PROLOGUE
Menace
January
“Jesus, please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing tonight.”
At the sound of my eighteen-year-old’s too deep voice, I turn around. Like I find myself doing more often than not now, I stop a second and take in the moment. In a few months, he won’t be here to make fun of what I’m wearing.
God, when did Caleb get to be a man standing in front of me? Older than I was when he came into the world screaming and shaking. I can still remember when they placed him in my arms and told me I was responsible for his entire life. He was so small, and I remember looking up at the nurse, asking if it was okay to hold him. Like I needed permission or something. I’ve taken the responsibility of raising him seriously – because I wanted to – but also because there was no one else to do it. He and I, we’ve come a very long way together.
“What’s wrong with it?” I press my hands against my chest, smoothing the shirt down.
He rolls his eyes, a grin tilting up the side of his mouth. With that move, it’s like looking in a mirror and seeing myself. “Everything, Dad, everything.”
“Then why don’t you help me? I haven’t been out on a date in more years than I care to count.” At least on one where I asked the woman out and I wasn’t set up by someone with good intentions. This date? It’s all mine. “You went out on one last night. Work your magic.”
Looking back, I realize this is probably the moment, where I completely lost control of the situation.
* * *
I’m not a nervous guy. Not usually. Being a member of the Moonshine Task Force requires I keep my cool, but tonight, as I stand in front of a restaurant in Birmingham, my hands shake, my palms sweat. Rubbing the heels of my hands on the jeans Caleb made me change into, I cross my booted ankles. The shoes he also recommended, because I looked too much like a dad in my own choices. I have to admit what he put me in shows the muscles off I work hard on, but at the same time I kinda feel like a douche. I’ve never been a flashy kind of guy with anything. Gripping my phone, I nervously look at it, searching for a text message that she may be running late, or even one that she may be calling this off.
However, when I hear the unmistakable click of high heels against the pavement, I glance up, and thank the heavens above Caleb shamed me into changing. Pushing off the wall, I slowly make my way toward the woman coming in my direction.
Karina – who I’m meeting tonight thanks to the dating profile Caleb set me up with – had been cute in her profile picture. Her other pictures had been playful, one or two of them sexy, but goddamn my jaw is about to hit the ground. Flesh and bone is so much more beautiful than photography in this instance. The woman walking toward me, with a sway to her hips in skin-tight jeans is sex on a stick. I’m the type of man who isn’t into super feminine women. I’m not into dresses and florals, I’m into jeans, shirts, leather, and everything this woman is wearing turns me on.
For the first time in years, I allow my eyes to seriously feast on a woman, on the picture she makes in front of me as she eats up the distance between us. Starting at the top of her head, I approve of the just-been-fucked tousled curls. The lights from the parking lot give her an ethereal glow in the January early-evening darkness. She’s one of those unicorns whose hair doesn’t look truly blonde or naturally brown. Moving down, her face doesn’t look painted on, and I give a silent prayer of thanks for that. The white shirt she wears underneath a black leather vest is tight enough for me to make out her curves underneath. Phone numbers and first names are all we’ve exchanged besides the pictures on the website, and I’m dying to hear her voice.
“Karina?” I approach her, my hand out.
She stops in front of me, extending her own hand out, a confident smile on her face. I love women who have confidence, yet still allow themselves to be vulnerable. Her poised demeanor is already winning her bonus points with me. “Mason?”
Her voice is raspy; sounding like we just had a round of break-the-bed sex, her accent not southern, more northern, but it suits her. She sounds almost like I imagined she would. Our hands clasp together and goddamn fireworks go off in the distance. Hand to God, I feel more chemistry when the palms of our hands touch than I have in the last three women I’ve been set up with. A few of those I’d taken out on more than one date, one I’d even slept with, but this woman; she excites me. Truthfully more than with any woman in my history.
“Glad you could make it.” I release her hand, before tucking mine in the front pockets of my jeans to keep them from reaching out to touch her. She probably wouldn’t enjoy being fondled within two minutes of us meeting one another.
“I’ve never met someone in person from the app.” She pushes a curl that’s sticking to her lip gloss back as we stand in the cool night air, staring at each other. The way she’s slowly looking me up and down before her eyes settle on mine sends a thrill through my body.
“Me neither,” I admit. “But I figure somebody’s gotta pop my cherry. Might as well be a gorgeous woman like you.”
Her eyes flutter up and down my body again, reminding me of the way mine had taken in hers. “Can’t say that I’m disappointed either. Had I known they made single dads like you, I might have given it a shot before now.”
Pleasure radiates in my stomach; I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I’ve disappointed so many in my life that her words make me feel like I’ve finally done something right.
“Shall we?”
Putting on my best manners, I open the door for her, slightly pressing my palm to her lower back as we walk through the entrance. As we’re seated, I can’t help but hope this night isn’t the biggest waste of time ever.
* * *
“They’re about to close.” I motion at the now empty dining room, watching as some of the waiters are already starting to vacuum their areas, wipe down tables, and stack chairs.
“I guess we should go.” Karina uncrosses her legs and stands up from the table. We’d paid an hour before, but we’d been having such a good time talking about our favorite TV shows and music, neither one of us wanted to go. It was nice, not having the heavy first date stuff with her tonight. This was fun, the best first date I’ve ever had, and something I didn’t realize I needed.
“Yeah, I guess we should.” I stand along with her, digging my wallet out of my back pocket before throwing down a generous tip. We’d kept this table for the whole night, and not once had the waitress acted like we were an annoyance. “Let me walk you to your car.”
The fact she’s parked under a security light scores her points with me. We’ve never talked about professions, though, so I don’t want to get into safety precautions. All she needs to hear is some jaded cop telling her about the do’s and don’ts of safety at night. Nothing sexier, I’m sure.
“Mason.” She stops me with a tug on my hand. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this night to end.
Dragging her into my arms, I circle an arm around her waist. “Take a ride with me?” I motion to my Jeep, hoping like hell she’ll say yes but knowing that it’s probably a bad idea. Fuck it; I’ve made worse decisions before.
The nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Holding hands, we go back across the lot to where my Jeep sits, also under a light. It’s a beacon on this night, and something tells me my life is never going to be the same again.
Karina
My heart pounds as he pulls me across the parking lot to where the manliest Jeep I’ve ever seen sits. It’s a four door with streaks of mud along the quarter panels; a large tire rests on the back door. There are bits of chrome, and it appears the colors are black and a dark cherry. All the way around, sexy.
“You like to get dirty, huh?” I didn’t mean the phrase the way it came out, but now that it’s there, I don’t take it back either. I motion to the mud caked on strips of paint, tilting my head toward the tires that are covered in clay.
His dark eyes meet mine, and a smile slowly spreads across his stubble-covered face. I get the feeling he didn’t shave for our date, and I’m one hundred percent okay with that. “I do.” His voice is deep as he walks me around to the passenger side, opening the door for me. “But the dirt you’re talking about is thanks to my son and some friends of his.”
How cute is that? He took his son out mudding. It was probably that little guy’s dream come true. Before I go any further, I want to make sure there’s not some woman hiding in the background with a Fatal Attraction plot for her baby daddy. “Are you close with his mom? I know from your profile you aren’t married or divorced.”
A pained look crosses his face. “She’s not in the picture, hasn’t seen him since he was a baby. I’m a single dad in the truest sense of the word.”
He helps me up into the Jeep, then I turn in my seat. “Well, I for one, am glad you could get away tonight.” It’s got to be hard for him to find a sitter – or a sitter who doesn’t hit on him, because my God, this man is hot.
“Me too.” He leans in so far that our bodies are touching. Finally completely touching. It’s been over a year since a man has touched me. After I was humiliated before my wedding, I swore off men until I joined the dating app. But there’s something about this man, about the way he touches me, about the way he looks at me, the giddiness I’ve had in my stomach since I first saw him waiting for me tonight. I’m craving that physical connection, and before I know it, I’ve bridged the gap between us and fused our lips together.
There’s a surprised mmm from him deep in his throat. It’s a growl, husky with the depth of its sexiness. It spreads goosebumps all over my body, and I know then, as I feel his big hands wrap around my hips, that I’m a goner.
* * *
One day in the future, someone will ask me how I ended up in the backseat of a Jeep, in a restaurant parking lot in Birmingham, Alabama with the hottest first date I’ve ever had. When they ask me that question, I’ll be honest: I have absolutely no idea how it happened. One minute, we were necking, him standing outside the vehicle, propped up against my body, my legs spread to allow him room. The next, our fingers were fighting for the rights to undress as much and as fast as the space we occupied would allow in the backseat.
“I don’t normally do this,” I pant as his rough palm travels up my stomach, until it encounters the lace of my bra.
Removing his lips from my neck nibbling slightly with his teeth, he whispers in my ear. “Can I?”
It takes me much longer than I care to admit, to figure out he’s asking for permission to move the lace down. What a fucking gentleman. “Oh, please.” I tilt my head back giving him complete control over where he wants to put those lips of his. Exposing my neck, and any other part he wishes to gorge on.
“God I wish I was shorter,” he moans as he moves one of his forearms under my thigh, lifting it to give him more room to work.
“No, fuck no, don’t be shorter. Don’t be smaller, don’t be anything…” Oh Jesus, he’s grinding into me now. I breathe out a short pant, grasp his shoulders with my nails, and wish we had a bed to do this in. “Don’t be anything other than what you are.” I wrap that leg around his waist, digging my heel into his ass, needing the friction of our bodies rubbing together.
He abandons my neck, moving down to where my hard nipple is pressing against the fabric of my shirt. I want to lift it, expose my entire body to his eyes, look down and see his lips wrapped around my flesh. But he stops my hands as I go to lift my shirt.
“Don’t wanna get arrested for indecent exposure,” he growls as he takes the turgid tip through the material, swirling his tongue around it.
The move is one of the most erotic ever done to me. I can feel the motion, but not the wetness of his saliva for a few moments as it soaks through the cotton. “Oh yes!” I grasp his hair in my fingers, thrusting up into his mouth, shivering when I feel the scrape of his teeth.
There’s flurry of activity where in the space of a few minutes, one of my shoes is kicked off, one pant leg, one side of my panties is pushed down to allow me a little room to move, and his jeans are pushed down below his hips. When I feel the velvet hardness of his cock against my thigh, I reach down, circling my fingers around the girth. He’s hot and hard, the skin stretched tightly along the crest of his head. Both of us moan loudly. Blindly, he’s reaching into his back pocket. Hearing the unmistakable crinkle of a condom wrapper, I use my palm to jack the length.
“Don’t go too fast.” His voice is guttural, like he’s swallowed gravel or smoked a pack of cigarettes.
“No such thing as too fast.” I open my eyes, watching him, watching me as I continue pumping his erection.
“Yeah there is, sweetness. It’ll be when I spill all over that smooth thigh of yours, because this is the hottest thing I’ve seen in a really long time.”
I wonder how long it’s been for him. Does he go straight home after work, and be a good dad to his son? Does he make do with showers and porn? I want him to make do with me.
My eyes widen as he licks the palm of his hand and slaps it against my pussy. My body jumps, vibrates, as I feel the shock all the way through my system and into my core. “I’m sufficiently wet,” I assure him, needing him to hurry this up, needing him to get rid of the ache.
“So you are.” He takes his index and middle fingers, pushing them in, stretching me. I pull them into my channel, no problem, all I want is more. More of anything and everything he wants to give me.
When I feel a trail of precum on my thigh, I lift my eyes to his. “Unless you want to lose it before you get it in me, now might be the perfect time.”
His brown eyes flair with desire as he levers himself off of me, his forearm flexes as he pushes the condom down on his hard length. When he thrusts home, a cry erupts from the back of my throat. It’s been so long since I felt the push of a man inside me, so long since I felt desirable, and an even longer time since I wasn’t going through the motions.
As we push and pull against each other, as my nails dig into his forearms, as his sweat drips off his face onto me, I’m aware that what we’re sharing isn’t something people share every day. There’s something hanging in the air, something I’m not ready to put a label to, but it’s not just a one-night stand. I know in the end, that’s what will scare me.
“Karina, you grip me so good.” He digs his fingers into the globes of my ass, pulling me tighter against him, adding a grind when he pushes all the way in. He rubs against my clit, and my eyes roll back in my head as I let myself experience this. I don’t question it, don’t let my mind take me away from it. I feel it.
“Fuck me, Mason, just fuck me.”
And as I give myself over to him, I let it wash over me. I let the orgasm take me like the tide at the beach. It comes crashing in, before it leaves a peaceful wreck in its wake.
It’s a beautiful mess as we come and he groans into my neck, I wonder how I’m going to let my walls down, how I’m going to recover from opening myself up so wide to this man.
This man, who I just met, who has just given me the most body-depleting orgasm of my life. This man who obviously has a small child, and a life I know nothing about. My feverish skin feels clammy as I realize the repercussions of what we’ve done.
Quickly, I make my excuses, sliding from the back of the Jeep, clothes barely fastened, looking every bit like I just got fucked. He hurries to catch up with me, stuffing himself back into his pants and getting buttoned right as we reach my car.
I don’t even remember what I say to him, but what doesn’t leave me is the sad look on his face in the rearview mirror as I drive away. I’m sad too, but I’m totally not ready for the force of nature that is Mason – whatever his last name is – because we never shared that.
One thing, however, is for sure. I won’t be forgetting Mason ever, or this night for at least a few weeks. The tingle in my thighs, the bruises on my neck, and the soreness in my core will be reminders of the onetime Karina Holland fucked some guy off a dating app in a parking lot.
A grin plays at my lips. Best mistake of my life.