a
questioning look at me, his eyes seeming to say, What ’s going on, Summer? Why you stoppin’ the show?
But that in itself made me cringe.
I mean, hello . That was the
problem—I didn’t want to be putting on a show for him. Well, I didn’t want to want to put on a show for
him. I just wanted us to be together—be friends. Like we had been earlier
today … like we used to be—always.
So, yeah. I was putting out totally mixed signals. As usual. Grrr!
I scurried toward the bathroom, but
there was a line. I turned around, deciding to go outside instead. Breathe in
fresh air. Or just … breathe. But I turned, and there was Mason . His eyes on me. My heart stopped. I so wasn’t ready
for this. The way he was looking at me.
His brow rose as I stood staring at
him, breathless. But the way his eyes were glued to mine, I doubted I’d ever
breathe again.
His voice was almost gentle, but
held a note of accusation, “What are you doing here? You hate parties like
this.”
“Well, yeah. Usually,” I stammered.
“But tonight, I don’t know—I felt restless. I wanted something
different.”
“Different?” He tilted his head,
squinting his eyes, like he was trying to figure out my code—figure out
if I was actually using one (you know, because of the dance). Then he seemed to
decide: Screw it . In a heartbeat, he pinned
me against the wall, his hands on either side of me.
“Did you dress this way for me?” his
voice was husky as his eyes dipped to the length of my body, lingering on my
every curve. “Because I like it, Summer.”
His face grew close and he breathed
into the curve of my neck, trailing kisses down my throat. “Were you putting on
that show for me?”
Heat ignited through my body.
Swallowing, I squeaked out in a
strangled whisper, “I just wanted your attention.”
His kisses on my neck continued (!!),
causing goose bumps to rise on every inch of me. Without stopping he murmured,
“Well, you have it.”
Instantly, his hands tangled in my
hair as his hot mouth crashed against mine. The world spun and my knees went
weak.
His kisses—oh my gosh ! They were different than before—still
passionately incredible, yet so insatiable. Instantly I knew I’d made a
mistake, but it was too late. Not letting me squirm away, within seconds, he
had the door to a room open and whisked me inside.
Our lips never parting, he backed
me against the wall—kissing and kissing and kissing. It had me seeing
stars. I was positive I was going to pass out any second from too much excited adrenaline
running through my heart and brain. Through my entire system.
I couldn’t believe this was really
happening. That this was tough, sweet Mason—that he was kissing me like
this. That he was kissing me at all. His hot, tantalizing
mouth devouring me. It was as though he couldn’t get enough, as though
he wouldn’t stop until he consumed me…. And he made it seem that was his plan.
That he would seduce me with his hungry, unyielding passion. Tantalize me and have
me just the way he had every girl. That within minutes I’d be
another conquest.
“Mason! Stop it!” I pushed him away
breathlessly. I growled. “You made your point.”
“Did I?” He raised his brow.
Flushed and breathing hard, he
slowly gave me a little space, just a little. But he didn’t allow me to leave.
He still had me caged against the wall.
His warm ragged breath heated my
lips. He asked ironically, “What point is that?”
“That you have way more experience
than me—and I’m not your type.”
Obviously.
He was used to party girls, and
older girls—girls that weren’t shocked by what he’d just been doing. (And
it seemed he’d only been getting started!!!) I wasn’t used to that stuff. I was
used to being in control—and having all the control.
No, I definitely wasn’t his type.
Mason shook his head ruefully, his
eyebrows lifting. “That wasn’t my point.”
But he moved away from the wall and
let me leave.
questioning look at me, his eyes seeming to say, What ’s going on, Summer? Why you stoppin’ the show?
But that in itself made me cringe.
I mean, hello . That was the
problem—I didn’t want to be putting on a show for him. Well, I didn’t want to want to put on a show for
him. I just wanted us to be together—be friends. Like we had been earlier
today … like we used to be—always.
So, yeah. I was putting out totally mixed signals. As usual. Grrr!
I scurried toward the bathroom, but
there was a line. I turned around, deciding to go outside instead. Breathe in
fresh air. Or just … breathe. But I turned, and there was Mason . His eyes on me. My heart stopped. I so wasn’t ready
for this. The way he was looking at me.
His brow rose as I stood staring at
him, breathless. But the way his eyes were glued to mine, I doubted I’d ever
breathe again.
His voice was almost gentle, but
held a note of accusation, “What are you doing here? You hate parties like
this.”
“Well, yeah. Usually,” I stammered.
“But tonight, I don’t know—I felt restless. I wanted something
different.”
“Different?” He tilted his head,
squinting his eyes, like he was trying to figure out my code—figure out
if I was actually using one (you know, because of the dance). Then he seemed to
decide: Screw it . In a heartbeat, he pinned
me against the wall, his hands on either side of me.
“Did you dress this way for me?” his
voice was husky as his eyes dipped to the length of my body, lingering on my
every curve. “Because I like it, Summer.”
His face grew close and he breathed
into the curve of my neck, trailing kisses down my throat. “Were you putting on
that show for me?”
Heat ignited through my body.
Swallowing, I squeaked out in a
strangled whisper, “I just wanted your attention.”
His kisses on my neck continued (!!),
causing goose bumps to rise on every inch of me. Without stopping he murmured,
“Well, you have it.”
Instantly, his hands tangled in my
hair as his hot mouth crashed against mine. The world spun and my knees went
weak.
His kisses—oh my gosh ! They were different than before—still
passionately incredible, yet so insatiable. Instantly I knew I’d made a
mistake, but it was too late. Not letting me squirm away, within seconds, he
had the door to a room open and whisked me inside.
Our lips never parting, he backed
me against the wall—kissing and kissing and kissing. It had me seeing
stars. I was positive I was going to pass out any second from too much excited adrenaline
running through my heart and brain. Through my entire system.
I couldn’t believe this was really
happening. That this was tough, sweet Mason—that he was kissing me like
this. That he was kissing me at all. His hot, tantalizing
mouth devouring me. It was as though he couldn’t get enough, as though
he wouldn’t stop until he consumed me…. And he made it seem that was his plan.
That he would seduce me with his hungry, unyielding passion. Tantalize me and have
me just the way he had every girl. That within minutes I’d be
another conquest.
“Mason! Stop it!” I pushed him away
breathlessly. I growled. “You made your point.”
“Did I?” He raised his brow.
Flushed and breathing hard, he
slowly gave me a little space, just a little. But he didn’t allow me to leave.
He still had me caged against the wall.
His warm ragged breath heated my
lips. He asked ironically, “What point is that?”
“That you have way more experience
than me—and I’m not your type.”
Obviously.
He was used to party girls, and
older girls—girls that weren’t shocked by what he’d just been doing. (And
it seemed he’d only been getting started!!!) I wasn’t used to that stuff. I was
used to being in control—and having all the control.
No, I definitely wasn’t his type.
Mason shook his head ruefully, his
eyebrows lifting. “That wasn’t my point.”
But he moved away from the wall and
let me leave.
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