Page 26 of Forbidden Cravings

He looked back at me, his green eyes hooded in the dark room. “Were for you. And I hope you know, I don’t hold hair back from puke for just anyone.” The wink he gave me sent my heart pounding, and I swallowed a little too loudly.

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you make that noise every time you swallow, or does it depend on what’s going down your throat?”

My mouth gaped, my heart rate doubling. “It depends,” I answered, hearing the shake in my voice.

Laughing, he picked my feet up and rose. “I had Finch pick pizza up. Your stomach okay with that?”

I nodded as he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my head. “Riley’s out with Breck still. I have her learning the ropes at the club. Stay here and I’ll bring something down for you.”

His face hovered over mine and I reached up, placing my hands on either side of it, but he drew away, my heart dropping. “None of that, Case.”

Disappointed, I looked away, staring at the screen. His thumb tilted my face back to him. His eyes were intense as they dropped to my lips and trailed the path his thumb took as it brushed over them.

“Then what?” I asked. “We go back to teasing until you send me to my room alone and dripping while you stalk off just as unsatisfied as I am?” He glanced back up and the hunger in his eyes left my knees weak. His fingers traced my neck and when he lifted them, I kept them in place, leaning into them. “I leave tomorrow, Mason. It’s one night. One night that won’t hurt anyone. One night no one needs to know about.”

He moved his hand, embracing mine and pinning it against the couch. Bringing his face closer, his lips swept across mine and my heart leaped to life. “Can you do just one night, Casey?” The torment in his voice sent my heart stuttering, the emotion behind it palpable. “Because I’m not certain I can.”

His words tore through me, leaving an ache in my chest, one that went too deep, and I thought he might be right. One night wouldn’t be enough.

“But it’s all we have,” I said, hearing how raspy my voice sounded.

He stood, letting my hand go and leaving me with a strange emptiness. My eyes followed his path until he was gone. I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and hating the uncomfortable feeling that still sat in it. The movie ended, the credit music playing as I stared blankly at the floor, trying to work out the emotions that were sifting through me.

By the time Mason returned, the credits had ended, the next in the series starting. I’d paid no attention to it, still rattled like I was each time I was with him. He stood over me, handing me a plate with a piece of pizza on it and a ginger soda. Sitting on the other end of the sofa, he sipped on his glass of liquor.

I eyed the soda, knowing there had been none in his kitchen. It was another caring gesture, another glimpse at the soft side of him that he’d given me last night.

“Figured it would help your stomach,” he said with a shrug, looking uncomfortable as if I’d caught him doing something he didn’t want seen.

Deciding to let it go and take it as the sweet gesture it was, I nodded to his drink. “Your meal looks a bit skimpy.”

He smirked. “Like I prefer my women.”

I pursed my lips, not liking how that comment left a stir of envy in me. He took a sip, keeping his eyes on me like he was waiting for my reaction. Placing the soda on the floor, I picked at my pizza, dragging my finger through it and scooping up a long string of cheese. I brought it to my mouth, holding my tongue out and letting the cheese slowly stretch onto it before putting my finger between my lips and sucking the sauce off.

His grip on his glass was so tight I thought it might shatter, that ravenous look returning to his eyes.

“I thought you preferred your women in sweats and leggings?” I said, swirling my tongue around my finger.

“Fuck, Casey,” he grumbled.

I took a bite of my pizza, making sure to lick my lips with deliberate slowness. “If that’s not the case, I can go upstairs and change.”

He grimaced, his expression hardening, and I knew the game was over again. I’d gotten a moment of revenge for his earlier teasing, but that was all I’d get. He wanted control again. He stood, setting his drink down and grabbing the plate from my hands. “That’s enough,” he said.

Huffing, he sat back down, taking my legs and yanking me down so they were in his lap again. He snatched the remote, mumbling about my poor taste in movies, and started flicking through the options. It seemed odd that he hadn’t left the room.

“I hear that one’s good,” I said as he flipped past a romance. He shot me a look. “If you want me to stay down here, I’m not watching that shit.”

“You’re staying?” I asked, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

“If you behave.” He stopped on a sci-fi, and I shook my head. “What?” he asked. “You’re not going to behave?”

With a laugh, I replied, “No, you put a dorky sci-fi on. Should I tell the guys that’s what you’re watching?”

He glared at me. “There’s nothing wrong with my choice. It’s better than your shit.”

Shrugging, I sat back, content to watch whatever he wanted as long as he continued to rub my legs the way he was. By the time the movie was half over, his hands had risen to my thighs. I didn’t think it was an intentional move, there was nothing sexual about it. Instead, it was comforting, almost loving. I glanced over at him, catching him looking at me rather than at the movie. He held my gaze when any other man would have looked away.

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