Mason
I’m nervous. I don’t remember the last time I was really nervous around a girl. I mean, even with Eve, we always had a friendship first that made things so easy when we hung out. That was a big part of what convinced me we were meant to be together. Love should be easy, right?
Trix is different. She constantly has me on edge, walking the fine line of my sanity and hypersensitive to her every move. Although our conversations are light and there’s no uncomfortable silence between us, the prospect of being alone with her sends a battalion of butterflies loose in my gut.
I sip on my coffee and let the caffeine charge through my veins, giving me a second wind. Truth is, after the movie tonight, I was ready to go home and crash, but the opportunity to spend time with Trix alone is too good to pass up.
“Hang on.” I hit the four-wheel drive and pull off the small road and through the mountains.
Small rocks spit from the tires and knock against the wheel well. She squeals with laughter and holds on to the sissy bar while we blaze a trail over rocks, gravel, and small plants to a clearing up ahead.
I stop and put the truck in park. “We’re here.”
“That was gnarly!” She’s grinning big, childlike excitement in her eyes that makes my chest swell with pride. Her head swivels around, leaning forward to peer out the windshield. “Where are we?”
I jerk my head to my door. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She holds up one long tanned leg, and I resist, just barely, the urge to take in the view she’s flashing from between them. “I don’t have on my hiking heels.”
“Hmm . . . good point.” I chew my lip then hold up one finger. “Hold on.” I slide from my seat and circle around to the passenger side of the truck.
I open the door to find her staring at me. “What are you doing?” She laughs as I reach over her into the backseat and grab my flannel button up shirt.
“Put this on.” When she leans in, I maneuver it around her back and allow myself to get close and drink in her scent as she slips her arms through the arm holes. “Good now . . . ” I run both hands from her knee to her calf, groaning at the smooth texture of her skin, and pushing away fantasies of what her legs would feel like wrapped around my hips. Once to her foot, I slide one shoe off, massaging the arch of her delicate foot before moving over to repeat the process on the other. Fuck. I never thought of myself as a foot-fetish guy, but Trix’s feet are enough to make me curious.
“Mmm . . . that feels good.” The guttural groan of pleasure from her lips makes my dick instantly hard.
“You feel good.” Everything about her feels incredible: her voice, her touch, and her lips. Fuck . . . I need to taste her lips. I lean over and hold myself just inches from her, so close I can feel the heat of her body and absorb the vibration of her quickened breath. Her big eyes rimmed in black blink up at me, silently begging. I scoop my hand under her knees, and another behind her back, pulling her from the truck.
Her hands fly to my neck and lock there to steady herself. She doesn’t struggle or protest, but willingly gives her weight to me while I move her to the truck bed.
“Hold on, baby.” I turn my head and cringe. Shit, the endearment came so easily, and I hope it’s not too much to send her running.
She squeezes me tighter, and I release her enough to pop the tailgate and gently place her on it.
“Thank you.” She pulls the flannel around her body. Even though it’s summer in Vegas and not cold, it tends to run a little cooler in the mountains, and she’s wearing next to nothing under my shirt. “It’s so dark out here.” She looks around. “Are there bears?”
“No.” I sit up next to her, close enough that our thighs are touching. “No bears.”
She turns her eyes toward me. “So, what is it? Why are we here?” The lust in her voice is so heavy it’s all I can do to keep from pushing her back, mounting her, and fucking her senseless.
I lean in and brush my lips along her jaw to her ear. “Lie down.”
She trembles and sucks in a lungful of air. “Okay.”
Slowly she lowers herself back, and I know by her quick intake of breath she finally sees why we’re here.
“Oh my . . .”
I grin into my shoulder and lean back to lie alongside her. “Amazing, right?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” The wonder in her voice makes my chest feel light. “Wow, there are so many.”
“The lights on The Strip make the stars impossible to see, but up here, we get the unobstructed view.”
The dark sky is alight with billions of flickering stars, clusters of some that are lighter and darker, and a smattering of tiny ones that make up the Milky Way. We sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the quiet company of each other.
I’ve been coming up here for a while, and after I found this clearing on a hike, I thought it would be the perfect place to come see the stars. I’d planned on bringing Eve, but after she made it clear she wanted Cameron, I decided she didn’t deserve my sharing this with her. But Trix, she makes what is already beautiful absolutely breathtaking.
She lifts her hand and paints the sky with wide brushes of her fingers. “They almost seem so close you could touch them.”
“You wanna touch one; just ask.”
She giggles as her hand continues to swipe through the sky. “I do, can you get one down for me?”
“Your wish is my command, m’lady.” I hold up my hands as if I’m aiming a shotgun, make the “cha-chic” sound of me cocking my rifle. “Look out. It’s about to rain stars.” I push an impressive explosion sound from my lips.
She laughs and shields her face from the downpour of fake stars. “Oh here, let me get a few for you too.” She holds up one delicate hand, three fingers tucked in, pointer out, thumb up. “Pitchu. Pitchu, pitchu, pitchu.”
“What the fuck you shooting with? Peas?”
She shows me her gun hand. “Peas! I’ll have you know this is a very powerful weapon.”
I shake my head, fighting the urge to pull her on top of me and taste her lips. “I don’t know. Sounded like a peashooter to me.”
“It’s not the size of the gun; it’s how you use it.” She shrugs.
“Is that right?”
“Um . . . no, actually.” She grins wide and sexy. “It’s more about the size.”
We laugh until humor fades into silence as we stare up into the sky.
“So, are you going to make out with me under the stars, or just make me lie here fantasizing about it.”
My body springs up, and I rein in my lust enough to slowly lean over and slide my knee between her legs rather than pouncing. “Fantasizing?” I rest my forehead against hers. “Tell me.”
Her hands sift into my hair and grip. “Better, how about I show you?”
I tilt my head as she brings it down to hers, and I press into her full soft lips. My teeth rake against her bottom lip, requesting entrance. She grins and opens to me, allowing me to delve into the delicious cavern of her mouth. So slick, warm, and so fucking sweet. She moans and arches her back, pressing her chest into mine, searching for more contact. I slide my hand up under the flannel shirt and splay my hand on her belly.
I hear the sound of her bare feet hitting the tailgate, and then she shifts, pushing herself back further into the truck bed and breaking our kiss. I look to see her breasts are now at my eyes. I trace the line of stomach, moving up and up until my fingertips hit one pebbled nipple and . . . no bra.
“Fuckin’ hell.” My hips flex on instinct, pressing my hard-on into her leg, searching for the friction that will dull the ache.
Her legs snap together to lock around mine, and she shifts as if she’s putting out a flame between her thighs. “You’re teasing me.” She reaches down and pulls up her tight little shirt to expose one plump breast. “Take it, please.”
I drop my mouth to her and suck deep, rolling my tongue in slow torturous laps over the sensitive tip. I feel rather than see her hand move from her belly, lower, and lower until . . . I grasp her wrist just as her fingers dip between her legs. “No. That’s mine.”
What the fuck? That’s mine?
I don’t know where it came from, and I brace for her to unleash hell on me for claiming her pussy as my own, but she shocks the hell out of me and smiles. I push up and take her mouth in a deep kiss, using my tongue and teeth to pull greedily at her lips. I run my hand along her inner thigh, groaning into her mouth and drinking in her soft sigh when I hit the small piece of satin between her legs.
Her knees fall open, and I run the length of my finger up and down, up and down, over her panties, pressing in deeper with each pass. She rips her mouth from mine, sucking in quick pants of air.
Between her perfect breasts and her full suckable lips, I can’t decide which one to hit first. Rather than drown in her taste, I watch her expression as I move her panties aside and dip my fingers into her body.
She cries out, and my jaw locks down, teeth gritting against the urge to pound my fingers between her legs until she screams my name. The visual of her writhing against me, grinding down on my hand and meeting my fingers thrust for thrust becomes too much.
I nip at her bare breast. “Other one.”
She complies, popping the other breast free. I take turns lapping at her tits while finger fucking her so hard they jump in my mouth. “Mase . . . don’t stop.”
Mase. My eyes roll back in my head, and I suck her deeper into my throat.
She clenches down around my fingers, her heels to the tailgate, thrusting up hard enough that her ass lifts off the bed while she chases down her release. My mouth waters, wanting to taste her and feel the flow of her orgasm against my tongue, but I can tell I’m too late.
Her tiny body stiffens seconds before she detonates. I push back and watch her back arch, her hips lift into my hand, and her mouth open as a long moan falls from her lips. Her hands fist my shirt as she rides my fingers, milking every last bit of her orgasm.
I rock my hips into her thigh, pretending we’ve just come together and mimicking the movement of a slow float back to earth. But every rub of my boxers against my dick, every rasp of fabric against the tender flesh, propels me on.
She lies there, my fingers still knuckle deep inside her while I dry fuck her hip. I bend down, suck her tit in my mouth and ride her harder.
“Don’t stop.” She rolls her hips on my fingers again, ready for more.
I growl, wanting release so badly it hurts, but more than that, wanting to taste her. As I slide my fingers from her body, she shivers.
I move from her breast with a wet pop of suction and kiss down her belly. Straddling her hips, I hook her under the arms and push her up further into the truck bed.
“Mason?”
“Shh . . . gotta taste you.” Her skirt is around her waist, and I hook my fingers in her panties to pull them off.
“I . . . I can’t.” Her hands come to mine in what I assume to be her help. “Stop!”
I tear myself from her body at her command, my heart hammering in my chest. “What?” I blink away the fog of lust and arousal. “Did I hurt you?”
She scoots back, covering her body with the flannel and sitting up. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.”
If that isn’t a cold fucking bucket of ice water to the nuts.
“That’s okay.” I take in a deep breath of mountain air and try to breathe through the disappointment. “I’m sorry. I’m moving too fast.”
She avoids my eyes. “No, it’s not that. I mean”—she shrugs—“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re partially right. I’ve never been one to say no to a hook up.”
Anger flares quick and hot. “No, fuck no. I never thought that about you.” Did I? Well, I don’t anymore. Unless, is that all this is?
“It’s okay if you did.” She pulls a rubber band from her hair and shakes out her messy braid. “I’m not going to lie. I like using my body for pleasure, and I’m not above giving it just because I know I can.”
I swallow back the sour taste her words evoke.
“But a girl has to draw the line somewhere, right?” An awkward giggle rumbles in her throat.
I sit with one ass cheek to the tailgate and rub the back of my neck, trying to force blood back up and into my brain. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve never had a man, um, go down.”
“What?” No fucking way. Curiosity sizzles through my blood. “Never?”
“Nope.” She dips her chin and twirls a long strand of her hair. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and that’s okay, but it’s something I’ve been saving.”
“For who?”
She cringes. “You’ll think I’m stupid.”
I angle more towards her, my fingers itching to comfort and erase her insecurity. “Not at all, but no shit, I’m curious as hell.”
“I was raised that a woman should save herself for her husband. Obviously, I messed that up, but I thought if I could save one thing for him, that would be it.”
“Huh.” I climb up into the truck bed and sit next to her. “So everything else—”
“I’ve done. Yeah.” She picks at a loose thread on the button of the flannel shirt.
“But never—?”
“No. Men only care about getting off, so it’s never been a problem before.” She shrugs.
“Sounds like you’ve been with the wrong men.” My fists numb and my jaw aches.
She blinks up at me. “Stop staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.”
I move my gaze from her, wondering what the hell I must look like from her perspective and not wanting to make her ashamed or embarrassed.
“What are you thinking?” She whispers and concern etches her question.
“I think”—I meet her stare—“you’re pretty spectacular.”
With the light from a billion stars, I watch her full lips pull into a grin. “You do?”
“Yeah, Trix, I do.” The feel of her name from my lips is off now, like something has changed between us. She’s no longer Trix the exotic dancer, but a girl, a woman who is saving a very intimate part of herself for only one man—one very fucking lucky man who will end up being her partner for life, protecting her, shielding her from heartbreak, cherishing her love, and ensuring her happiness.
“Hey, can you tell me what your real name is?” I have to know. With every bit of my soul, I want to know who this woman is outside of the G-strings and stiletto heels.
Her face twists in confusion. “My real name?”
“I’m assuming Trix is a made-up name, you know, to create and entice the fantasy.”
She bites her lip, thinking. “Hmm. And what would you say is so enticing about the name Trix?”
Seems pretty obvious to me. She can’t be clueless about it, but she wants to hear me say it. I’ll play. “Trix is a sweet tasting cereal that melts in your mouth. It’s like candy, sweet like you.”
“Ah, aren’t you the charmer.” She holds up a finger. “I’ve also heard Trix implies I ‘turn tricks,’ like I’m a hooker.”
I shrug one shoulder, ashamed to admit it, but . . . “Yeah, that too. Creating the fantasy.”
She laughs and drops her chin. “If my dad hears this, he’ll wish they’d renamed me,” she mumbles.
“So, what’s your real name?”
She peeks up at me and smiles. “Beatriks, with a ‘k.’ It’s the Russian form of Beatrice.”
“Your real name is Trix?”
“Yeah.” She laughs, and the sound shoots straight to my groin.
“Wow.” I study her: big eyes that, even though it’s too dark to see, I know are blue with the slightest hint of lavender, full lips, and under all the blond and purple hair is a natural blond that I bet lightens bright white in the sun. “Beatriks.”
“My brothers and sisters call me Bea, like bee-ah.”
“Bea.” I tuck a few loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “That’s cute. I like it.”
I like it. I like her, and fuck if all this information about her isn’t making me even more curious.