When he returned to me and took my hand again to lead me to my room, I followed in giddy exultation.
We undressed ourselves, facing each other as we stripped down to our underwear. His eyes heated as I pulled my dried tee over my head and my breasts pushed taut against the cups of my bra. I knew he was aroused; he revealed an impressive bulge in his boxer briefs when he pushed his jeans down his legs. But instead of reaching for me, he rotated away and turned down the sheets of my bed.
“After you.” His gaze was filled with care and devotion. “I swear I will refrain from hogging the mattress and blankets tonight.”
I paused before climbing in, as relieved as I was disappointed that he didn’t put the moves on me. We deserved a little physical connection. I needed to get close to him and share my body with him in the most intimate, bonding way possible.
But later. Not tonight.
Sex wasn’t the main thing he needed from me just now. It wasn’t the main thing I needed from him either. For the time being, we both could do with a little emotional comfort.
So instead of the horizontal tango, what followed were some of the sweetest, yet most platonic, hours of my life. Mason managed to turn the utter depression I’d begun in his neighbor’s backyard into unreserved bliss.
He wrapped me in his arms and snuggled with me, talking about trivial things like Harry Potter, and lattes, and college, and spiders, and our futures. We drew on each other’s hands with our fingers and guessed what pictures we’d made. We tried to have a thumb war under the covers…with our toes. Then we lay in tranquil silence, holding hands and listening to our breaths slow until we both fell into a dreamless oblivion.
I had a lovely, solid rest. When I woke, I didn’t feel as if I’d spent any of last night bawling my eyes out until they’d nearly swollen shut. I felt refreshed and warm as I snuggled into my soul mate, who had kept his promise and hadn’t hogged the mattress or the sheets.
Rolling around to face him, I watched him slumber next to me. It was like witnessing a miracle. He was beautiful. Inside and out.
As if sensing my stare, he stirred, his breath catching before he turned his head my way and fluttered his thick, stubby lashes open. A tired smile lit his face, and I seriously can’t even describe how amazing it felt to be the recipient of it.
“Hey, Sweet Pea,” he rasped.
If I wasn’t turned on before, I certainly was now. His morning voice put his regular voice to shame, all sleep-clogged and sexy with the perfect amount of huskiness to it.
“Hey, Hotness,” I returned, my fingers itching to reach out and just…pet him. Giving in to temptation, I asked, “Can I touch you?”
His lashes closed, resting against the tops of his tanned, sculpted cheeks as his smile grew broad. “You don’t have to ask.”
I reached out immediately but paused within inches of contact. He must’ve sensed my hesitation because he reopened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed, utterly overwhelmed. “I don’t know where to start.”
Mason’s gaze warmed. He wrapped strong warm fingers around my wrist and drew my palm forward, leading me where he wanted my hand to follow. When he set it on the center of his chest, right over his heart and pressed my flesh flush to his as if fingerprinting my soul to his, I blinked back gratified tears.
“Start here. No one’s ever touched me here before.”
I rubbed a circle on his chest over his heart. It thumped strong and steady under my fingers, so I leaned in and set my lips to the precious spot, sealing the moment with a kiss.
Remembering a certain hickey from the night before, I glanced over without thinking, only to find all traces of Mrs. Garrison completely gone. His unmarked chest gleamed, sculpted and magnificent like a clean slate. And all mine to touch as I wished.
Unable to stop grinning, I glanced up and bit my lip before I took the plunge. “Word,” I said.
His sexy brows lowered with confusion. “What?”
I chuckled. “I thought you told me to just say the word when I was ready. So…word. Or should I say ‘the word’?”
Mason sucked in a sharp breath, looking suddenly uncertain. “Reese—”
He began to sit up, but I nudged him back down. Since my hand was still covering his heart, it didn’t take much effort to apply a little pressure and topple him back onto the mattress.
“It’s okay, Mason,” I assured him. “I love you, and I want to show you how much. I want you to have that recreational fun you’ve never had. I want to pamper and spoil you as no one ever has before.” Or ever will. “And I want to wash away all their rules and restrictions until you feel free to do whatever you like with me.”
His eyes darkened with feeling. Lifting his hand, he cupped my face gently. “God, I don’t deserve you.”