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“Oh, Mason. She’s precious.” A Doberman pinscher puppy lay zonked on a faded blanket. The dog looked exactly like her own Dobie, Minx, had once upon a time. Nearly a decade ago. In another lifetime, it seemed. “Please tell me she’s not here because she’s sick.”
“Nope. Just getting fixed.”
Relief forced a sigh from her, but the tension didn’t disappear. “Can we go?”
“I’m an idiot.” Mason stepped between her and the kennel. “I thought seeing the puppy would make you feel warm and fuzzy, but it made you miss your dog all over again. Shit.”
That he realized and cared about her feelings tugged at something inside her. He was probably this considerate with everyone, though, and she’d be a fool to read too much into it. Yes, they had great chemistry. Sexual and otherwise. That didn’t mean they shared some deep, meant-for-each-other type of connection. She was old enough to know those existed in books and movies. Period.
“I loved seeing the puppy. Truly. And I’m sure you can get me back to warm with next to no effort.” Yup, that sinful smile of his ought to do the trick. She smoothed her hands over the blue fabric that matched his eyes. “You’re aware of how hot you look in this scrub top, right?”
He laughed and shook his head, to which she issued him thewhateverlook. Of course he knew. She wasn’t the first woman to paw him today. Probably wouldn’t be the last, either. Unless she marked him as her territory.
“That’s some kind of wicked smile,” he said. “I haven’t seen it before, but I’m pretty sure I like it.”
She slipped her hands under the loose hemline and dragged her nails over his chest, enjoying the goose bumps cropping up in response. His nipples joined the club. Very nice, but she was more interested in his reaction below the belt. She snaked one hand between the denim and his flat stomach. His erection twitched in her palm.
“I think we should skip lunch and go to your house.”
“I’m willing to go hungry.” He clasped her wrist, preventing her from withdrawing her hand. He darted a glance at the open door. “Not yet. Stroke me first. I want to feel your hand pumping my cock.”
“Here? What about your employees?” The rational side of her protested. And lost. Something about Mason brought her naughty side to the forefront. “You don’t think I’ll do it.”
“You’ll do it. I can see in your eyes how much you want to.” He opened his jeans and fed his cock through the fly in his boxers. This man she’d met only days ago already knew her sexual proclivities better than her ex of seventeen years ever had.
She wrapped her fingers around the base and slowly slid her fist up his cock. Down and back, down and back, swirling the pad of her thumb over the slit at the top of each stroke. His eyes stayed locked with hers. His grin disappeared, becoming a line that showed his strain. Served him right. She smiled and brought her thumb to her lips. Licked the drops of pre-come with the tip of her tongue.
His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat as he swallowed hard. “Jesus.”
“I think we’re all done here.” She fought the urge to drop to her knees and suck him to the root. Instead, she tucked him away and took a step back. Breathing room. She needed it as badly as he did.
Mason hustled her through the hallway, past the unhappy-looking blonde at the check-in desk, then into the parking lot. “You’re driving.” He opened her door even though she’d unlocked it with the remote.
“What a gentleman.” She smiled up at him and slid into the driver’s seat.
“You’re gonna want to take that back.” His eyes sparkled as he closed her door. Not a carefree, sunshiny sparkle. It was pure, mischievous lust. The kind that made her blood run hot.
She squeaked out, “Where to?” when he joined her, filling the passenger side of the sedan with his mass and his presence.
“Bruce Street. You know it?” He waited for her to nod and start driving, then unbuckled and adjusted his seat to make room for those long legs of his. But he didn’t put the seatbelt back on. Instead he leaned over, nudged her head to the side and kissed his way down her neck.
“Mmm, that’s nice. Very gentlemanly too,” she said, totally baiting him.
His head ducked under her right arm. He caught her nipple in his mouth, biting it through the jersey top and bra. Hard enough to make her jerk in surprise. And send heat surging to all the good spots.
“Still think I’m a gentleman?”
She nodded, eager for him to prove otherwise.
He pushed her knees open and bunched her skirt up to her hips. “Eyes on the road,” he said when she peeked down at his hand stroking the damp silk of her panties. He pushed the thin strip of fabric aside, penetrating her fully, twisting at the deepest point to bring his knuckles against her clit.
Urgent, familiar longing kicked in. All she needed was a little more friction… She thrust her hips forward and he chuckled, obliging her by using his thumb to rub circles over her bud. Her eyelids fluttered. God, she had to keep her eyes open or this would be her last orgasm ever. The steering wheel got slick under her white-knuckled grip. Her thighs shook. She could barely keep her foot on the gas pedal.
“You missed the turn.” He withdrew his hand and sat back in his seat, rubbing his fingers between his lips.
What the—he was stopping—now? She gaped at him.
“Babe, I’ve watched you while you come. Several times. It’s the sexiest thing in the world, but you’d crash the car if I let you have an orgasm while driving.”
