Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men 1)

“You know what I’m asking, don’t you, Mason?”

Leaning away, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Good.” She sounded pleased. And disgustingly smug. “So your answer would be…?”

Unable to actually voice his refusal, he gave a vigorous shake of his head.

When she didn’t respond, a tense silence met his ears. His curiosity got the best of him, and he opened his lashes.

She studied him with a shrewd expression, as if she knew a small, microscopic part of him wanted to say yes. But seriously, what eighteen-year-old guy wanted to say no to sex, even if it meant losing it to an old chick?

“Is that your final answer?” she asked, sounding amused.

He messed up by opening his mouth. “Yes! I’m absolutely positive. I won’t have sex with you. I wouldn’t…” He glanced away. “I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

Why he went and confessed that, he had no idea. But he hoped to God it scared her off, because any woman who wanted a fumbling virgin to bang her had to be out of her ever-loving mind.

Instead of jerking her hand off him in revulsion, however, her fingers tightened on his leg. Hazel eyes widened, and she licked her lips.

“Oh, sweetie,” she breathed. “You just made me wet.”

Mason blinked. Huh?

“Don’t worry if it’s your first time, darling. I could teach you everything you need to know. And more. It would be an honor to train a young buck like you to learn my…preferences.” Her fingers began to slide farther up his leg.

He grabbed her wrist before she reached the hem of his shorts because he knew she wouldn’t stop there. She wouldn’t stop until she had a handful. His dick throbbed, knowing full well this was as close as any female had ever come to touching him. Stupid dick.

Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on her to warn her away. But hell, she began to breathe harder as if his manhandling turned her on even more.

With her gaze glazing to a fevered pitch, she drew in a heavy pant. “Damn, you have strong hands. You’re hard for me right now, aren’t you?”

Disgusted with her as much as he was with his own betraying body, he threw her hand off and lurched to his feet, turning slightly away so she couldn’t see anything bulging from his shorts.

“You need to leave,” he bit out. It had to be the most surreal, embarrassing, awkward moment of his life, standing petrified in his mother’s backyard in front of a broken lawn mower, sporting a woody and discussing sex for sale with the landlady. “I told you no.”

“Fine.” She huffed out an indignant sniff as she pushed to her feet. The heat from her glare burned into the back of his neck. “Tell your mother to pay up by the end of the week then, or she’ll be receiving an eviction notice.”

Mason spun around to gape at her.

She wouldn’t.

Oh, holy hell, she would.

She pretended to admire her fingernails, preening in front of him as if proud of herself for besting him. Then, with a jaunty wave, she chirped, “Toodles,” and twirled away on her heels, humming a bubbly tune under her breath. Her hips swung in a saucy manner as she strolled toward the gate.

Mason gaped after her, sick to his stomach and scared out of his mind. She’d never threatened eviction before. Then again, she’d never solicited him for sex before, either.

His mother already worked two full-time jobs, and what money she’d been saving back was to buy a motorized wheelchair for Sarah.

Mason clenched his teeth, feeling like the worst son ever, the worst older brother ever. He’d been part-timing it at the car wash after school, but that hadn’t even made a dent in helping Mom pay the bills. If he could assist his family in any way, he should be jumping at the chance to do anything and everything possible.

Even the landlady.

Closing his eyes against a wave of dizziness for what he was about to do, Mason rasped out the word, “Wait,” half hoping she didn’t hear him.

But her hand froze on the gate latch. Slowly, she rotated on her heels. “Yes?”

He hated the way her eyes flickered with triumph. He hated her, period.