Chapter 27
“Girl! Get your ass down here!”
My father’s voice rattles the walls in my small, half bathroom across the hall from my room. This bathroom and my bedroom are the only two spaces up here, both with slanted ceilings from the slope of the roof.
I drop my toothbrush into a cup and quickly rinse my mouth, making it downstairs as quickly as I’m able. My father is sitting at the table, lacing up his boots jerkily, probably because his hands are shaking. That’s been a common thing I’ve noticed after a night of heavy drinking. He has the shakes and is extra temperamental.
“I’m here. What did you ne—”
“Get your shoes on and get in the van. We’re goin’ to the big store on the other side of Ridges to stock up. I don’t wanna go in there, so I’m gonna drop you off at the front.” He doesn’t look at me as he delivers his plan, and I bite my lip, wondering how I can let Mason know I’ll be late heading over to work this morning. It’s barely six in the morning and I’m actually shocked my father is up this early.
Deciding I’ll just have to apologize when we get back, I nod once and hurry to obey my father. The first thing I notice is he doesn’t even wait to peel out of the drive before I have my seatbelt fastened, not like Jaxon. Every time I’ve ridden with him, he doesn’t even turn on the truck until I’m buckled in.
Gripping the armrest, I white knuckle the door as the tail end of our old van fishtails down the long drive. Without slowing down, he jerks the wheel hard to the right to turn onto the road. He’s always been an erratic driver, so I’ve learned to keep my inhales of air as quiet as possible. I’ve made that mistake too many times to count. He always thinks I’m judging him.
A loud horn blares just as a large pick-up truck whips around us in the other lane, only to cut us off, stopping sideways in the road directly in front of us.
“This motherfucker! Goddamnit fuckin’ piece of shit! I’m gonna beat his worthless ass!” my father screams, slamming his hands on the wheel a few times before yanking it to the right so we don’t T-bone the truck. He brakes hard until we’re stopped. A cloud of dust billows around the van, and as soon as it clears from the breeze, I watch as an irate Mason storms over to the driver’s side where my father is sitting and wrenches the door open, the hinges screeching from the force.
“What kind of crazy maniac are you?” he shouts, fisting my father’s shirt and yanking him from the seat. “You about ran me off the road, you asshole!”
Instead of apologizing the way he should because my father was absolutely in the wrong, his meaty fist swings up hard and connects with Mason’s cheek, just to the right of his eye, slamming his knuckles into the edge of his brow.
I wince, grunting in sympathy for Mason as his skin very obviously splits. He growls loudly before throwing my father to the ground. Straddling his body, Mason pulls him up by the grip he still has on his shirt and gets in his face, blood dripping onto his cheek.
“What is God’s name is wrong with you? I’m gonna sue your fuckin’ ass for assault, you bastard! Where the hell you get off thinkin’ you can drive like a madman, then cop an attitude with me like I’ve done somethin’ wrong?” He raises his arm to hit my father back, which honestly is deserved, but I fumble for the handle of my door and practically fall out before running to them.
“Wait! Stop!” I plead, dropping heavily to my knees next to them and place my hands on Mason’s arm. “Ma—Mr. Cooper. Please stop before this gets worse.”
I’m begging him with everything inside of me, praying he won’t lay into my father because it will be bad for all of us if this continues. Clayborn Hughes has a mean streak easily fueled by vengeance, and this feud will only get worse if this escalates.
Both men twist their heads slowly to glare at me, pissed at my audacity to interrupt their fight. My father doesn’t move, probably out of shock that I reacted like this, and Mason incredulous that I would think he’d actually listen to me. Whatever he reads on my face must be enough because he bellows loudly in my father’s face before shoving him so his back hits the ground. Then he walks away.
I’m not sure what I should do, but assuming my father will want me to help him stand, I shuffle back and reach for his arm, but he pushes me so hard I land on my ass, letting out a soft oomph as I hit the ground. Quickly, I glance at Mason, but he’s got his back to both of us, dabbing at his brow with a rag as he storms back to his truck.
“Fuck off, girl! I don’t need this shit and don’t think I’m gonna thank ya neither.” Standing on wobbly legs, he breathes heavily, and I’m hit with the sour smell of his breath. Closing my eyes, I realize he’s probably still half-drunk from last night. It would explain his erratic driving. Following him to the van, I pause before opening my door and peek over at Mason, who’s now inspecting his face in one of his side mirrors.
In the span of two breaths, my father turns over the engine and hits the gas, wheels squealing as he swings the vehicle around Mason’s truck, still idling sideways across the road. He hits the gravel along the side, kicking up pebbles. I turn my face to keep them from hitting me, and once they clear, I look back and see he’s already disappearing over the slight hill.
Guess I’m not going with him after all. I’m relieved because riding with him in this state would be terrifying.
Unsure what to do, I stay still, my head swinging back to my drive, then over to Mason, who isn’t paying me any mind while he cleans up his face. I owe it to him for giving into my request to not fight with my father, no matter how much he obviously wanted to get him back.
Bracing my shoulders, I stand up straighter and walk over to him. “Can I help you with that? I’m real sorry ab—”
“There’s a first aid kit behind the driver’s seat. I need it.”
Nodding while swallowing hard, I search out the kit, staying silent as he grumbles to himself. As I pull it out, Mason is dropping the tailgate of his truck and waves me over to him. Still not a word.
When I get to his side, I can see how tense he is, his chest heaving in fury and muscles rolling under his shirt as if he’s trying to restrain himself from losing it on me. He grabs me by the waist and hoists me up until my bottom hits the gate. I wince, still sore from a few days ago after being intimate with Griffin, but he doesn’t notice. Pushing my legs apart, he steps between them and brings his face an inch from mine.
“Since you were so adamant that I shouldn’t give your daddy the beatin’ he deserves, you can fix what he fucked up. Got a problem with that, girl?” Another drop of blood slips down his face and my chest aches that he’s bleeding because of us. Guilt slams into me, but I fight back the tears that want to spill out. He doesn’t deserve to see them when he’s the injured party here.
Dropping my chin, I look down and whisper, “No problem.” I bite my cheek to keep from apologizing again as I open the kit and fish through it for antibacterial wipes to clean his cut, some gauze, and a bandage.
He doesn’t move his body away, staying pressed against me, but he leans his head away slightly when I tear open the wipes and reach up to dab his skin. He doesn’t move, keeping his eyes locked on my face as I wipe away the blood under his cut, but as soon as I touch the damaged skin, his hand shoots up and nabs my wrist to stop me.
“That hurts,” he says through clenched teeth. Then, peeling his fingers away slowly, he drops his hand to my thigh and hisses. “Gentle.”
“S-Sorry,” I croak out, trying my best not to pay attention to the heat soaking into my skin from his hand. I dab the wipe as softly as I can, my stomach fluttering every time his skin jerks. I know the wipes sting, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The gash is still leaking blood, so once it’s disinfected, I quickly open some gauze and press it more firmly to stop the flow.
I know I need to keep pressure on it for at least five minutes to stop the bleeding, and Mason doesn’t seem as if he’s going to take over. Just as he said, I owe him this. His eyes haven’t wavered from my face this entire time and I begin to feel overwhelmed, unsure if I should stare back.
His breathing is heavy, adrenaline still coursing through him from the altercation, so I look away, unable to meet his eyes for that long.
Fingers wrap around the front of my throat, and he uses his thumb to press under my chin to turn my face back to his. I gulp hard, his hold tightening as my skin moves under his palm. My breath hitches, fingers trembling slightly as I continue to press the gauze to his split brow.
“I’m feelin’ a certain kind of way right now, Edith, daughter of Clayborn.” He says my name like a curse, and I flinch, wishing he’d just call me girl instead.
“H-How are you feeling?” Mason doesn’t free me of his hold, but he uses his free hand to push mine away from his face and leans forward again.
He spits out, “I’m feelin’ like I’ve got electricity rollin’ through my body right now. I’d have let it all out on your daddy, but someone”—his fingers tighten further, causing my breathing to stutter—“decided I wasn’t gonna get that release. So, now I’m findin’ I need a different way to expel it.”
His gaze falls to my heaving chest and a grin spreads across his face before he finds my eyes again. It’s not a friendly smile, but I find my heart beating harder with excitement. Fear mixed with wanting his touch hardens my nipples against the thin fabric of my bra.
“You gonna let me between your legs?” My chin is pushed higher, forcing my mouth to part on a gasp. His lips hover over mine as he whispers, “I’ll make you feel good, too. Doesn’t have to mean anythin’ if we don’t want it to. We can just keep it between the two of us.”
I dart my tongue out to wet my lips, my mind racing between my throbbing body and if this would be a terrible decision. Besides, I’ve only had sex one time, but oh, it felt so, so good, and I’m more than tempted.
“Okay.” I mouth the word, not a sound escaping as I give him my permission. Mason uses the hand on my throat to push me back so I’m laying down. The only thing I can see are the clouds slowly crawling across the sky as he starts working at my button and zipper to pull my pants off my legs.
This is so different than it was with Griffin. Where Griffin was aggressive, there was still give and take with him. Mason, it seems, wants to rush and get to it. I suppose it’s different with everyone and sometimes it’s fast, sometimes slow. I’m not sure if I like this fast, though. Maybe it’ll get better soon. Maybe he’ll kiss me.
Just as I think that, Mason starts tugging my pants down my legs and I lift my hips to help, then push my body up so I’m sitting. Leaning toward him, I move to kiss him, but he turns his head slightly so my lips only graze his cheek. He doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure if I should try again.
Reaching out, I cup his cheek. Our eyes meet briefly and there’s a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes, causing me to furrow my brows. I open my mouth to ask if he’s alright, but he yanks me off the tailgate, spinning me around to bend me over so my chest is pressed against the rough texture of the bed. My shirt is still on, and my pants are only just below my knees.
“Spread your legs for me,” he rasps out, his belt clanking as he frees himself. I do my best to widen my feet, but my pants only allow me to widen them so far. I hear him messing with foil, and his hands leave my body for a moment. A second later, a condom wrapper is dropped next to my face.
I try to stand up to look back at him, but his hand presses against the center of my spine to keep me still. I should be thankful he’s using a condom, especially since Griffin and I already risked no protection the other night. A pang hits my chest, remembering the way he told me we shouldn’t have done it. That my father would be furious with both of us, and it was wrong to disrespect him in his home.
My thoughts blank as Mason slams his length all the way inside of me, a cry of pain and pleasure erupting from my chest. I’m still sore and I wasn’t fully prepared for how thick Mason would feel inside of me. I didn’t even get to see him first, and I grapple for something to hold on to as he keeps one hand on my back, his other hand digging fingers into the flesh of my hip.
Clenching my eyes tight, I try to breathe as he pulls out and thrusts back inside of me, a deep ache spreading low in my belly. I just need a moment to catch my breath, so I can adjust to him pushing into me, but he drives himself in harder, leaning over my back and grunting with every movement.
“M-Mason… I need—”
“If you want to come with me, I’m going to need you to do it yourself. I’m fuckin’ so wound up, I’m not gonna last long.” He releases my back, allowing me to inhale sharply now that I’m pressed against his truck bed. Fingers wrap around my wrist, and he yanks both of our hands underneath my body as he pulls my hips back tighter against his body.
He sets my fingers just above my clit, pushing my wrist lower until the tips graze my swollen and over sensitized skin. I jolt from the touch. “There you go, girl. Play with your clit and hold on.”
Letting me go, his hand finds the other side of my hip, his fingers damp from my arousal as he slams into me mercilessly. With my mouth hanging open, I circle my finger, trying to keep up with him.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. I need you to hurry up and come, or I’m going to finish without you.” He’s panting hard, and I turn my cheek to glance at him through slitted eyes, my mouth hanging open on a silent cry.
I’m aware that we’re in the middle of the road and I say a silent thank you to whoever is listening that no cars have shown up, or that my father hasn’t decided to turn back home.
Mason’s hips push against me over and over, forcing my fingers to rub against my clit without me even trying, and I can feel a deep need building. I learned with Griffin what this feels like, so I’m prepared for the explosion as it rapidly overtakes my body and I scream into my arm that’s reaching above my head.
With my body jerking hard and forcing me onto my toes, Mason shouts as he rapid fires his thrusts, then holds himself deep and still as his length pulses inside of me.
“Fuck. Yes!” he barks out, pulling back and pushing into me again, shooting another wave of pleasure through me. Jerking once more against my body, he falls forward, bracing his arms around my shoulders, and breathes heavily against the back of my neck.
My body starts to shiver as I come down and I turn my head further toward him to see his face. He’s got his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades, his body still inside of me. I’m afraid to move, but I’m looking for any kind of affection from him right now.
Maybe now he’ll touch me, kiss me even, and tell me he enjoyed this. I think I did…
Finally, Mason lifts himself from me and slips from my body, both of us groaning when he’s free. I stay laying on the tailgate, afraid to move. Unable to move as he pulls the condom off and tosses it tied into the back of the truck. He’s pulling his pants back up and righting himself, so I take a deep, slow breath and stand.
“You need to get your pants on before someone shows up and drives past.” His voice is cold. Shame starts to swirl where there was only pleasure moments before.
Nodding, I reach down and tug my jeans up, wincing when the abrasive jeans press against my tender skin. There’s only my wetness left behind since he wore a condom, but I still feel like I could use a shower.
Keeping my head down, I silently plead with him to give me something, any type of reassurance right now, but he stays silent. Once we’re both put back together, he hesitates.
“You good?”
“Y—” My voice catches, and I clear my throat before trying again. “Yes… are, umm, are you?”
“I’m perfect.” He won’t meet my eyes as he backs away from me. “I need to get to town to grab some shit for my parents.” Checking his watch, he adds, “Work starts in half an hour. If you need a minute, you can show up a little late.”
That swirling shame deepens and starts rolling through me until it settles in my chest. “I’ll be there. I won’t be late.”
“Good.” Finally, he meets my eyes, but I can’t read him. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Then Mason lifts his chin toward my drive. “Best get home and cleaned up first.”
I don’t know what to say. All of my words are buried deep, so I nod again and spin around, ignoring the pulsing throb between my legs as I jog toward my house. I’m tempted to stop and run back to him, but the engine of his truck starts up and I hear him drive away from me.
Blinking rapidly, I bury everything I’m feeling as deep as I can and race to the house until I’m standing under my shower where I let it all free.