uh.” His eyes pop wide. “I need you to trust me and that’s going to take time.”
“Nina—”
“But I won’t leave you,” I tell him. Reaching up, I palm my breast; my nipples are sensitive and pebble instantly.
“My need for you, Mason.” I squeeze myself over my bra.
“It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
It starts here.” I drop my hand to my stomach, watching as he starts to work himself, his eyes fixed on my hand.
“Then it spreads to here.” I cup my pussy and he lets out a groan.
I don’t allow myself the pleasure though.
This isn’t about me. “Then, when I think the need has eased and I’ve been completely undone,” I flex my fingers knowing he’s watching, then slide my hand from my centre, lifting it to cover my heart, “you hit right here.”
“Fuck.” He pumps twice more and stills, his cum spilling out and onto his abs.
I step up to him gingerly knowing I’ve pushed him and completely ambushed him during his PT session.
Our gazes don’t waver from one another. His eyes heavy and lust filled.
“You may not trust me right now, Bossman.” I swipe my finger over his abs then dip it into my mouth, not losing his eyes for a second. “But you will.”
It might be backwards, and a little unorthodox but I hope I’ve proven a point. I push up onto the tips of my toes and kiss the corner of his mouth before I walk out of the cubicle.