Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy 2)

He reached over, took her hand in his, and smoothed his thumb across her knuckles. “I know all about the cuts on your arm and why they happened,” he said, reminding her of the day they’d met and how protective he’d been, even though he’d been a stranger at the time. “And I know you went to therapy after everything with your stepfather, to help you with controlling the urge to cut. You told me back then that it was over, that you wouldn’t do it again . . . . In fact, you promised.”

She swallowed the thick knot rising in her throat. She had made Mason that promise, and at the time, she’d meant her vow because she’d believed it. But then again, she’d never anticipated that a few years later, yet another set of devastating circumstances would send her spiraling back into such a dark, desolate place. She’d been so overcome with anger and emotional anguish that the only way to escape and cope with her humiliation and shame had been to turn all that mental suffering into the kind of physical pain that would guarantee to soothe and calm her bleak thoughts. If only for a little while.

He released a slow breath. “I need to know when those cuts happened,” he said, drawing her out of his troubling thoughts. “Was it recently?”

His gaze was unwavering, his tone so full of concern and caring that Katrina wanted to cry and confess the whole terrible, awful truth that she’d never shared with anyone. But she didn’t want him to look at her differently, to see her differently, s

o she settled for a vague, but truthful, response.

“No. It was back in high school.” Our senior year. Right before graduation.

His fingers continued to stroke along her wrist where the butterfly tattoos on her arm began. “What happened to make you cut again?”

Your best guy friend at the time raped me, she thought, but the horrible words stuck in her throat. “I had a relapse.” That much was honest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, the tenderness in his gaze nearly her undoing.

She glanced away from his too-intense stare, relieved he hadn’t pushed her on the reasons behind her actions. “Because I was . . . ashamed.”

His fingers touched her jaw until she looked at him again, and this time, he seemed troubled by her reply. “I’m your best friend, Katrina. You’re supposed to share everything with me, and I hate that you went through something so painful by yourself. Even if it was back in high school. And now that I’m your . . . boyfriend,” he said with a slight grin. “Okay, that was weird to say to a woman for the very first time in my life. But I don’t ever want you to feel that you can’t talk to me about anything. I’m always here for you. Always. Understood?”

She knew it wouldn’t do any good to bring up what had happened all those years ago, except to expose her own insecurities and humiliation. Connor Stevens had been out of their lives for eight years. After graduation, he’d gone into the military as a Marine, and as far as Katrina knew, Connor and Mason had lost touch, so there was no reason for her to rehash that part of her past. Cutting really and truly was behind her and had been for a long time.

“Promise me, Katrina,” Mason said, his tone firm.

She nodded and pushed out a smile. “Yes, I promise,” she said as she stood and started collecting their dirty dishes, desperate to move on from the conversation. “Now let’s go watch our scary movie.”

While she cleaned up the kitchen and put the leftover pizza in the refrigerator, Mason went into the living room and set up the movie. By the time she was done and joined him, the horror flick was ready to go. Her couch was wide with an ottoman they could push directly up against the sofa, which enabled them both to recline next to each other. She took the inside against the cushions, and after dimming the lights, Mason settled in beside her.

As the movie started, Katrina didn’t hesitate to nestle up to his side, but she couldn’t deny that this time felt different than the other friendlier times they’d cuddled together for a movie. He wrapped an arm around her so she could lay her head comfortably on his chest, and her legs were draped in between his. He played with her hair, running the strands through his fingers and occasionally skimming his thumb along the side of her neck, making her very aware of him and the slow, heated thrum of desire coursing through her.

She loved snuggling with him as a girlfriend so much more because now she had full permission to slide her hand beneath his T-shirt and run her fingers over his tight abs. While he seemed focused on the movie, she casually stroked her hand along his toned stomach and up to his chest, then turned her head and placed a warm, damp kiss against his throat as her fingers grazed over a taut nipple.

Lightning quick, he grabbed her hand and turned his body toward hers, pinning her against the soft cushions, his body half on top of hers. He feigned a fierce frown as he looked down at her. “Dammit, this is our first date and I’m trying to be good.”

She nipped at his jaw, and he groaned. “I like the bad Mason so much better.”

He released her wrist and settled his hand on the curve of her waist beneath her camisole. “You’re making it really hard to concentrate on the movie.”

“I know.” She laughed, happy to be back to their playful banter. “Wanna make out instead?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth, his gaze turning hungry. “Jesus, do you really think I’d say no to that?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” she whispered as she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled his hips to hers. The solid, tempting length of his erection nudged against her lower belly, and in response, her body softened even more. “And if you’re really lucky, I might even let you get to fourth base,” she teased.

The last thing she saw was his wicked grin before he dropped his mouth over hers and she was lost in a sizzling, panty-melting kiss that quickly had her moving and rubbing restlessly against him. Minute by minute, the kisses grew hotter. Deeper. More demanding. His mouth claimed, his lips consumed, and the slide and swirl of his sinful tongue drove her wild for more.

The movie completely forgotten, she moaned restlessly and tugged on the top button of his jeans, wanting to feel him pulsing in her hand as she stroked his length. It felt like it had been forever since she’d touched him, had his shaft moving deep inside of her, and she ached to have him back where he belonged.

A deep, guttural growl tore from his throat as he lifted his mouth from hers. He stared down at her with an undeniable carnal heat glittering in his eyes. “I take it we’re moving on to second base?”

She bit her swollen bottom lip, needing more than fondling through their clothes. She wanted them off so she could feel skin to skin. “I’d rather skip second base and get right to third,” she said as she anxiously pushed his shirt up to his chest.

Helping her, he lifted up so he could pull the shirt the rest of the way over his head and dropped it to the floor behind him. “Just to be clear, what is your version of third base?”

She lifted her gaze to his and gave him a sultry, seductive smile. “Your mouth on my bare breasts and your hand between my legs,” she said huskily. “I’m pretty sure orgasms are a requirement of making it past third base.”

He chuckled lightly. “Duly noted. Take off your shorts and panties so there’s nothing in my way of touching you.”