“Just go with it, Daisy,” she whispered, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the basin. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
She took a long shower, her nerve endings still alive with sensation, her body feeling completely alien to her. Throbbing and sensitive and ready. After she got out of the shower, she dropped the towel and stared at herself in the full-length mirror next to the huge tub. It wasn’t something she usually did. She tended to avoid looking at her naked body, hating every pound of extra fat, every bit of jiggle, any hint of cellulite . . . but now she wanted to see. Wanted to inspect and list the so-called imperfections. This body, which she had practically despised for so many years, had just given her more pleasure than she had ever believed possible.
She looked at the thighs, too round, too plump . . . without any gap at all between them, the tummy—not flat and abtastic, instead soft and rounded—but not as hideous as she had once thought. Her breasts—she reached up to cup one and hissed when the sensitive nipple immediately tightened in her palm—they weren’t perfect little apples; they were big, round, and overt. Her nipples were positioned high and gave a false impression of pertness, but the mounds themselves were bottom heavy and sloped gently down into a full curve.
She saw it all and automatically cataloged each and every flaw and then stopped and realized that Mason had seen all of this too, in a brightly lit room. He hadn’t seen any flaws; he had seen a desirable woman. The woman in the mirror wasn’t perfect, but she was . . . okay. She was somewhat ordinary with her curly brown hair, her freckles, and her pale skin; she had curves, and maybe they were a little fuller than was currently acceptable, but they emphasized her waist and gave her a pretty decent hourglass shape. She had cellulite, a double chin, and too much junk in the trunk, but right now she looked vibrant, happy, and even a little sexy.
“Is this a private party or can anyone join?” She jumped guiltily and looked to where Mason stood framed in the doorway, watching her watch herself.
He had on a fresh pair of briefs and that was all he wore. He came to stand behind her and eyed her reflection in the mirror. There was nothing but sincere appreciation and desire in his gaze. He was so tall her head only reached his chest; he wrapped his strong, hard arms around her and spread one hand over her stomach and the other replaced her hand at her breast. His dark skin contrasted starkly with her paleness, but the most striking thing about the way they looked together was that he made her seem tiny.
Beneath his huge hands, everything about her was small. His hand spanned the stomach she spent way too much time angsting over, making the extra weight look like nothing. And he was right; he was able to cover her breast with room to spare. She watched as he bent down to nuzzle his favorite spot beneath her ear and smiled and leaned against him. She loved the feeling of his taut body behind hers. She had never felt more fragile or more protected.
She turned in his arms and rubbed herself up against him voluptuously; his hot skin against her breasts felt simply amazing, and she was almost embarrassed to hear herself purring like a cat at the delightful sensation of the sparse hair on his chest grazing against her hard nipples.
His hands had come to rest on her butt and he was kneading the flesh there appreciatively before dragging one hand down to her thigh and lifting her leg so that he could rock his erection against her nude femininity. They moaned, and he leaned down to kiss her hungrily, his tongue mimicking the thrusting of his hips.
Things were starting to get out of hand when Mason groaned and reluctantly freed her mouth.
“We don’t have time, Daisy,” he whispered regretfully, while still rubbing himself up against her. “Christ, this is hard.”
“Yes, it is,” she giggled, and he growled, before nipping her bottom lip.
“Behave.” He dropped her thigh, and Daisy wobbled unsteadily. He grabbed one of the luxurious white hotel robes from behind the door and stuffed her arms into it.
“Cover yourself up, you shameless hussy. Stop trying to tempt me with your charms. Now go get dressed while I shower.”
She saluted smartly, just like he’d taught her, and he winked before ushering her out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. It reopened seconds later, and he tossed her pillow at her before closing and pointedly locking the door again. Daisy hugged the pillow to her chest and did a happy dance around the room before the fizzing in her veins settled down long enough for her to finally get dressed.
“You know you’re going to have to talk to Lia about Edmonton, right?” Mason muttered somberly in the lift forty minutes later.
“Yes.”
“Preferably before he touches you again,” he continued dangerously. “He lays another finger on you, and all bets are off. You’ll have to wind up explaining why her fiancé will be eating through a straw for the rest of his days.”
“Mason, don’t do or say anything until I’ve had a chance to talk with Lia or Daff, okay?”
“No promises.”
“Mason.”
“Daisy, if he touches you, I’m going to kick his ass. There’s no debating that. He has been gaslighting you for months, making you doubt yourself and your instincts. Fuck that guy; he lays a hand on you, I’m breaking it.”
They stepped out of the lift, and Daisy turned to him and reached up to cup his jaw and tug him down for a kiss. His stubble tickled the palms of her hands, and she moved her hands to the back of his head to the soft, fuzzier stubble of his hair.
“My hero,” she whispered after ending the kiss, and he smiled at her before claiming another quick kiss.
“And don’t you forget it. Now come on, we’re already late for dinner.”