Page 75 of Gin and Lava

“I have another one of cats in the same position. The name on the listing was pussy on pussy.” Mason beams.

I shake my head. “You look a little like you’re going to a funeral.”

“Or working at Flambé,” Mason corrects. “They wear black on black on black on black like they need to be invisible. I honestly think I could murder someone in this outfit and no one would notice.”

“If you murder me, be sure to save the dress,” I joke. “It’s worth my left ovary.”

Mason steps back to get a look at me in Andromeda’s rose gold masterpiece. “You look like a star.”

“That’s sweet, Mason,” I say with a blush.

“A gentleman and sweet?” Mason grimaces. “Iamgoing to have to wash your mouth out. Plus, it’s a star.” He points to my dress. “I’m supposed to be smart, right? Andromeda. It’s a galaxy. A star?” I give him a frown. “Never mind.” He reaches for my waist. “Am I allowed to touch it?”

“Me? Or the dress?”

“Both.” His hand hovers above my hip. “I mean, mostly the dress. I know I don’t get to handle you till later. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’ll be you handling me.”

“Eager for that massage, are you?”

“How long is this dinner?” He looks to the large doors of the restaurant, intricately carved with wooden knots and flowers like we’re about to travel back in time to a Polynesian palace.

“Long enough that, yes, you’ll need to get comfortable touching the merchandise,” I say, wrapping his arm around my waist. Mason softly touches the fabric, making my insides heat.

“It doesn’t feel like a donkey’s weight in gold,” Mason quips. “Amazing how one little tag can jack up the price of something.”

“No respect for art, huh?” I admonish. “Is that what you’ll say aboutmyjewelry too, if I were to become a famous designer?” I flash the pieces I’m wearing at him: a necklace and some earrings, one-hundred-percent Naomi originals.

“That’s different,” Mason grumbles, realizing my trick. “And those look really good with the dress.”

“These pieces of trash?” I joke, toying with the necklace and skewering him with a flirty look. “When did you become a connoisseur of high fashion, Mason?”

He grips my waist and twists me into him, pressing me so I’m flush with his chest. I bite my lip at how immediate our connection is, at how my body justreactsto him, despite the raunchy comments.

“I’m just trying to tell you that you look gorgeous,” Mason growls. “And I suppose the dress is nice too.”

“You insult fashion,” I quip.

Mason’s mouth dips to my ear. “You design a cock ring that makes my dick look as gorgeous as you in—or out—of that dress,” Mason tests, “and I’ll pay your crazy high price tag. Got it?”

“Oooh, are you going to be my cock model?” I nip his bottom lip. “I know you’ve got the tool for the job.”

“Be careful, Tate. You’re going to change the porn industry if you start classing up cocks,” Mason responds.

“That’s not exactly the market I was considering,” I say with a laugh.

“It’s an untapped market,” Mason points out. “Well,tappedin one manner of speaking.”

“TheI’m going to tap that assmanner?” I quip, snagging his lip and pulling him into a kiss. He falls effortlessly into me, letting me take the lead on how hot I want this to be. Considering the stress of setting up everything at the beach house, falling into Mason’s arms feels like a much-needed luxury.

My arms wrap around his neck and my face blossoms with heat as he kisses me back. It’s not needy or feverish with the desire to tear my clothes off, instead it’s slow and sexy. His exploration makes my spine arch in a half-dip as he clutches my hips, sparkles like champagne fizzling over my body. It’s the perfect kiss for an Andromeda dress, made of starshine and moondust, and all the other shining lights when galaxies are burning up.

“Naomi?”

Ice slashes through my body.

It stings in wicked contrast to the heat of Mason, because I know that voice. I’d recognize it anywhere: it’s Sam.

I pry myself from Mason and turn to see Sam stepping onto the sidewalk and looking at us curiously. My ex looks debonair in his dark slacks and a cream-colored suit jacket. His light brown hair is swept back with that fresh look like he walked out of a magazine and onto the sidewalk. He’s the kind of man who makes wearing a suit effortless as if he’d happily walk into an operating room wearing it as he performs surgery.

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