Page 11 of Gin and Lava

“You’re cruel.”

“You like it.”

“If you’re asking me to be your submissive, the answer’s yes.”

“Oh?” Her eyes light up teasingly. “You imagining me wielding leather whips and dominatrix outfits?”

“I am now. Geez.” I step closer to her and squeeze out the air between us. “Plus, we already covered what happens when you talk dirty.”

Her breath hitches and my hand falls to her hip.

Surprisingly, Naomi doesn’t remove it.

In fact, her eyes fall to my mouth again, and fuck, if I wasn’t drunk I’d think she might actually want me to—

But Iamdrunk.

Cause there’s no way Naomi Tate is looking at me like she wants me.

4

NAOMI

The fabric of my dress isn’t thick enough to mask the weight of Mason’s hand on my hip.

Gentle.

Hot.

Burning into my side.

I should tell him to remove it.

There are a hundred things in my life that Ishoulddo. I should call my mom. I should work out in the morning so the wedding cake doesn’t go to my ass. I should like at least one of the guys I went out with in the last six months. And I definitelyshouldn’tfind Mason as amusing as I have. But suddenly, everything I think I should do feels like a recipe for disaster, and maybe the best choice is to do the complete opposite.

Maybe I shouldn’t ignore the fact that Mason’s mouth is really close to mine, and seemingly quite kissable, and—

“That’s an amazing necklace,” Mason says, breaking the moment, his hand dropping from my hip. He moves it toward the piece of jewelry that dangles between my breasts.

I flinch.

“Woah, hold your horses, Tate. I’m not going to touch you,” Mason reassures me, lifting his hands up like he did something he shouldn’t. “I’m just looking at the art.”

“Isartyour code word for tits?” I ask, nodding to where my necklace dangles, happy that we’re back in the safety zone of exchanging witticisms, rather than wondering if I might’ve actually leaned in and brushed my mouth against Mason’s.

“You’re on to me, aren’t you?” he smiles, before delicately plucking up the gold chain at my collar bone. A zip of electricity shoots through my chest as the jewelry brushes across my skin, making my nipples harden.

Damn weddings. They make a girl feel desperate.

“This is really nice,” Mason says, rubbing his fingers over the design at the bottom of an abstract leaf shape set with three gemstones.

“Yeah? You really think so?” I ask, far too interested. Nobody ever asks about my work. Not that they know it’s mine.

“I mean, it’s not as good as the art.” Mason nods to my tits. “But still pretty awesome. Where’d you get this?”

“Are you into jewelry, Mason?” I ask, not sure why I’m pushing him away on this topic.

“Well, I’m thinking about piercing my cock, but this looks too pretty to be hanging between my balls.”

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