Page 163 of Twisted Trails
Mason huffs like we’re testing his patience. “No, we don’t, we’re already late. Luc, just wear a damn hoodie. You always look hot, and you know it.”
We told the crew we’d just grab a quick shower and freshen up after qualifying so we could all hit dinner together, and welp, we’re already late. I may or may not be the reason.
Mason qualified first, which probably explains why he’s a smug bastard tonight. I came in third, right behind Raine, and yeah, it bugged me a little, but honestly, I can’t bring myself to care that much this season.
Either I take the four overalls in a row or I don’t. I’ll get my fourth one eventually. I know that.
Maybe it’ll feel even better when I win it riding for Alaina’s team.
That would be the fucking dream.
I turn to him, annoyed and still half-naked. “I don’t wanna wear pink tonight.”
Without missing a beat, Mason peels his hoodie off. The fabric clings to his shirt underneath, pulling it up, and both Alaina and I go still.
Becauseputain.
That sliver of his stomach, those sharp hips, the soft trail of hair? Fucking lethal. Alaina snickers when she glances over at me, catching me almost drooling at our boyfriend.
Merde,ourboyfriend.
Mason holds his hoodie out to me. “Here. I’ll wear a pink one.”
I narrow my eyes. “You just want one of my hoodies.”
He doesn’t even deny it. Instead, he steps closer, grabs my chin, and pulls me in, as he murmurs, “If I wanted one of your hoodies for the sake of it, I’d just make you give it to me.”
Shit.
My breath stutters, and I feel his words everywhere, tight in my gut, twitching in my jeans. “You making me hard doesn’t make us leave any faster.”
Not when I’m still thinking about him fucking me so deep I saw stars, gripping my hips and moaning my name into my neck when he spilled into me.
Getting split open by Mason Payne? That’s a fucking experience I’d love to repeat, even if I couldn’t sit right the next day.
He grins, reaches down, and cups me over my fly like heowns the place. “Hard indeed. What do you think, Bambi? Do we need to help our boy before we go eat?”
“I mean,sure.” She laughs, eyes flicking between us. “But the others are gonna have to wait.”
I’m already pulling my phone from my pocket, thumbing out a text to Otis, since he’s the one babysitting my son.
Go without us. Start eating. We’ll catch up.
Otis responds in seconds.
Otis
Horndogs.
I chuckle and toss my phone on the bed. “Where were we?”
Mason pushes at my bare chest until my legs hit the edge of the bed, and I sit without resistance. He’s already sinking to his knees in front of me, and fuck, the look in his eyes is pure sin.
“We were about to handle your little problem.”
“Nothing about that problem islittle,” Alaina says from behind Mason, sounding more sarcastic than flirtatious.
I take it as a compliment anyway and flash her a grin. “Merci,Petite.”
