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Mr Gorgeous paused before sinking into the seat beside her, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. Dark eyes narrowed her way. “You ask a lot of questions, Lacey.”
The sound of her name on his tongue pulled a thread at the centre of her core. Down, girl. “Three questions aren’t a lot.”
A snort shot out around the room. “It sounds like it to my ears.”
“Maybe your ears should hear something else.” Like my screams as I writhe beneath you.
The corners of his mouth pulled upwards in a devilish grin and Lacey fought not to wriggle on the spot. Damn, the man could smile. “I’m good for now, thanks.”
Lacey took another sip of her coffee and suppressed another groan. “At the risk of annoying your ears any further, you got a name? I can’t keep calling you Mr Gorgeous in my head.”
Those dark eyes narrowed slightly and for a moment, she didn’t think he would answer. Finally, the corners of his mouth curled upwards, ever so slowly. “Mason.”
Alarm bells started ringing in Lacey’s ears. Mason. Mace. Pretty close. This has got to be the siblings Sam wanted me to find. The edges of her own mouth widened further. “Nice to meet you, Mason. And just to show you that I’m not a Nosey Nancy, you can ask me a question if you like.”
“What are you really doing here?”
Something in his tone stopped her. There was a depth to his words that prevented her from saying the generic answer she had spent the last hour trying to perfect. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted, unable to stop herself from speaking the truth, the words coming out more breathless than she’d anticipated. “Something drew me out here, but I don’t know what. I can’t explain it.”
A muscle clenched in his jaw and his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck,” he whispered, the word as tight as the expression stretching over his face. “Why now of all times?”
A deep line etched Lacey’s brow as she set the coffee mug onto the wooden floor beside her feet since he didn’t have a table nearby. “I don’t understand,” she said, honesty lacing through them.
“You wouldn’t,” Mason sighed, opening his eyes. They burned with an undecipherable intensity. “And I didn’t want this to happen.”
“What didn’t you want to happen?”
Expecting an answer, Lacey waited for him to open his mouth, to explain what he meant. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed there, the battle from his face yesterday resuming its position. Lacey sat there, the nerves in her gut rising up to her chest, the nausea threating to burn its way up her throat.
She inhaled another shaky breath. “What didn’t you want to happen?” she repeated.
Cursing, Mason twisted in his seat so that he faced her, the gleam in those mesmerising eyes darkening with the promise of something. The nerves transformed into something else, something deeper, something that cut through her bones, through her blood, and straight into her soul.
Slowly, he reached out and cupped strong, warm fingers around the back of her neck. “This,” he said, before slamming his mouth onto hers.
