Page 55 of Boundaries

From a safe distance, I allowed my gaze to roam over Mason. He looked calm and comfortable and not out of place considering he was in the enemy's lair. His black tee was tight against his muscled body and he wore dark jeans.

Boyd, Stuart, and Mattie were playing beer pong and their aims were all shit. I wanted to join in and show them who the boss of that game was but I didn’t want to be seen to be having too much fun.

Jenna kept a wary eye on me as did Nixon, who appeared to wear a constant smirk when he looked my way. Had Mason told him about the barn thing? Probably. I suddenly felt like I was trapped in a dodgy Netflix drama and couldn’t escape.

It was now quite dark and there was a breeze in the air. I was just in the process of opening another beer when I saw Mason and his date if you could call her that, walking hand in hand from the area between the hedges where the summer house was. What the hell had they been doing in there? The thought ruffled me more than it should have done. I forced myself to stay focused on anything but Mason but struggled. The fact that he was there with another girl was eating away at my insides.

That was the final straw and I placed the full bottle of beer on the windowsill of the house. Mason had taken the same seat he’d had before, and the girl, the sofa. Boyd was now sitting where Seth had been and I made my move.

She looked like the cat that had got the cream and the cream was Mason flavoured. Over my dead body!

There was a tight ball of emotion in my chest. Everyone was wrapped up in the music, chatter and games and I kicked off my sandals and walked over to where Mason sat with his strong arms resting on the chair. He glanced up at me with a curious look before nodding, “Amy.” He had such a strong jaw like God had carved it from granite. Alex was lucky he hadn’t shattered his hand that day at the beach.

I squared my shoulders, “Mason,” I echoed with a sigh before hitching my dress up slightly and lowering myself onto his lap, straddling him. It all happened so fast and his large body stiffened. I pressed my breasts into his chest and slid my fingers over his jaw before mashing my mouth against his. I didn’t use any tongue; it wasn’t supposed to be sexy, but it would have looked that way from the back. Where she was sitting.

“Fuck me, go Mason!” Boyd roared, probably drawing some attention from other parts of the garden. I heard someone clap but of course, I had my eyes closed. Mason was like a piece of wood, stiff and his mouth didn’t soften. At first, he didn’t try to kiss me back either. My hands curled into his hair and I ran my tongue across his closed mouth. I heard his breath hitch in his throat and then everything went wild.

He shifted in his seat and I could feel he wasn’t unaffected. He was growing hard between my parted legs, the muscles of his thighs, also like steel and I ground myself against him, and he grunted. His scent hit me, it was woody and musky and it swept in through my nose and came to settle in the pit of my belly.

My head was then yanked back quite roughly. Mason’s hands had tangled in my hair and had pulled me off his face. I was still breathing heavily. Those dark eyes met mine but he wasn’t angry, he was mildly amused I would say. My body tensed against his. At least after everything that had happened, I knew without arrogance that he was attracted to me.

“You still kiss like a virgin,” he whispered before his hand tightened and he forced my mouth back against his. Taking control. Our lips met and my mouth parted as he filled it with his tongue. I sank into him as my pulse skyrocketed. I could faintly hear more whoops, wolf whistles and Boyd’s barks of encouragement and someone shouted spin-the-bottle.

For me, they didn’t exist, all that did was the amazing heat I felt by being on Mason’s knee with his mouth moving so determinedly against mine.

My head was spinning and our bodies were close, fused together and the madness he was creating with his lips sent flurries of pleasure through my body. He tasted me, deeply, his tongue moving in and out and at one point, he drew my bottom lip into his mouth, like he had that evening of the fight. I moaned against him; my nipples as hard as bullets. Mason was literally inflicting sexual torture against my lips. The want inside me reached new heights. Irrespective of how I felt about this man, I physically needed him. He fed my starvation of affection.

My fingers fell onto his biceps and they flexed beneath against my palm. I felt Mason’s hand at the back of my head, angling me to get better access. He growled against my lips and I fenced my tongue against his.

I heard, “Get a room,” through the mist of passion.

And then it was gone. Mason pulled my head back again using my hair, breaking the kiss. Pinpricks of pain fluttered over my scalp and I jammed my hands against his shoulders and pushed back off his lap, flicking my legs over his to the decking.

He wore an expression of victory like he’d won something and I wanted to rake his face with my nails. My plan had backfired. As I said before, I never won any round I went with the Mason.

Our eyes clashed like soldiers during battle and I needed to make an escape. I couldn’t believe that I had just played tongue tennis with Mason in front of everyone. What had started out as a prank had gone terribly wrong?

Shooting him a sugary sweet smile, I pushed to my feet and turned, giving Mason’s guest a sympathetic look. She was outraged and in the process of standing.

As I sashayed away, I heard Mason say, “Lara.” In an ‘it meant nothing, please forgive me’ tone. Yeah right, tell that to your raging hard-on that had been digging into my thigh!

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Mason offered in a dry voice.

“I’ll see myself out I think,” she shot back. She was fuming and I felt a hint of regret. I picked up speed not wanting her to pass me as she made her way out. Most people had now refocused on what they were doing before watching the show I had supplied.

As I passed by, it looked like Wynter was arguing with that Jaxon guy and then it hit me. Jaxon, as in her stepbrother Jaxon? I decided not to tangle myself up with those thoughts just then. I needed a shower and as far as my presence at the party and playing nice went, I was done.

I retrieved my sandals and stormed past a puzzled Jenna and Nixon who were standing in the kitchen. I couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough. Fresh humiliation washed over me.

After showering, I pulled on clean knickers and wrapped my body in a towel. I had an ensuite bathroom and the largest bedroom in the house. It wasn’t due to favouritism; I’d just nagged the heck out of my parents until they’d caved. Chrissy, Jenna and I were on this floor and my parents had an attic room above us which had been converted. It was still thoroughly luxurious up there.

I’d washed my hair and it smelled of coconuts. Taking the towel off my head, I then bushed it and briefly checked my reflection before turning to exit the bathroom.

Pulling open the door, I stepped into my lamp-lit bedroom to see Mason, standing with his back against my closed bedroom door. My heart jumped in my chest at the shock.

“I had hoped you’d be naked and in bed by now.” Mason’s dark eyes roamed over my towel-clad body and on autopilot, I held the hairbrush out in front of me.

He cocked his head to one side and folded his arms across his chest.

---