Chapter 27 Mason
MASON
Every fabric of logic dictates I let her go. Save her from the truths that will cut open her world and break us for good.
That would be the sane thing to do.
The right thing to do.
Lucky for me, I’m not known for doing the right thing. No point ruining my long-standing reputation now.
The Bentley coasts to a stop at the edge of the winding road. I ease in behind it and wait for her to appear, but it’s the driver’s door that opens.
Jack Romney steps out, all suit and gloom. He fastens the buttons on his jacket, then stalks toward me, squaring his shoulders. Reflexively, I draw my gun, as casual as a shrug, and let it hang over the handle. A move that chokes his rhythm, confident strides faltering into caution.
“I don’t mean any harm.” He stops two paces short, holding up his hands, dramatically.
“Fool me once…” I smirk.
“Just doing my job,” he snorts. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“What do you want?” I ask, straight to the point.
“Putting that away will be job one.” He nods toward my weapon. “You don’t want to scare our girl.”
“My girl,” I warn, my look carrying the rest of the threat.
Jack gives me a wise man’s stare, eyes twitching, as he waits for me to secure my weapon.
I do.
If he pulls one on me, I can always just run him down.
“If this is going to work, we’ll need to figure out a way to communicate effectively.” Jack sighs with annoyance, sensing my mood.
“I’ll communicate right fucking now.” I grin. “Drop her off, get in your car, and drive the fuck back to London.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He places his hands in his pockets, widening his stance.
“The night she tricked me and slipped out could have gone very wrong for her. In the spirit of ensuring that never happens again, I’m willing to work together, if you are.
But compromising her security is not an option.
As big a deterrent as you may think you are, she’s not safe being seen with you…
” Then, he begins ranting about so-called protocols.
I have no fucks to give. He can babysit her when I can’t be around, but that’s the best he’s getting out of this.
Romney’s voice fades to nothing as the Bentley door swings open.
Eva steps out, wearing my jacket. Exactly how she left.
Though what she’s hiding beneath that leather now is likely not my name on her dress.
“That was not five minutes,” Jack huffs when she closes in, her handbag swinging from her elbow.
“It was actually,” she says with a smile.
“That’s your cue to leave,” I inform her guard.
He mutters something incoherent, then chooses his better judgment and turns around. I track Jack Romney as he gets in the car and drives away, before I let my gaze settle on her, drinking her in from head to toe as she walks up to me slowly.
My eyes trace her piece by piece: from her beautiful face, the blue of her eyes—which alone are my undoing—to her full breasts stretching her pale top, the curve of her waist, and her porcelain legs under the short ivory skirt.
Every inch of her that she begged me to claim, then let me own and devour.
That was a neat move. She caught me off guard.
I have never felt so close to losing it.
Never thought being inside a pussy could be more than a release.
But then again, nothing affects me the way she fucking does.
I’ll never understand the hold she has on me—only that it’s beyond reason and irreversible, like a blade bent too far to ever be straight again.
“What?” she asks, glancing down at her clothes.
“You’re late.” I seize her by the waist and yank her into my side. “That’s what.”
Her lips part to speak, but I seal them with mine. She kisses me back, raking her fingers through my hair, her arms pulling me in.
God, I thought she’d fight me. Push me back.
Burn me with that fire she uses to keep me at a distance.
Yet here she is, drawing me closer, unravelling against me, thread by thread, starving for me as much as I am for her, and trying to make up for the lost time I never should have fucking allowed.
My hands tighten around her, lifting her onto my lap. Her legs lock around my waist.
“You’re never leaving my sight again,” I breathe against her lips. “I won’t allow it.”
She moans and curls her tongue around mine, sucking it deeper into her mouth.
Every time I touch her, it’s like a grid sparks and fuses.
I thought fucking her would diminish some of this fucking madness, but it’s like getting a taste of your favorite drug and gaining a new addiction.
I release her lips when she’s out of breath, slowly pecking along the length of her jaw, and down her neck, savoring her delicious sandalwood scent.
Kane was wrong.
She looks the same, smells the same, feels exactly the same—mine.
My fingers trace her arm over the sleeve. She freezes when I reach her forearm. My teeth grit. She’d better keep the jacket on. If I see marks on her that I didn’t make, I don’t know what I’ll do. Though she probably took care of them, as she did mine. Burying them under heaps of makeup.
“What did Jack say?” she murmurs in an attempt to distract me. She’s getting good at that.
“I wasn’t listening.” I lift a shoulder.
She lets out a soft giggle, the sound slightly fading as she scans my face with judgmental eyes. I arch an eyebrow.
“Did you break Nick’s wrist?” she asks in a low voice.
“I wanted to take the whole arm off, but the little shit started crying.” I snort.
“Not funny.” She shakes her head.
“Pike thought it was.” I grin. “Why are you asking?”
“Because you are hurting people.”
“Hurt?” I scoff. “Another man touches you again, and I’ll fucking bury him.”
“Mason,” she gasps. “You can’t…”
“Watch me,” I bark, sharper than I meant.
“You are not in your perfect castle, princess. This is my Fort. And here, I take care of threats the way I see fit. No one messes with my family, and no one touches what’s mine and gets to walk away with their limbs intact.
Plain and simple. Can you deal with that? ”
She stares at me with a deep frown before her lips curl up on one side.
“Do I get a choice?” She shoots me a meaningful look.
I guess what I said to her brother hit hard. Good. I meant what I said.
“If I don’t, you don’t either, little dove.” I smirk.
“You don’t have a choice?” She giggles.
“When it comes to you,” I whisper, pulling her closer. “I have never had a fucking choice.”
“Why not?” she asks with an adorable pout, her brows knitting together. “You could have any girl you want.”
“I have the girl I want.”
“But why me? Is it because I’m an Etheridge?”
“It’s in spite of the fact you are an Etheridge.”
“Why go through the trouble?”
“Because you have changed my brain chemistry.” I kiss her neck. “Permanently.”
“So, I’m responsible for your madness?”
“You are my fucking madness, little dove.” I chuckle. “The good kind. The kind that keeps me from turning truly unhinged.”
Her pulse spikes under my lips, arms tightening around my biceps.
“You see now.” Pulling back, I grin at her. “Why I can never let you go? I need you to keep me sane.”
Her eyes shine, lips parting just enough to tempt, before she nods and kisses me. My hands wander over her legs, unapologetically lingering wherever they want, same as hers.
“Are you still sore?” I ask.
“No,” she lies and shakes her head.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I take her hands and place them on my belt.
Her eyes round, scanning my face, then the wide open fields and the deserted road.
I thought she’d blush and hide, like she usually does.
So, color me surprised when she starts working my belt, unzips my trousers.
Soft fingers wrap around my erection, which has been rising in my pants since I laid eyes on her.
“Sit on my cock,” I hiss, restraining my need to plow into her again. But that will hurt, and I don’t want to hurt her.
Her eyes search the road again before she wraps her arms around my neck, shoves her underwear aside, and climbs atop.
“Fuck,” she cries as she mounts my cock, her pussy dripping with want.
I don’t hold her, don’t make her move. Just let her have free reign over me, as she lowers herself with a wildness in her eyes that resembles mine.
“M-my God!” Her head falls back when her cunt swallows me whole. “You’re so big.”
“You’ll take me anyway, won’t you, little dove?”
She nods. Her fingers dig into the leather at my back, as she starts thrusting up and down, her lips quivering with a quiet, reckless hunger she’s trying so hard to contain.
“You’re not a virgin anymore,” I growl, threading my fingers through her hair. “Ride properly. Show me how much your pussy needs to take my cock.”
“Fuck,” she rasps, her face flushed, eyes glistening. Her grip tightens around my neck. Her slick cunt strangles me as she goes faster, riding me from crown to hilt, moaning and screaming my name.
I hold her tight, like she might slip away at any moment.
I could lose her so easily. A few words will do it.
Once she knows the secrets buried six feet under, she’ll never look at me again, let alone choose me.
My eyes bore into hers. I imagine never being able to see this shade of blue again.
Never feeling her heat again. Never hearing my name in her voice again. The mere thought turns me feral.
In that exact moment, I know I’ll burn the world to keep her.
“I’m never letting you go, princess,” I groan, holding her face in my hands as she chases her peak.
My own words sink into my chest. The weight of the lie I’ll have to carry settles on my ribs. A weight I’ll carry with a smile on my face. If that’s what it takes to keep her mine.
“Don’t fucking stop.” I strap the spare helmet on her head and turn the keys.
Her breath stutters, turquoise pupils blown wide, as the engine growls beneath us, vibrating through our bodies. I put my helmet on, my gaze sliding to the narrow road ahead where the hedgerows crowd in on both sides.
“Close your eyes, little dove,” I whisper and close her visor.
She lowers her head to my chest as my fingers twist the throttle, and I take off slowly with her in my lap, riding my cock.