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Chapter Ten
Hazel
“She seemed nice,” I said the minute the hotel room door closed. Mason secured the lock before sitting back down on the chair.
“Ariella? Yeah, we haven’t worked together long,” Mason said. He didn’t elaborate.
Okay. So maybe talking about Ariella wasn’t the best conversation starter. I turned off the television. It had been years since we’d seen one another. I didn’t want to watch T.V. or pretend like what we were doing was normal. I wanted to catch up with Mason, discover every flaw, and see how much he’d changed since high school when we were practically kids and inseparable.
“I’ve missed you,” I said and stood from the bed. I toed off my shoes and sauntered across the room toward Mason.
“Hard to tell since you never called.” His voice was gruff, his expression hard. There was so much he didn’t know, and I didn’t know how to tell him.
“Neither did you,” I said. We were both at fault for letting our lives go separate ways. He’d gone into the Army, and I was supposed to attend college in California. I had promised to write to him and he had every right to be angry. I’d broken that promise.
“I’d ask how you’ve been, but I can see that’s not a story with a happy ending,” Mason said.
“It could be,” I said. I towered above him and straddled his legs before sitting down on his lap, facing him. I wanted to jump back in time, have him take me with him, far from Chicago. It was too late to change the past, but I wanted to forget the time spent apart. “Tell me you don’t have a girlfriend or are married.” I reached for his left hand, bringing his digits up to my face. My lips latched onto his empty ring finger, grateful he appeared to be single.
“Hazel,” his tone warned me to stop.
I didn’t listen. I never listen.
I rolled my hips, teasing him, practically giving him a lap dance. With my fingers in his hair, I leaned forward, pushing my breasts against his chest. I wanted him more than I wanted anyone in my life. I’d loved him since we were fourteen. He was the one who had gotten away. “Promise you’ll protect me.”
I needed him like I needed air to breathe. He had no idea what I’d done to survive.
His forehead rested against mine. His warm, strong palm rested at my lower back. “You have my word. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Mason said.
I tangled my fingers in his hair.
His eyes shut.
My breath caressed against his lips. I wanted to kiss him. I needed to feel alive as I craved that connection with him. He was my chance at freedom from Franco, at the prospect of a normal life, not one where I was forced to marry a man I didn’t know and shipped off to another continent.
“I want you, Mason.” My lips crashed down hard on his, not waiting for him to stop me or tell me how this was a terrible idea. I didn’t care that we’d barely talked or reconnected. Right now, in that very moment, I needed to feel safe. Mason was my safety net. He would catch me if I fell.
His mouth opened in kind, responding to the kiss, his hand pulling me tighter against his body. Warm, strong hands slid beneath my thick sweatshirt. His gentle touch grazed my bare skin. I shuddered as he caressed my back, need outweighing everything else.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Mason asked between feverish kisses.
“Yes,” I said, staring deep into his gaze.
He lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed, lying me down. He crawled up the mattress, straddled me, and hovered above my body. In haste, I tugged at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.
Mason leaned down, whispering into my ear. “Do you realize you could get me fired doing this with a client?”
Staring up at him, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him down, needing to feel his weight crush me, protect me, and make me whole—need outweighing everything else. I had no good answer other than I wanted him. Was that enough? My fingers fumbled at the button on his jeans, and my hands trembled as I struggled to undo the metal.
“Hazel?” His fingers held mine in his hands. He sat on my hips, straddling me, before pinning my arms to the sides.
“I just—I need you, Mason.” I sounded desperate. He’d probably call in one of his buddies to take over and never want to see me again.
“Maybe we should slow down.” He pulled back and climbed off my body.
I whimpered before I realized the sound that slipped out past my throat. He’d done that to me, made me feel things I thought were impossible.
I didn’t want to slow down or stop. Breathing hard, gasping for air, I lay staring up at the ceiling.
