Restraint (Mason Family 1)

We could use the roof space like an observation deck. Maybe even turn it into a venue for events. There’s nothing like it in Savannah.

Wow. Why didn’t I think of this?

Blaire lays her palm flat on my chest as she watches me think. Thoughts pour through my brain like an open faucet, and all I see are dollar signs in our pockets and my father’s smile at a job well done.

“You might have just fixed our problem, sweetheart,” I tell her.

She grins. “I hate to tell you, but it wasn’t that hard.”

I take her hand off my stomach and press it against my cock.

“Say it isn’t hard again,” I tease.

Her eyes grow wide as she palms me. “I stand corrected.”

I brush a strand of hair out of her face. “You, Miss Gibson, are the total package.”

She tries to look away, but I don’t let her. Instead, I take her chin and tug it gently toward me.

When I look into her eyes, the strangest feeling comes over me. I want to make her feel good, to know how amazing she is. I want to protect her from the assholes of the world that might try to make her feel less because they have low self-esteem.

I can see all kinds of things hidden in the depths of her gorgeous blue eyes. Summers in the sea. Winters in Aspen beneath the giant Christmas tree my mother sources and has decorated before we ever show up to the ski lodge. Falls walking through the city, drinking apple cider and handing out candy on the front steps at Halloween.

I can see so much by looking in her eyes that it terrifies me.

How all of that would ever fit into my life, I don’t know.

To do something well, you have to focus on it. Dedicate yourself to it. You can’t expect something to have a one hundred percent result when you put in only a partial effort. Life doesn’t work that way.

What would happen if Blaire and I extended this arrangement?

Would she come and go from my house freely? Would it interrupt my schedule? Would she read too much into it and end up broken?

And knowing how hurt she’s been in the past by not being heard and supported, do I have the faculties to supply her with what she needs?

I don’t know.

Blaire pulls away from my hand and places her cheek against my chest again. I pull her as close to me as I can.

“Are you sleepy?” I ask.

She nods.

“I do have to go downstairs for a little bit.” I bend down and kiss the top of her head. “I need to call Wade and give him your ideas.”

“Make sure you give me credit,” she jokes.

“Of course.”

She yawns. “How is your project going besides the part you needed my help with?”

I chuckle. “It’s going pretty good. It’s been a family affair, for sure. We’ve all had to put our heads together.”

“If my brothers had to put their heads together, there would be bloodshed.”

“Well, Coy isn’t involved, so that helps.”

I can feel her smile against me.

“I like it when we all work together,” I admit. “The camaraderie is nice.”

“When will you know if it all works out?”

“We’re waiting on confirmation, but in two or three days. Graham was going out of town this week and wasn’t sure when he was coming back.”

She swallows hard. “So about the same time as I go home?”

The words hang in the air. It’s a simple question with a simple answer. But saying it out loud feels like I’m shoving a boulder off the side of a cliff.

“I need to check with Yancy and see if she’s bought me a ticket,” she says softly.

Instead of replying, I snuggle her tighter.

Moonlight floods my room. Shadows cast across the walls and dance as the tree branches move in the breeze outside my window.

Imagining Blaire not being here in a couple of days already feels lonely.

I’m not ready for that yet.

“Hey,” I whisper, unsure if she’s asleep or awake.

“Yeah?”

I force a swallow. “I’m meeting my family at my mom’s tomorrow for brunch. Would you like to go with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

She moves one of her legs across mine, locking her heel around my ankle.

“Then yes,” she says.

I kiss her head again.

I hold her in my arms and imagine the conversation I’ll have with Wade. But instead of getting up and giving him a call, I fall into a deep, blissful sleep.

Twenty-Six

Blaire

Holt needs a ceiling fan.

The air feels stagnant inside the bedroom. He cracked a window sometime during the night but closed it before he left for work this morning.

Watching him prepare for a day in the office was a treat.

If I thought watching him undress was a sight to behold, I didn’t anticipate how sexy it would be to watch him dress. The way his legs and ass fill out a pair of pants is on display when he’s not wearing anything else. I love the next layer—a shirt unbuttoned, hanging open. And watching him put on a tie is basically foreplay.