I chomp down on my knuckle as I watch him pull out a water bottle, uncap it, and drink three quarters of it down. As he gulps it, his sexy throat bobbing, my own throat goes dry.
His body is magnificent. A perfect amount of body hair. Lower back dimples. He’s got a silver chain around his neck and a watch around his wrist; I’m pretty sure it’s the one that came from that redhead the other day. I feel a flutter of extreme unpleasantness at imagining his hands on another woman.
He looks over his shoulder at me, eyes trailing me from head to toe and then back up again.
I push that awful image away and swallow down that ugly jealousy I’ve got no right to feel.
He puts his drink down on the counter, still watching me.
Without thinking it through, I moisten my lips with my tongue, and it must signal something to him because now he’s got this look on his face, a kind of… purpose in his eyes.
“What?” I whisper.
He’s moving in my direction.
And the look intensifies.
Uh oh. He’s coming over to fuck me. I know he is by that look in his eyes. “Stop,” I command.
“No. Fuck that,” he replies. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“And?”
“And I haven’t even fucked you yet today.”
Something in me snaps and I’m bolting past him, heading for the door.
Like a dummy. Because of course he’s going to chase me.
I look over my shoulder and see he’s smiling wide, looking supremely pleased that I’m running.
He changes directions and is in front of me. Just before we collide, I pivot and run the opposite way, which means I’ll either have to run upstairs or downstairs.
It’s down the stairs I go. As fast as I can.
He’s laughing behind me as he follows.
Like this is a game.
Is it?
Of course he’s gonna catch me. The biggest problem with this? Mason loves chasing me when I run.
And my biggest problem? The thrill I get, knowing what will happen when this predator catches me. I might be running on purpose. At every opportunity. But what if the thrill dies and he stops chasing?
I push that unpleasant thought away and look over my shoulder. Before I can stop myself, I crack a smile. His eyes light up, seeing it.
I bolt through the big party room on the bottom level to the back patio doors and find them unlocked. I slide the door wide and run toward the lake.
Not twenty feet from the house, I’m up in the air, caught in the Mason snare. He lifts me effortlessly into his arms and fluidly changes direction, marching back toward the house.
“Got ‘cha.”
“Put me down!” I grind out, thrashing in his grip.
My heart is pumping hard, my body feels like I’m running a temperature, and the glittery look in his dark eyes has me feeling something… something… I feel alive.
“No way,” he denies, tightening his grip on me. “Never. I caught you, baby. You’re mine forever.”
His eyes flare with something… something irresistibly hot.
Oh fuck. That’s it – something snaps inside me – self-control? Restraint? Whatever snapped, it’s gone. My hands are suddenly on his prickly jaw and my mouth attaches to his. He shoves the door open and then we’re tumbling onto something soft. A couch.
I immediately throw my hoodie over my head and off while he whips his trackpants down, lust in his eyes.
34
Mason
“Your face is prickly,” she says softly before her lips touch mine.
“You asked me not to shave. You want me to?”
“Please don’t,” she whispers, kissing me again.
My face splits into a wide smile. “You want me to grow a beard for you?”
“No. Just… stubble. I have a thing for the five o’clock shadow.”
“Or the nine o’clock one?” I tease.
She wrinkles her nose. “I won’t be here long enough for you to grow a beard anyway.”
“Yeah you will,” I correct.
And I see something in her eyes, something new. I feel it rippling from her, buzzing from her. Possibility?
“I’ll keep stubble for you whenever you want. You want to give me permission to shave? I’ll wait for it.”
Her teeth skim her bottom lip slowly, a glow flaring in her indigo eyes.
“You like that idea,” I say.
“Maybe.”
“My mate’s an alpha female. And I like it. There are some things I’m gonna control and some things you can take the lead on. We’ll work that out.”
She reaches for my cock and squeezes while I lick the seam of her mouth until she parts those lips enough for my tongue to dip inside. It meets hers and they dance together so I grind my pelvis into her hand. She squeezes again.
“I need inside you, wildberry. Now.”
“Have at it, Doggo,” she replies in a husky voice that makes the hairs prickle at the back of my neck. I’m dying to hear her call out my name in that same tone. “Now,” she adds.