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He loves me. Maselovesme.
He lovesme.
And I love him.
Everything else will sort itself out.
“You need to be quiet,” Mase tries to kiss away my giggles with a smile as wide as I’ve ever seen it. “They’ll hear you.” He pulls off my shirt, somehow trapping my arms in the sleeves, which makes me laugh even more.
“But I want to tell them. We need to tell everyone.”
He wrestles my shirt free. “Can we at least wait a couple of minutes?”
“But we need to plan what to say. How to say it. Who to tell first.” It’s becoming very difficult to stop Mase from doing the things he’s so very good at doing, especially since I very much enjoy him doing the things he’s very good at doing. “We need to talk about this,” I manage, my protests becoming weaker as further clothes are removed.
“Darlin’, we do,” Mase says as he drops kisses on my bare stomach. “I want to hear all about how much you like it when I do this.” He nips at my hip. “And this. And—”
“Mase.” I laugh, wondering how I’ll be able to refuse him anything. I’ve never felt like this before—so alive and vibrant andcherished.
Mase is very good at cherishing.
“Fiona.” He slides back up to press his lips against mine with a promise of more. Eyes shining, dimple—I touch his dimple. “We’ll talk about whatever you want,” he promises. “Butlater. Take a minute to enjoy this.”
“A minute? That’s all?”
Mase laughs as he dips his head to the curve of my breast. “No, ma’am.”
I run my fingers through his thick hair and never want this moment to end.
“Fiona!” I hear the voice outside the door and I freeze. “Fiona, you better be in there!”
Mase raises his head. “Who’s that?”
“You have to hide.” I shove him away from me and yank up the sheet to cover myself.
“What the—?” Even in my urgency, his look of hurt spears through me.
“Bexley! She’s here!” I shove him again, this time sending him tumbling right off the bed.
In all of his naked glory. “Hang on—”
“Fiona, you’ve got to see—” The door to my room bursts open, and Bexley is there.
Bexley is there, and so is Mase. Naked. Now standing beside the bed.
Her jaw drops, and yes, her gaze does slide downwards before snapping back to me. “Fiona!”
Mase quickly yanks at the corner of the sheet, resulting in a tug-of-war between us before he hops back into bed beside me.
“I told you to stay away from her!” Bexley shouts at Mase.
“I think she’s old enough to make her own decisions.” To his credit, Mase keeps his voice calm, as if he often finds himself in the situation of cowering in bed after being interrupted during an intimate moment.
Which possibly is a frequent occurrence for him.
But no longer.
“Not with you. Not when you’re…you!” Bexley’s face is red and blotchy and her voice keeps rising, ignoring me and focusing her rage on Mase. “Get out!”
