Page 97 of All Your Reasons Why

If she thinks I’m allowing this to end like that, she’s got another guess coming.

I follow her into a small, empty meeting room. “At least it’s not a closet this time.” I chuckle to myself.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Mason. I can’t believe I ever even gave you the time of day.” Rowan is spitting mad. “No wonder nobody takes any of you guys seriously. You’re as monogamous as an Australian giant cuttlefish.”

I stare at her in confusion, tilting my head to the side.

She blows out a breath of exasperation. “They’re very promiscuous. Obviously, given the context.”

I can’t help but smile, which only seems to piss her off more. If that’s even possible.

Why is she so incredibly hot when she’s mad? Well, she’s hot all the time, but at the moment, it’s all I can do not to push her up against the wall and kiss her until she can barely breathe.

Instead, I go on the offensive. “So we’re an official couple now? Didn’t know we were playing at monogamy.”

“We’re not playing at jack shiznit, you horrendous asswipe,” she snaps, and turns to march out. But I have no intentions of allowing her to leave.

I grab her by the arm and spin her around, pulling her tight against my chest. Our eyes meet for a millisecond and the next thing I know we’re kissing hungrily, up against the wall.

Our hands tangle as we both attempt to remove clothes. I’m pushing her pants down, while she’s attempting to pull my shirt off. Somehow, we manage.

Clothes fall away and I barely notice how. I’m lost in a haze of lust.

She smells so fucking good. Feels so incredible against me.

Anybody could walk in at any moment—we didn’t lock the door behind us—but I can’t stop myself.

I grab her wrists and pin them above her head. “Don’t wear that fucking jersey again.” I brand her mouth with a savage kiss, but she pulls away.

“Screw you. Don’t humiliate me by screwing around with your ex-girlfriend and making it public, asshole.” She glares up at me and arches her back, pressing up against me. I’m hard as a rock, raging with arousal.

I kiss her again, my tongue thrusting into her mouth, claiming her, devouring her. She tastes sweet and minty, and smells like honeysuckle, her favorite shampoo. I know this about her, like I know where all her sweet, sensitive spots are, and how to make her moan my name.

I want her. But not like this. Not without some resolution.

I pull away from her. “I am not screwing my ex-girlfriend, or anyone but you, and I’ve told you that a thousand times. Why are you so damned paranoid?”

She jerks her hand from my grasp and slaps my chest. “I’m going to go over to Beckett’s apartment and just casually run into him. Hard. You okay with that?”

“You know where he lives?” I snarl, with an intensity that scares me. And she laughs.

She. Fucking. Laughs.

“Screw you.” I kiss her again, in a frenzy. She kisses me back, bruisingly hard.

It’s a flurry of insults followed by our tongues tangling together.

She pulls away finally, gasping for breath. “You are such an asshole.”

“And you’re a psycho.” I wrap my arms around her, holding her in place. “How could you possibly believe that I want anything to do with Lexi? You may be mean as hell but at least I thought you were smart.”

“Are you calling me stupid?” she says through gritted teeth.

I slide my hand between her legs and stroke her. “If you believe that shit, yes.”

“You are getting the worst costume ever,” she yells at me. “I’ll dress you up as a French maid, I swear to God.” Then she gasps as my finger curves inside her and hits her G-spot.

“In front of the kids? That would be in poor taste.”

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