Chapter 18
Lila
My heart was still racing from our encounter with the paparazzi when Mason led me into his condo.
I tried to keep my breathing steady, but my nerves were shot.
Lights twinkled beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but I barely registered the view.
All I could think about were the cameras, the flashes, the shouted questions.
“Can I get you a drink?” Mason’s deep voice pulled me back.
I nodded, maybe too fast. “Wine would be great, thanks.”
While he headed toward the kitchen, I sank onto his plush sofa and willed my hands to stop shaking.
What if someone had gotten a clear shot of us together?
Those vultures had even asked for my name.
The last thing I needed was to end up on a gossip site, my carefully crafted anonymity ripped to shreds.
Mason returned, handing me a glass of Cabernet. “Here you go.”
I took a sip. Then another. The warmth didn’t erase the panic, but it took the sharp edge off. Too bad my trembling hands didn’t get the memo.
“You okay?” Mason asked.
His gaze held mine, all concern and quiet intensity. Ugh. Why did he have to be so perceptive?
“Of course,” I said, aiming for breezy but landing on brittle.
I swallowed a gulp of wine that was too big to be casual.
The memory hit like a spotlight I hadn’t asked for. The harsh glare of stage lights. My voice soaring into a showstopper. Then chaos. A tiny, furious blur of fur lifting its leg right during my crescendo. My spectacular tumble. The banana-printed spanx.
“Lila.”
Mason was suddenly close, his thumb brushing the base of my throat where my pulse fluttered. “Relax. You’re safe here.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, finishing my wine in one long gulp.
Mason watched me, his face unreadable, and I noticed he wasn’t drinking.
“Not joining me?” I asked, gesturing with my glass.
He shook his head. “I try not to drink during the season.”
Of course he didn’t. Responsible. Grounded. Meanwhile, I was one camera flash away from sprinting into the ocean. I set my glass down, suddenly self-conscious about how fast I’d drained it.
“About those paparazzi—”
“Um,” I cut in quickly, gesturing to the updated decor. “I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s a vast improvement from the Moose Lodge.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him. “Well, I hired a professional.” His gaze flicked over me. “She has impeccable taste.”
I couldn’t help the pleased little lift in my chest. “I’m glad you like it. Although…” I bit my lip to hide my grin. “We never did get around to redecorating that, ah, unique bedroom of yours.”
That got his attention.
His expression shifted, eyes darkening as something sharp and amused moved through them. “You know,” he said, voice dropping, “it’s growing on me. Especially after finding you sprawled out on my bed that day…”
Heat raced up my neck. Oh God. The memory detonated. Me stretched across black satin sheets, watching myself in the mirror overhead as my fingers slid into my panties.
“That never happened,” I whispered. No amount of wine could save me now.
His voice dipped lower, amusement fading as something darker threaded through it. “Keep telling yourself that, Lila.”
I groaned, because the memory still did things to me. “I thought we agreed to forget that ever happened?”
“Did we?” His fingertips skimmed my forearm. “Because that image is burned into my brain. I couldn’t forget it if I tried.” The pause stretched, steady and sure. “And I don’t want to.”
My brain short-circuited. Dangerous, tingly awareness crawled under my skin.
His fingers brushed along my jaw, tipping my face toward his. “Pink looks good on you.”
But I wasn’t wearing—
I sucked in a breath. He meant my panties. From that day.
“Uh…” I blanked. Brilliant. The man had me unraveling with a single look. One stupid, devastatingly sexy touch.
Mason’s eyes held mine, dark and focused, like he’d made a decision.
“Lila,” he murmured, rough enough to make my thighs clench. His fingers traced my lower lip. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
My body thrummed with anticipation. My lips parted, but nothing came out. The silence between us grew thick, loaded, inevitable.
Something shifted in Mason’s expression, the last of his restraint snapping. He leaned in with hungry certainty, like he was done waiting.
Then his lips met mine.
Soft at first, careful. A brush of heat. But then hunger edged in, turning the kiss into something that made my breath stutter. His hands slid to my waist, gripping me, pulling me flush against his hard body, and I melted into him.
I tangled my fingers in his hair as the kiss turned greedy.
His stubble scraped my skin, and I made a small, humiliating sound that he swallowed like he liked it.
His palms skimmed up my sides, brushing the outer curves of my breasts, lighting me up in their wake.
My nipples tightened, straining against the lacy confines of my bra.
I leaned into him, shameless, silently pleading for more.
Mason growled low in his throat, a sound so raw and primal it sent a jolt of pleasure racing down my spine to settle between my thighs.
He kissed me like a man possessed, hungry and demanding, and I gave myself over to it completely.
The press of his body against mine. The slide of his tongue.
The taste of him, dark and addictive. It wasn’t a kiss anymore. It was a claim.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, lips tingling, whole body buzzing. No one had ever kissed me like that. Like he’d die if he stopped. Like he wanted to devour me.
I licked my lips, tasting him there, and shivered. “Mason, I want…”
He brushed his mouth over mine again. “Tell me.”
I swallowed. “I want… to see your bedroom again.”
His eyes darkened, but his touch stayed gentle as he tucked a strand of hair away from my face. “You’re sure? We don’t have to rush anything.”
For a second, the logical part of me tried to slow things down. But the ache between my thighs and the hunger in Mason’s eyes silenced any doubts.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m sure.”
His grin turned wicked. Then, without warning, he scooped me into his arms. I gasped, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as I clung to the hard lines of his body.
He carried me across the condo and nudged the bedroom door open with his foot. The space glowed with soft, red LED lights that made the walls breathe like the inside of some wicked dream. A den of sin.
Mason set me down just inside the doorway, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him.
“Last chance,” he murmured, his knuckles grazing my cheek. “Say the word and we stop.”
I didn’t say a word.
He took that as permission, not wasting a second.
He caught my chin, tipped my face up, and kissed me hard, pinning me to the door with the solid weight of his body.
I moaned into his mouth, fingers locked around his shoulders, sure my knees would’ve given out if he wasn’t holding me there.
He kissed like he meant it, like he had all the time in the world and none of the patience.
His hands moved over me, firm and sure, claiming me with intent. I curved into his touch, chasing more.
Then I felt the careful tug of my zipper.
He slid it down with aching deliberation, the sound loud in the quiet. My dress slipped from my shoulders, and his mouth followed. He kissed at my throat, my collarbone, and I came apart a little more with each press.
I was already burning, and he hadn’t even really started.
“God, Lila,” he breathed against my lips, voice rough. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw you.”
Desire surged, molten and insistent, as he eased the dress down my body. I stepped out of it, left in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties. Mason’s gaze dropped, his throat working as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.
“Christ,” he rasped, tracing a lazy line along the lace at my hip. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He guided me back until my legs met the bed, and then he kissed my neck like he was savoring it. Deliberate. Unhurried. Like he wanted me desperate, and he knew exactly how to make it happen.
My gaze slid to the headboard, to where I knew the restraints were tucked away. My heartbeat kicked. Was Mason going to…?
“Eyes on me, Lila.”
The command snapped through me, lighting heat low in my belly.
I drew in a breath as he started unfastening his cuffs, his attention locked on mine.
He stripped off his shirt, and the sight of him stole my words for a second.
The span of his chest, the hard flex of his arms, and the sharp V of his hips made my mouth go dry.
I reached out, palms skimming his chest and abs, then lower. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pushing them down his hips with his briefs. He was hard, heavy, and already straining.
My hands slid over his hips and thighs, feeling the tension coiled under his skin. When I lowered my mouth to his chest, he hissed through his teeth, his body taut beneath my lips. I kissed along his pecs, over each ridge of his abs, trailing lower, tasting him as I went.
His fingers threaded into my hair, guiding me, steady and sure.
I followed.
My mouth traced the deep V at his hips, my tongue teasing the line there before I took him in, slow at first, then deeper.
A groan vibrated through him. I loved every sound, every sharp pull of his breath, the way his body went taut under my hands.
His grip tightened in my hair, his hips straining as the tension wound tighter, hotter.
With a rough groan, he pulled me back. “You’re going to kill me.”
He lifted me like I weighed nothing and set me on the edge of the bed.
His thumb brushed my jaw, gentler now. “Lay back.”
I leaned back on my elbows, catching myself in the mirror above. The black satin sheets felt cool against my overheated skin.
His fingers hooked into my panties. “Lift.”