Page 28 of Hidden Resolution
“Christ!” he swore.
“Sorry. You looked so serious.” She laughed.
“Yeah. I have a lot on my mind.” He shifted to make room.
“Anything you care to talk about?”
He smoothed the small furrow between her brows and gave her a lackluster smile. “No.”
Thankfully, she let it go. Had she pressed, he’d have hightailed it out of there faster than a lazy cat blinks. Mason didn’t exactly fear honesty, but getting all touchy-feely about his emotions was a big nope.
“In that case, let’s get this show on the road,” she purred, cupping him.
Her take-charge attitude triggered an immediate response, and Shonda laughed softly at the effect on his body. The deep, throaty sound made him harder.
Mason needed space.
Needed to not stare into her soulful eyes and lose what little detachment he still had.
“Face the tile and spread your legs,” he ordered, voice gravel-low.
She complied with a slow toss of her head, sensual and unhurried.
The liquid soap in his hands became a tool of seduction. He smoothed it over her curves and slicked his palms across her hips, her thighs, her breasts. Her moans echoed off the tile.
Mason bent, lifted one of her legs to the shower bench, and stepped in behind her. He teased her entrance with the head of his cock, coaxing out another breathy moan.
Her head dropped back to rest on his shoulder, and he seized the moment to nip at her throat. His tongue traced the line of her collarbone, his hands working over her breasts, teasing until her nipples were tight little peaks.
“Please. Now,” she panted.
God, he loved how responsive she was. But the devil in him wasn’t about to give in easily. He bent her forward slightly, hands roaming over the swell of her ass. He found her folds, slick and ready, then ran one finger in tight circles over her clit.
Her moan turned into a strangled cry, and as he inserted his fingers into the welcoming heat of her vagina, her climax hit. He felt her contract around him, her thighs shaking with the force of it.
Before she recovered, he entered her. Slow. Deep. Thrusting on repeat until she whimpered, with her body arching back against him. His steady rhythm drove them higher, and she braced her hands on the marbled wall.
Mason tightened his grip on her hips, pausing for the slightest moment to catch his breath and appreciate the beautiful sight she presented. The glorious, graceful curve ofher back and neck, the soft, creamy skin, pink from the water’s warmth.
He drew back before sinking into her, pushing as much as she could take. She came again, gasping and chanting “yes” with each thrust. Her screamed release shattered what little control remained, and he followed her over the edge.
They washed quickly, panting and spent.
As they stepped out, she asked, “Still interested in dinner, or would you prefer to order in? There’s a great little Chinese place not far from here that delivers.”
The part of him trying to avoid anything intimate—like dinner at her place—overruled her suggestion. “Go ahead and get dressed. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take you out.”
She gave him a small, flickering smile, and he couldn’t help noticing the hesitation.
He wondered at her lack of enthusiasm. Most women he knew would be giddy over a reservation at Luigi’s, but Shonda just looked… tired.
“Or I can go if you’re too exhausted,” he offered.
“Nope. All good. Give me a few minutes to recover and dress.”
By the time she emerged from the bedroom, Mason was buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, his hair damp and tousled.
Shonda had selected a fitted burgundy sweater dress and dark hose, keeping her makeup minimal. Adding only enough to hide the red tinge around her eyes. Expensive jewelry elevated the look, enhancing her natural, yet classy appeal.
