GRACE

“I know you’re there.” I stood by the large window overlooking the front of the clubhouse. Visually it was a picture of chaotic debauchery, but with the soundproof windows, it was calming.

“I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” The tone of his voice heated my insides.

“You couldn’t even if you tried.” I turned and my heart raced at the sight of him. “You stomp around here like you’re scaring ghosts.”

“Maybe I am.” He pulled off his cut and threw it on the bed. “You over the party?”

“Not sure what we’re celebrating.” I shrugged and sat on the bed. I pulled his cut in my lap and ran my fingers over the leather. The patch with its SouthEast Dragon embroidered design on the back felt rough against my fingers.

I’d personally cleaned dirt and blood and god knows what else off of it a couple of weeks ago with a toothbrush. I did things like that for him, hoping he would notice. “You taking it with you.”

“Not like I need it.” He lifted the arm of his short sleeve and rubbed the tattoo of the club logo on his upper arm. He walked over to the window and looked out. “You want to hold on to it for me?”

“Sure.” I draped it over my shoulders. It’s how the girlfriends wore them. The old ladies got their own cut to properly identify them. I was neither. I’d lived with the Scott's since my father died. Papa Scott took care of me. Treated me like a daughter.

My father was one of the founding members of the Dragons, but he never wanted the leadership role. My dad could take apart and put a bike together without a manual. He liked being the grease monkey of the crew. He was held in high regard and the respect he earned passed down to me. I was family.

In Mattie, I got a best friend. A silly, funny, laid back brotherly type. He looked out for me. Mase looked out for us, both.

I never saw Mase as a brother.

Mase felt more like …everything.

He was my first in every way.

My first love, my first crush. He shared things with me, things even his best friend, Derrick didn’t know. Stuff like the books he loved. He’d read them and leave them for me on my bed. I’d devour them and then we’d sit in this room or on the roof and talk about them for hours.

He also taught me how to protect myself. I could shoot better than him and use a knife. He showed me how to take down a guy twice my size with my bare hands.

Stuff every little girl growing up in a motorcycle club should know.

The heat of his stare warmed me from the inside out. I knew the look all too well.

He always looked at me like that when he thought I wasn’t looking. Like if given the go ahead, he would devour me. I gave him the okay with my eyes, with a look, all but flat out told him to take me.

He ignored it and fucked some groupie or even worse, Dollie.

I looked at my watch. It was twelve thirty. I wasn’t allowed to stay past midnight without Papa Scott’s permission.

I wasn't about to break the spell to go and ask him I could stay longer. Hopefully he would think I left already.

I looked up at Mase, ready for him to avert his eyes and play it off like he always did. Ignore his obvious attraction to me. I had always been infatuated with Mase Scott.

I remember the moment he stopped looking at me as a little girl.

I was in the game room, playing pool with some of the guys. I wore a little pleated black skirt and a tight white tank top. I dressed for Mase. I wanted him to notice me. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

A prospect stared at my ass a little too long.

Mase caught him.

He ended up in the hospital. Needless to say, he didn't get his cut.

From that moment on, the guys never looked. Or, if they looked, they made damn sure Mase wasn’t around, first.

I grinned at the memory.

“What’re you thinking about, Gracie.” He knelt down in front of me. He reached up and straightened the jacket on my shoulders.

I had worn it before, but never out in the open. The weight of it comforted me and it smelled uniquely like Mase Scott.

I blinked my eyes and looked away. I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry. Tears weren't sexy.

He touched my chin and turned me to face him.

He studied me. His face expressed sadness and curiosity.

I wanted to see regret.

Regret for leaving me.

“How come you never kissed me?” I asked. I bit my top lip and waited.

He remained silent for a while, looked at me. He rested a hand on my thigh. He had the most amazing hands, for an ass kicking biker. They were rough, but had character. I ran my fingers over one of his knuckles.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth on the side of my knee.

I felt it in my core.

“You want to know why I never kissed you?” He asked. Repeating my question as if searching for an answer. Mase didn’t want to hurt me. No matter how subtle or right it was, his rejection always did.

“I guess,” He paused and shrugged his shoulders. “Once I kissed you, I wouldn’t want to stop.”

My insides flipped.

Good answer.

I heard thumping in my ears as Mase leaned over and laid a soft kiss to my thigh.

I gasped and closed my eyes.

He laid his head in my lap. His hair tickled my skin.

I ran my fingers over his close cropped haircut.

“If I kissed you. It would only make it harder for me to leave.” He whispered against my skin.

I was relieved he couldn’t see my face, the tears sliding down my cheeks along with the happy dance my heart was making.

He sat up abruptly.

I sat up.

My legs parted.

He reached over and placed his hands on my hips and pulled me to him.

I grunted from the impact. His face, mere inches from mine.

Sure we hugged, but I'd never been this close to Mase. Our hugs never lasted long enough.

He stared in my eyes.

The intensity of his stare made it hard for me to think.

I stared back. My instinct when challenged was to look away, crawl into myself, wait for it to pass.

With Mase, I was up for the challenge. I might have been inexperienced with men, but with Mase it was different. I felt powerful, sexy, and in control of my own destiny.

I could have what I wanted.

I wanted him.

“I’m not asking you to come with me,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to take me with you.” I lowered my eyes.

Well maybe not everything.

My heart sank. I missed him already.

“Grace.” He whispered my name. He said it in a tone reserved for my ears only. I looked up and it happened.

Mase brushed his lips over mine. They were soft and firm. A sharp contrast to the rest of him. I mimic his movement and brushed mine over his.

He placed a hand on my chin and held me while he pressed a little firmer. His tongue darted out and licked my bottom lip.

Holy shit.

Mase Scott kissed me.

My heart felt like it was on speed, my body buzzed and my thighs trembled.

He kissed me once more. His tongue slid over the seam of my lips. My mouth parted and his wet strong tongue darted in for a millisecond and then it was gone.

I opened my eyes.

He leaned his head back.

I licked my lips and titled my head up to meet his gaze again.

Something in his eyes flipped. It went from soft and tender to passion and heat in an instant.

Mase dug his fingers in my hip while guiding me with the other. He didn’t wait for an invitation. He pressed his tongue in my mouth.

My taste buds exploded. I never tasted anything so amazing and satisfying. I moaned and pulled on his shirt to get closer.

He withdrew his tongue and chuckled.

Was I doing it wrong?

I didn’t think so. I’d seen picture, movies. Hell, I’d seen him make out with countless chicks.

Maybe that was it. I wasn’t anything special.

I leaned back and pushed him away as I covered my mouth.

I scooted back on the bed and covered my bare legs.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I blinked away the tears.

“Grace.”

“Listen, I know I haven’t been on a fuckfest for the last three years like some people I know," I rolled my eyes. "But I’m doing the best I can.”

“Gracie.” He shook his head and reached for me. “Come here.” He held his hand out.

I took it.

He kissed my knuckles, dropped my hand and pulled my legs forward, my torso flush up against his body.

“First of all, watch your mouth.” He leveled me with a stare.

I shook my head. My hand remained at my side.

“Second of all, I laughed because you …” he caressed my cheek. “Are so perfect. So beautiful.” He kissed down my jaw line, “and so innocent and pure.”

“And that’s funny because …”

“When I touch you,” He slid his hand between my thighs.

My throat hitched.

“It makes me giddy.” He chuckled.

I giggled as his hand moved further up my thigh.

I pulled on his collar and his lips landed on mine again. He kissed me with power and urgency and the giddiness he was talking about hit me. It was euphoric, to be touched, and caressed and worshipped by him.

His hand rested close to my pussy. I was sure he could feel the moisture on my thighs.

His little finger rubbed my center.

I gasped and flinched.

“Lay back for me.” He kissed me again and placed his hands on the center of my chest. He pushed me back on the bed.

I rested on my elbows. Watched him.

My dress didn’t cover much.

Mase leaned over and kissed my inner thighs.

He worked his way up with small little kisses on either side.

I moaned.

It was so quiet in his room. I was sure he could hear my heart thumping.

As he worked his way down, he nudged my thighs open.

“I can smell you, Gracie.” He said in a husky sexy voice I’d never heard from Mase before. Not even with his other girls.

My throat hitched.

“You want me to kiss you?” He looked up, both his hands on my legs. He yanked my legs open. “You want me to kiss that little pussy of yours?”

My insides clinched. The word sounded so dirty and sexy coming from Mase’s mouth. I nodded my head.

“Use your words, Gracie.” He said in a slightly different tone. More dominant and possessive.

“Yes.” I said. My face flushed hot.

“Beg me for it.” The corner of his lip turned up and his eyes danced with lust.

“Please.” I responded without thinking. My voice came out breathy and high-pitched. My head swirled at the thought of Mase, touching me, kissing me down there.

His hands remained on my legs, his thumbs rubbing little circles on my inner thighs. He remained silent.

“Please, Mase, touch me.” I held his gaze as his fingers crept up my leg. I thought I’d burst from the anticipation. His movements excruciatingly slow, his hands close to my center. Was he contemplating reason to stop what he started? Fuck that.

“Please Mase.” I pulled my dress up to my waist exposing the matching pink panties. “I need you to touch me right here.” I slid my hand down my stomach and into my panties.

His eyes grew big and wild. The curl in his lips twitched.

I knew I had him.

He lowered his head and slid his hand up the outside of my thighs. His fingers slid under the seam.

“Are you wet for me, Gracie?” He bit the inside of my thigh.

I yelped.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

I pulled my hand out of panties and pulled the seam to the side.

I’d never done this before. Never exposed myself to anyone. I felt kind of slutty but powerful. Watching how he reacted to me. He may continue to battle with himself about how wrong it was for us to be together like this.

When he leaned in further, I knew his rational side was losing.

“Anyone ever—”

“No.” I narrowed my eyes. “Of course not.”

“Why not?” He asked with a cocky grin on his face. He knew the answer.

“I’ve been saving it for you.”

A moan escaped from the depths of his soul and I knew there was no turning back now.

He liked his lips, pushed my thighs apart and tasted me.

For me, it was another first taken by Mase Scott. And my heart will never be the same.