Page 35 of What are the Chances

Charlotte

SUNLIGHT IS COMING THROUGH the small window in wide streaks of gold in our cozy little room. There’s a heavy hand on my stomach, holding me against a firm chest. I let out a little sigh at how perfect I feel right now. Safe. Wanted. Cherished. I tick off the feelings because I don’t want to forget them. Not now. Not ever.

Mason stirs behind me, and the firm hand moves up to cup my breasts. I blush as he squeezes, then kisses my ear.

“Mornin’.” His husky, warm voice sends chills down my arms.

Last night was beyond anything I could have hoped for with Mason, but I hadn’t thought past the first time with him. My breaths are coming in and out in little gasps, but I’m not sure if Mason notices. I try to look over my shoulder to see him.

“Hey,” I whisper. Real smooth. Like a freaking pro.

I blush at my response, but Mason just chuckles and moves his hand lower until it’s between my legs. I inhale sharply and wait for him to touch me. I want him to touch me, but the morning breath and after sex smell… it’s enough to make me want a shower before he gears up for round two, but I know men don’t work like that. Knowing Mason wants me and likely doesn’t care about the rest, I try to relax and press back into him.

Mason inhales sharply. He leans forward, his hand in between my legs and ever so slightly, slowly starts moving his fingers. I let out a small gasp while his talented ministrations start tugging an orgasm from me. Mason shifts slightly and positions himself until he’s about to enter me. I keep pressing backward, craving the extra friction, needing him to fill me.

“Fucking hell, Char. You’re so...” He stops talking and leans forward. Kissing my ear, he continues to whisper. “You’re perfect.” Then he thrusts into me, and I let out a loud moan. “Shhhhh.” Mason laughs from behind me, then thrusts again, and I shove my face into the pillow.

Oh my God. Was it possible to die from an orgasm? A second later, the damn bed starts creaking, just like last night, and I laugh into the pillow as the creaks match Mason’s thrusts.

“Stop laughing. I can’t concentrate when you laugh,” Mason whisper-laughs behind me.

I lift my face. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”

He laughs again and falls forward but doesn’t stop his rhythm.

“Mianach,” Mason whispers in his Irish dialect. It’s hot, so freaking hot. I stop laughing and let the desire I have for him take over. Reaching back, I rest my hand around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. Mason lets out a low groan and grips my sides as he goes deeper. I feel my orgasm building, from the bottom of my toes that legitimately want to curl to the dizzy, blinding stars behind my eyes. I cover my face as I let out a scream. I wasn’t a screamer—not a single time with Kyle or the one other guy I’d been with—but there was zero chance of keeping all that locked inside after what Mason just did to me. I can feel him tense behind me and let out a small groan as he chases his own release, breathing hard behind me, half draped over my body. My face is still shoved into a pillow that has Mason’s cedar smell attached to it. I inhale and smile.

“You think anyone heard that?” I whisper as I lower the pillow.

Mason plants a kiss on my forehead and shifts back with a little creak of the old bed until he’s sitting on the edge. He turns to look at me with that perfect smile of his, his reddish hair mussed from sleep and sex. I was right about it being the perfect pulling length. He’s barechested, showing off those abs and corded muscle, smiling at me. Seeing him like this does something to me. It transcends sex. It’s beyond attraction. I blink and move to sit up to try to separate myself from whatever feeling it is—a feeling I won’t name, one I won’t give merit to.

“Char, I think the next county likely heard you, but I don’t care,” he laughs and tugs on my hand until I’m leaning toward him. “If I had it my way, we’d stay in bed all day, screaming and eating,” he smirks and leans forward to kiss me. My stomach flips as I mold my lips to his and stomp on that damn rogue emotion that keeps churning behind my chest.

“I’m going to head down to see if I can start the coffee for everyone and sort out breakfast. Why don’t you go hop in the shower? We’re off to see your fam today.” He stands abruptly and grabs a black t-shirt, pulling it on.

I stand as well, gather my things, and head to the shower. As the hot water hits my skin, I think about seeing my family, this one person who’s supposed to be a relative. All we have is an address and a last name. I can feel my stomach flip and dip with anxiety as I think about what they might do when they meet me. I want them to like me… to want me.

Once I finish dressing, I head downstairs to find Mason making eggs while Danny and his husband Richard stare at me with little smirks on their faces. I give both men a weak smile and will my face not to blush. I’m a grown woman, doing grown womanly things. I don’t need to be embarrassed. I let my eyes drift past the two men wearing matching robes and matching slippers and focus on Mason. He’s grinning like an idiot, plating eggs and toast for me—at least it better be for me. I sidle up to the coffee pot and reach for a cup when Mason shakes his head,

“Yours is already on the table, álainn.”

I smile, and without thinking too much about it, I lean in and kiss him on the mouth. It’s just a peck, but Richard and Danny still make happy little gasping sounds behind us. I head over to the small table and see Richard is fanning his eyes and Danny is shaking his head.

“Come off it, lads,” Mason jokes, serving up more food.

“You two are just so cute together,” Richard chimes while pouring more coffee.

“Yeah, and clearly, you have chemistry if you know what I mean?” Danny winks at me, then elbows Richard in his side. They laugh, and I bury my face in my hands. I can’t do it. I can’t be a proud, modern, grown-ass adult. I’m so embarrassed, I might vomit.

“Laugh it up, ya jokers, but do it in private,” Mason jokes again. “We’re about to eat.” Both men sober up as Mason walks to the table with his plate.

“We’ll just leave you two alone then,” Richard offers, snagging a red plate off the counter and turning for the stairs.

Thank the good Lord they’re gone. Mason smiles and touches my knee under the table.

“Relax. It’s fine, they’re just having fun with us.”

“You’re right,” I nod, feeling a bit lame for being so embarrassed. I place my hands on my face again to cool the redness there.

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