Chapter 8
T HE SOUND OF POUNDING on her front door jolted Taylor out of a deep slumber. In a flash, she was sitting up in bed, her heart racing. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and her eyes landed on the clock on her nightstand.
Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she stood, forgetting for a moment that she had on only her skimpy camisole and shorts. She hurried to her bedroom door, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she remembered Mason was out there sleeping on her sofa.
Mason, who had the body of a Greek God. Who probably rolled out of bed looking perfect.
She felt like a rumpled mess, but the pounding on her front door continued.
Mason flicked on a light, meeting her gaze, and then he was crossing her living room. Taking a quick glance out through her peephole before cracking the door.
“Don’t come here again,” he said in cool voice.
“Who the fuck are you?” Eric’s voice came from the other side of the door. He said something else, slurring his words, and Taylor realized he was still drunk.
“None of your damn business. If I see you around here again, the police will be the least of your concerns.”
“Let me inside. Where’s Taylor?”
“Eric!” another male voice shouted from outside. “What the hell are you doing here? Give me my damn keys!”
Taylor heard a scuffle, and then Mason stepped further into the doorway, bodily blocking her view. She hurried over to the door, hesitating.
If she went out there, it would only make things worse. Eric would see her and lose his mind.
As it were, Mason clearly didn’t want her outside. His large body was blocking her way.
“Are you the guy who has Taylor’s car?” Mason asked, irritated. “We’ll be picking it up tomorrow.”
Jake’s voice carried into her apartment through open door.
“Sorry man,” Jake said smugly. “It’s not ready. And we’re not even open on Sundays.”
“How the hell can it not be ready? You’ve had it for over a week. After what you charged Taylor for a tow last month, I assume the repairs are free of charge.”
“We just need to order a part.”
“Order it,” Mason demanded. “I’ll expect an update on Monday morning as to when we can pick it up.”
“Who is that guy?” Eric slurred.
“Nobody. Let’s go,” Jake said. “I’ve got enough problems without chasing you over here twice in one goddamn night.”
“Monday,” Mason repeated, closing the door before either of them could respond.
Taylor let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
She stepped back, watching as Mason turned the deadbolt.
For someone that had been sound asleep like her, he sure the heck looked wide-eyed and alert.
The fact that he was fully dressed while she had on her sleep shorts and camisole might have had something to do with it.
He turned to face her, his eyes heating as he glanced down at her lavender pajamas.
Although she was fully covered, she suddenly felt naked under his observant gaze. She felt feminine and small next to him. Fragile. He was all muscle, brawn, and bravado, and she couldn’t even get her ex-boyfriend to leave her alone.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his blue eyes locking with hers.
“Fine.”
“You’re shaking,” he said softly, taking a step closer.
Heat licked through her as her gaze slid over his broad shoulders, trailing down his muscled chest. She could only imagine the washboard abs beneath his tee shirt, but oh, wouldn’t that be a sight to see.
“I just—it caught me off guard. What if you hadn’t been here? He was pounding on my door, demanding to come inside....”
Much to her utter embarrassment, tears sprang to her eyes.
“Taylor, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer and gathering her to him. She let out a muffled sob and collapsed into his embrace, the weight of his muscular arms wrapping around her.
He was solid and safe. Warm.
It felt as if nothing bad could ever happen to her when Mason was here.
The heat of his hands seared into the bare flesh of her back, his rough fingertips dragging over her skin where the skimpy straps of her camisole lay.
She was next-to-naked, vulnerable, and had never felt so safe.
He pulled her even closer, and she inhaled his scent of soap and spice. He was pure male—so masculine it almost hurt. The opposite of her in every way.
And he’d rushed over tonight for her.
But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Mason couldn’t always be here.
They weren’t even together for goodness sakes.
He’d come for her tonight, yes, but wouldn’t always be around.
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and then suddenly Mason was lifting her into his arms. Carrying her into her bedroom.
He cradled her close, like she was something fragile to be taken care of and cherished.
“Shh, sweetheart. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
He padded across her room in the darkness, only the glow from her clock on the nightstand and light from the living room showing him the way.
It felt intimate to have him hold her this way.
To have Mason here in her bedroom.
His strength and warmth surrounded her, and she inhaled his scent.
He lay her down on the bed, and she refused to let go, pulling him right down beside her, enjoying the feeling of his body beside hers.
She continued to cry quietly into his chest as he held her, his muscular arms tightening, and finally her tears began to slow.
“Shh,” he said again, his hand stroking over her hair.
She hugged him even tighter. “Stay with me,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’ll hold you all night.”
***
T AYLOR MUMBLED AS SHE began to wake, her body wrapped around something warm and solid. She nestled closer, hovering at that delicious moment between sleep and wakefulness, her entire body relaxed.
She felt safe in her little cocoon, content.
She wanted to hold onto this feeling of lightness. Of slumber. Of being safe and warm where nothing bad could ever happen to her.
She shifted slightly as her sex throbbed, and with a gasp, she realized her leg was over Mason’s muscular thigh, her arms wrapped around him, her head on his chest. He was just beginning to stir himself, still wearing his tee shirt and shorts from the night before, but there was no mistaking the bulge in his shorts.
Inches away from her leg.
She moved again, her silken legs skimming over his muscular ones. The springy hair on his legs tickled her skin, and there was something erotic about awaking this way, her body against his, their legs intertwined. Mason’s arms still wrapped around her.
He’d held her as she fell asleep last night, but somehow she’d nestled even closer to him throughout the night.
Curled her entire body around his so that she was clinging to him.
His arms shifted as he began to wake up, his fingers lazily trailing over her bare skin.
The drag of his hands over her silken camisole and skin felt good.
Too good.
For a man she still hadn’t even been out on a date with, he was holding her in his arms like they were meant to be together.
“Hell, this feels good,” he mumbled. “I like waking up with you in my arms.”
“Me too,” she said, flushing.
She could hear his heartbeat thumping beneath his chest, the soft cotton of his tee shirt pressed against her cheek. Mason’s hands continued moving, caressing her gently. Her camisole rode up slightly, and then his hands were on her bare skin, his thumb just edging beneath the bottom of her top.
A fresh wave of heat rushed though her at his touch. Her heart thumped in her chest as she imagined him pulling her on top of him, thrusting inside her, their bodies naked and intertwined.
Neither of them said anything for a beat, and then she finally lifted herself up to meet his gaze. His eyes dropped to her cleavage, perfectly on display for him in her delicate camisole. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a low voice. “Gorgeous.”
Her sharp intake of breath was her only response, and then Mason was slowly lifting her up until she was straddling him.
His erection nudged against her swollen sex, her legs spread over his hips.
Even though she was atop him she felt frozen in place.
Unable to move away from the feeling of his thick length running along her core.
He captured the back of her neck with one large hand, and then he was guiding her toward him for a kiss.
Despite the fact that he was stretched out on her bed and she was literally sitting on top of him, Mason remained in complete and utter control.
Commanding the situation even with her above him.
Her heart fluttered as he moved closer, and then at last her lips met his.
His kiss was soft and gentle, but one of his hands moved back to her hip, gripping her in place. Holding her exactly where she wanted to be.
Even through his shorts, she could feel him. Was intimately aware of how big he was. Arousal dampened her folds, and she blushed, realizing how wet she’d become. Her chest heaved as he kissed her again, deeper, and she bucked lightly against him.
Taking her lead, he nudged his cock against her as she gasped.
Trembling, she sat up, slowly lifting her camisole up and over her head. Baring herself to him.
“Taylor, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice gravel.
“Throwing caution to the wind.”
His hands rose to her breasts, kneading and caressing.
His thumbs skated across her nipples, causing her to whimper in pleasure.
And then he was pushing himself up. Sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.
She gasped as pure pleasure shot straight through her.
His tongue flickered over her nipple, hot, wet, and perfect as he teased and tormented her.
Pleasure shot straight to her clit, and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts even closer to him.
Feeling like she might spontaneously combust right there and then.
Mason laved his tongue over her, kissing his way around her areola.
And then before she even knew what was happening, he was rolling them both over. Hovering above her.