Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Rory
Dinnertime comes around quickly, surprisingly. For some reason I expected the day to drag on. But after Mascen and I left the treehouse I took a nap and after I woke up I worked on a paper that’s due a few days after break ends. By the time I did that it was time to eat.
Seated by Mascen I’m surrounded by his scent. The intoxicating notes of citrus and woods fills my lungs every time I breathe. At the end of the table is his dad, at the other his mom, with his sisters and Dean seated across from us.
Mascen piles a cut of lasagna onto my plate first before putting another on his.
“Thank you,” I whisper under my breath. This might be Mascen but I’m still going to use my manners … sometimes at least.
He then passes me a piece of bread and takes one for himself after.
In the presence of his parents he’s on his best behavior.
“So, you’re studying at Aldridge with Mascen?” His dad, Maddox, asks me. “What are the odds?”
I shrug, lifting my hands. “That’s what we all keep saying.”
“How have you been all these years?”
“Um … good.”
God, this is more awkward than I feared. Things went too smooth with his mom and sisters, of course there had to be some sort of speed bump.
Maddox chuckles, running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. I know he must be in his late forties, but he’s still insanely handsome. Smile lines decorate the corners of his eyes and mouth. There’s a sparkle in his gray eyes, the same shade as his son’s, that tells me that there’s a mischievous side to him. He’s different from Emma, who’s soft spoken and motherly. He’s clearly a troublemaker. But when he smiles at his wife the love in his eyes is undeniable. Even after all these years he’s clearly still head over heels. He loves his children too. The first thing he did after he greeted Emma when he got home was kiss all three on top of the head and talk about how happy he was to have all three children under the same roof tonight.
Parents aren’t perfect, it’s impossible, and I know Mascen’s feelings toward his father have to be justified in some ways, but his dad clearly cares. It’s too bad it hasn’t been in the way his son needs.
“Just good?”
I spear my fork into the lasagna but wait to lift the bite to my mouth. “I mean, you know how things went down. It wasn’t exactly easy, but we made do.”
I don’t want to go into detail about my past with him—with anyone . I’d rather forget and move on.
He narrows his eyes and I think he senses there’s more to the story. I hate being secretive. Especially when him and his wife are opening his home to me for the break, but there are some things I just won’t talk about.
“You’re a freshman this year?” I exhale in relief that he’s moving on to another topic.
“I am.”
I’m an exceptional conversationalist.
“What are you studying?”
Mascen lets out a massive sigh beside me, slamming his palms on the table. Glasses clang and I freeze as everyone’s eyes go to him. “What the hell, Dad? You don’t need to ask her so many fucking questions.”
Silence fills the room. I want to fill it in some way, but I don’t know what to do or say.
“I was just getting to know Rory again, I’m sorry that bothers you.” Maddox’s voice is calm, but there’s something in his eyes, like he’s hurt but also pissed.
“That’s not getting to know her, Dad. That’s an interrogation.”
Maddox’s brows furrow and he turns his eyes to me. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was interrogating you. That wasn’t what I meant to do at all. But a lot happens in ten years and?—”
I hold up a hand to silence him. “It’s okay, I get it. I’m not very good at talking about myself and things weren’t the best when we left here.”
“You’re attending Aldridge so it couldn’t be so bad, right?” His sister Lylah asks innocently. “You guys still had money and did all right?”
I shake my head. “I’m actually there on a scholarship.”
Lylah’s eyes widen and her cheeks flood with color. “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to go there and I worked hard for a full-ride. I’m not ashamed of it.”
And I’m not. Despite the setbacks I faced I worked my ass off to make it happen.
The rest of dinner is a tad awkward but it could be worse. Mascen remains tense at my side only giving people one-word answers when he’s addressed directly. After dinner he immediately disappears to his attic room while I help his mom clean up and load the dishwasher.
Finally, I can head upstairs to shower and go to bed.
I glide my fingers along the shiny mahogany bannister. Despite the less than stellar way dinner went, I don’t find myself wanting to run out the door and return to campus.
In the guestroom I grab my toiletries bag and pajamas to change into. I didn’t feel tired before but suddenly I’m exhausted from the stressful day. I know these people aren’t strangers to me, once upon a time they were a big part of my life, but things have changed so much that I felt like I had to be on my best behavior.
Across the hall I close and lock the bathroom door. Spreading the things I’ll need on the counter I turn on the water and strip off my clothes.
The hot water cascades over me, loosening my tight shoulder muscles. Grabbing my shampoo, I lather the soap onto my scalp, humming to fill the quiet. I could stay there all night, but after cleaning my hair and scrubbing my body I force myself to get out and dry off. Tugging on my shorts and a t-shirt, I wrap my hair in a towel, before brushing my teeth and applying my nighttime moisturizer. If I don’t I’ll wake up with skin as dry as the desert.
Spitting in the sink, I rinse out the white foam making sure not to leave a trace behind. I don’t want to make myself a nuisance in any way. Letting my hair down from the towel, I gently run the brush through the strands so I don’t pull it. I’m taking longer than normal in my nightly routine, stalling for God knows why. Securing my damp hair with an elastic in a low bun I pack up my stuff and open the door. Immediately I’m shoved back inside. In my surprise I nearly fall to the floor on my ass.
Mascen somehow manages to keep me from falling while simultaneously closing the door silently and locking it behind him.
“M-Mascen,” I stutter, looking up at him with wide surprised eyes. “What are you doing?” My back thumps into the wall beside me, his right hand clasping the side of my jaw, fingers splaying down my neck. Satisfaction plays on his lips when he finds the unsteady pulse of my heart.
His gray eyes darken to a color like thunderclouds rolling in on a summer sky and his grip on my face tightens when his hand flexes. “I don’t know.” Something ripples across his face, like he’s surprised by his own honesty, but I don’t have time to analyze it before his lips crash to mine.
I’m taken by surprise, but my body immediately surrenders to the call of his. I arch into him, my fingers delving into his hair. It’s ridiculous how easily my body gives over to him. We might banter like we want to kill each other, and sometimes I do imagine my hands around his neck, but there’s no denying the chemistry between us.
He bunches the fabric of my thin cotton tee in his fingers. It pulls taught against my chest and I know if he looks down he’ll clearly see the outline of my nipples and areola. I’m sure he can already feel the hard nubs pushing against him, begging for attention. It’s scary how quickly my body reacts to him.
He tugs on my hands and I fight against him. I feel his grin against my lips as we kiss. “I love it when you fight me.”
Finally, he overpowers me and pins my hands above my head, using his hips to anchor me against the wall. His erection rubs against my pussy, barely covered by my shorts. The sensitive nub pulses begging for more friction.
His mouth is rough against mine. Demanding. Brash. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about it. He’s staking claim to me.
Holy shit.
I roll my hips down on him, the friction making me breathe harder. I’m so wound up it won’t take me long to orgasm.
“Let me touch you.” I hate myself for begging, but I need to touch him. I want to delve my fingers in his hair, hold him to me so he can’t leave.
“No,” he growls, biting my throat.
I squeak in surprise. There will be evidence left behind in the morning, I know it. He must know it too, because he chuckles and swipes his tongue along the spot like he’s soothing it.
He returns to my lips, nibbling on them like they’re the most delectable fruit he’s ever tasted. His tongue searches for mine and I give in easily. He’s a masterful kisser and I try not to think about how much practice he’s had. It’s not like I’ve been a saint.
“You drive me crazy.” He continues to hold my hands in one of his, lowering the other to grip my neck so he can tip my head up. He bites a spot before kissing it, repeating that down my throat. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Mascen,” I pant his name, a shudder lurching through my body. My eyes roll to the back of my head, the pleasure taking over. “Oh, God. I’m coming.”
He releases my hands and grips my hips as I ride it out. The orgasm goes and goes, my body shaking as I come down from the high. If I orgasmed like that with a makeout session I can’t imagine what would happen if we had sex. I might die from ecstasy.
Blinking my eyes open I find Mascen watching me with parted lips, eyes dilated. He licks his lips, dropping his gaze down. I wonder if he can feel the wet spot on my shorts. I’m drenched. He doesn’t say anything and I lower my feet to the ground. He keeps holding my hips, which is probably a good thing because I’m not sure I could stand upright on my own.
After a moment, he releases me and steps back, bowing his head so his eyes are on the bathroom tiles. “Get out.”
“W-What?”
He points to the door, still looking at the floor. “Door. You. Outside of it.”
“Mascen, I don’t get?—”
“Out.”
I don’t think Mascen would ever physically hurt me, but at his icy tone my stomach plummets with fear.
I slip out of it and run straight across to the guestroom. I close the door and lean my back against it.
Mascen has to be the most confusing motherfucker to ever walk the planet. He’s hot one minute, cold the next, and I never know what to expect. It’s exhausting but I’m not sure I can quit this. Whatever this is.
Across the hall the shower starts up.