“Do you want to come in?” I ask, lightly running my tongue along his bottom lip.
Fuck. What am I doing?
Suddenly, Mason’s lips come crashing into mine. A bolt of electricity shoots from our connected lips, plummeting down my back. His free hand palms the other side of my face, pulling me closer into him. His tongue moves in and out of my mouth, swirling around and teasing mine.Oh, my god, we’re kissing.
I’m kissing Mason.
Holy fuck.
Chapter Ten
Bailey
My knees go weak, tasting, feeling him. Mason’s tongue is gentle and slow but moves with purpose. I don’t know what I thought kissing him would be like, but it wasn’t this. I open my mouth wider, inviting him in and letting my entire body feel the sensations of being with him.
My body takes over as I frantically begin to fumble with the key card, attempting to slide it into the door from the back with only one hand.
“Let me help you,” Mason mutters into my lips as he’s grabbing the key card from my clumsy fingers.
Immediately, I hear the door unlatch. The sound vibrates inside my skull, making my pussy throb with anticipation but also a small hint of terror.
Our mouths still connected, I stumble backward in my heels, almost falling into the room. He quickly swings his arms around my back, bracing me from falling. I giggle into the sweetness of his whiskey-flavored mouth. Mason reaches around behind himself, slamming the door with one hand.
I hear the bang of the heavy hotel door, and suddenly, his hands and fingers are back, threading themselves through my hair.
I let out a soft moan when his lips traced my jawline, leaving desperate kisses along my neck. His fingertips run down the side of my shoulders, sliding along my arms and settling into the curves of my hips. Mason’s fingers hook under the hem of my uniform dress, raising it up to my waist. My back arches as I roll my core into him, searching for more. Feeling his strong and demanding grip on my hips causes my arousal to pool in my panties.
Oh god, what am I doing?
Panic quickly sets in when I realize what is happening between us. I quickly retreat, but my body instantly becomes anxious to be connected to him again. Unable to catch my breath, I run my hand down my face. “Oh, my god! What are we doing?”
Both of his hands are still in the air like I never backed up. He’s out of breath, too, trying desperately to form words. “I don’t know. But it looks like we were about to fuck.” His pupils are dilated, showing a similar disbelief.
My dress is bunched up at my waist, so I rapidly start to yank it back down over my black stockings. Mason lowers his arms and takes a step toward me, closing the gap that was created when I abruptly pulled away. The heaviness of my eyelids becomes overwhelming again the minute my body senses the heat radiating off of him.
“Would it have been so bad?” He taunts in a sly voice. “I could take good care of you.”
“We can’t do this. This will make things so much more awkward than they already are. And I still really don’t like you.”
He bites his bottom lip. “I think you do, and I also think you’re wondering how good I can take care of you and all your—needs.”
He’s right. I am fantasizing about what it would be like to have him and what it is that keeps women coming back for more. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to find out.
Mason’s hands find my waist again, bringing me into him. My body follows his command, slipping right back into his stable arms. He dips his head down, and I feel the wetness of his lips lightly feather my neck and the hollow of my collarbone. My skin tingles as my nerves respond to his delicate touch.
I’m hyperaware that it’s not just anyone who’s making my insides clench; it’s Mason Miller, and it feels so good.
“Fine, I’m attracted to you,” I admit. “But that doesn’t mean I think you’re a good person and, like I said, it would make things complicated.” My words come out airy and with a lack of confidence in what I’m saying.
Mason draws his head back to meet my eyes. I take this time to level my breathing.
“What if it didn’t have to be complicated?”
“What do you mean? How could it not?” My eyebrows furrow, searching his emerald eyes that have now turned a deep shade of green, for an explanation on how this could turn out well.
“I mean, what if we could have an arrangement where we just fuck each other whenever we want without the worry of troublesome feelings or expectations?” he suggests.
Mason’s proposition catches me off guard. He wants to sleep with me, and I apparently want to sleep with him, but how would this work without expectations? Could it mean I could still go on hating him without feeling guilty about it but also fuck him whenever I want to get rid of this sexual tension that, for some reason, is raging between us?
