40. Mason #3
My hand moves to her throat, needing to ground myself in her, needing more pressure.
Her hands roam over my stomach until they reach my shorts.
It seems like she thinks about it for half a second before deciding to let herself go for what she wants.
Her hand slowly moves inside my waistband, making me have to stop her.
I grab her hand and have to close my eyes for a second to ease the need.
I swallow down my nerves and try to act like this is no big deal. “Are…are you sure?”
She grabs my face and lifts it to make me look at her. She searches my eyes, then nods.
“I want this,” she says. “I want you. I trust you.”
I exhale, shaking my head, knowing this girl is going to completely ruin me. She’s not even mine, and she already has all this power over me.
I haven’t been with anyone in almost three years. Not since Jackie. Not since my last heartbreak, or what I thought was a heartbreak, but was really just a shot to my pride, ego, and trust.
My mind is whirling as she snaps my attention back to her with another kiss, then breaks it again. “I know you don’t do relationships. And I’m not asking for that. I just…want you…right now.”
The words land harder than I know she intended.
It hurts. It does. Because I want more. Because I already feel more.
But she doesn’t. And as much as that should be what makes me stop, that should be what makes me smart enough to see the train wreck bound to happen, I’m too selfish not to want her in this moment, however she’ll give herself to me.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, steadying my voice and my emotions. “It doesn’t have to be more than this. But just—promise me we’ll be the same after, okay? I—fuck, I can’t lose you.”
She smiles, brushing her thumb along my jaw. “You’ll never lose me.”
That’s all it takes. I kiss her again, slower this time, deeper as I guide her back toward the bed, hands way steadier than I feel having her like this.
I take my time, like I want to memorize this, like I want to make sure every touch tells her she’s mine in this moment, even if I can’t keep her once we walk out of this room.
“Let me take care of you,” I whisper against her neck. “Let me be the last touch you remember, not his.”
I feel the goosebumps forming on her skin as she nods, turning her head to give me more access.
I trail my mouth along her jaw, her neck, everywhere that makes her tilt toward me without realizing she’s doing it.
Every reaction tells me what she likes. Every gasp and moan she makes is a map on how to please her that I desperately want to learn.
She’s responsive in a way that tells me how starved she is.
She’s putty in my hand like I am in hers, and I’d do anything to keep it that way when we’re together.
I pull back just enough to look at her, make sure she sees me watching her. Not her body—her, her face, the way her lips part like she’s already begging before the words can come out.
“Look at me,” I say softly.
She does.
“There you go,” I whisper. “That’s it.”
I move my hands slowly, and with so much intention over her body.
I don’t touch where she keeps urging me to right away.
I trace around it. I let the heat build instead of snatching it.
I want her aware of every second and every sensation she’s feeling right now.
She gasps quietly, and I feel her shaking slightly under me.
Watching her respond to me makes me feel completely gone in this moment.
She’s the match thrown on my gasoline. And I’m ready to burn for her.
“Relax for me,” I whisper.
Her fingers clutch at my shirt, like she can’t handle it, and I press my forehead to hers again, keeping my voice low and controlled as I guide her.
Everything feels right when I’m with her. Like the outside world doesn’t exist. No problems exist—no voices in my head, no crawl of my skin, no ache in my chest. She makes it all go away with the way her body quiets mine.
I couldn’t have dreamed up a better first time sharing this part of myself with her. I don’t want to ever have to share it with anyone else.
When we’re both too spent to even move, she slumps on top of me, breathless and stunned, like she doesn’t quite recognize herself right now, or what we just did.
I brush my thumb along her arm, slow and gentle, trying to come down from the high.
“I’ve…” She stops, trying to catch her breath. “I’ve never…felt that before.”
I look at her, confused. “You mean you’ve never gotten off before?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
I chuckle. “You would know.”
She swallows, embarrassed, and I can’t help how cute I think it is. “Then…no.”
A cocky grin spreads on my face. “Happy to be at your service, Edwards. Any time you want.”
She looks up at me, curled under my arm. “I know this isn’t…that, isn’t more than this. But…”
I want her to say, but I want it to be.
But she doesn’t.
“I…I don’t want to be one of many.”
I see the way she shrinks a little, saying that, and I hate it. I grab her chin and lift it back up. “You’re not.”
“I’m not judging you, Mason. I get it. I do. I get we’re in college, and there are a lot of options out there. But…I like this. I…I kind of wouldn’t mind…more of it.”
I fight back my smile. “I wouldn’t either.”
“But…I don’t think I would feel comfortable being just another girl in your rotation.”
Why can’t I just spit it out that that’s the farthest thing from reality?
I don’t know why the words don’t come, why I have shame and the fear of expectations wrapped around them.
Instead, I choke down the truth and play it safe. “Exclusively friends…with benefits?”
A cautious smile appears on her face. “Yeah.” She pauses, taking it all in. “Is this crazy? Are we crazy? They say stuff like this never ends pretty.”
My fingers move to stroke the side of her rib cage. “We won’t let it.”
Even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. A lie I’ve already been telling for a long time now.