Chapter Two
“So, which one is your favorite?”
“I have no idea,” Paige laughed out loud.
She wrapped her arms tighter around her waist, and tried to sooth the ache caused by her uncontrollable giggles.
It had been over an hour since they’d left the grocery store, and she and Mason both sat on the couch in an ice cream induced coma.
If you could call what they were doing sitting.
Following his lead, she’d scooted down the fluffy sofa until her ass nearly reached the edge of the seat, and the back of her head rested on one of the large cushions. Their feet were propped up side-by-side, anchored by their arches on the edge of the coffee table, and their shoulders had touched naturally. The causal connection had continued all the way down to their pinky fingers until he’d made her laugh, and she’d moved her hand to grab her full belly.
Normally, she’d never sit in such an unflattering position near a man, but they’d been having so much fun, she didn’t think about covering up until it was too late.
Not that it mattered.
They shared a strange bond created while stuffing themselves with vanilla, chocolate, caramel, and everything in between, but she knew their relationship would never progress beyond friendship.
Earlier in the evening, after she’d agreed to follow him home, Mason had opened the freezer door and insisted they each pick three of the specialty, pint-sized containers. They had batches with candy, cookie dough and brownies, and one concoction had all three sweets dumped inside.
After making sure they didn’t have any repeats, they’d laughed all the way to the self-checkout counter, and he’d scanned and paid for their treats while she’d bagged. She’d offered to split the cost, but he’d flat-out refused, and she’d easily let it go. If he wanted to pay for their ice cream, what did she care?
Once in the parking lot, they’d exchanged first names, and after he’d made sure she had his address correctly inputted into her GPS system—in case they were separated—she’d followed him home.
The quiet, pretty, tree-lined street he lived on was at odds with his rough and tough exterior, and she briefly wondered about his relationship status.
Had he been married before? Oh god…was he married now?
As if he’d sensed her fears, or read her mind, he’d quickly put her worries to rest.
“I’m not married,” he’d said, unlocking the door. “Nor have I ever been. My job is…difficult, as you have already witnessed, and coming home to a place like this eases me.”
She’d nodded in understanding, and his explanation made even more sense when they’d entered the home.
Two thick and fluffy, dark brown couches filled the living room, and the rest of the furniture matched the dark, comfortable pieces, but the room wasn’t boring by any means. Red and orange throw pillows highlighted the brown on one couch, and a yellow afghan highlighted the other.
The walls were bare except for two wall hangings. One wall housed a poster-sized frame featuring a sunny autumn day, and the opposite wall housed four smaller frames that made up the same size rectangle. The frames highlighted different flowers in red, yellow, and orange.
Surprisingly, the room was very masculine, and while the bathrooms and spare bedroom lacked any color other than shades of beige, the warm trend continued into the master bedroom.
The furniture in his personal space was the same brown as the living room, but the deep red comforter on the bed, along with the throw pillows and the matching chair in the corner, immediately calmed her.
They’d put the ice cream in the freezer to harden it up, and after the tour, he’d left her in the living room so he could take a quick shower. She’d sank into the soft cushions on his couch, and casually flipped through a magazine dedicated to weapons she’d found on the coffee table.
She’d never seen most of the pictured items, but they all looked deadly, and she was once again reminded about his dangerous vibe. The bad-boy look was sexy-as-hell, but she wasn’t an idiot. He was definitely trouble.
The man that emerged from the shower a few minutes later sent her pulse into overdrive, and she was grateful she was sitting down. Mason was sexy covered in dirt, but fresh out of the shower he was gorgeous. Her pussy clenched repeatedly, liquid heat soaked her panties, and in an effort to stop the desperate, almost debilitating, need to be filled by him, she crossed one thigh over the other and shifted in her seat.
The move pushed her large, round ass to the edge of the couch, something she would never do in front of a man she wanted to have sex with, but she didn’t have to worry about that with Mason.
As much as she wanted him, she knew that he only wanted the ice cream, and that point was proven a few minutes later.
He’d carried over the pints in the same bag they’d brought them home in, but he never made it to the couch. Instead, he stood behind her for what seemed like forever, and she’d suddenly realized he’d been staring at her huge ass.
Damnit!
He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been caught, but the damage to her ego had already been done. Her cheeks burned, and she looked away, uncrossed her legs, and sat in the seat properly. She stared unseeing at the coffee table, while she waited for his next move, and wished for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Of course, that didn’t happen, and she felt herself tense under his scrutiny.
Even though he’d known about her size in the store, she had no idea what would happen next. People acted so weird when a big ass was shoved in their line of vision, and she fully expected him to make up some excuse so she would have to leave.
He didn’t. Instead, he cleared his throat again, and then walked around the coffee table to sit on her opposite side. Still, the damage was done, and the blow to her ego cut deep.
She wasn’t surprised, and yet, deep down, she’d hoped for another ending.
Mason handed her a spoon, and then started removing the tops from the containers. She joined him, and soon the incident was forgotten—for the most part. Honestly, it was the best thing that could have happened. It confirmed her suspicions that he was only interested in her as a friend, and with that little detail out of the way, she could just be herself.
They ate and laughed until she couldn’t eat another bite, and then they slowly leaned back on the couch, and continued talking. The only thing they didn’t discuss was his job, but she didn’t care. After flipping through that magazine earlier, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know anyway.
“You have to decide,” he said. “You can only buy one flavor. Which one is it?”
“Fine,” she giggled. “The vanilla one with the caramel and chocolate pieces. What about you?”
“The cookie dough for sure,” he said. “Those little balls of dough are heaven.”
The way he described the ice cream conflicted with his bad-boy image, and she laughed out loud again.
“Stop making me laugh,” she said, holding her stomach tighter. “My stomach hurts.”
She’d definitely eaten way too much, but the pains were from laughter, not food.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he said, rolling his head in her direction.
She rolled her head, too, and she couldn’t help but notice their mouths were only inches apart.
God, he was perfect.
Despite the fact that he didn’t want her, seeing him up close and personal made her pussy throb again. She pressed her thighs together, and tried to ignore it.
“Yes, you are,” she whispered.
Oh, geez. Now she was talking like some wannabe sultry vixen.
Mason inhaled deep, and his deep blue eyes seemed to darken. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he could smell her pussy, and shame swamped her. She had no business thinking about him like that.
“I want to kiss you now,” he whispered. “Would that be okay?”
Yes, please!
The words were quiet, but they didn’t lack conviction, and she believed him.
“Yes,” she nodded.
***
Mason leaned forward, and reminded himself to go slow.
Having his mate in his home was surreal, and he’d been semi-hard since he’d walked up behind her in the grocery store. He’d liked her body then, but walking around the couch and coming face-to-face with her perfect, round ass had made his dick swell to the point of pain.
Luckily, the bag he’d held had helped hide the evidence, because the shorts he wore did nothing to conceal his lust. If he’d approached her swollen and hard, she might have run, so he’d forced himself to think of every gruesome thing he’d seen during the week.
He didn’t have a weak stomach, but the thoughts weren’t pleasant right before eating, so he’d taken an extra minute to push everything out of his mind. Whether she knew it or not, Paige had helped by repositioning herself and sitting properly, and as much as he’d hated losing the awesome view, it had been necessary if they were going to do anything besides fuck.
Damn!
He’d desperately wanted to rub his hands all over the perfect, round, globes, and then bend her over the back of the couch and enter her from behind. Her mouth had been almost perfectly aligned with his cock, and images of her sucking him deep filled his brain. His dick twitched from the recurring thoughts, and he’d opted to take the long way around the coffee table because he didn’t trust himself to walk in front of her.
In an effort to get a grip, he’d plopped on the couch, handed her a spoon, and started removing the lids from the containers. The temperature of the room had felt well over a hundred degrees, and he’d desperately needed something cold to cool him off.
Once they’d started eating and talking, his desire had been easier to manage, but it never fully dissolved. The time passed quickly, and they laughed easily, like long lost friends, not strangers who'd only met a few hours earlier. Their connection was everything he’d been longing for—the way it should be with mates—and he didn’t want the night to end.
Too soon, they’d talked and laughed for more than an hour, and the small amounts of ice cream left in the containers had turned to liquid.
Paige wasn’t only beautiful, she was also smart, funny, and caring. Fate had sent him a perfect match, and he was beyond happy.
The only two things they hadn’t talked about were his work, and his bear. Both topics were off limits until he could tell her the truth, but he couldn’t do that on their first date. Even though it wasn’t official, from now on, he would always consider this—the ice-cream-palooza—their first date.
Paige might not fully agree with his assessment, but he didn’t care.
He loved that she’d gone along with his plan, and that she’d nearly matched him spoon for spoon with bites. Her scoops had been considerably smaller, but he liked the fact that she’d tried. He hated it when women picked at their food, or refused to eat in front of a man, and he was proud that his mate hadn’t held back.
Paige worried her brow, and he realized that he still hadn’t fully crossed the small space between them. Instead of moving too fast and scaring her with his desire, he’d gone too slow and caused her to doubt him.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just thinking about how perfect you are.”
“I’m not perfect.” She said, laughing nervously and shaking her head.
“You’re perfect for me.”
Before she could answer, he pressed his lips against hers.
Holy fuck!
The kiss was simple, just his lips pressed against hers, and yet, it was everything.
Touching her soothed him in ways he didn’t even know he needed, and his bear roared in triumph beneath the surface. She’d given him so much solace in one innocent kiss, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Hell, fuck more…he wanted everything.
He broke the kiss, and pulled back slightly to look at his beautiful mate. Her eyes sparkled from arousal, and her perfect, soft lips were parted slightly as if in shock. He used her seemingly dazed state to his advantage, and leaned in again. This time, he swiped his tongue over the small opening, and she immediately parted her lips to give him more access.
He slid his tongue against hers, and explored her mouth with purpose. He wanted to know every inch of her, and luckily, Paige didn’t hold back in her exploration, either. She matched his assault stroke for stroke, and he loved that she didn’t seem to hold back.
As their mouths moved, Paige rested a tentative hand on his thigh, and his dick throbbed wildly. When their mouths first touched, he’d immediately gone rock hard, but now he wanted to be buried in her sweet pussy so desperately he could barely think.
He slid his hand over her ass, and she momentarily tensed until he dragged his palm down her thigh, and hooked his fingers under her knee. He tugged, silently begging her to straddle him, but she tensed again and broke the kiss.
“Mason, I…”
He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her collarbone, and then licked a path up to her ear. He didn’t want to hear whatever protests she had about sitting on his lap, he just wanted to hold her and feel her pussy pressed against his cock.
“I want to touch you, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear. “Everywhere, and I can’t do that with you sitting way over here.”
He grabbed her earlobe gently between his teeth, and her sharp intake of breath let him know that he’d won. He pulled on her thigh again, and she followed his lead and settled on his lap. Some of her tension still lingered, but he kissed her again, and slowly rubbed his hands over her thighs and perfect, round ass. Seconds later, when she gripped his shoulders and started grinding against him, he knew she’d forgotten about whatever worries had initially held her back.
He moved his hands to her ass, and splayed his fingers across the flawless globes.
“I love your ass,” he said between kisses.
“What?” she laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious, baby girl,” he said, flexing his fingers slightly. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning, from every perspective, but this ass was definitely made just for me. I want to sink into your sweet pussy from behind and watch these perfect globes swallow my cock and bounce as I pound into you.”
Mason knew the words were crude, but he wanted her know exactly how much she affected him. Even if they weren’t fucking, and spent the whole night laughing and eating ice cream, he would always crave her.
She stopped moving, and studied him for several seconds. Mason had no idea what she was looking for, but fear of the worst kept his hands tight on her hips. If she wanted to leave, there was little he could do to stop her, but he wouldn’t voluntarily let her go.
“Okay.”
The word came out as barely a whisper, but he’d heard it.
“Okay?” he asked. “Okay to what, baby girl?”
“Okay to what you said.” Her cheeks tinged pink, but she looked him in the eye to clarify. “If you want to have sex, I’m willing to do it that way…with you behind me.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
He moved his hands back to her ass, lifted her off the couch, and accidentally let a growl escape. Luckily, Paige either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind.
“Mason!”
She shouted his name in surprise, but instead of protesting, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and laughed as he rounded the furniture, and carried her to the back of the couch. He let her slide down his body slowly, so she could feel every inch of his hardness, and didn’t let her go until her feet were planted firmly on the ground.
Paige had that starry, aroused look in her eyes again, and once again, he used her seemingly shocked state to his advantage. He grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, tugged it up her torso, and inwardly smiled when she automatically lifted her arms to help him remove the garment. He dropped the shirt on the floor, and went for her bra next.
She trembled as he unfastened the white lace covering, but he ignored it, and pulled the sexy piece of lingerie from her body. Her nipples immediately hardened when exposed to the cool air, and he couldn’t resist leaning down and licking one of the hard pebbles.
She gasped, and threaded her fingers of both hands through his hair, as if to hold him in place, but he dropped to his knees and started unbuttoning her jeans. She tightened her grip in his hair, and let out a small whimper, but he didn’t give in. He planted a kiss on her belly, and pulled her jeans down, revealing white lacy panties that matched her bra.
“Do you always wear matching bras and panties, baby girl?”
“No,” she rasped out. “I only have a couple sets. I bought them when I…recently.”
He placed a kiss on her covered mound, and inhaled. God damn! She smelled so good.
“When you what?” he asked, linking his thumbs inside the elastic of her panties.
When she didn’t answer, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her. He knew she didn’t want to share that much with him, that she didn’t want to appear weak, or vulnerable, but because she was his mate, he didn’t want any secrets between him.
She sighed heavily, and he knew she’d relent. Once again, his bear roared in triumph, but he didn’t smile. If he did, he knew she’d clam up again.
“When I found out my friend is getting married. I was feeling a little…sorry for myself.”
He nodded, and kissed her mound again.
“I like them,” he said, slowly pulling down the lacy fabric. “You make them look sexy.”
He’d always liked lingerie, sure, but until his mate, he’d always viewed the clothes as making the woman look sexy, not the other way around. His mate, however, made the scraps of lace look sexy, and they were nothing without her full, curvy form filling them.
He helped her step out of her clothes, and then sat back and stared at his mate in awe.
Her thick, wavy black hair landed on the tops of her generous breasts, and her dark, chocolate brown eyes studied him as he studied her. Though he knew she was nervous, her arms rested casually at her sides, and he liked that she didn’t try to cover up, or hide, from him.
Her curves had been a turn-on before he’d gotten her naked, but actually seeing the soft curves of her breasts, belly, and thighs nearly drove him insane. He couldn’t wait to see her back and ass completely bare.
“Damn, baby girl,” he worshiped. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
He cheeks reddened, but she smiled, and remained fully exposed to him.
“I want to see you, too,” she croaked out, causing her voice to betray her confidence.
“Good.”
He stood, ripped his t-shirt over his head, and then pushed down his shorts and boxers. His hard cock bounced against his abs as he reached his full height in front of her, and her short intake of breath let him know she liked what she saw.
He planted a chaste kiss on her lips, and then turned her toward the back of the sofa. Being naked, and so close to his mate, pushed his urge to claim her to a primal level. He knew he couldn’t mark her, not yet, but that didn’t stop his bear’s desire to dominate her, and pound into her hard and fast.
“Bend over, baby girl,” he said, moving behind her.
The move pushed her ass high in the air, and he grabbed the perfect globes in both hands, and placed a kiss on the small of her back. As much as he wanted to sink into her sweet pussy, he didn’t want to hurt her, and wouldn’t take her until she was ready. He moved one hand between her legs, and growled when his fingers came in contact with her soaking wet cunt.
He easily slid one finger deep into her tight channel, and slowly started moving the digit back and forth.
“Damn, you’re soaking wet, baby girl.”
“Mason, please,” she begged, opening her stance slightly.
He liked hearing his name on her lips, and though he knew what she wanted, he slid another finger into her wet core, and continued to stroke the soft folds.
“Mason!” She screamed, pushing back when his hand went deep.
His dick throbbed wildly, and he could feel the familiar tingling at the base of his spine, but he still held back. Pleasuring her, making her beg, was his honor, and he loved the sounds of pleasure escaping from her mouth and filling the air.
“What do you want, baby girl?”
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Please!”
He grabbed her hips with both hands, and let out a sharp curse.
“Oh, shit!”
He released her hips, and leaned over her, his arms caging her in against the couch.
Fuck my life!
“What?” she said, breathlessly. “What’s the matter?”
“No condoms,” he rasped out.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex, let alone bought a box of protection.
“I have one.”
He growled, but moved off her, and Paige giggled as she ran to her purse.
“I honestly hadn’t even been thinking about protection,” she admitted, handing him the packet. “So, thank you.”
She raised up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek before resuming her position over the back of the couch. The tender gesture both soothed his possessive side, and made him want to be completely honest with her.
“I wasn’t either,” he admitted. “I haven’t done this in a really long time, which is why I don’t have anything.”
“I only have some because they were a gift from a friend,” she said. “It’s been a long time for me, too.”
“Good,” he said, rolling the rubber down his throbbing dick.
He grabbed her hips again, positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy, and slowly sank into her tight, wet, channel. Once he was balls deep inside her core, he paused and tried to reign in his lust. His mate’s cunt fit him like a glove, and he’d never felt so perfect buried deep inside any other woman.
Paige looked at him over her shoulder, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“Don’t go slow,” she said, pushing back, and wiggling her ass.
He didn’t.
Mason tightened his grip on her hips, and slid his cock out of her warmth, only to slam it back in again. He repeated the movements over and over, fueled by the mews, cries and gasps of his mate, until he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Come for me, baby girl,” he demanded.
He pushed into her again, and she came while screaming his name. Her throbbing pussy gripped him like a vise, and after a few more thrusts, he growled as his dick emptied inside the condom.
He kissed her shoulders and spine before slowly pulling out and stumbling to the bathroom. He wanted to stay buried deep inside her forever, but he had to rid himself of the condom, and take care of his mate.
A few minutes later, he returned with a warm washcloth, and found her still draped over the couch. She barely moved while he wiped up the evidence of their love-making, and stayed in place while he threw the cloth back in the bathroom.
He returned to the living room, laid down on the couch, and roughly pulled her over the cushions to land on top of him with a thud.
“Oh, my god, are you okay?” she asked, trying to scramble off of him.
“I’m perfect,” he said. “Stop squirming. I want to hold you.”
“Okay,” she acquiesced, and stilled.
She rested her head against his chest, and her deep breathing filled him with peace.
His dick was already swelling again, but he was exhausted, and knew that they both needed rest. Plus, he wanted to hold his mate, and know what it felt like to sleep with her in his arms.
Once he told her his secrets, he risked never holding her again.