Page 67 of Boundaries

The next morning, I awoke with Mason still beside me. He had a large muscled arm around my waist and one of his thighs was draped across my legs. I noticed the fine hairs on his arm and how his skin contrasted mine. I’d had the best night’s sleep and had dreamt about wicked things; wicked sexual things.

As I turned, my eyes met Mason’s. He was watching me, his hair tousled with a sleepy face on and my heart twisted; a thousand tremors skating around my body. A very, tender body.

Mason’s hair was mussed and I wanted to smooth my hands over it.

We smiled at each other before he placed a soft kiss on my lips and I was transported back to what we’d done the night before. It had been rough and raw and thoroughly sexually overwhelming.

“Good morning beautiful, you smell like heaven,” Mason husked in a long throaty breath before burying his head in my neck. His voice was thick from sleep; his words were like a balm to my ego. To me at that moment, Mason was everything I needed, rolled into the perfect package and I never wanted it to end.

After raining kisses along the skin there, he lifted his head.

“Morning. You don’t snore which is a surprise,” I informed him thoughtfully. We shared a look. It should have felt mental, the fact that I had woken up with Mason McKenna, but my life had never felt so right. I didn’t even care about morning breath or anything. I just craved his nearness.

Mason stretched before his expression changed and he gave me a pointed look. “Last night I didn’t use anything, so you could be at risk,” he began, all stern and business-like and my expression must have said it all as he rolled his eyes. Nothing escaped his notice.

“Not like that. I’m clean and get regular check-ups. I meant from pregnancy.” That rigidity of my shoulders suddenly dropped. The word pregnancy on those lips also didn’t overly shock me. I was team Mason suddenly. The man was now a threat to my sanity and, I realised with a wariness, my heart.

To be honest I had forgotten about it and was glad he’d mentioned it first. The thought of getting pregnant at eighteen was just too horrendous to think about.

“Yes, I was thinking about that last night,” I whispered back, my eyes locked on that perfect face. It was such an odd feeling, waking up with this man who had once been my enemy.

The question on everyone’s lips, was… what was he now? My boyfriend, my lover? An occasional shag. I deleted the last one from my memory as that was the lowest and seediest of the trio.

Mason was talking again, or should I say instructing; his favourite pastime.

“I’m annoyed with myself as it was irresponsible and I don’t take things like that lightly. It won’t happen again, I guess I just lost it. You need to go to the chemist, Amy. And how do you feel about possibly going on the pill?”

My eyes narrowed; I didn’t see what the problem was really. All my friends took it and were fine. Sex was also way better without a condom; I knew that now. In spades.

“I’m fine with that.”

Mason smiled, “You’re very accommodating all of a sudden.”

My nose wrinkled as I grinned back, “It must be the magic you work.” He was right, I now appeared to be under my nemesis’s thumb.

He arched an eyebrow, “The magic of my cock you mean.”

“Something like that.”

“The sex was good, Amy, considering you’re a newbie. And now I’ve done it without using anything, I don’t think I could go back. Being so close to you, feeling your skin against mine was unbelievable. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did.”

I laughed shyly and then Mason started kissing me. My whole body ticking again, like a timebomb of pleasure.

“I suppose I should also ask for the morning-after pill,” I muttered. I’d been with Betty to the chemist for that one time when the condom broke on her and James one night.

Mason gave me a lasting, lingering look, “If you’re happy with that?”

I nodded; it was the best way. I’d also speak to the pharmacist about the pill.

Mason then played tenderly with my breasts and stroked my stomach and we kissed, but we didn’t have sex again. I was partly relieved as he was right. I was sore. My body felt delicate everywhere.

Mason studied me for a long moment before he said, “So, I wanted to talk to you about Mabel.”

My stomach dipped as feelings of regret trickled in. Great. Now the mood was about to be ruined as he chewed me out about past mistakes. I braced myself.

Deciding to beat him to it, I said, “I know and I’m so sorry. I never said it, but I am.”

His forehead scrunched, “We were all sorry but I don’t get why you appear to think it was your fault. You said something at Kipling’s that day about how you were responsible for her death.”

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