Chapter Nineteen
S tay calm . I ring the doorbell as my heart threatens to beat straight through my chest.
Daphne didn’t tell me to run for the hills after the night at the fair, after getting her off on the roller coaster, and after politely taking her home without asking for as much as a kiss. Instead, she invited me over for a movie date.
As strong as my willpower has been, it’s getting harder and harder to hold myself back from showing her just how much she means to me. Every look, every touch—it’s driving me insane, and at some point, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back any longer.
The front door swings open, and my heart drops as I see three people inside.
It’s not just a movie date night with Daphne … it’s also with Maeve and Jackson.
Great .
“Wow, don’t look so happy to see me, Mase,” Maeve groans, taking the lidded pans from my hands. “What’d you bring us?”
I rip them back out of her hands. “Not for you, you gremlin. For Daphne, and if she feels inclined to share, then so be it.”
Her face twists with disgust. “Oh, it’s like that, huh? Just dirt beneath your shoe now.”
I chuckle, scanning the room for Daphne, seeing the back of her red hair on the sofa. Walking past Maeve, I stroll to the kitchen and set the two pans down on the counter.
Turning to Daphne, I find her already halfway to me with a shy smile on her face—where I forcefully keep my eyes glued so as to not let them wander down her body. But, fuck, even in my peripheral vision, she makes my dick twitch in my pants.
Tell me why she looks so goddamn good in little pajama shorts and a tank top. It’s like my weakness, although I think it has little to do with the clothing choice and all to do with her.
“What’d you bring?” She pads over and rests her hands against the countertop next to me.
“Only your favorites.” I wink, and her cheeks warm. “You said you hadn’t eaten yet so I made a quick chicken bacon Alfredo.” I unseal the lip, and I swear I can see her mouth watering as she takes it in. “And for dessert, I made scotcheroos.”
Her eyes widen like a kid on Christmas. “No, you didn’t. Oh my God, I haven’t had them in years either. No one ever makes them gluten-free.”
Patting the top of the pan, I proudly grin. “I did. Just for you.”
Her gaze melts, and she lifts her hand, placing it on top of mine. In that split second, the heat in her eyes transforms into something else entirely. Something indecent, scorching, and palpable.
“Thank you,” she whispers and bites down on her bottom lip, pressing her tits forward.
“You’re welcome.” Feeling confident and a little bold from her reaction, I lean down and place a soft kiss on her forehead. “Want me to dish you a bowl up? It’s still nice and hot.”
“Yes, please.” She beams with excitement. “Maeve! Do you want some Alfredo?”
Maeve shoots daggers at me through her stare as she trots over to us in the kitchen. “Is that okay with you, Sir Mason? To share with the peasant?”
“You’re so fucking dramatic. Just eat the damn pasta.”
Her pursed lips shift into a cocky smile. “I will.”
Jackson strolls into the room next, and I’m glad that I’m a planner, making sure there was enough for everybody if needed. “That smells amazing.”
“There’s enough to go around.” I reach up and open the cupboard, grabbing three bowls and setting them down next to the pan.
I fill each with a couple of scoops of the penne Alfredo, giving Maeve significantly less just to be a dick.
“Asshole,” she mutters when I hand it to her, taking the scoop from me and filling hers up more.
“Are you getting some?” Daphne asks me, and I shake my head.
“I ate some before I came. I didn’t want to take any from your portion. That’s for you to enjoy.”
She fights her smile as she walks into the living room, and I follow her in, carrying two waters for us.
I sit on one end of the sofa, Daphne next to me, Maeve on the other end, and Jackson in the recliner. Daphne sets a throw pillow in her lap to prop the bowl of pasta on, and Maeve starts the movie.
I knew before even coming here that it was going to be a movie off of their list. It’s not a coincidence that it’s a movie date and Friday night, when they usually watch one.
“Is it good?” I murmur into her ear.
Her head whips my way, her eyes unshielded. “It’s delicious, Mason. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” I stretch my arm out behind her, resting it on the couch. “What’s the movie selection tonight?”
She leans over closer to me as she says, “ Letters to Juliet .”
“Oh, a classic.” I playfully raise my other hand to my chest, as if in shock.
She bumps my shoulder with hers. “You’re dumb.”
Going back to her pasta, she takes a few more bites as the movie starts to play.
Maeve stands up and turns the light off, sinking us into darkness, the only light coming from the TV.
Daphne leans forward and sets her bowl on the coffee table, the back of her tank top riding up, and a very dirty image flashes in my mind. I wonder what my hand would look like, flattened against her back, pushing her to the bed while I’m buried inside her.
My dick twitches at the thought, and I do my best to force my attention to the movie.
Pretty skies. Shitty fiancé who doesn’t truly care about the main character’s interests. And a group of women who write letters. Got it.
An hour and ten minutes later, I’m completely invested in this damn flick, and I hate how badly I want her and the snarky blond guy to end up together.
Clearly, he’s just protecting his and his grandma’s hearts because he’s scared of them getting hurt. I can understand that more than I’d like to admit.
Feeling like I’m being watched, I turn to Daphne and find her staring at me with a look of awe in her dazzling blue eyes.
I mouth, What?
She smiles up at me. “It’s cute that you’re so into it, is all.”
“Cute, huh?” My eyebrows twitch, and I smirk. “Is that the only word you can think of?”
Her eyes darken, same as her cheeks, and her voice is barely audible as I lean in closer to her. “I can think of a few others.”
“Oh, really?”
She shrugs, her eyes flicking away from me for a second before returning with a deviousness in their depths.
Why the hell did my sister have to crash my date tonight?
Because if she wasn’t in Jackson’s lap in the recliner, I would ease Daphne down onto the sofa, leaning over her and teasing her lips with mine, coaxing each word from her.
Daphne stealthily scoots closer to me, sealing our legs together beneath the throw blanket she draped over us a bit ago. “What are you thinking?”
“Me?” I grin, dropping my arm from the top of the sofa to the top of her shoulders, brushing the skin of her arm with my thumb. “You don’t want to know.”
She swallows hard, her eyes falling to my chest as she leans in and tips her lips up, whispering, “And what if I do?”
My body lights on fire at the endless possibilities flashing through my mind from her response. “Trust me, Daphne”—I slip my hand down behind her, wrapping it around her hip—“I think the things I fantasize about doing to you would scare you away.”
“I think”—her fingers graze my thigh before sliding up and around it—“you should tell me anyway.”
Pressing my lips against her ear, I exhale. “I can’t. Because when I do, I don’t want anyone else in the room to see what I do to you afterward.”
Her gaze glosses over, as if she’s picturing it herself, and she stares straight ahead at the screen. Her body flushes a deep shade of red as her lips tip up in the corner.
When I dig my fingers into her hip, she jumps closer to me, and I quietly chuckle.
“Daphne, you have no idea the things I’ve dreamed of doing to you over the years. Endless. Countless. It would take an eternity to explore them all.”
She turns her head and looks at me like she wants to say something, so I lower my ear. “Then we’d better get started.”
Fucking hell, this girl.
My dick is nearly throbbing in my pants from just the thought of getting to come out to play. At the thought of getting touched by her.
Glancing away from her to find some strength, I see Maeve has passed out in Jackson’s lap and arms, him falling asleep right along with her.
Hmm, interesting .
I lift Daphne’s chin up, and when her eyes find mine, I whisper, “Be quiet.”
“What do you mean?” she whispers back.
But I don’t give her an answer. In one swift move, I stand up, lean down, and pick her up, flinging her over my shoulder.
She makes a small squeal but slaps her hand over her face. Maeve and Jackson don’t wake or stir.
Quietly, I walk around the sofa and recliner and head toward the staircase, ascending them with ease as I hold Daphne in place, resisting the urge to slide my hand between her legs right now or slap her ass.
Not until she’s fully mine, no hesitations or potential regret. Then I’ll feel comfortable touching her without asking, knowing undoubtedly that she wants it.
Turning into her room, I wrap one arm around her legs dangling over the front of my shoulder and shut the door with my other hand.
It’s dark in here, but not too dark that I can’t see her eyes fly open as I fling her over my shoulder and drop her onto her bed.
Her pupils are shot, lips parted, legs relaxed and open. I’d bet money that she’s wet right now, as turned on as I am.
Why don’t I find out?
Dropping to my knees in front of her, I crawl to the bed and prop myself up, my hands on her bare thighs, greedy to feel her soft skin.
Her breath quickens. “Are you going to tell me now?”
Wetting my bottom lip, I push her legs further apart, and she gasps.
“Can I show you instead?”
Nervously, she lifts her finger to her lips, biting down on the tip and nodding with a faint grin.
“Oh, come on, Sunset. That’s not very convincing.” I sit up and lean back. “If you don’t want me to, that’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
Her eyes darken, and she grabs my arm as I start to lean away, stopping me. “Oh, trust me, I want it, Mason.”
A mix between a growl and a groan leaves me at the sound of my name on her sweet, sweet lips.