Take me. Stop torturing yourself.
“I won’t be able to stop,” he confesses, bending to kiss the corner of my mouth. “I’m not a God, Brooke. I only have so much restraint, and you on your knees sucking my cock would smash it all to shit.”
“So you’re just going to jerk off alone after you leave me? Come on, Mason. That’s ridiculous. You could at least let me watch.”
A small laugh erupting past his lips has me pulling away and out of his reach.
“This isn’t funny,” I snap, turning my body when he tries to grab me again.
I need distance anyway. He’s half naked and those loose shorts he’s wearing do a piss poor job at concealing every perfect inch of him.
He slowly advances on me with his hands raised between us, with that cocky smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Are you not enjoying what I’m giving you, Brooke? Because if I’m remembering correctly, you seemed pretty fucking happy grinding that sweet pussy against my face last night. There’s pictures to prove it.”
Warmth surges between my hips. I narrow my eyes and silently curse my lower region for reacting to that reminder. “You know what? I’m going to go.”
His eyes snap up to mine. “Why?”
“Because I have work to do and you’re making my brain hurt.”
He grabs my waist before I can take a step. Pulling my back against his front, he drops his lips to my ear, whispering my name before he asks, “Are we still on for this weekend?”
I turn my head to look at him, biting my cheek to keep myself from reacting to the smug grin staring back at me. “I don’t know. Am I going to be allowed to touch you?”
“In a matter of speaking. I’m sure your hands will be in my hair while you beg me to make you come. That counts, yeah?”
With a grunt, I pry myself out of his arms and gesture at the box on the table as I stride past it. “I ate one of your cupcakes because you kept me up all night, and not in the way I wanted to be.”
“You kept me up too. Fucking that pretty little mouth was one hell of a visual. I came all over my sheets.”
My mouth falls open. I nearly face-plant . . . again. Bastard.
“Yeah? Well, it’s too bad I wasn’t there to lick it all up for you. Good luck getting those stains out.”
I push through the door with the biggest smile on my face.
Have fun with that visual.
I stare into the darkness of my bedroom, pulling the covers up around me when the AC kicks on.
It’s almost eleven, and I could be asleep. I should be. God knows I’m exhausted but I can’t seem to close my eyes yet.
The condo is quiet. Joey and Billy have no doubt gone off to bed by now. I stretch my legs against the cool sheets before flipping onto my stomach and attempting to shut down in this position. Within a few seconds I’m turning back over and flopping my head against the pillow.
A soft buzzing sound pulls my attention off the window. I throw myself out of bed and grab my phone out of my purse.
Mason . . . facetiming me? How does this even work? Oddly enough, I’ve had this phone for two years and have never used this feature before.
I accept the call and hold the phone above me as I settle back against the sheet. I glance briefly at the image of myself in the corner.
Good. I don’t look too rough. God knows I feel it.
Mason’s neck appears first, bathed in the soft light from a nearby source. He tilts the phone and smiles when he sees my face staring back at him.
“Little devil. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
I smirk at the nickname. “No. I’m actually having trouble winding down. I blame you for that.”
“Yeah? Am I on your mind?” He adjusts the pillow under his head as his eyes shift about ever so slightly. “You look pretty.”
I look at the tiny image of myself again. “Thanks.”
“Do you know why I’m calling you like this?”
“Because you’re a stalker and you needed a way to see my bedroom? You know, since you refuse to step in it.”
He laughs, low and deep in his throat. I feel myself smile and the haze of drowsiness slipping away.
“Brooke.”
“Mm.”
“You wanted to watch me, yeah?”
“Watch you . . .” I pause, my hand tightening around the hard case of my phone as realization shocks my body into full-on alertness. “Yes,” I reply through a quiet voice, running my tongue over my bottom lip and sitting up a little higher in bed.
On the screen, I watch desire pass over Mason’s face. His heavy breathing spills through the phone and out around me.
My toes curl against the sheet.
“Are you doing it?” I ask, although I already know the answer. I just want to hear him say . . .
“Yeah.” He jerks his chin, lips parted and eyes heavy. He shifts the phone away just enough for me to see the muscles rolling in his upper arm.