Page 71 of Fallen Hero

So did he, but now that I was back in his arms, all I could think about was what happened in the gym and how I really wanted it to happen again, preferably in a room with a bed.

“Are you worried about tonight?”

It took me a moment to recover from the conversational whiplash Mason had delivered.

I tipped my head back and to the side, taking in his strong profile. That five-o’clock shadow was now filled in to a proper beard, yet I could still see the tense set of his jaw.

“No.”

I watched him nod.

Eager to get back to our original conversation, I prompted, “So, are you going to tell me?”

“Tonight when we get home.”

“You’re telling me I walked all this way only to be denied?” I teased.

Mason snatched my wrist, guided it to his crotch, and pressed my hand against his erection.

Holy hell, Batman. I’d felt it earlier in the gym, but not like this, not with my hand on it, feeling the impressive outline.

“Shower’s worn off, sweetness. If I tell you the details of what I thought about while I stroked my cock, either you’ll be missing dinner completely or I’ll be escorting you with a stiff dick and no chance of hiding it. PDA is illegal in Dubai. I don’t know for certain, but I’m thinking walking around in public with an erection is frowned upon.”

Mason wasn’t wrong about PDA. Even married couples holding hands in public was iffy. Kissing, absolutely not. Walking around with a tent pole would definitely garner unwanted attention.

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to get a fine for your trouser tower, so I’ll wait for the details until we get home.” And since my hand was still resting on his package, I took the chance and gave it a squeeze.

That earned me a grunt and a “Jesus.”

“You claim I like to live dangerously, yet it was you who put my hand on your cock.”

“What can I say, I like living on the edge.”

“Of insanity?” I shot back.

Mason tipped his chin, leaned close, and right before he kissed me, he shared, “We passed insanity a few hundred yards back, sweetness.”

This kiss was nothing like the one earlier. He kept it light and gentle—a sweet tease. His hands didn’t wander, but mine did—up and down his shaft until he broke the kiss with a groan.

“Go. Finish getting ready.”

“Life sucks,” I grumbled, not wanting to stop what we were doing.

“It’ll suck less if you get your ass in gear and go change into what dress you’re going to torture me with all night, so we can get to this bullshit dinner and get home and pick up where we left off.”

“Promise?” I whispered.

“Yeah, sweetness, I promise.”

I couldn’t read Mason’s expression, but I felt his words someplace deep inside of me where he shouldn’t’ve been able to reach.

Maybe it was time to start reinforcing those walls around my heart.

Chapter Seventeen

“Keep your shit,” Fallon’s amused voice said through my earpiece.

Bad timing.