“Okay, but we’ll have to go slow, okay? I want to make sure that I don’t rush you.”
I giggle and nod. “I can agree to that. But what if my pace is much faster than you think?”
With that, all thoughts of soup and his illness fly out the window because Mason growls then, his blue eyes flaring. Soon, we’re going at it hard on his couch, and my body gets its second lesson in the ways of love with a man. Who knew it could be this good? After all, in the arms of the handsome firefighter, I know nothing but bliss.
7
Mason
A week later.
The beautiful girl and I have been enjoying one another non-stop for the past week. I have no idea how her mother hasn’t noticed because Charity basically sneaks out in the middle of the night to come to my house for some thorough loving. Then, most of the time she doesn’t even head home before going to school in the mornings. Instead, she goes straight to Cherry Falls High from my place, and no one’s for the wiser.
I have no idea how Rosanne hasn’t caught on yet, but Charity says it’s because her mom hasn’t been home much. I haven’t asked why because I don’t really care; Rosanne is in my past now, and I’m one hundred percent focused on her daughter. Besides, it could be something benign. Rose is a freelance make-up artist, so sometimes she travels for work.
This weekend is one such example where we have a lot of time to ourselves. Rose is busy doing something or other, and as a result, I want to take my best girl out. I pick Charity up in my truck early in the morning, and she hops in, looking simultaneously sexy and adorable in a ruffled halter top as well as a tight mini-skirt.
“Wow, sweetheart,” I growl approvingly, letting my eyes run over her curves. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks,” Charity titters, tossing her curls behind her shoulders. “You look good too,” she says, eyeing my package which of course, twitches under her gaze. Just a few hours ago, she was lying beneath me, moaning with pleasure, but the sweet girl insisted on going home to change before our excursion today.
“So where are we going?” she asks. “I have my bikini and sunblock in my bag, don’t worry.”
“Good, but it’s a surprise,” I growl while pulling the truck out of the driveway. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
She giggles again and then hooks up her phone so we can listen to her favorite comedy podcasts. As I drive, I notice her bouncing around in her seat as her curls stream in the wind.
“You look happy,” I say.
“I am!” she declares with a big smile. “This is our first official date as a couple, and it feels like we’re going out on a big adventure.”
I grin because her enthusiasm is contagious. “You’re right, honey, it is a big adventure.”
She sits back in her seat and tugs at the hem of her skirt. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too childish right now, Mason, but it’s been so long since I went on an adventure. And I love—” she hesitates. “I love that I get to spend this time alone with you.”
My heart flips over and I reach over to seize her small hand in one of mind.
“I don’t think you’re childish at all, baby girl. In fact, I’m glad I get to make you so happy.” Then I place my hand on her thigh. “Plus, I’ll make you even happier tonight,” I say suggestively as she giggles again, making me feel like the king of the world.
But for now, we’re just enjoying the ride. The road is smooth and we listen to a really interesting podcast about the #FreeBritney movement. Evidently, Britney Spears, the pop singer, has been under a conservatorship managed by her father for more than a decade, and her fans want to get her out.
“Poor thing,” sighs Charity. “I wish we could help her. Imagine being forty years old and having your dad run your life for you!”
I nod.
“It’s a travesty. I hope she has some good lawyers on her side. By the way, honey, where’s your dad? Or has it always been just you and Rose?”
Charity bites her lip while looking out the window.
“Pretty much, yeah. He was a ‘journeyman,’ is how my mom describes him, but I think that’s a euphemism. Carl was a drifter and a grifter, more like it. He and my mom divorced when I was baby, and I haven’t seen him since I was seven or eight. Honestly, it’s for the better,” Charity says in a rueful tone. But then her expression goes pensive. “I guess I appreciate my mom for that. Rosanne had me when she was only twenty-one, and it couldn’t have been easy to be alone with a newborn. My mom’s not perfect, but she has sacrificed a lot for me, in her own way. You know she could have been a make-up artist for a big company, but she turned it down because the schedule was too inflexible. Instead, she’s freelance so that she can control her time, and I know it’s partly because of me.”