Page 63 of Beneath the Surface

“You’rebeautiful,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to my lips.

A smile blooms on my face while I kiss him back, and suddenly a giggle escapes, forcing us to break apart and totally ruining the moment.

He leans back, a hint of a grin cracking his face. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” I laugh. “This is all just so cliche.”

His lips turn down like he’s offended, and I pull him back into me by his face, my fingers scratching against his jaw. “It’s perfect.” I rise up to kiss his pouty lips. “I’ve never had cliche before.”

His lips land on mine again and I sink into him, lost in his taste—in his attention. His arms lock behind me, and I break away, locking my gaze in his as I skim my fingers along his biceps. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grins, his eyes sparking.

My insides quake with possibility, and for the first time, I feel excited for the unknown.

And I fall a little deeper.

30

Mason

I’ve never been the dating type. Never been one who wooed a woman and promised them the world. Dating gives hope, and hope is something I’ve never had the urge to give. There’s only been one other person I’ve called mine, but even then, there wasn’t thisneedto make her feel cherished. Not the way there is with Lily.

It pisses me off that no one has ever taken care of her before now. When I show up to her place with a bouquet of roses I picked up at the corner store—the same one she goes to every week for groceries—her eyes light up like it’s the best gift she’s ever received.

I want to put that look on her face every day for the rest of my life, and that thought terrifies me more than it should, because I still haven’t figured shit out, and I know I’m running out of time.

“You ready to go?” I ask her.

She nods, and I grab her hand, pulling her behind me to the parking lot where my Harley sits.

“Are we going on that?” She waves her hand at my bike.

“Yeah, why?” Amusement sprinkles through my chest at the way she fidgets. “You’ve never been on one?”

She shakes her head, a small smile breaking over her face. “No, I have. Just don’t like them very much.”

Grabbing a helmet off the back and walking over to her, I place it in her hands. “Then you haven’t been riding them right.” I wink.

Her chest brushes against my stomach as she sucks in a breath and I close my eyes, willing my cock to calm down until after we get back. I’m determined to give her a night she’ll remember.Clichés included.

Truthfully, I don’t have anything spectacular planned, I just want to dote on her. Take her out and show her how she deserves to be treated.

I’ve reserved us a table at a small French restaurant right outside of Phoenix, next to a small lake where I plan to take her after, just to sit outside by the water and talk. A nice, normal night where she can let go of the weight she always carries on her shoulders and enjoy her time with me.Hopefully.

She climbs onto the back of my bike, and the heat of her body pressed against me sends a shot of desire curling through my insides. I look back and smirk. “Ready?”

She nods, the black helmet hiding her eyes from my view.

It’s a thirty-minute ride, and she’s silent, only the tightening of her arms around my waist reminding me she’s there in the first place. Pulling into the lot, I park and turn off the engine, my hands coming down on top of hers and squeezing.

She climbs off my bike, and I’m struck by the sight of her, unsure why it is that every moment spent in her presence makes me want to dive a little deeper. How is it that she getsmoreattractive the longer I stare? She pulls off her helmet, her dark locks mussed and tumbling down her back, giving her a freshly fucked look that makes my stomach flip and blood rush to my cock.

“What are you looking at?” She glances at her outfit, running her hands over the front of her shirt and down her dark jeans.

I stand up, walking to her, and draw her into me, running my tongue across her lips and reveling in her taste. “You, little bird. I’m always looking at you.”

She smiles against my mouth, her hands reaching up and wrapping around my neck. “You know, you’re much more romantic than I gave you credit for.”

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