Then, he gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her cheek and tipped her face up to his so she was looking directly into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Don’t doubt for a second that I want you, but I don’t have a condom with me, and I won’t risk having sex without using one. But most importantly, I didn’t come over here for that tonight, though I can’t deny I loved giving you that orgasm. It was fucking hot watching you come like that.”
“Oh.” Her mind was reeling from everything he’d just revealed. It said a lot about his true intentions that he hadn’t come over prepared to have sex. And when she thought back, she’d been the one to initiate what had just happened.
His gaze turned serious. “I also want to tell you . . . despite my reputation, I’ve always gotten tested regularly, and the last time was right before Vegas. I’m clean.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, appreciating his honesty. It wasn’t an easy conversation to have, but it was an important one. “And just for the record, as of a year ago and after my last relationship, I’m clean, as well.”
He grinned playfully at her. “I’d say you were a bit of a dirty girl tonight, but in the best possible way,” he said, reminding her of those filthy words she’d spoken, and how much they’d turned her on. “And I liked it. A lot.”
“Me, too,” she admitted, returning his smile. With him, she felt free to be that woman who embraced her sensuality, who could enjoy darker, more forbidden depths of sex. Because she trusted him and knew that it came from a place of pleasure, not degradation.
Not wanting to think about those degrading memories when they were part of a past she no longer wanted to relive, she curled her body into Mason’s while he went back to watching the movie. She loved how safe and protected he made her feel, when no other man had ever come close to giving her that sense of security that she’d always craved.
And that was something she never wanted to lose.
Chapter Eleven
Three weeks of committed bliss had never felt so damn good, Mason thought as he cast a glance at Katrina while checking his inventory at his workstation. She was standing up at the front counter of the shop talking to Jasmine while pointing to something on the computer screen that they were both looking at. He took a moment to appreciate how gorgeous and sexy she looked today in her cherry-red pencil skirt, a white button-up blouse, and a pair of leopard-print heels that added a naughty element to the otherwise prim outfit.
So much had changed between them since that night when he’d gone over to her place with pizza, and not just the fact that Katrina was now his girlfriend. God, he loved how that sounded. Loved even more that their relationship was back to normal, except with smoking-hot sex whenever they wanted it. Which was often. He couldn’t get enough of her, and didn’t think he ever would, which was shocking considering he’d spent the past twelve years immersing himself in meaningless hookups in an attempt to escape a painful past. He’d avoided any kind of emotional involvement with a woman, because he’d always feared that the person he was with would eventually see how fucked-up he was and would leave.
But Katrina . . . she’d been through everything with him, and not once had she wavered in her friendship. She knew all about his shitty past and hadn’t run or cut him out of her life. She’d seen him through some of the worst times in his life, had endured his wild and rebellious behavior, and she was still here.
And now, she was his.
How was it that the one woman he’d refused to get involved with because of his fear of losing her was actually the one woman who made him feel whole and complete? Like she was his other half that he hadn’t even known was missing until now. She made him feel calm and focused deep inside. Peaceful in a way that kept him centered and grounded, and she made him want to be a better man for her.
He’d always loved Katrina, but over the past few weeks, he’d fallen in love with her, and it was the single best feeling he’d ever experienced. The rush of emotions she evoked from him every single day was better than any other high he’d ever scored. As sappy as it sounded—and he’d never admit it to either of his brothers—being crazy in love was the best drug ever.
He was waiting for the perfect moment to tell her how he felt, and to suggest that she move into his place with him because that’s where she belonged as far as he was concerned. In his bed. In his life. Every single day and night.
Needing a few supplies for his station, Mason went to the storeroom and gathered up a box of sterile gloves and grabbed more of the biohazard containers they used to dispose of used needles. He tucked a roll of paper towels under his arm, and just as he was leaving the back room, he heard Katrina’s playful laughter, which prompted him to glance in her direction again to see what had amused her.
Not what, but who. Blake Cavanaugh.
The other man was standing up at the front counter, leaning casually toward Katrina, looking as charming and charismatic as always as he spoke to her, and there was nothing Mason could do to stop the shaft of jealousy that twisted in his stomach. He wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation, but it didn’t matter, because all he could think about was the fact that Katrina had dated the other guy—okay, one evening, but still a date—and it was obvious that Blake was still smitten with her.
Back off, fucker. She’s mine, Mason thought possessively as he opened a drawer in his station and put his extra supplies inside. And each time Blake coaxed a laugh out of Katrina, that acid in Mason’s stomach burned hotter, and the Neanderthal inside of him had to resist the urge to pound on his chest and make it clear that Katrina was his woman.
But instead of getting into a pissing match with Blake, Mason decided to handle the situation in a much more appropriate manner later. With Katrina. Thank God he was in between appointments, which gave him plenty of time to properly punish her.
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he typed in a text message and sent it to her. Go to the restroom and take off your panties, then meet me in my office. Right now.
Mason watched as Katrina picked up her phone, unlocked the screen, then read his note. Very slowly, she turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and incredulous with her own silent message, Are you kidding me?
He smirked and tapped out another text. Don’t test me, baby, unless you’d prefer I come over there and toss you over my shoulder in front of God and Blake, and fucking take you there myself. DO IT NOW.
Once she was done reading his second message, she glanced back at Blake and said something. The other man smiled and nodded, then headed over to Caleb’s station for an appointment he must have had. Without looking at Mason, Katrina headed toward the hallway to the restroom, and he went to the office to wait for her.
A large wooden desk dominated the area, but the surface was neat and cleared off, which was Katrina’s doing. She always kept everything orderly and put away, while he tended to leave loose paperwork all over the place. Right now, he truly appreciated her organizational tendencies, since it gave him a flat, uncluttered surface to fuck her on, or against, depending on how things played out.
The thought made his cock throb impatiently.
He opened the middle drawer and pulled out the wooden ruler inside just as Katrina slipped into the office—her face flushed with what Mason knew was the beginning glow of arousal—and shut the door behind her.
“Lock it,” he ordered, as he caught a glimpse of the white silk fisted in one of her hands. “Then come here and give me your panties.”
She secured the door, then walked toward him in those hot, fuck-me heels, her pretty eyes filled with excitement and curiosity, too. “Umm, why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice already husky with awareness and desire.