Page 76 of I Need You Tonight
Chapter 28
Nicole
While Mason slept in his room, I spent the time inmyhotel room, working on my laptop. Updating the band’s social media sites. Organizing the Christmas contest for their Instagram account. Finalizing plans for Blooming Love’s grand reopening. Sketching possible designs to etch on glassware, none of which so far felt right, meaningful, or special. Nothing that would stand out.
An hour before we were due to leave for the radio interview, I still hadn’t heard from Mason. I sent him a text, in case he’d forgotten to tell me he was up. Five minutes later, having still not heard from him, I walked to his room and let myself in with my key card.
At first I thought Mason was still sleeping, because the room was dark. But then the light from the open doorway spilled onto him and glinted off the beer bottle in his hand as he paced. The only clothing he had on were his jeans; his feet and chest were bare.
“Hi,” I said tentatively, and entered the room. He didn’t appear to notice me. He just kept walking back and forth, like a caged tiger. I’d seen him like this before a concert, before I gave him his good-luck kiss, except this time something seemed really off.
I clicked the door shut. “We’re leaving in an hour for the radio interview,” I said, flipping on the light switch. Only then did he look up. The caged look instantly changed to heat—and before I knew it, Mason had me on the bed, my clothes on the floor with his jeans.
Unlike the last time we were together, the sex was purely physical. There was no love in his actions, just the desire to bang out his need and frustration. He tasted of beer and the lingering smell of smoke still clung to him.
Once he was finished, his orgasm coming shortly after mine, he collapsed onto the bed, a great divide now between us. His arm covered his eyes, as if he now didn’t want to see me. That felt like a stab in my heart. My brain told me to not be so stupid. He was still upset about his father’s death and about what had happened yesterday. If he had to use me for sex this one time, that was fine. I would do whatever I could to help him get over his pain.
I scooted over and kissed his chest. Then I rested my head over his heart, as I’d done before. But Mason didn’t touch me like he usually did, and that ripped a gaping hole inside me.
I forced a soft, understanding smile onto my face and sat up. “You should have a shower now and get ready.”
Normally at the suggestion of a shower, he would try to convince me to join him—usually for another round of sex. This time he just shrugged and said, “I guess.” He got out of bed, grabbed the half-empty beer bottle from the nightstand, and headed for the bathroom.
And for the first time since entering the room, I noticed the four empty bottles scattered throughout the room. That wasn’t to say he had never drunk beer in the afternoon, because he had. But it had usually been with the guys, and not while he was supposed to be sleeping.
Unable to sit still, I opened the curtains and straightened up the room while I waited for Mason to finish showering.
When he came out of the bathroom, my breath stopped short in my chest at the sight of his muscular, half-naked body. Water drops trailed down his gorgeous brown skin, further emphasizing his sexiness. My gaze followed one lucky droplet as it traveled between his pecs, down his taut stomach, and under the towel wrapped low around his hips.
“Like what you see?” Mason asked, his deep, rough voice the epitome of sexiness. The sound of it short-circuited my brain.
I stepped closer to him, my fingers itching to reach out and yank the towel free. “Maybe.”
“How long till we have to leave?” The towel shifted. There was definitely activity happening under it.
I checked the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Twenty-five minutes.”
Mason closed the space between us. His beer breath had been converted to minty freshness. “I need you, Nicole. I need to be inside you.” His voice was a seductive murmur against my cheek, yet it held a note of tenderness that had been missing before his shower.
His lips skimmed down my cheek and found their way to my mouth. He gently nipped my lower lip between his teeth and sucked on it. My breath hitched and I welcomed him in.
Unlike earlier, he took his time…not that we had much. I freed him from the confines of his towel and let it drop to the floor. He had my T-shirt off in a matter of seconds. My bra came off next, thanks to Mason’s talented fingers—he could teach a course on how to unhook a girl’s bra in less than a second.
Mason palmed my breasts, heating them with his touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts into his hands. He pinched my nipples, and the ache between my legs begged for its turn. I rubbed against him, denim against raw man.
He groaned and removed his hands from my breasts, then with a quick flick of his fingers unhooked the button of my jeans and slid the zipper down. I could almost hear the clock mocking me from the bedside table, reminding me we didn’t have a lot of time before we had to leave. While Mason wasn’t moving as slowly as he had when he’d made love to me, he was definitely moving too slowly given that we had to leave soon.
It was as if he didn’t want to go to the interview. Couldn’t say I blamed him.
After peeling my jeans off and tossing them to the side, he slipped his fingers between my legs. “Christ, you’re already ready for me,” he said.
And that was my problem. Spending so much time with him meant I was ready for him most of the time. I just had to look at him and my heart raced, my body begged for his touch.
His fingers cupped my sex and began exploring. I gasped, then let my fingers do their own exploration of his body.
“I need to taste you,” he groaned. “Lie down and let me taste you.”
Something about his tone gave me pause. “You remember you have the interview, right?”
