“Okay then.” She nods with her glowing smile that threatens to ruin me every time, then gets up, grabbing both our bowls. “It’s a date.” Her cheeks instantly flare a deep shade of crimson. “I mean…not a date. Just…we can’t…”
I get up also and grab the bowls she is threatening to drop during her outburst. “No date. Just two people who enjoy syncretic religion playing around a cemetery full of dead people.”
Her eyebrows raise in surprise. “You read the book,” she says, pleased.
“Of course. When your favorite teacher recommends a book, you read it.” Silence falls between us. I should have kept the teacher comment to myself. Fuck, now I just ruined whatever plan she had for us.
“Just two people…” she repeats.
“It’s a free country, Miss Benedict. There’s no harm in two people being in the same place at the same time.” My words win her over, easing any worry of what people may think if they see us together.
“Okay then. You’re right. Just two friends. Taking a tour.” She smirks.
We’re silent, grinning at one another, until she finally breaks the moment.
“So…” she starts.
“Yeah, we should probably…”
“Get ready. We should get ready.” She fidgets with her hands and I chuckle at how damn cute she is in those ridiculous pajama pants. I can’t help but mess with her, just to see more of that glimmer in her eyes.
“Probably should change you out of those super sexy pajama pants. Don’t want anyone trying to steal you on my watch.” I grin and watch her mouth drop as her eyes fall to her pants. When they return to mine, her amused smirk has me grinning wider.
“Yeah? Well you should probably put a shirt on while we’re at it. Can’t have you wakin’ the dead with those guns. Wait… technically you’d be killing someone with guns… I mean your pecs… Not that—”
I erupt into loud laughter. I can’t help it. I start flexing my pecs and her hands shoot up covering her eyes.
“Oh my god, what are we doing?!”
“Having a pleasant Saturday. Now, if you’re done with the gun show, let’s get ready and go see some dead people.”
“Sounds dead on with what I was thinking.”
God, she’s so fucking cute.
Megan
We’re walking up the stairs to my front door after a long but fantastic day. Everything was perfect. Not that it was a date, but in my little fairytale head, it was the perfect date. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself as much as I did with Mason today. But now that the sun’s set and night is luring in, I know it’s time to say good night.
I insert my key in the lock, and the latch releases, opening just a smidge to my house. I turn to say goodnight, not realizing he’s so close, I’m forced to raise my chin to meet his eyes. My heart does that girly little flippy thing at the way his stare penetrates down at me. He’s not just looking at me, he’s staring through me, to the deepest parts of my soul.
I want to invite him in. Beg him to do exactly what his eyes are silently telling me he wants to do. But I shouldn’t. I can’t. I’ve played on the wild side long enough. I need to stop whatever’s happening between us before it goes too far. It hasn’t already? Dammit. I need my heart to stop beating so rapidly.
Don’t do it.
His aura surrounds me, and my skin begins to heat.
What you’re doing is wrong.
His rugged attitude, those searing eyes. Anyone would mistake him for older. Maybe for just one night, I can forget he’s my student.
Say goodnight, Megan.
Goodnight. Yep. I can do this. Two simple words, then turn around, go inside, and fill your gigantic need with ice cream, reality TV, and your vibrating collection of toys.
Good.
Night.
Meg—
“So, would you like to come in for—”
His head dips as he swallows the rest of my invitation in a kiss. His full lips still taste like the funnel cake we shared. I can’t stop myself from leaning into him as he slowly yet hungrily devours me. This kiss, it’s unlike the others. It’s not wild or ravenous. It’s slower. Gentler. He kisses me as if he’s memorizing every part of me. This is where I should pull away. Send him home and ground myself. Rid myself of all the thoughts, urges, wrong feelings I’m starting to build for him. Why is my heart racing so fast? ’Cause you want this. Goddammit! I do want this. I’ve wanted him since the moment I spotted him in the bar. And that forbidden need to be with him hasn’t gone away.
I grab at his shirt and yank him into the house. I deepen our kiss as I walk us backwards toward my bedroom, both of us ripping at each other’s clothes. “What are you up for tonight, Mr. Blackwell?” I pull away, peering into his heated gaze. I bite on my lower lip to stop me from jumping him right then and there, and reach for my nightstand, but he stops me.
“No. Not tonight.” My mood plummets at his rejection. I’ve gone too far with him. I should have listened to my damn angel and sent him on his way. He probably thinks I’m some sort of fetish weirdo. Shame shatters my mood, and I retreat a step away from him.
“What just happened there?” he asks.
I’m too embarrassed to even make eye contact. “Nothing. Just…I shouldn’t have been so…you probably think I’m—”
“Beautiful?” he lowers his lips to mine. He kisses me, and it’s so damn gentle and sweet, I want to weep. Without breaking contact, he lifts me up and lays me on my bed, his large body covering mine. “Tonight, I just want you. I want to savor you. Every inch of your body. Gonna be the fight of my life to go slow with you, but I need to. I need to show you just how beautiful you are.” He lowers his mouth to my neck, leaving his print on my flesh, kiss by kiss, until his lips are wrapped around my breast. “You’re like a gift, and I need you to know just how much I want to treasure you.” His teeth graze my nipple. He doesn’t bite down as he normally would; instead, he lazily works his tongue in circular motions over my bud, working me into a slow frenzy.
“Mason…” His words, his skin against mine. This sudden security he offers me. I buckle under his touch when his teeth finally close around my nipple.
“So, it’s Mason now?” The vibrations of his deep chuckle bring my back off the mattress, whimpering from the overwhelming desire he’s building inside me.
My trembling hands work their way into his thick hair. “Mason, please…” I don’t know what I’m pleading for. He makes me want so many things, it scares me. He has me plunging deep into the thirsty sea of lust, drowning in everything he’s offering me. But the deeper I plummet into the abyss of our forbidden attraction, the heavier my emotions become, and I know it’s no longer just physical between us.
“Absolutely beautiful. You know that, right?” he whispers against my skin, dropping down to my ribcage, his tongue caressing my navel. “Your skin, so soft. The taste of you, Heaven on my tongue.” The warmth of his breath and his praise completely unravels me. My eyes flutter shut as his teeth graze down along my pelvis. “God, your body is buzzing as I touch you.” Spreading my legs apart, he presses his nose to my center. He opens me wide and licks between my folds. “I want to fuck you hard ‘til you beg for me, but I need to fuck you slow. I need to cherish you. Will you let me?” He lifts his head to capture my eyes. His intense stare sets fire to my core. He’s rendered me speechless, and I can only respond with a swift nod. His smile isn’t predatorial. It’s thankful. He’s thanking me for giving myself to him. He lowers his head, pressing sweet kisses to my inner thigh. Taking his time to work back up to my center, he licks my sex.
I’m not sure I can handle this new side of him. His intensity is almost too much. “Mason,” I whimper his name just as his tongue fills me. His strokes are measured, yet deep, sucking me until my legs begin to quiver. He knows he has me, yet he continues to relish in the slow build-up of my pending orgasm. He hasn’t attempted anything beyond his simple tongue lashing, and I’m just as worked up as I am when he’s taking me in the darkest of ways. “Mason, I’m gonna…” I warn him, because his slow assault is more intense than anything we’ve shared yet. My fingers curl into his hair, and my lips part on a silent moan as my orgasm brings me to an euphoric place unfamiliar to me.
He continues to stroke me, until my fingers release my death grip. He raises his head, and I start to sit up. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, crawling up my body, using his lips to heat every inch of skin he presses down on.
“Your turn,” I reply, but when I try sitting up farther, he pushes me down.
“I told you. Tonight, it’s about you.”
“Yeah, but—”
“This may never be anything more than what it is right now. You may wake up in the morning and regret what we’re doing, and that battle in your head may finally win out, convincing you we ain’t right together. So, tonight, I need to show you—prove to you, if just for tonight, how fucking important you’re becoming to me.” His head dips, and his lips are over mine, kissing me with the same slow intensity. He doesn’t force my lips open but waits for the invitation. He wants me to show him, admit that this, us, together…we’re a force. He wants me to surrender my doubts and allow him inside, not just the physical parts, but possibly the emotional parts too.