Page 59 of Butterfly

LESLIE

In the end, it took the entire weekend to successfully escape. Mason had kept me cooped up in his apartment, distracting me with cuddling and orgasms until I barely knew which way was up. And if I were honest, I didn’t want to leave. I’d never felt so cared for, so tended to, so…safe. It was unbelievable that I got that from my stepbrother and bully, the same man who’d once terrorized me.

But the truth was right there. I saw it every time he brought me my favorite coffee (not drugged this time), made sure I came first, fed me my favorite foods, dropped kisses on my neck and forehead, held me in our sleep. I was becoming addicted to it, which terrified me. I hadn’t changed my mind on where I stood. We couldn’t be together. It would destroy our reputations—and our parents.

Also, I desperately needed a change of clothes. I’d been wearing his sweats every day because my one outfit was dirty, and I was sick of swimming in the fabric—even if I loved the comfort of having his smell surround me. Laundry was as good an excuse as any.

“You can do your laundry here,” Mason argued. I was standing by the front door to the apartment, and he was leaning on the door, facing me and blocking my exit. I tried to ignore just how sexy he was, arms crossed over his chest, a slight smirk on his face, as he propped up the door.

“My clothes are at my dorm,” I said. “What am I supposed to do, go get my clothes and bring them back here? That makes no sense.”

“It makes complete sense. I’ll come with you.”

“Mason.” Frustration filled me. I needed space so I could process everything that had happened between us. And he wasn’t going to give it to me.

“I need to go practice at the studio, too,” I pointed out.

“I’ll come with you.” He wasn’t backing down. “I want to watch you dance, butterfly. I’ve never seen you dance.”

His words melted me. “How about I go home, do laundry, do some work, and you meet me at the studio later?”

“Bro,” Matt said from the living room. “You can’t. We’re supposed to meet the team at the gym in twenty.”

Relief and disappointment battled it out in my heart. I loved the idea of him being with me, but I needed some time on my own. Mason having gym time with the team was perfect.

Mason groaned. “Fuck. Butterfly, come to the gym with us.”

Oh, lord.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you out of my sight for a second,” he said. “Besides, you can be my counterweight.”

As appealing as the image was of him doing push-ups with me on his back, I needed to stick to my plan. Space. Thinking. Clean clothes. Dance.

“And I don’t want to show up at the gym wearing your sweats that barely fit me, or my dirty clothes. It screams walk of shame.”

He pushed off from the door and took two steps toward me, until he towered over me and I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. “No shame. Remember?”

“I remember,” I said gently, even if my body didn’t believe it.

He shook his head. “I’ll come get you tonight.”

I started to protest, but he lifted a hand to my cheek, cradling my face as he swallowed my mouth in a dizzying kiss. I moaned, surrendering to him, until Matt disappeared. So did my shame about the forbidden nature of our relationship. How could I hold onto fear of the future when Mason’s heat, taste, touch kept me in the present, making me feel owned and cared for, all at once?

Finally, he released me. “I’ll drop you off at your dorm.”

I shook my head, needing at least a little independence. “I can walk.”

He shook his head. “Butterfly, I don’t think you understand yet. You’re mine. That means when I say I’ll drive you, I’m driving you. It’s my job to keep you safe and comfortable.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Matt called in warning.

“C’mon, Butterfly. Do you want me to be late?”

I relented. “Fine, you can drive me.”

A grin spread across Mason’s face. “Good girl.”

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