CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
“We are here.” Mason says, and Syn slows the car to a halt opposite the dark red story building. He turns off the engine, and he pulls his phone from his pocket.
“Put your number in.”
“You can have my email.” He says and types his email into Syn’s phone. “I’ll respond with my new number as soon as I get a new phone.” My hand itches to snatch that phone and smash it with my boot, but I know Syn’s taunting me, trying to get me jealous.
“You’re welcome to my bar at the Sovereign then.” He smirks at Mason.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to drop by.” He says and opens the door with his duffel bag in hand.
“I stay on the second floor of the building. Second door on the left.” He says and glimpses at me.
I barely look at him, and he sighs as he walks away.
As he crosses to the other side of the street, Syn cocks his head at me.
“You’re just going to let him walk away. Saint, really?”
“It’s more complicated than you think.”
“Is it? You know I’m always by your side, no matter what anyone else thinks.
I’ve always been.” Syn wasn’t lying. I am closer to my cousin Sinclair Syn King than my brothers.
Tobias never taught us how to be a family.
He enforced individuality. I was to be the successor.
Virgil, the soldier and enforcer. Cross…
well, I don’t really know what Tobias molded Cross to be.
We’d spent most of our childhood apart, and he’d only reunited with the family after he graduated from university. “He’s about to get into the building.”
My hand grips the interior door handle. The lock clicks as I open the car. The cool night breeze folds in, and I swallow hard. “Mason, wait!” I jog over to the other side of the street. Before I reach him, he drops his duffel bag by the staircase and moves toward me in slow steps.
“I have never kissed anyone else since my first kiss.” I say breathlessly.
His breath comes out short, eyes meeting mine.
“Please, little devil, kiss me.” I plead. I take a step close barely inches away from him. He lifts his hand and smacks me across my face. His hand hit me hard, knocking my face sideways. My jaw hardens, and I chuckle as I regard him.
“We were trapped together for two weeks. All of that meant nothing to you.” He declares. “I’m not kissing you.”
“It meant something to me.”
“No, it didn’t.” He shakes his head and takes off two buttons of his shirt. “Look at these scars. It was for you.” He seethes.
“I know.”
“Then why did you act as if it didn’t matter?
I was waiting outside the hospital for you.
” He stabs his finger into my chest. “Because I wanted to see you, and you acted like you saw a ghost.” He breathes hard.
My lips move, but no words form. “Goodnight, Saint.” He turns on his heels and heads upstairs.
Head bowed, I look back. Syn leans against the car door watching me. “You just going to let him go.”
“He doesn’t want me, Syn.” I utter bitterly.
“First, fool. He just told you which part of the building he is staying in. Second, that’s because you’re an asshole.”
I frown at him.
“Go to him, Saint.”
I glance up at the building and stride toward the entrance, taking the elevator to the next floor.
Second door by the left, right?
I knock and hear footsteps drawing closer. The lock clicks as the door slides open. Mason clenches his jaw and slams the door on my face, but I slip my leg in, stopping him.
“You’re not going to invite me in.”
“No.”
I wince, and his eyes meet mine instantly. There’s a softness in his eyes, and damn, I’ll gladly stand here and stare at him all night.
“Go home, Saint.”
“I can’t, Mason.” I shake my head. “Let me in, little devil.”
He steps aside and I slip into the apartment. I scan through the space and smile. “Decent.”
“Tell me what you want and be on your way.”
I face him, holding his gaze. Heat uncoils in my stomach and spreads through my veins. I step closer and the rhythm of his breathing changes. I take his hand and caress tenderly.
“I want you to kiss me.”
He looks at me, lips slightly parted in fury.
I deserve this.
I hurt him. I’ve hurt him so many times, and I deserve all his anger.
I go on my knees, skeptical about the decision as he stares at me with shock in his eyes. “Saint, what are you doing?” He tries to step back, but my hand circles his waist to keep him close.
“Apologizing.” I look up at him and inhale sharply.
“You can’t kneel for me. Get up. Please.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, and I’m not getting up until you accept my apology.”
His face contorts with frustration. He closes the gap between us and pulls me up to my feet. His eyes scan my face. Our chests collide together. He’s not stepping back. I’m not. I don’t want to.
A restrained breath rattles in my lungs. I tap my feet against the floor, hopelessly waiting for him to close the gap between our lips.
I search his eyes, waiting for a moment of doubt. Waiting for him to walk away. And God, my heart aches at the idea of him walking away from me.
“Kiss me because you want to, not because I want you to.”
“We are only going to kiss.” He points out.
“Just a kiss.” Not even a single breath after those words leave me, and he closes the gap between us ferociously. The moment his lips touch mine, I’m in heaven. My fingers snake up to his face as I hold him. His fingers circle my waist, and he pulls me closer.
I shouldn’t be giving myself to him, but here I am.
Kissing him means I’m going against everything I believe in. This time I’m not taking from him because I have the power to, but because he wants to kiss me. It’s not an order or a contract he has to abide by. It’s what he wants.
It’s what I want.
He guides the kiss, placing my hands around his waist. And God, he has me chasing the taste.
The warmth and the spice. I groan and part my lips, and he slips his tongue into me.
His free hand curls around the base of my skull as a broken sound escapes me.
But it only makes him deepen the kiss even more.
Teeth scraping. Mouths crashing.
Intensely. Fiercely.
The kiss deepens into something brutal. It isn’t gentle. It’s careless. Urgent. Messy. Terrifyingly exciting. Every part of me comes alive in a way I never thought it could. Everything around us fades until it’s just us.
He devours me. I savor every fucking bit of it.
I expect him to stop any minute now, but he doesn’t. He keeps fucking going, and God, do I keep chasing that high? I do because I don’t know if it’ll ever happen again.
When he finally pulls back, his chest rises in an unsteady exhale. We are barely an inch apart. My forehead dips against his. The weight of the line we’ve crossed settles in his eyes. I see it. I fucking see how terrified he is, even if he’ll never admit it.
“Damn the fucking consequences, little devil.”
“I’m not your little devil.”
“You taste so fucking good. Do I taste like yours?” I grunt and press a kiss on his forehead.
He doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t have to.
“I don’t want to let you go.” My voice shakes.
“You promised it’ll only be a kiss.” He smiles and sighs defeatedly.
“I know,” I sigh. “But let me make something clear,” he tenses in my arms. My hands slide up to his jaw and tilt his gaze up to meet mine. “I don’t like it when you give other guys attention. I don’t like it when you flirt with my cousin. Flirt with me instead.”
“Are you jealous, Saint?”
“Isn’t it obvious, baby?” I grumble, voice laced with the intense aftermath of the kiss. I fucking am, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
“I won’t do it again.” He smiles. “We’ll see each other at work.”
“Of course, we will.” The words tumble out of my mouth. Even though I’m not sure if I’ll be at the office.
“Get all the rest you need, little devil. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Goodnight, Saint.”
“Goodnight, Mason.” I press another kiss on his forehead.
It guts me that I’m leaving because all my body and mind crave is to stay here with him tonight.
But I don’t want to scare him away. I’ll be patient.
I wait as much as he wants me to. I took from Mason the first time I laid my hands on him.
I’ll never do that again. I won’t touch him unless he wants me to. It’s a promise.