Chapter 9
Jess heard the water in Mason’s shower turn off. Perfect timing. She pulled the biscuits from the oven and placed them on a cooling rack. Whisking the eggs, she checked the heat in the pan, and poured the mixture into it. If she had timed it right, Mason would come out of his room when the omelet was done.
She had left him a plate in the oven for when he returned home the night before, and promptly fell asleep on the couch waiting for him. She had decided to skip local channels and went straight to the premium movie channels and was thrilled to find a Game of Thrones mini-marathon. The next thing she knew, she woke up in her bed.
He must have found the dinner she left for him, because the plate was sitting in the sink, and the leftovers that had been stored in containers in the fridge were empty. The man could put away a massive amount of food.
Of course, he was a massive guy. Yet, even with his height, bulging muscles, and bald head, and the fact that he was thigh tingling gorgeous with his dark goatee, he had a sweet, sensitive side she hadn’t believed possible when she first met him.
He acted like he hated her. Now, she would almost say they were friends. Almost. Though, she was sort of hoping they could move past the friendship and into something…more.
“Damn, something smells amazing in here.” Mason had a wide grin across his rugged handsome face. Jess barely caught sight of it as her eyes drank in the olive skin over the most amazing pecs she had ever seen in her life. She swallowed before she embarrassed herself by drooling all over his breakfast.
He scooted around her, holding her by the hips so he could reach the coffee pot. The touch of his hands on her sent a spark of heated desire all the way to her toes. She wondered if he felt it too, because he halted for a moment before grabbing a mug and filling it. He rested his chin on her shoulder. His hot breath hit her ear. “You’re going to spoil me.”
Holy deep and sexy voice that made her tingle all over. She closed her eyes and let the wave of lust crash over her. Jesus, the man was putting her on the edge of a mini-orgasm just by his proximity. His maleness enveloped her and left her wanting more.
She cleared her throat and tried to calm her galloping heart. “You have a low threshold for being spoiled if a cooked breakfast is all it takes.”
He moved away from her and sat at the stool on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. “There was dinner the last two nights, also. Besides, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…don’t they teach you ladies that when you’re young?”
Her head whipped up and she was prepared to give him the ultimate in feminist tongue-lashings he had ever received. He winked at her. Smartass.
She dished up a plate with an omelet, potatoes, and two biscuits, and slid it across to him. “About the same time boys learn not to answer, ‘does this make me look fat?’”
He smirked, took an enormous bite of eggs, and groaned. “Marry me. Please marry me.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that she had put that look of pure enjoyment there.
“I was hoping to talk to you about something,” she said, and buttered a biscuit.
“Sure, what?”
“I would like—no, I need to—workout. Especially if I keep baking and cooking like this. I’m guessing the fitness center here at the apartments is off-limits—”
“You guessed right—”
“Any ideas, then?”
His gaze roamed over her body. Instead of feeling insulted, a thrill of excitement ripped through her. “You can use the gym where I work. I’ll call Lance and get you cleared. Will that work?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem.” He stood and placed his plate in the sink. “Thanks again for breakfast.”
She turned her head to tell him it was no trouble, and his lips brushed against her cheek. He must’ve been attempting to kiss the side of her head, because he had the same stunned look on his face for a split second. She watched as his eyes turned dark and lusty. Placing his hand on the side of her face to keep her from moving away, he pressed his lips to hers.
She turned her body into his, her hands on his waist. God, everything about this man was larger than life. The kiss was as overwhelming as he was. She was lost in it…in him. And she was happy in this place of heat, and passion, and comfort. She parted her lips, hoping she wasn’t taking things too far, but desperate to taste him.
His free hand pressed against the center of her back, as his tongue invaded her mouth and slid in a dangerously erotic tangle. He drew her body into his until her chest hit his. Her nipples hardened and poked against the material of the sweatshirt she wore.
God, how she wanted his hand to move down to her ass. Lift her up, and hold her against the wall. She wanted to feel his hard length against her. In her. This man was doing things to her body that were a long forgotten dream. Need. Want. Desire. She wanted it. Wanted him.
He pulled his head back, looked into her eyes, and then rested his forehead against hers. “Dammit,” he whispered. “We can’t do this, Jess. As much as I want to—and God, I want to—I can’t have a sexual relationship with you while I’m trying to protect you.”
“I understand.”
“You can’t possibly—”
“No? I can’t understand wanting you so bad it physically aches and not being able to have you?” she chuckled and kissed him chastely on the lips. “Trust me, I am one hundred percent feeling your pain, Mason.”
He smiled and stepped away from her. “Maybe we should get out of here…and away from temptation.”
“Right. Clear our heads.”
She turned on her heel and walked into her bedroom, closed the door, and slumped onto the corner of the bed. The throbbing between her legs was still fierce. She wanted to cry with desperation. The man had turned her on so much with just a kiss, and had left her damn near at the precipice of what was sure to be a bone-tingling orgasm.
Forcing herself up, she grabbed a sports bra and tank top, and pulled on a pair of leggings. She hoped the treadmills at the base where top quality, because she was going to run a marathon to get this memory into the background. Sexual frustration alone was probably going to fuel her for most of the day. Hopefully, they had a punching bag there, too, because she wanted to pound this disappointment out of her.
There was a light knock at her door. “You about ready?” Mason asked, his voice soft and gentle.
She grabbed a pair of socks and her new running shoes courtesy of Riley, and opened the door. Mason’s gaze swept over her and the same lustful look from earlier filled his eyes. She pushed against his chest to get him to move so she could pass.
“Those types of looks are not helping the hands-off rule you have imposed. So, unless you want me to drag you into my bedroom, you need to stop looking at me like you want to do all things I’m imagining you can do. Deal?”
He dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “Deal. But for the record, wearing skin-tight clothing that shows off all your magnificent curves doesn’t help a raging hard-on.”
“Blame Riley. This is all I have.” She sauntered away and could feel his gaze on her ass. She knew it was kind of cruel to toy with him that way, but she was damned if she was going to send him off to work needing a sexual release that he wouldn’t let her provide. Just in case there was someone he worked with who could take off the edge, Jess wanted him to think about how much he wanted her. And hopefully not a second-rate substitute.
He whispered in her ear as he passed by her. “That’s not playing fair.”
“I never claimed to be an angel.”