Page 5 of Gin and Lava

“Fine,” I nod. “But can you focus on dancing instead of talking bullshit? Maybe?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps,” he offers, taking my hand as he starts to pull me toward the dance floor.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to tongue my palm,” I joke.

“Consent, Naomi,” he tosses back. “I’m not going to put my tongue anywhere you don’t ask.” He twirls me dramatically, before pulling me close and wrapping one of his arms around my back. It’s surprisingly smooth for a guy with a potty mouth.

“Wow, Mason,” I compliment. “That was a good move.”

“I’m deliberately refraining from saying all the sex jokes shooting through my head at that comment.” He positions my hands: one around his shoulders, the other in his free hand. It’s like he’s used to dancing.

“Wow,” I admonish, “you want a gold star.”

“No, I’d prefer a blow job.”

“Well, that didn’t last long.”

“That’s what she said.”

I laugh, shaking my head at him. “I don’t think that’s how the ‘that’s what she said’ joke is supposed to work. The intention should be toenhanceyour sexual prowess with your comment.”

Mason shrugs. “I tell it like it is. Sometimes you just blow your wad.”

“Dang, Mason,” I say mockingly, fanning my face dramatically. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“I know it’s not going to happen, Naomi. You’re a freaking goddess. If I get half a dozen dances out of you for the night, I’ll be impressed with myself. But yes, I’ll definitely go home and masturbate to the idea of us fucking like rabbits.”

“Wow, that’s an image.”

“No, it’s not.” He twirls me, then pulls me closer when he draws me back in. “Everyone says fucking like rabbits. It’d be an image if I was to say I want to—”

I slap my hand over his mouth again.

“Leave something to the imagination, Mason.”

“You don’t think that was all about my imagination?”

“Give a girl some room to want to be with you,” I reply. “Otherwise, yeah, it won’t last long.”

His eyes narrow at me, like he isn’t sure if I’m trying to give him advice, or if I mean I need some room to decide if I like him or not. A wick of heat streaks through me and I look away. I’m not supposed to react to Mason. He’s an ass. And yet my body is wondering if he wouldn’t be a halfway decent lay. He’s actually quite a good dancer.

When I look back at him, he’s still staring at me. His face is dark and broody, and fuck me backwards, it’s actually kind of hot.

“Naomi Tate,” Mason shakes his head and makes a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue. “… it’s not nice to be a tease.” His voice is light like he’s making a joke of it, but something in his eyes is heavy. “I know I’m an easy target, but evenIhave feelings.”

2

MASON

“What did the hurricane say to the coconut tree?” I ask Olivia’s grandmother as we stand on the outside patio looking out at the ocean.

Flambé is on the rooftop of the Atlantis Resort and it has a view of the entire Waikiki Bay. Nanna Reese gives me a naughty smile, her eyes twinkling behind her red glasses as I set up the joke. She’s been reveling in my dirty jokes ever since Connor and I gave our best man speech earlier, and now that the wedding is winding down, she’s been laughing non-stop for a solid fifteen minutes, which for me is a life-time record.

“Hold on to your nuts,” I say, delivering the punchline, “this ain’t no ordinary blowjob.”

The woman cracks up.

Nanna Reese’s whole body bowls over with laughter like I ought to be entertaining an entire stadium. She’s literally the only person who hasn’t walked away from me all evening, except for maybe Naomi. Granted, dirty jokes don’t usually win me friends, but Nanna Reese has become my biggest fan.

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