I raised an arm in the air and announced, “That’s me.”

Now, we were back at the house, and he was helping me to his bedroom. Logan and Heather came home with us, too. I wasn’t sure where Nate was the whole evening. I’d forgotten to ask, but I hadn’t seen him a lot over the last month.

The room seemed to be in high-definition color. The walls jumped out at me, and I jerked back, evading them and giggling at the same time.

Mason caught me from behind, murmuring, “Whoa there.”

I pointed at the wall, wavering on my feet. “It jumped out at me.” I swatted the wall. “Stay there.”

“Okay, yeah. Here we go.” Mason bent down, wrapped an arm around my waist, and picked me up.

Everything went whoosh. Now, the wall really was laughing at me. His arm was secure so I went with it. I was drunk, but it was fun. Ignoring the wall that kept watching me as he carried me to his bedroom, I focused on what was in front of me—his ass.

Nice. Firm. Supple. Ass cheeks.

I could just reach down and grab a firm handful of them, and I did. Oh, yeah.

The cheeks were tight. I could bounce a quarter off them. I kept squeezing them. I tried to lift them up and back down. Even there, not much bounce. My man was hella toned, and he was all mine.

These ass cheeks. I patted them again before grabbing hold once more. They were mine to play with. I could watch them as he walked around. I could lick them if I wanted, and that was a good idea. My eyes lit up, and I started to inch down. He had on his jeans, but that made them even hotter.

“Okay.” Mason clamped down on my own ass. “Where are you going, sweet cheeks?”

“Sweet cheeks.” That made me laugh even more. “I was admiring yours.”

“You don’t say,” he remarked dryly. “Remember what you touch down there, I can touch up here, too.”

That was right. He grabbed ahold of my pants, but his palm was pressed over my own ass cheeks.

I wiggled over him. “Feel me up, Mason. Go for it. Make my night complete.”

I felt the silent laughter from him as his shoulders moved up and down. He nudged his bedroom door wider and ducked inside. I started to lift up, but he caught me. Shifting me down over him, my legs slid down the front of him to the ground, but he caught me before I touched the floor. One of his arms anchored me to his front as he caught the back of my neck. It was a firm and almost possessive hold. It was like I was his. He carried me as if I weren’t human, like I was a doll, but I loved it.

A thrill went through me. His muscles contracted as he stopped right before his bed and looked at me. His gaze held mine, slipping into me and past my walls. It was like he could read my thoughts. Then again, when hadn’t he?

I wound an arm around his neck and tilted his head to mine. “Do you know how much I love you?”

His eyes darkened. I saw his love for me shining right back.

“Same for me.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Say it. I want to hear it.”

I was becoming the possessive one now. He was mine. All mine. This perfect specimen of a man—who held me in his arms, who could make me shudder from ecstasy, who protected me from so many people—was my future. He was my soul mate. He was the only one who mattered. I loved him with a passion that took my breath away. It was more than I ever felt.

He grew serious, letting me stand on top of the bed. I fell to my knees, looping both my arms around his neck. I kept him looking right into my eyes, not that he was fighting it. His grip fell to my waist and was just as strong as mine on him.

“Tell me, Mason.” It was a quiet but commanding urge. “Tonight, I want to hear how much you love me.”

“You do?”

I nodded. The emotion moved up to my throat. It was choking me, and I was holding back tears from it.

“You want to hear how much I love you?”

I couldn’t talk, but I nodded again. The tears were right there. They hadn’t fallen, but they were just waiting to go.

A tenderness came over him, and he laid me down on the bed. His hand gripped behind my shoulders, and the other was on my hip. I did nothing. I was like the most precious being to him as he lowered me down, so my head gently touched the bed. He stood above me, our eyes holding each other’s.

His hands fell to my jeans as he murmured, “I have an entire list of why I love you, so this could take a while.”

Please. I wanted nothing more.

He undid the button on my jeans, holding my gaze, and slid down the zipper. He paused for a moment and tugged them down past my hips. He murmured as he pulled them off, “I love how you crinkle your nose when you need to tell me something, and you’re scared—like if I smell and you don’t want to hurt my feelings, or earlier tonight, when I knew you wanted time alone with Heather, but you didn’t want to make me feel left out.”

I thought he understood I wanted time with her. We hadn’t said the words, but I’d been right.

My lip started to tremble. Emotion like I’d never felt before was pressing down over me. My blood started to feel energized. I was excited for it. I was waiting for it.

Mason knelt on the bed, and his hand touched my flat stomach. His fingers spread out, flattening his palm, and he continued to touch me only there. “I love how your eyes kind of go wild, and you toss back your head when you’re pissed about something.” His other hand touched my chin. “You lift your chin, and you get this look, like you’re going to bulldoze your way through a tornado if you have to. No one’s going to stop you.”