Page 29 of I Need You Tonight
Chapter 11
Nicole
The world wasn’t just black and white. It also contained various shades of gray. And right now, with my lips attached to Mason’s, we were smack-dab in the middle of the gray zone.
What did I know? That Mason was my brother’s friend and I shouldn’t be kissing him. He was leaving tomorrow, which was another reason for not kissing him. But I also knew he wasn’t the dating type, so as long as there were no expectations between us after tonight, there was no harm in this kiss. And judging from the way he was kissing me back, he was fully on board with the plan.
The kiss alternated between slow and delicious, then fast and hot. It was everything you could possibly want in a kiss—except for one thing.
At the sound of my stomach, which put the rumble of a thunderstorm to shame, Mason chuckled. “How about I make us dinner?”
“You sure?” I liked to cook, but from what I’d tasted of Mason’s food, I liked his cooking even more.
“Positive. Why don’t you walk Bernie and I’ll get started after a quick shower?”
“Sounds good to me,” I said, lifting myself off Mason.
Over an hour later, after I’d walked Bernie and soaked my weary body in the shower, we sat down at the kitchen table for the best spaghetti and meatballs I’d ever tasted.
“So,Die Hard with a Vengeancetonight?” Mason asked.
“Naturally.” I popped a meatball into my mouth and closed my eyes as I chewed it. “Mmm. Oh God. This is so amazing.” That was the third time I’d said it, but it was the first time I sounded like I was racing toward an orgasm.
I opened my eyes to find Mason watching me with smoldering eyes. Heat and wetness flooded my core, and I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.
“Glad you’re enjoying it,” he said, that goddamn sexy smirk of his back to tease me.
“Definitely enjoying it.” I returned my attention to my food. One more night and then he’d be gone, and I would be back to…
To what? To more mindless dates while waiting for Mr. Right to show up?Go me.
After we finished our meal and cleaned up the dishes, we retired to the living room for the lastDie Hardmovie we’d get to watch together.
The movie started out well—other than the part where I couldn’t focus on it. All I could notice was the man sitting next to me, the way he smelled, the way he filled out his jeans and T-shirt, the way he laughed.
The way my body felt alive when I was around him.
As if unconsciously sensing my dilemma, Mason leaned closer to me. His warm breath brushed against my ear. I turned to him, and before I could say anything, his mouth was on mine. And because I had already proven I had no willpower when it came to Mason’s kisses, my lips immediately parted for him.
Our kisses were rough, hungry, impatient. Sublime. His stubble brushed against my face and I moaned at the delicious sensation of it. He deepened the kiss.
My body took over, not interested in my brain having any say as to what would happen next. Shifting my leg, I straddled his hips, our mouths remaining locked together. If they could have stayed that way for the rest of my life, I would’ve been more than okay with that.
Again, my body ignored what my brain was telling it, and I ground my core against Mason’s hardening length. Good—I wasn’t the only one dealing with a lust-heightened body.
Mason’s lips moved from mine, but before I could tell him not to stop kissing me, his mouth moved to my jaw and the stubble on his face brushed against my skin again. And that made the ache between my legs beg breathlessly for relief.
His mouth continued forward, his warm breath caressing my ear. “Christ, I want to touch you. All of you.” If I burned any hotter at his words, fire trucks would be the only things capable of extinguishing the flames.
I made a sound that was closer to a squeak than a moan. Up until this point, Mason’s hands had been on my hips. Now one trailed along my side, skimming my tank top until it reached my breast. He lightly scraped a thumb against my nipple, and I sucked in a hard breath.
I expected his mouth to return to mine. Instead, his fingers, which had been resting on my hip, slipped under the fabric of my top and slowly slid it up, up, up, revealing my stomach…and then my breasts. A moment later, my bra was open, Mason having easily clicked open the front clasp.
At Mason’s hungry scrutiny, his eyes dark with desire, my panties grew even wetter. Reverently he circled a fingertip around one nipple. The bud tightened greedily with need. “So perfect,” he uttered. “So goddamn perfect.”
He leaned down and his tongue replaced his finger. Then he sucked my nipple into his mouth and teased it further. And for a second, I wondered what else his talented tongue could do.
While he was entertaining himself with my breasts, I ran my hands up his solid arms. He worked out, that much I could tell. Every inch of him was taut, pure male muscle. Eager to see his abs again and to finally touch them, I moved my hands to the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled the fabric up, caressing the ridges and valleys of his ripped abs with my fingertips.
