Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men 1)

I snorted and rolled my eyes but ended up grinning. He grinned back and took my hand, kissing my knuckles.

For that brief moment, everything felt almost normal.

Dawn was removing a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator when we passed through the kitchen to the back door. Struck by her everyday behavior as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened tonight, I wanted to hate her for making Mason feel as if he had to sacrifice himself for the past two years. But I stopped myself. If I looked for flaws in everyone I encountered, I’d find them one hundred percent of the time, and I’d always be disappointed. I didn’t want to be disappointed in this woman. She had raised two of my favorite people on earth. She was their mother.

Instead of glaring, I stepped toward her and pulled her into an impulsive hug. “I just want you to know you have some amazing children.”

She seemed startled at first, but then she relaxed and hugged me back. “I do, don’t I? And I know they’re both very fond of you too.”

When we pulled away from each other, Mason was there to take my hand. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he told Dawn before dragging my tripping, surprised self out the back door.

“Mason! Oh, my God. I can’t believe you just told her that.”

“What?” When he looked at me, he appeared confused. “I thought you didn’t want me to lie to her.”

So, I guess he planned on staying all night with me then. My heart jerked with relief because I didn’t want to be apart from him either.

“But now she’s going to think we’ll be having sex all night.”

He merely shrugged. “Well…a guy can dream, can’t he?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Once we reached my apartment, Mason held my hand as he walked me up to my door.

After stroking my hair in the most loving caress, he had me stand just inside the entrance as he checked the entire loft, making sure no psycho stalker ex-boyfriends were lingering about. I treasured the sweetness of his actions.

When he returned to me and took my hand again to lead me to my room, I followed in giddy exultation.

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nbsp; We undressed ourselves, facing each other as we stripped down to our underwear. His eyes heated as I pulled my dried tee over my head and my breasts pushed taut against the cups of my bra. I knew he was aroused; he revealed an impressive bulge in his boxer briefs when he pushed his jeans down his legs. But instead of reaching for me, he rotated away and turned down the sheets of my bed.

“After you.” His gaze was filled with care and devotion. “I swear I will refrain from hogging the mattress and blankets tonight.”

I paused before climbing in, as relieved as I was disappointed that he didn’t put the moves on me. We deserved a little physical connection. I needed to get close to him and share my body with him in the most intimate, bonding way possible.

But later. Not tonight.

Sex wasn’t the main thing he needed from me just now. It wasn’t the main thing I needed from him either. For the time being, we both could do with a little emotional comfort.

So instead of the horizontal tango, what followed were some of the sweetest, yet most platonic, hours of my life. Mason managed to turn the utter depression I’d begun in his neighbor’s backyard into unreserved bliss.

He wrapped me in his arms and snuggled with me, talking about trivial things like Harry Potter, and lattes, and college, and spiders, and our futures. We drew on each other’s hands with our fingers and guessed what pictures we’d made. We tried to have a thumb war under the covers…with our toes. Then we lay in tranquil silence, holding hands and listening to our breaths slow until we both fell into a dreamless oblivion.

I had a lovely, solid rest. When I woke, I didn’t feel as if I’d spent any of last night bawling my eyes out until they’d nearly swollen shut. I felt refreshed and warm as I snuggled into my soul mate, who had kept his promise and hadn’t hogged the mattress or the sheets.

Rolling around to face him, I watched him slumber next to me. It was like witnessing a miracle. He was beautiful. Inside and out.

As if sensing my stare, he stirred, his breath catching before he turned his head my way and fluttered his thick, stubby lashes open. A tired smile lit his face, and I seriously can’t even describe how amazing it felt to be the recipient of it.

“Hey, Sweet Pea,” he rasped.

If I wasn’t turned on before, I certainly was now. His morning voice put his regular voice to shame, all sleep-clogged and sexy with the perfect amount of huskiness to it.

“Hey, Hotness,” I returned, my fingers itching to reach out and just…pet him. Giving in to temptation, I asked, “Can I touch you?”

His lashes closed, resting against the tops of his tanned, sculpted cheeks as his smile grew broad. “You don’t have to ask.”