After a quick, shared shower, we made our way downstairs to the kitchen, both silent and, presumably, lost in our thoughts.

What’d happened had been…something else. I’d never experienced that level of pleasure, satisfaction, or connection before, and it scared the living bejesus out of me. God, why did he have to be so damn perfect?

Kind, caring—a friggin’ doctor for Pete’s sake—and strong. Handsome.

Yeah, because thinking like this is totally helping.

“Coffee?” I asked as we entered the kitchen. Anything to fill the silence that’d bloomed between us the minute Mason had turned the faucets in the shower and cut off the water.

“That would be great,” he replied and cleared his throat. “Not gonna lie, I drained most of my energy back there.”

I gave an awkward chuckle and turned my back on him, busying myself with the coffee pot and grinder instead. The noise separated us and gave me a brief respite. What had I done? It wasn’t so much regret that swam through me but resignation.

I couldn’t get enough of him, in every way, but I had to confine myself to just the physical. I could not risk falling in love again. The last time, I’d lost everything. This was meant to be my fresh start, not a repeat of all the mistakes I’d made in the past.

I clicked off the grinder and set about preparing the brew.

“Hey,” Mason said, behind me. “You wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” I asked, my voice a little too high for my liking.

“About that unbelievable, life-altering fuck, Rebecca.”

I cringed at my full name. It reminded me of my mother scolding me. “Sure,” I said and faced him again, bracing my palms on the counter behind me. “Which part? The part where you filled me with your cum? Or the part where I came all over your face? Or maybe the part—”

He crossed the kitchen tiles in two large strides and caught me in his arms. He pressed me up against the counter, his forehead against mine, and speared me with a look that would’ve melted the panties off a nun. Ugh, bad thought.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll get a repeat show, angelface,” he said, dragging fingers down my throat. “I meant, talk about it in the sense that you’re clearly up in your head right now. I fucked your body, and it’s twisted your mind. Now, spill it, Becca. What’s up?”

“There’s a reason we decided to be friends,” I said, “and nothing else.”

“I can’t remember it,” he said, leaning in and brushing his lips against mine. “Every time I touch you I forget everything. My name, my address, my will to do anything but fucking inhale you.”

I moaned softly against his lips. This was exactly the opposite of what we should be doing. I swallowed, shut my eyes and steeled myself, breathing in the scent of my body wash on his skin.

“I don’t want to fuck everything up,” I said, still not opening my eyes. Looking at him was too difficult and I had to get this out. “All I’ve got is this job at your practice. If I lose that, I’m done. There’s nothing else that pays remotely as well. I could waitress, sure, but I’m not sure any of the places I interviewed at would take me in that capacity, even if they have an opening.”

“You’re not going to lose your job.”

“I’m fucking the boss,” I said, and my eyelids snapped open again. His gaze stunned me—glued me to the spot with their ocean-green depths.

“No. You fucked the boss. Not fucking. There’s a difference,” he said. “And trust me when I say it’s not going to be a problem for long, Becca. Everything will be fine.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I just do.”

“I’m afraid I’m gonna need more to go on than just a feeling.” I shrugged, my nose brushing his. Even that was dangerous. His lips were too close, and he was hard again, his dick pressing against my stomach, insistent.

Mason released me and stepped back, running one hand over his head and down the back of his neck. “Feelings are all I’ve got,” he said, “and I’m always reluctant to share them. Normally.”

“What are you saying?”

“That there’s something going on here,” he said. “It’s no fucking mistake that we can’t get enough of each other. Don’t tell me you don’t play with your pussy at night, fantasizing about me.”

I blushed.

“Exactly,” he said and pointed at me. “I’m with you, Becca. I don’t want complications either, I’m just saying that the sex might be a complication we have to deal with while we’re around each other.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning there’s no good reason why we should deny ourselves this level of pleasure,” he continued, nodding his head, as if it made the most sense in the world. Like it was an obvious solution. “If anyone found out at work, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I wouldn’t get fired and you wouldn’t either. It’s not like we’re fucking in the copy room in a corporate office.”

“We almost fucked in your office today.” I couldn’t help but point it out.

“And that’s exactly the reason we need to continue fulfilling our desires outside of work. We keep it here or at my house and we won’t run into that type of problem at the office. Feel me?”

Oh, I felt him all right. I pulsed at the thought of unlimited access to him, but it was still too risky, for other reasons.

“Becca,” he said. “Angel, I can’t go to work tomorrow, know you’re there, and know I can’t fucking touch you. You drive me too wild. You’re mine, and I’m going to make you mine every fucking night for as long as I can.”

“And when does it end?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. “Neither of us are ready for anything more than sex. When do we cut it off?”

“The minute either of us develops any kind of feelings other than sexual,” he said, but he broke eye contact as he did, glancing past me to the brightly lit yard outside. “We’re rational adults. We can handle that. What was it you said earlier? Making the decision with eyes wide open and mind clear?”

“I meant for that single time, not every time. More than once is a big deal.” But my resolve had already crumbled. “Mason, the minute it gets complicated…”

“We’ll stop,” he said. “I don’t need pain, either. We have a deal, here?”

“Yes,” I said, and my stomach whooped. Excitement—actual excitement—at the prospect of nightly sex with my very own Adonis.

“Good.” Mason still didn’t close the distance between us. “What do you say we get some takeout? Pizza? We can stay in and chow down. Do you have a TV?”

“I’m more into reading,” I said.

“Then we’ll just talk and listen to music.”

It was an awesome proposition, and we followed through quickly. Mason handled ordering the pie while I prepped the living room where we’d had our romp. I laid out the checked picnic blanket he’d left behind the night before and lit a few candles, then switched off the lights. The afternoon sun was just setting, and the creep of dusk was on its way.

A half hour later, we sat down with the pepperoni pie, both grinning, tummies rumbling.

Mason ate like a beast. I matched him bite for bite.

He swallowed and grinned at me.

“What?” I asked, collecting a bit of stringy cheese and twirling it around my finger. I deposited it in my mouth and gobbled it up.

“I like the way you eat.”

“How do I eat?”

“Like you’re mad at the food,” he said, laughing. “I like that.”

“Maybe I am a little mad.” I shrugged. “How dare it not be in my belly already, that kind of thing.” We ate quietly, the soft sounds of a concerto playing in the background—Wagner—and I studied him by candlelight between bites. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“That Kathy from the animal shelter,” I started, and set down my slice on a plate. “The other day when she was here, she warned me about you.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. She said something about there being worse things than alligators in Stoneport and that you were ex-military and not to be trusted. Didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but do you know why she’d say something like that?”

Mason chewed thoughtfully. “I might. I mean, it’s like I told you, Kathy’s part of that older group of locals. A few things happened in Stoneport back in the day, and they’ve picked their side.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“OK, I’ll explain it,” he said and set down his slice. He picked off a bit of pepperoni and ate it. “Not something I talk about often. Back in the day, I had duties and obligations. I was newly married, but I’d made a commitment to enlist. My father was big in the military, see? It meant a lot to me, and to him too, so I went. My ex…didn’t understand that. Most of the town didn’t either.”

“Why not? Usually people are pretty friendly with veterans. Military service is something that should be honored, not ridiculed.”

“While I was gone, my ex started spreading rumors about me. Tabitha told everyone I’d found out she was pregnant, and that was why I’d left. That I hadn’t actually gone to Afghanistan, but that I’d used it as an escape to run out on her.”

“Jesus,” I said. “For real?”

“For real, for real. It’s all water under the bridge now, but a lot of the locals still believe her side of events. It’s a dichotomy for them. They celebrate Veteran’s Day, but they ridicule me. The younger folks in town, and some of the normal ones like Betsy, they don’t buy into the load of manure that Tabitha tried to sell everyone.”

“Why would she do that?” I asked.

Mason’s open expression shuttered up. “She had her reasons. Let’s leave it at that.”

Perhaps he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet—a feeling I understood completely. “Wait, sorry, just one last thing.”

“Sure.”

“Are you a father?”

“No,” Mason replied, and he softened up again. “That’s something I regret, though. Not having kids. It’s better this way, though—if I’d had them with Tabitha, they would’ve been stuck with an irresponsible mother. It’s lame to talk shit about your ex, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“Understood.” I took another bite of my pizza, intrigue running through me like a fresh water brook. Now that I’d put my inhibitions about spending time with him aside, I could enjoy this. And him. “So,” I said, “what’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“I threw a boomerang, and it came back and hit me in the head,” he said without hesitation.

“What?!”

“No shit.” Mason laughed, the mood in the living room lightening up. “One of those kids’ toys. What about you?”

I bit my lip and thought long and hard about that one. “I fell out of a golf cart once, while I was driving it.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Oh it’s possible, believe me. I’ve got the scars to show it.” I lifted my arm and showed him the white streak along the bone. “Broke my arm.”

“Ouch.” But Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter, and neither could I.

If this was what it would be like, friends with benefits, I could get onboard with it. Never mind the fears and the worries. Never mind tomorrow. What mattered was right now.