Chapter 32 – Mason
Chapter
Thirty-Two
MASON
We sit on opposite ends of the sofa, satisfied but not overfull from the exceptionally good steak and potatoes King cooked.
I did offer to help, but he insisted that I do nothing more than drink beer and look good, which I excelled at.
I enjoyed watching this giant hulk of a man maneuver nimbly around his kitchen with a dish towel slung over his shoulder and his biceps straining against his T-shirt.
It’s obvious he’s at ease in a kitchen, but here and now, with nothing to focus on but me and him and whatever this new thing is between us, he’s clearly uncomfortable. I’m not exactly a relationship kind of guy, but I’ve been on enough dates to feel comfortable sitting like this. Not King though.
I slide my bare toes beneath his muscular thigh. “How many relationships have you actually been in?”
He sucks on his top lip before he answers. “Only two, I guess.”
“Were they serious?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I was engaged to one of them.”
I almost spit out the swig of Bud I just took. “Engaged? To a guy?”
He scowls. “Of course not a guy.”
His unguarded reaction hurts despite me knowing how deep in the closet he is. “Obviously. I just didn’t realize you were bi.”
He scrunches up his nose, and it makes him look fucking adorable. “I don’t think I am. I can fuck a woman, but I’m not really into them, you know?”
I nod, impressed and shocked by his honesty. “Why did you get engaged to one then?”
“I was nineteen and trying to convince myself I was straight. It was a huge mistake. She got pregnant, and I was fucking terrified. But then she lost it, and as painful as that was for both of us, I also felt relieved. I realized I couldn’t live a lie my entire life.
So I ended it. She was heartbroken, although I think that had more to do with the miscarriage than me.
She married some guy a year later, and they have five kids now. ”
I’d love to unpack the sorrow in his tone, but I get the sense it would be better not to push too far too fast. “I’m sorry about the baby,” I say.
He shrugs and takes another slug of his beer.
“And the other one?”
He frowns. “The other what?”
“The other relationship? You said there were two.”
His frown deepens. “You, Mase.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You mean back in high school? That was serious for you?”
He pulls back, blinking rapidly. “It wasn’t for you?”
His tone is accusatory, and I’m pissed that I can’t stop tears from filling my eyes. “We were together for eighteen months. You were my first kiss, my first … everything. Of course it was fucking serious for me.”
His face clouds with confusion and sadness, and he shifts to his knees on the sofa and palms the back of my neck. “Every single thing I said to you after my dad found us was a lie. Everything before that was the truth. You have to know that.”
“But I never knew that, even though I told myself that it couldn’t possibly be true.
I didn’t want to believe it so much that I convinced myself something awful must have happened to you.
I was fool enough to hire a PI, and he found you a few weeks later, having pizza with some girl and living your best life in Idaho.
And as relieved as I was that you were okay, I have never felt more worthless and insignificant in my entire life as I did at that moment.
So, yeah, eventually I believed you meant every word of it, King. ”
He shakes his head. “I hate that I made you feel that way. But I wasn’t living my best life. I was living a fucking lie.”
“You fucking broke me,” I croak.
He presses his forehead to mine. “I know, baby. And I’m so fucking sorry.”
I try to wrench from his grip, but he holds me tighter. Why the fuck did we have to dredge up these old hurts right when we got to a good place? “Mase, please listen to me,” he pleads. “I loved you then, and I never fucking stopped.”
He seems as shocked by his admission as I am. “Are you telling me you love me?” I ask.
He licks his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving mine, and I wait for what feels like an eternity for his answer.
Because I want him to love me. I need him to.
“Yeah, I am,” he finally says, his breath warm on my face.
“You are the only person I have ever loved, Mason James. And I don’t see anything ever changing that. ”
This is what I wanted to hear, but it scares the hell out of me.
I still love him too, but he doesn’t get to know that.
Not yet. Not when I can’t trust him not to run as soon as things get a little tough.
Thankfully, he doesn’t wait for me to say it back.
He presses his lips over mine, demanding a kiss that I readily give.
It doesn’t take long for us to find our way to his bed, naked and urgent.
We paw at each other, grabbing, biting, sucking, and licking.
Hands and mouths taking and giving as we devour the other.
Before long, he has me pinned to the bed, one hand on the back of my neck, and he pushes his thick cock inside me.
Fuck, it burns even with all the lube, but it’s everything I need.
“Nobody has ever felt this good,” he says with a growl.
It’s true for me too. I’ve had plenty of incredible sex over the past eighteen years, but it’s always been different with him.
He rests most of his weight on top of me, his mouth pressed against my ear.
“You’ve always belonged to me, and you always fucking will. ”
“Yeah.” It’s supposed to be a challenge, but it comes out as a moan of agreement.
“Yeah.” He pulls out and sinks back inside me, causing white-hot pleasure to sear through every cell of my being. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever fucked bare, Mase. What will it take for you to trust me enough to do that again?”
Keep doing what you’re doing and you can fuck me any way you want. Fortunately, my brain kicks in before my dick can make me vocalize that response. “Prove you’re clean and we can talk,” I pant out.
His lips dust over my skin. “Good boy.”
Jesus fuck. “And I’ll do the same for you.”
“Of course you will.” He goes deeper, stimulating my prostate and making stars flicker behind my eyelids.
“I’m gonna fuck you again, King,” I moan.
He laughs, and his breath ruffles my hair. “I know, baby. I can’t fucking wait. But right now I’m fucking you, so bite down on that pillow real hard for me and my neighbors won’t hear you screaming my name when you come.”
I sink my teeth into the soft foam without protest—having some guy scream out his name in the throes of ecstasy isn’t exactly conducive to us keeping this thing a secret, and he fucks me so hard and so thoroughly that I almost pass out from the force of my orgasm.
If it wasn’t for the pillow, the entire building would know King’s name.
It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up in someone else’s bed. Even longer since I’ve done so with a massive bicep draped over my chest and not freaked out about it.
King is still sleeping, and I try to slip out from under his arm to make some coffee, but he opens one eye and yanks me closer. “Where are you sneaking off to?”
“I need coffee.”
He snuggles into the pillow, contented little noises coming from his lips. “I’ll make you some coffee soon. Just five more minutes.”
“Or I can make my own coffee, and you can sleep for as long as you want,” I suggest.
He nuzzles my neck. “I don’t want five more minutes of sleep, Mase. I want five more minutes of this.”
Oh. Well, fuck. “Could you stop being so fucking adorable for one minute? This is a complete one-eighty from you, and to be honest, it’s making my head spin.”
He smirks, his eyes remaining closed. “No, I can’t.”
“Jeez,” I mutter, unable to stop the grin spreading across my own face. I stare at the hairline crack in the ceiling and listen to the sound of his breathing and my own heartbeat.
He shifts his position, and his morning wood rubs against my thigh. “So you think I’m adorable, huh?”
“Not adorable enough to go without coffee. I know it’s Saturday, but I still have to be at work in an hour, and I have to shower and change first.”
He hooks his leg over mine. “Oh, yeah. I heard you got a whole department working overtime this weekend for the big Fortnam deal. But you can shower and change at your office.”
“And walk past my secretary and my staff in yesterday’s clothes? Smelling of your cologne and hot sex?”
He opens his eyes. “Does hot sex smell different than regular sex?”
I roll on top of him and skim my nose along his throat. “Yeah, very fucking different.”
He groans, his hands running down my back to my ass. “But we showered last night after I fucked you.”
I hum my agreement. Fuck, he always smells so good. “I know, but now I’m gonna fuck you, Hotshot.”
His fingers twine in my hair. “While I would love that, we have no condoms left.”
“Motherfucker,” I growl, making him huff a laugh.
“It’s okay, baby. I can still make you smell like sex for work.” He grips both of our cocks in his huge hand. His palm glides along our shafts, and he collects our precum with his thumb and smears it over our skin. Using it as lube, he works us over together.
“Fuck, King.” I hiss out a breath, resting my mouth against the crook of his neck.
“You’re gonna smell like me all day. When that douche from HR makes up some bullshit excuse to be in your office, when that fuckboy barista smiles at you when he passes you your coffee. Any guy who gets anywhere near you and thinks he has a shot is gonna know you’re mine.”
Possessive asshole. Can’t deny that I love it though—not only that he bothered to learn so much about my workday but the way he says mine. It makes me feel … so many fucking things. Wanted. Needed. Safe. He always used to make me feel safe.
I rock my hips, grinding into his hand, fucking him the only way I can right now.
“Fucking hell,” he says. “You feel so fucking good doing that. You’re desperate to come, aren’t you?”
“As desperate as you.”
He grunts, working us both faster, his grip getting tighter. His free hand coasts down my back, and he slides a finger into my asshole. “Come with me, baby.”
“Jesus, fuck,” I murmur against his neck right before he tips us both over the edge. Warm ribbons of cum coat our stomachs and chests, and the deviant fucker rubs it into my skin like lotion.
I roll onto my side and stare at him. He has his eyes closed and a shit-eating grin on his face. Whatever this thing is between us, it can’t last. He’ll never admit to the world who he really is. But I can live with that. I just won’t let him break my heart this time.