Page 82 of Boundaries

“I remember you threatening me with other guys before,” Mason huffed.

“So, what if I was flirting? What the hell has it got to do with you?” Angry tears were now threatening at the back of my eyes. I didn’t want to fight with him, I wanted his arms around me.

“Did I just hear you correctly? I’ve had my dick inside you for weeks and you speak to me of rights? That’s fucking rich?” A zing went through me at his words. The way he said dick set off an orgy in my stomach. He had such an arresting voice.

Glancing up into his face, I had never felt so uncertain about anything. Mason was severely messing with my head. Why was he acting this way when he was the one who would end things when our parents came home?

I decided to take the bull by the horns, “So, what of it? We’re having sex. It doesn’t mean anything.” Attempting to sound carefree about that was no easy task.

“You’re telling me, it doesn’t mean anything?” Mason exhaled, his nostrils flared and he pushed off the tree and clenched his fists by his sides. I could see he was trying to get hold of his temper. He was outraged, probably the maddest I’d seen him. The thought that I had inspired this display of emotion struck a chord inside me.

He had to care, there was no way this was a saving-face reaction. And who the fuck would he have been saving face for, no one knew about us. Not really. Even Jenna only knew about that one time, not those mind-blowing occasions that followed.

Lord, he was so handsome, even when his face was etched into an expression of extreme wrath. I noticed he had a small cleft in his chin, a detail that I had never noticed before.

I wondered how I could defuse the situation. I was pleased to see him and I didn’t want us to continue wasting that small amount of time together screaming at each other.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was just chatting and having fun, there was nothing in it. I didn’t even know you’d be there. You said it wasn’t your scene,” I pointed out, gesturing with my hands toward him.

Mason rolled his shoulders and then dashed a frustrated hand through his hair. His muscles rippled with the movement. He looked so hot in the tank top and I wanted him so much. It had only been a few days but I’d missed him.

He was staring down that blade of a nose of his, those eyes wandering up and down my body. I wondered if he liked my dress and my body started to tighten with desire as he watched me.

“Take your underwear off,” Mason suddenly instructed in a low voice. I swallowed, nerves suddenly kicking me in my solar plexus. Briefly casting my eyes to and forth.

I loved how Mason ordered me around, it was a huge turn-on.

Inhaling, I looked up at him through my lashes.

“And you can stop it with the girly eyelash-fluttering shit. You don’t need to do that; you’ve hooked me already.”

And I had, I could see that in his longing expression.

That heat from his gaze was making my entire body tingle. My tongue slipped out and ran across my lips automatically, it wasn’t a come-on move, it was a reflex. I stepped toward Mason, keeping eye contact before I slipped my hands under my dress and hooked my fingers into the lace of my knickers. I then pulled them down my legs.

Mason watched me with a smoky look; desire now evident in those dark deep eyes of his. He held out one strong hand and I handed him my underwear which he then shoved into the pocket of his jeans. That scrap of delicate lace peeked out and looked so out of place against the roughness of the denim he wore.

“You’re mine Amy, tell me you get that?” he growled, lowering his head, getting in my face. When I didn’t answer straight away, he grabbed my upper arms. My head snapped further back and a jet of heat shot between my legs. I was such a sucker for the rough stuff. He was so strong and mean looking and I wanted to straddle his body right there.

“Amy,” he repeated, his nostrils flaring like an angry bull.

“Yes, I get you,” I said breathlessly, desire pumping through me.

Mason placed his head against mine and I felt his breath fan my face. It was then that I knew I needed answers.

“So, this sell-by date. My parents are due back in three days. And then does the fairy tale end? You say I’m yours now but that’s not the message you gave me the other day.”

Mason drew back his head, his brow creased, deep groves in his forehead and he released my arms and stepped back.

“What are you talking about? Nothing is fucking ending.”

Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs of my memory I reminded him, “But you said we have a sell-by date, remember? The ham sandwich thing?”

Quirking his head to one side he shot me a pointed look.

“I meant the sneaking about shit has a sell-by date, not us,” he bit out, totally shocked by my words. His hand motioned between our two bodies.

“What?” My voice came out in a croak.

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