Page 95 of Enemies with Benefits
As much as I felt bad and a little embarrassed that the four had read the reaction on my face perfectly, it was overwritten by the anger and frustration boiling in my head. What I wanted to do was march over and knock that stupid smirk off his face. A smirk I knew all too well because it was the one he usually pulled out when he was getting ready to drive me crazy in a far different, entirely more enjoyable way. Jesus, I wasn'tthatfar from him, and he was going to stand there and basically undress the two women, ignoring that he was supposed to have come here with me?
It wasnotjealousy, I knew that damn much. I was just pissed because it was disrespectful, and after spending time around oneanother, I’d earned some degree of respect from him. I'd come here because I wanted to see what kind of place deserved the care and attention he’d clearly poured into it, and I was being left by the curb like unwanted garbage.
But no, I wasn't going to march over there, I wasn't going to make an ass out of myself and create another show for all the rubberneckers in the club. What I did instead was down the rest of my drink, feeling how sour my mood had becomethatquickly. No one could piss me off quite like Mason fucking Beckett. I slammed the glass down and made for the front doors. Driving back to Cresson Point was out of the question; the alcohol in my system made that more than apparent, but I had money, so I could get a room to sober up in and leave in the morning.
There was a shout from behind me as I reached the doors that sounded a lot like my name, and I ignored it as I continued outside. There was only one person who might have bothered trying to call out to me, but he could shout all he wanted. All that mattered was getting outside and finding my way out of here as I marched around the building. It was only when I reached the back that I realized I had been operating on autopilot and had returned to his bike. Not only was I not going to try to drive that thing even if I were sober, but he had the keys. My only option was to turn around and try to get a ride to a hotel that wouldn’t end up with me getting robbed in the parking lot.
Except when I turned around, there was Mason, who had the audacity to glare at me like he was the one who had the right to be pissed. "Jesus fucking Christ, why the fuck did you go stomping off like someone took your favorite toy from you?"
"Fuck off," I growled, knowing that if I wanted to get out of the alley, he was either going to have to move or I was going to have to make him. "You clearly had your own 'toys' you were ready to play with. Leave me alone."
"Toys?” he wondered and then snorted, which just pissed me off further because he was trying to make me feel stupid. "The women? What the fuck, what, are you jealous?"
"Fuck you," I snapped, and even I could sense it was too quick, too heated to be anything but shame wrapped in anger. "I'm not jealous of anything you fucking do. But I thought we were...you know what? Fuck you. I don't have to answer to you. If I wanna fucking leave, then that's what I'm going to do. I don't have to explain myself to the great Mason Beckett."
"Fucking...you're acting like a child," he snapped, stepping closer and purposefully angling himself so I couldn't slip past him, which only pissed me off more. "A drunken child. If I'd known you were going to turn into an asshole when you drank, I wouldn't have let you have one."
I wasnotacting anywhere close to how my father did, I wasnot. "Go to hell, Mason. Go back in there and have your threesome or whatever. Just leave me out of it. I shouldn't have asked to come here in the first place. You're an asshole and you're always going to be an asshole."
"Really? That's how you want to play it?” he snapped, and I couldn't help the confusion that flashed through me. "Because if you think I didn't see the way Blondie was practically hanging off you for the past couple of hours, then you must think I'm fucking stupid."
Couple of hours? Damn, had it really been that long? Then again, that would explain why I’d managed to have a few drinks and why it seemed like it had been forever since I'd last seen him.
He saw the look on my face and scoffed. “There is no way even you are that dense."
"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, coming back to reality and giving him a push. "Move out of my way or so help me?—"
"What? You'll hit me? We've done that song and dance too many times for me to give a flaming fuck what you threaten me with," he growled, giving me a push in return, harder than the one I'd given him.
"Fucking…" I flung my fist at him, but he was ready and weaved around it, grabbing my arm and using it to swing me into the wall of the alley. Air rushed out of my lungs, and I fought to get it back, but he was already there, giving me another push and making my head bounce off the wall. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to make me blink in confusion.
"Blondie was practically ready to throw you on a table and ride you for all to see, and you want to stand there and act like a little bitch because I was talking to a couple of people?"
"Talking? She was ready to go wrist deep in your pants," I said, shoving my head forward and catching him in the mouth with my forehead before surging forward and sending both of us careening into a stack of boxes that rained dust, dirt, and leaves onto our heads.
His fist hit my gut. “And I would have stopped her. I was being friendly because that's what you do when you work a bar."
"Sure as fuck…" My fist hit his cheek, and the next meant for his stomach was diverted. "Looked like more than that!"
"That's bar work," he said, missing my leg with his kick for the most part, but still good enough to force me back so he could come at me. "Try having a personality, and you might find more people acting like that around you."
"Blondie sure didn't seem to give a fuck apparently," I grabbed him and spun him around, slamming him into the wall. I dropped my leg between both of his and shoved my hip against him to pin him.
"So you admit it," he said, wriggling as he tried to figure out how to get out of my hold. "He was on your nuts so goddamn hard I'm surprised you don't have rug burn."
"You know what? All four of them wanted me to fuck them," I admitted, shoving against him harder when he tried to break free. "And I told them no. So, fuck you."
He panted for a moment, his eyes narrowed as his gaze swept over my face, before his expression went stiff. I frowned, trying to figure out what his new problem was when he wiggled again, but this time only his lower body, and not in desperation but on...purpose? Which was when I felt the familiar tingle of pleasure as he pressed against me. I'd been so preoccupied by our fight I hadn't noticed that somewhere along the line, I’d grown hard. And not even just a little hard, buthard.
"And here we find ourselves again," he said, and Ihatedthat knowing smirk on his face. The one that said the fight was over because we’d come full circle all over again. The smile that said, 'Yeah, you're pissed, but that doesn’t matter right now, does it? Because you're hard, I'm hard, and we both know where this is going, don't we?' And I hated him for it, I hated myself for having proven him right so many times in the past that he was comfortable believing that without a shred of doubt.
Well fuck that. Maybe he would have been willing to tell those women to back off if they pushed things further. That didn't change the fact that he hadn't bothered to let me know he was back, to give me the choice to continue hanging out with Ryan and his group, or to come back and spend time with Mason. Because yes, that had been my plan all along, even if I hadn't wanted to admit it. I had wanted to spend time with him, and the fucker had clearly not been as invested in spending time with me.
So, no, he was wrong. I wasn't going to give in to the bullshit again. He'd caught me off guard in the beginning, but I wasn't that same person. I wasn't so in denial that when the feelings got strong, there was no way to resist them. I knew now that I was some variety of bi, and that I was attracted to Mason evenif that attraction caused me more confusion and frustration than anything else. I had enough knowledge about myself to be able to tell him no, to let go of him and walk away, taking the exit from the alley and finding a ride to a hotel.
Fuck this, and everything to do with Mason fucking Beckett.
My distraction proved to be the undoing of that plan as he got his hand free from between us and brought it up, grabbing the back of my head with a fierce grip. My surprise made me slack as he yanked me toward him and slammed our mouths together. The savagery of the kiss swept through me in alternating jolts of anger and arousal that took hold of my senses even more tightly than his hand.
