Page 20 of Gin and Lava

And she’s staring at me like she wants—

What the hell is happening?

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” I ask, still holding my hands up and away from her body. “This is a prank. Connor and Ned put you up to this, didn’t they?”

She smiles and reaches up to take my hands, lowering them to her hips. “I might be three words away from fucking you, Mason Haas.”

“What?” I scrunch up my face, delirious with the fact that she’s pressing my hands against her like she wants me to touch her. “Didn’t I say something like that earlier at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, is this—” I shake my head. This doesn’t make sense. Yes, Naomi’s in my lap. Yes, she’s straddling me. But it’s the fire in her eyes that doesn’t seem fake. Her eyes are pleading for me to do something naughty—forusto do something naughty—like there’s a dirty girl inside her that’s hungry for a taste of the Mason-freak-train.

“Mason, are you saying you don’t want to—?”

“Naomi!” I interrupt, shaking my head. “You’re a fucking goddess. I would never say no to you. Ever. It’s just Connor’s the one who normally gets beautiful women to hook up with him, and I’m the asshole who—”

But then, her hands are on my shoulders and her chest falls forward against mine, and I don’t know how, or why, or what universe this is, but—

Naomi kisses me.

6

NAOMI

Mason’s lips are soft and pliable and responsive.

Of course, he’s shocked.

I’ve been saying this isn’t happening to him all evening, so it’s no surprise that tension is knotted throughout his limbs. He thinks this is a prank. But after a second of trepidation, he decides to give in to the fact that this is happening and kisses me back.

Electricity shoots through my extremities. It’s like I’ve touched a third rail of sensation and my whole body turns on with the shock and excitement of our mouths connecting.

I deepen the kiss and Mason laces a hand through my hair, sweetly nudging me closer. Only, nothing about this feels sweet. This is a palpable heat. It’s a charge made hotter by his surprise, and made even more intense by the wicked way I’m straddling him.

Plus, we’re in my truck. Mason’s house is right outside my door, but I don’t want to deal with the formality of that. I want us getting dirty in this cab. Maybe that’s just hormones, or the two of us being the only single people at a wedding, but kissing Mason in my truck unleashes a needy part of me that I’m usually so careful to keep locked up.

I’m always trying to be just so … perfect.

Snag the perfect man.

Live the American dream.

Be the woman from the magazine ad.

And frankly, it’s exhausting. Something about Mason is freeing. He chips away at the armor I’ve built, begging for the woman inside me who’s turned on by the idea of having sex in her truck.

Mason can’t believe I’m grinding my pelvis against this crotch like a wild temptress. And maybe, I can’t believe it too. But I’m more excited than I’ve been in ages. My core is on fire and I’m thrumming with anticipation, buzzing with need, ready to shed all my inhibitions, and give into every dirty thing Mason might suggest of me.

I don’t want to question this.

My bodywantsMason.

My mouth opens and I slide my tongue between his teeth. He tastes like champagne and something darker and more masculine, something entirely Mason. He stops resisting and takes my tongue, hard and hot, his arms snaking around my back to where the dress is open.

His fingers cascade across my bare skin, tracing between my shoulder blades. His touch is gentle in a completely non-Mason way. His hands aren’t brash and dirty like the things he says, instead they’re careful and deliberate, cupping and stroking my skin with wicked attention. Ripples of heat race through my body, and a heathen moan escapes from my lips.

I feel him everywhere.

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