Page 4 of Fun and Games
"I never say anything I don't mean," he replied.
With that simmering heat in his eyes, I knew exactly what getting a drink might lead to.
My heart thumped heavily in my chest, anticipation and nerves fighting for dominance.
Isn't this one of the reasons you came out tonight?my inner voice piped up.To let loose, to have fun?
That voice was right. Wasn't that the whole point of it all? Wasn't that the whole reason I was doing any of this?
To live life with no regrets?
I tossed Hottie Mason a flirty smile.
"I wouldn't say no to a margarita."
Two
When we'd beenat the bar with me in my high heels, I hadn't noticed how tall Mason was.
Now that I'd kicked off my shoes and the both of us were plastered together at the mouth, our height difference was glaringly obvious.
I stood on my tiptoes, trying to gain whatever extra inches I could as he pressed me up against the closed front door of his apartment.
As Mason's lips moved incessantly against mine, nearly taking the breath out of my lungs, a distant part of me wondered what I thought I was doing. I barely even knew the guy who had his tongue in my mouth.
Another, more urgent, part of me answered. I was kissing a total hottie. More than kissing. His hands were on my ass, cupping me and holding me against him. My hands were under his shirt, exploring the firm plains and valleys of his toned abs. Surely this qualified as more than kissing. We were full on making out.
Are you sure you know what you're doing?That distant voice grew closer.Are you sure you're cool hopping into bed with this guy?
It hadn't exactly been the plan when I agreed to go out to a bar with Samantha. I thought I'd have a drink or two while listening to her chatter about the people at the office. I certainly hadn't expected to meet a gorgeous guy with soft, light chestnut hair who sent my heart racing and my insides throbbing.
And his hair was soft, just as I had imagined it would be. With my fingers tangled in the thick strands at the back of his head, it was difficult to resist the urge to pet him. It was like a fluffy baby duck with its downy fuzz.
Mason's hands left my ass and came around to grip my hips.
"Are you petting me?" he murmured into my mouth, breaking our kiss long enough to make the amused inquiry.
"I like your hair," I replied. "It's soft."
"So I've been told." He didn't return to the kiss. Instead, he trailed his lips along my cheek and down my jaw to my throat. He placed a sucking kiss right at the junction of neck and shoulder.
"No hickeys," I warned, close to breathless.
"What if I leave a mark where no one will see?" he asked.
"And where exactly would that be?" I asked.
His hands wandered from my hips to caress the outside of my thighs, kneading and squeezing. Then he dragged his hands up my inner thighs, slipping under the hem of my dress. The heat of his fingers burned into my bare skin like a brand. He kept going, hands rising higher and higher. My legs trembled as I tried not to let them fall out from underneath me. He stopped mere inches away from where I was pulsing and throbbing.
"No one will find this hickey," he said. "I guarantee it."
My insides tingled at the promise.
"Come on," he said, removing his hands from under my dress and taking mine in his. "Let me show you."
I let him lead me through his apartment, down a hallway and into his bedroom. He turned on a lamp, and soft light filled the room. His bedspread was dark grey with matching pillows, and his bed was neatly made.
Those were the only observations I had time to make before he pulled me onto the bed with him. He buried a hand in my hair and devoured my lips, pressing me down into the mattress with his weight.
