Page 42 of Mason
“Really? I should have known better than to think offering to help Mason would go like I thought it would.” She looks up, a grim smile on her lips as I return to her, then edges away and slips under the warm spray of water.
I have to force myself to tear my eyes away from her beautiful body. With a reluctant sigh, I turn and lean against the wall facing away from her.
From behind me, she quietly says, “I went up there to try to help. I don’t know why he was flipping out, but he said he wanted to draw me. And when he told me to get undressed, I kinda knew that he was still upset.” She lets out a ragged sigh. “I knew it could get bad, but Iseehim. I understand there’s some sort of trauma he’s sustained. But he seemed equally panicked to see me in the attic among all of his artwork.” The moan that she lets loose as the water soothes her is enough to stir my dick to life.
Fucking hell. I’m not here to take advantage of this fucked-up situation. I grit out, “Yeah, that all makes sense. It wasn’t your fault, but I’ll be honest with you. That was the first I’ve been up there in probably two years. I’m not excusing his behavior, but Mason needs space to work through things sometimes.”
She’s quiet for several seconds, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, processing my thoughts. “There’s so much,” she whispers. “It’s never coming off.”
I peek over my shoulder to see black rivulets of water streaming from her body and rushing down the drain. She’s right. It might take a whole lot more than standing under the water to do the job properly. Running a hand over my jaw, I exhale. “Have you ever looked carefully at Mason’s hands? They’re sort of stained at the tips from all the hours he spends up there drawing.” I clear my throat, pushing off the wall. “I’ll just, uh, wait for you in the other room.”
“Bear. Wait.” Her voice is a desperate plea.
I turn, raising a brow, and eye her warily, keeping my eyes focused on hers. “Yeah?”
“Um, I can’t do this alone.” Her eyes crash shut. “Please help me. My back is covered. I might have let him do this, but I don’t have to allow it to sink into my skin.”
I inhale raggedly, turning toward her. After only a moment of inner debate, I grasp my T-shirt at the back of the collar and whip it off over my head in one smooth movement, then go for my belt, which clanks as I undo it. I notice her eyes on me as I pop the button of my jeans and lower my zipper. She’s gone for the soap, so now her skin is this foamy, bubbly gray mess. I bet it’s slick to the touch. And like fucking satin.
My head begins to buzz. Maybe it’s from a sudden lack of oxygen.
I have no idea how this is going to work, but I totally have a semi just from being in the room with her while she’s naked. Actually, that’s a lie. It started when I held her. I kept telling myself it’s a natural response. My jaw twitches, but I shove my pants down, anyway, and kick them to the side.
Getting into the shower with her, she glances down at my boxer briefs that are rapidly soaking through, her brow furrowing. I see the question in her eyes before she can ask. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
She draws in a breath and nods. “Okay, then. I can handle the front, I think, but I need you to wash my back, please.”
I bite down on my lip and hope like hell I can control myself. She hands me a bottle of shower gel.
Hesitantly, I watch as she uses her soapy hands directly on her skin. “Did you want me to use a washcloth or loofah or sponge or something?”
“Um. It’ll just ruin them, I think.” She pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “Don’t you?”
“Fuck, I have no idea.” My voice is way hoarser than I’d like, but I squirt a good amount of the soap into my palm and hand the bottle back to her. I inhale deeply as I rub my hands together, hoping the noise of the water pelting against the marble tiles is enough to cover my exaggerated exhale. “I’m going to start up here at your shoulders.”
I smooth the soap over her skin, letting my head fall back to stare up at the ceiling. I can do this. I’m just giving her a hand with all the places she can’t reach. I glance down, and my eyes track the gray-tinted water as it runs down her back and between her ass cheeks.Oh, dear fucking god.
Focusing on breathing carefully in through my nose, out through my mouth, I continue, moving my hands in a circular pattern, lathering the soap on her skin and removing the ugliness Mason has put there. Bitch. Tormentor. Devil.
Jesus.
Lennon’s movements have slowed, her hands moving over her breasts. A little moan escapes her lips.
Fuck.I blow out a breath, turning my head to the side, trying to focus on anything else. Unfortunately, the item my eyes land on is the bright-pink object on the shelf of her shower. It stands out like a sore thumb. A vibrator. I’m being tested, I really am. My hands lower, cleaning the slope of her back. I close my eyes, my voice rough like gravel as I ask, “Do you want me to wash your ass?”
“Um.” The word comes out breathy. “Y-yes.”
Fuck me, I’m going to hell.“I need more of the soap, please.”
She hands it back to me, and I squeeze some into my hand, giving the bottle back before I bring my soap-covered hands down, moving in slow, soft circles. Every circle gets progressively larger, until my thumbs are meeting right at the crack of her ass. I swallow hard, looking down. Her cheeks are completely clean of any charcoal residue, but I can’t bring myself to stop touching her.
Lennon draws in a breath, turning around to face me, and the look in her eyes—she’s desperate. “Bear, I need…”
My head bows, and I look up at her from under my wet lashes. “I’m trying to be the good guy. You’re making it really fucking hard for me.” The muscle at the back of my jaw twitches as I watch her. Her cheeks are bright pink, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s no longer from embarrassment but from arousal. Hell, by all accounts, she just had Mason’s dick inside her. And I suppose if Duke yanked him off her, maybe she’s still… all worked up. And now, here I am with my hands on all her wet, naked skin. I don’t think I blame her one bit. My heart thrums a punishing beat in my chest.
Her eyes beg me.Fuuuck.I don’t fucking care about anything leading up to this moment. I want her more than my next breath.
She scrapes her teeth over her full bottom lip, watching me, and when I don’t move—other than my dick jerking as it strains behind the front of my sopping-wet boxer briefs—she reaches over to the vibrator, switches it on… and brings it directly to her clit.
