Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DAKOTA
Mason was visibly unhappy when he picked me up after my shift at the gas station, and I was instantly uneasy getting into his car. It reminded me so sharply of the time when he’d pinned my hand to the door that I almost wanted to get right back out of the car.
Not only was he upset, he was distracted. That was the bad part of the combination.
When he was upset and fighting with me, at least I felt like there were things I could do to calm him down, or turn the conversation. There was the assurance that everything would be okay at the end. It was us.
But when he was upset because of something other than me…I couldn’t change anything. I couldn’t fix anything.
All I could do was endure the nightmare.
I’d learned that.
“Mason?” I questioned, looking over at him while he drove. He twisted his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“Does it look like I want to talk?”
“No. It also doesn’t look like you even want me here, so I’m not sure why you’re driving us back to your apartment right now,” I said while I stared out the window.
The sun was sinking below the horizon, indigo claiming the world.
Windows and streetlights were a blur of yellow luminescence as we sped down the road.
“Of course I want you here.” Mason reached over and put his hand on my thigh.
I really had no choice but to trust him.
“My back is sore. I had to lift heavy boxes.”
Mason glanced at me. “Where was your boss? He can’t lift that shit for you?”
“How do you even know my boss?” I asked.
“I know things.”
“Okay.” I let out a long exhale, a few strands of hair around my face lifting. “He wasn’t there at the start of my shift. I could’ve waited and let him move the boxes when he arrived, but I didn’t.”
“You should let him do that next time.” Mason’s tone was about a thousand times more irritated than he had the right to be.
“Do you have a problem with Eric? He’s actually been really fucking good to me, so I’d appreciate if you dropped your shit attitude about him.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s been good to you,” Mason scoffed.
I grabbed Mason’s arm and lifted it off my thigh, forcefully pushing it back over to his side of the car.
The urge to jump out of the car swirled through my thoughts.
Just like the urge to scream at the top of my lungs, or shoot him, or grab the wheel and drive us off the road, or throw his phone out the window again.
“You are so fucking irritating. This jealousy thing you’re doing right now isn’t hot. It’s genuinely pissing me off.” I crossed my arms, nails digging into my flesh through my sweater. “You don’t know Eric at all.”
“I’m not fucking jealous, Dakota.”
“Then what is going on?” I shouted.
“It’s not about you!” Mason tossed his hand up with exasperation. “I was already in a bad mood before I left to pick you up, so it’s not about you. And I was going to ask if you wanted to take a warm bath or something since your back hurts. I’ll give you a massage. Is that fine?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure.”
Mason’s mood hadn’t improved by the time he parked the car, and mine had worsened. I wanted to help him, wanted to make him feel better, but he wasn’t going to tell me what was wrong, and I was sick of trying to figure it out. I was so goddamn sick of this same cycle with him.
Somehow, I’d trapped myself in distinct torturous cycles with both Micah and Mason. If I didn’t break free of them soon, I was going to go completely insane.
All three of us were literally going in circles.
I walked back to Mason’s bedroom and kicked my boots off then tossed my bag on the bed. Mason started the water in the bathroom, checking the temperature with his hand before pulling up the stopper in the tub. I joined him in the room and started undressing.
Mason was just watching me.
I hated the way I wanted to melt under his heated stare. He didn’t deserve that from me today.
“I’m sorry for my mood,” Mason said, walking toward me. “Okay? I’m sorry, baby. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed as he reached behind his neck to tug his shirt off, revealing his perfect torso. I unhooked my bra then shrugged it off my shoulders. “Are you getting in with me?”
He nodded. “I wanna make you feel good,” Mason said. “In a completely innocent way,” he added, smirking.
“Right, because the state of your dick right now makes it very easy to believe your intentions are entirely pure.” I looked down at his erection pointedly.
“Believe it, baby.” He grinned.
I scowled.
The tub was full now, steam curling off its surface.
I put my hair up in a bun, then let Mason lead me over to the bath.
Warmth enveloped me as I stepped in, gliding up the length of my bare body when I sank lower.
Mason joined me, his hands on my waist guiding me to sit between his legs and lean back against him.
“Is the temperature good?” he asked, his voice low in my ear.
I nodded.
“That’s good, baby.” His hands skimmed up to cup my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples as I squirmed, heat pooling between my thighs.
“Mason, stop,” I said firmly. “I don’t want that right now.”
“Okay…” he murmured, moving his hands back to my waist, keeping me pressed to him. His hardness was digging into my lower back. “Not right now.”
“I just want to talk to you.”
“We can talk.”
“And you massage my shoulders.”
He lifted his hands to my shoulders, his thumbs digging into my muscles. “And I massage your shoulders,” he echoed. I relaxed into his touch, craving the satisfying pain that came with him working away the tension.
“Why are you in a bad mood today? I thought you would be happy Aamon is dead.”
“I am happy he’s dead, but with Aamon dead, what’s going to happen to you and Micah?”
“What?” I twisted to look at him over my shoulder.
“Things are going to change now that we aren’t working together to save you.”
“They don’t have to change.” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, baby,” Mason said, gently turning my head back, resuming his massage. “I’m patient, but not that patient. And Micah might be more patient than me, but his reserve isn’t endless either.”
It was something I’d been trying not to worry about, but Mason was right.
This wasn’t a forever thing. I didn’t get to keep doing this indefinitely.
I’d just been holding out some hope that Mason and Micah could reconcile their differences before I reached the end of the tracks.
I was still holding out that hope.
“What happened between you guys?” I asked. Mason’s hands stopped moving. “I mean, you fucking hate him—and before you interrupt to correct me, I’m now aware he feels the same towards you. Okay?”
“We don’t need to discuss this,” Mason murmured, pressing his lips to the side of my neck just below my ear. I tilted my head to give him better access.
“You’re dodging me for the thousandth time. I don’t enjoy it.”
“It’s okay, I’m not in a bad mood anymore.”
I paused. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m better now. With you here.”
“Okay…”
I still wanted to have a real conversation with him, despite what he was saying about feeling better. Honestly, I didn’t give a shit about what he was saying. Today was just one of many days like this, and if I was never allowed to get to the root cause of it all, I’d never be able to help him.
Just another reason we weren’t going to last.
“Well,” I continued, “I still want to help you.”
“I appreciate that, baby.” One of his hands slid down my stomach, his fingers slipping between my thighs. “Maybe after this.”
“After what?” I asked weakly, the question coming out more like a moan than anything else. Mason had one hand on my pussy and the other on my breast, working me up fast.
“After I make you feel better.”
I didn’t resist him at all when he started toying with my nipple again, or when his fingers sought out my clit. I just leaned back against him, melting into him—exactly the way I knew I shouldn’t. We needed to have real conversations. We always just had sex. But I was weak and stupid.
He pinched my nipple, rubbed my clit, teased my entrance, sucked on the side of my neck. His breath was hot on the shell of my ear, giving me goosebumps even in the warm water.
I was turning into a fucking mess.
Mason carefully took the rubber band from my hair, letting my bun fall loose, the ends of my hair floating on top of the water. He turned me to face him, pulling my mouth to his, slipping his tongue past my lips.
Moans and whines and whimpers escaped me in humiliating succession.
Whatever.
I lifted myself on my knees, rising out of the water and putting my tits in Mason’s face. He grabbed me, dragging me forward, sucking a wet nipple into his mouth. Water streamed down my chest and ribs as I moved to straddle Mason’s lap, arching my back, getting my hair wet.
He dragged a line with his tongue across my chest, swirling it around my other nipple. I moaned, swiveling my hips on the head of his dick, hands wrapping around the back of his neck.
I was becoming completely mindless as Mason played with my body. Biting my tits, sucking my nipples, angling his cock to hit me better.
“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” I panted. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Talk to me, then.” He skimmed his lips around the curve of my breast, pulling me down as he kissed up my throat.
“I…” My voice trailed off. I still wanted to have a real conversation with him, but I was no longer capable of speaking articulately. “Fuck,” I whimpered. “Just fuck me.”
Neither of us would be able to focus until this situation was taken care of.
Mason stood me up and turned me around, bending me forward to grab the edge of the tub as he lined his cock up with my entrance.
“I’m going to slip and break my face,” I complained.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Mason said and lifted me out of the bathtub, setting me on a non-slippery bathmat and bending me forward again to hold the ledge. He stood behind me—in the same position as before, but now with my feet on solid ground instead of the slick porcelain bottom of the tub.