Combined with the pleasure rapidly building up, I knew I wouldn’t last more than a few seconds.
“Mason…” A new, foreign emotion surged forward, and I cupped his scruffy cheek. It just felt so damn right. He felt so damn right.
As he turned into my touch and kissed my palm, the climax overtook me without warning. I managed to suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut, and then I was soaring. I tensed up and clenched down. In a fraction of a second, everything slowed down. I felt his cock sliding into me, I heard the sharp intake of air he took, I sensed his own orgasm approaching, and I squirmed with the bolts of euphoria traveling through me.
Mason rocked into me a couple more times before he let go with a low groan against my neck.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recalled telling Sharon that I’d prefer to meet someone who would return to his place at the end of the night, and now I could only call myself an idiot. Mason was the difference. He changed everything. He required another set of rules, and I didn’t know those. All I was certain of was that he couldn’t leave yet.
We weren’t done.
A bathroom break later, I had stolen his T-shirt and brought the half-melted ice cream to the kitchen. I was supposed to throw it out. But instead, I ended up sitting on the kitchen island, swinging my legs and inhaling the vanilla ice cream straight out of the container.
Mason stood in front of me, leaning back against the sink, and watched me in amusement.
“Want some?” I held up a spoonful, and just as he shook his head, I spilled some on my thigh. “Shit.”
“On second thought.” He leaned down and planted a wet kiss on my thigh, his tongue tickling my skin.
I laughed and reached for the napkins behind me.
“Delicious.” He did a thorough job of cleaning me up before he straightened. “You look good in my clothes.”
“You look good in nothing.” Sadly, I’d watched him put on his jeans earlier. But his boxer briefs were still on my living room floor.
Mason grinned and leaned back again, the heels of his palms landing on the edge of the counter. “You’re fucking adorable, you know that?”
I smiled around my spoon. “I’m happy.”
He returned the smile. “Good. Me too.”
Even better. But…now what? Did I just ask him to spend the night, or was it assumed that he would? I didn’t know the protocol. Aurora would be back tomorrow after school, and then she’d be here until Friday.
“Are you working now?” I wondered.
He shook his head. “I’m on…I guess you can call it a sabbatical. I took some time off to focus on the move and getting my boy settled. I reckon I’ll get back to it after the holidays.”
Oh, to have the option of taking time off. “After the divorce, I vowed to travel more. Instead, I’ve taken on more work.” I rolled my eyes at myself. “So far, I’ve made it to Phoenix.”
“Where you got to see me,” he replied with a little smirk.
“Mm. It was a good trip.” In retrospect, I was even happier I’d gone. I’d left a raving five-star review at a spa that only deserved three, and it was Mason’s fault. It’d been so good to see him, even when I’d thought everything was peachy with him and his wife. “You promised me a dinner.” He was going to explain everything.
“I did, didn’t I?” His eyes flashed with humor and contemplativeness. “After next weekend, how’s that? I’ll be able to relax more. Tristan and Katie will be at the house, and I’ll be all moved in by then.”
It’s a date, I almost said. It was right there on the tip of my tongue with the last of the vanilla ice cream.
“Can’t wait,” I said instead. But somewhere inside me, I wondered what an actual date with Mason would be like.
Part of me knew it would be amazing. Part of me wanted to pick out a nice dress already.
I set down the container and tilted my head at Mason. “I think you should come kiss me.”
A slow smile spread across his lips, and he pushed off the counter and joined me. “On one condition.” He parted my legs and stepped between them. “Make me breakfast in the morning.”
He was staying. The relief was so palpable that I threw my arms around him and kissed him hard. “Anything you want. I make wicked good scones and New York bagels.”
He chuckled into the kiss and hugged me tightly. “Bagels are a weakness, but you don’t have to bake anything from scratch, darlin’. I just wanna be here.” He pecked me softly. “I’ll be happy with a cup of coffee. And my head between your thighs.”
“Jesus, Mason.” The fever was back.
Six
“Mom!” Aurora hollered from upstairs.
“In the kitchen, sweetie!” I called back, fishing four bagels out of the boiling water. I placed them on the baking sheet before lowering another four dough circles into the water, and then I reset the timer.
Aurora entered the kitchen by the time I was applying some egg wash to the circles that’d already been boiled.
“Oh, are you making bagels?” She came over to peer into the boiling pot.
“Yeah, I thought I’d bring some over to Mason,” I replied. “He’s been holed up in his house working on his kitchen all day.”
He got the keys yesterday, after which he’d dragged me over to, um, christen his master bathroom. There was no furniture yet, so he’d returned to the inn later in the evening, and this morning before I went to work, I’d seen a delivery truck outside his house. Turned out, everything he’d ordered for his new kitchen had arrived. Now his front yard was a dumping ground for all the old cupboards he’d torn out.
I’d foolishly assumed he’d have someone else fix his kitchen, but Mason had looked almost offended at the idea.
“You’ll save some for me, right?” Aurora asked. “I’m eating carbs again.”
I side-eyed her and fished out the next batch from the pot. “Did you give them up?”
“Well, I tried.”
I shook my head. “You are perfectly healthy, Aurora. Don’t wreck your body, please.”
She chewed on her lip. “Linda called Jess a chubby chaser for hanging out with me.”
I stared at her incredulously. “She what?” My fucking God, as much trouble and gray hairs Brady had given me, raising a girl was ten times harder, because I had to navigate through threads of bullshit comments online all the time. Aurora might think I gave her space on social media, but I checked every damn post she was tagged in. Girls her age were so vicious. Just last year, when her hair had been shorter, that little bitch—Linda, a girl in her class—had asked when her gender transition would be complete. “I’ll call her mother,” I said firmly. “If she thinks she—”
“No! What the fuck, Mom.” Aurora looked at me, horrified. “Don’t do that. Promise me you won’t call her. It’ll just make shit worse.”
I put my hands on my hips.
I had to do something.
She flushed and fidgeted under my gaze. “Matt is helping me, okay?”
My mouth formed a silent “Oh.” Because damn, this was a surprise. Sweet Matt, who William considered his stepson nowadays. Matt, Kelly’s eighteen-year-old son. Matt, who viewed Aurora as a kid.