Page 63 of Mason
Warren glances her way, then back at me. “I think we keep Lennon out of it, honestly. It’ll only cause problems here in the house.”
“What the fuck? I’d buy her. It’s for charity. Come on, sweet cheeks.” Tucker swivels his head in Lennon’s direction. “I’d pay a pretty penny to have those lips wrapped around my cock.”
Lennon arches a sassy brow and flips him off. “You wish.”
“Fuckin’ case in point, dickhead.” Mason’s jaw clenches, and I notice Bear’s entire body stiffening.
Honestly, I’m no better. It hadn’t occurred to me that anyone would suggest Lennon be involved. Maybe it should have, based on what they’ve heard coming out of my own damn mouth.
Fuck.
THIRTY-TWO
LENNON
I wakeup with visions of Quincy and Arik, who I’ve begun to think of as a unit in my head—Q&A, haha—wearing those awful teeny tiny panties last night. Shuddering, I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Tucker may have been right about one thing. Brain bleach might be necessary to rid me of the image in my head.
Fucking Tucker, though. He’d given me a look from across the patio that had me feeling completely slimy. No one else saw him, but it’d left me with zero doubt that if he were in charge here, he’d have demanded I be in the auction. And he’d probably have rigged it to ensure he’d be the highest bidder. I wouldn’t have had a choice in any of it.
Not that I think I had a choice tonight, either, but in reverse, if that makes sense. If I’d saidyes, I’ll do it,I think at the very least, Bear would have put a stop to it. Probably Mason, too. And even though Duke wouldn’t even look me in the eye after their poolside meeting, I actually think he would have put his foot down as well. He might say shit that makes me want to punch him in the face, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s a cover. A front.
My mind rolls back to my locked-in misadventure two days ago. When Duke opened that door and I’d jumped into his arms… he’d held me so tightly and whispered soft words of reassurance. It sure as hell hadn’t felt like he hated me. I haven’t said a damn thing to him, but he slipped up that day.
He called me baby. And it’d made memelt.
Too bad it hadn’t taken him long to revert to asshole-stepbrother mode. Bleary-eyed, I glance at my phone. It’s ten. I haven’t slept that well in a long time.
After brushing my teeth and showering, I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and sweep my long hair off my neck, securing it on top of my head.
A knock sounds on my door, and my brow furrows. I hurriedly adjust the pen in my hair and head out of the bathroom toward the bedroom door.
“Lennon?” It’s Bear. My face flushes. The things that guy can do with his tongue…
“Coming.”
He opens the door before I can get to it and pokes his head in. “Hey. Morning. I wasn’t sure if you were up or not, so I thought I’d check before I left for campus.”
My brow furrows. He’s acting weird. “I’m up. What’s going on?”
He slips into the room and stands stock-still with both hands behind his back. “Are you coming to the game later?”
“Oh. I assumed I was, but maybe that was dumb of me. Am I not supposed to be there? Just tell me.”
A smile breaks out on his face, and he closes the distance between us. “I was hoping you would come, yeah. I should have said something sooner.” He stares down at me, taking a good ten seconds to study every feature. It makes my heart flutter in my chest. He reaches up, taking a tendril of hair and tucking it behind my ear. From there, his fingers glide along my jaw before he catches my chin and tips my face to his. “Lennon, it would make me very happy if you came to watch me play today.”
I draw in a breath, staring into his eyes before I place my hands flat on his abs, and rock up onto my tiptoes. He still has to lean down and duck his head to reach me, but his lips caress mine for a moment before his tongue flicks out. With a desperate gasp, I open for him, accepting the stroke of his tongue into my mouth as easily as I breathe air. He brings his other arm around my back, lifting me almost off my toes, and crushing me to him. A throaty growl rumbles from him that has my fresh underwear quickly dampening. There’s something about his size, his heat. The knowledge that he’d protect me from anything or anyone. It sends something primal coursing through me. He deepens the kiss, his big hand sliding down to my ass, where he grabs hold and brings my lower body fully against his. His cock nudges my belly, stoking a fire there, embers of need and desire spark and flare to life.
He tastes like cinnamon, like my favorite flavor of lollipop. I pull away smiling, and then my brows dart together as he brings something out from behind my back. “What’s this?”
A hint of color touches his cheeks, which I can’t say I’ve ever seen before on his usually confident face. He pulls back, letting the shirt unfold until I see that it’s a Kingston University Lions football T-shirt. “I thought maybe you’d like a little school spirit to wear to the game.”
I grin, looking over the bold face of the lion mascot. “I’d love to.”
“It’s one of mine. I shrunk it by accident and haven’t worn it since. I really want you to wear it. Is that weird?”
“No. But you promise you wore it?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. Probably three years ago, back when I was a freshman and doing laundry on my own for the first time ever.” He huffs out a laugh. “I’ve learned since then that one-hundred percent cotton means it’s gonna shrink and to get a bigger size.”
