Game Plan (21 page)

He laughed while transferring items from the fridge to the counter. Eggs, cheese, asparagus. “You’re biased about the hotness, babe, and this is no different from any other day.”

“I wish you were
my
neighbor.” She pitched in by rinsing the asparagus. This required she squeeze in front of him to get to the sink. And back again—extra slowly.

He slapped her ass, then started cracking eggs into a bowl. “I’d never go to work if you were that easily accessible. I’d go bankrupt and have to live in a cardboard box on your front lawn.”

“You wouldn’t be out there long. Hordes of women would happily take you in.”

“Yeah? How about you?” Muscles bulged as he whisked. “Would you take me in?”

“Only if you agreed to be my sex slave.”

“Pretty sure I already signed on for that job.” He quit prepping food to kiss her. Open mouth, little bit of tongue, whole lot of sparks. “Best career move I ever made.” He returned to the chopping board, leaving her in a heightened state of botherdom.

Breakfast could wait. She climbed onto the small oak table. Plunked her naked ass down on the edge closest to him and lay back, pulling the t-shirt high over her breasts as she did. He clocked every second of it in his peripheral vision. Some crazy sex juju must’ve taken over her brain to be doing this.

“Forget the eggs—eat me.” She pushed a chair with her toe, only it didn’t slide out from the table in the sexy, welcoming way she’d imagined. It crashed to the floor, echoing off the ceramic and missing Mason’s feet only because he jumped to avoid it. “Oh crap.”

“Nice move,” he said, grinning ear-to-ear.

“It went a lot smoother in my head.”

“Worked fine for me the way it was.” The chair stayed overturned. It didn’t get another blink of his attention.

“Everything works for you—you’re so easy.”

“When I want to be.” He cupped one of her feet in his hand, placed it on the table, repeating the process with the other.

This position left her completely exposed. As in, feet-in-the-stirrups exposed. At the doctor’s office, she had to force herself to keep her knees apart. Under Mason’s heady gaze, she couldn’t spread them wide enough.

He lowered himself to his knees and slid his finger inside her. No, not his finger—he had one hand wrapped around each thigh. Oh god, it was his tongue. And since it wasn’t his tongue teasing her clit, or his fingers, it had to be his nose. How could he breathe? If she got too enthusiastic, as she always did with his mouth between her legs, she’d suffocate him. She tried backing away, but he clamped down on her legs and bore deeper. Insistent. Relentlessly pushing her toward climax. She grabbed the sides of the table and let him have it.

He came up smiling. Not the usual, hot-stud smile. More like the amused kind. “Why’d you tell me to breathe?”

“Oh god, I said that out loud?”

“Twice.”

Oops. Escaped internal thought. “Well, you had your whole face jammed in there. Imagine the headline in the newspaper if I’d suffocated you with my cootchie…
Veterinarian Killed by Pussy.
”

“I can only think of one better way to go.” The chair got righted and under him in two seconds. “C’mere, killer. Ride me.”

Every room now had a stash of condoms. Some had multiple stashes. Her waiting stallion raised his eyebrows as she scooped a foil package from the bottom of the dishtowel basket. “Last night, without the condom, was…” She refused to call it a mistake.

“My fault.

“A mutual lapse in good judgment.”

He slung one arm over the back of the chair, making his muscles flex and dance. “Last night was fucking incredible.” He wrapped the other hand around his cock and started strumming. Bad boy, he knew that would flip her nympho switch.

“It was. It really was.” Autopilot had placed her over him, straddling his lap.

His fingers snuck under the long t-shirt. “My shit judgment wants me to corrupt you again.”

Her pitiful resolve deteriorated more with each teasing stroke along her slit. “Mason…” Oh god, now he was finger-fucking her. And looking up at her with those devastating eyes. Caving really seemed like the way to go.

“I’ll pull out.” He caressed her hips, her ass, a physical plea to go with his words.

“You’ll try, but it’ll feel so good I won’t let you go…and I could end up…pregnant.” The word had sounded a lot more romantic in her silent fantasy.

“Yeah.” His big hand closed around hers. Squeezed lightly before taking the condom package. “We don’t want that.”

Chapter Twelve

As Saturday mornings went, it was brutally slow. Only three appointments booked between ten and twelve, and the middle one hadn’t shown. He’d checked email, read a few sports blogs. Played a stupid video game on his phone. A couple of times he’d almost texted Katie, but stopped short of hitting send. He needed someone with balls to bounce this shit off of.

“Hey, man,” Logan said, stepping into his office. “Where’s your crazy guard-bimbo today, getting her roots bleached?”

“Day off, thank god. It’s as if she’s got eight hands lately, and all of them want in my pants.”

“You got it rough, doc. Busty blonde chasing you at work, hot girlfriend after hours…” Logan straddled a steno chair and crossed his arms on the backrest. “Or are you a minus one in the girlfriend department after last night’s ball game freeze out?”

Yeah, he’d acted like quite the dick. Not a proud moment. “I convinced her to keep me around.”

Logan grunted his understanding. “Good. Katie’d be pissed if you screwed up her wedding dress plans. And I don’t like when she’s pissed at the outside world. Messes with our personal time.”

Meaning her focus drifted from Logan, her Master. Mason still had trouble wrapping his head around Katie, his spitfire of a sister, living as a submissive behind closed doors. But she was happily in love, and Logan felt the same, but from the top. So whatever.

“I told Andie I love her.”

“No shit,” Logan said on a laugh. “That’s all right.”

“You think? It’s only been a couple of weeks. And with her being older, having a kid…am I fucking crazy even considering getting serious?”

“Truth?”

“That’s why I called you. I just need to bounce this shit off somebody who’ll tell me how they see it, not what they think I want to hear. If I wanted sugar coating, I’d have called my sister.”

“All right,” Logan said, rubbing a hand over his usual scruff. “I think you won’t know ’til you meet her kid. He might hate you, make your life a living hell. Or, maybe he’s a little shithead and you’ll want to pummel him. I think that’d kill the love pretty fast.”

Good points. In Mason’s head, he’d already decided Andie’s boy was awesome and that they’d get along great, but who knew? “Yeah. But let’s say it’s all good with the kid.”

“Remember, you asked for this.” Logan rolled back from Mason’s desk, out of reach. “She’s got ten years on you. Ten. She looks great now, but what about five, ten or twenty years down the road. Have you checked out any fifty- or sixty-year-old women lately? It’s mostly scary, saggy shit. Look at your mom, man. Nice lady, but I’m betting your dad keeps the lights off.”

“First, that’s disgusting. Second, I’m not some TV show vampire, I won’t be thirty forever. When Andie’s sixty—
and still hot
,
”
he chucked a pen at Logan, who deflected it with a thick forearm, “I’ll be fifty. Nobody’ll give a crap about the ten years then.”

“And now, or a couple years from now, what about kids?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you want them, or if she does?”

“Yeah.” Mason kept the answer vague. No need to rehash the past—Logan knew how excited Mason had been about Stacey’s accidental pregnancy. How low he’d been when it ended. A family was definitely part of his future plans. He’d just forced the subject to the back of his mind for the past few years.

“Man, you might want to squeeze some talking in with the balling. From where I’m sitting, you’re in love with her magic pussy. Nothing wrong with that kind of love, either, and it doesn’t require you meet her kid.” Logan pushed up from the chair. “I’m gone, unless you need some advice in the pussy department too?”

“Get gone, Brenner. And thanks.”

“Anytime, brother.”

“Hey, one more thing,” Mason said as Logan approached the door. “Katie’s gonna look just like her mother one day… I hope you enjoy fucking with the lights off.”

* * * * *

The truck pulled in at half past twelve. As soon as Mason stepped out onto the asphalt, butterflies flew into action in Andie’s stomach. Likewise, her heart rate kicked up a few notches. She backed away from the window before he spotted her. Added a quick swipe of lip gloss and waited.

“I’m home,” he called from the entryway.

Wow, she liked the sound of that. Too much. “In here, with your lunch.”

“Smells gr—wow. Nice…apron.”

She ran her fingers under the straps at the top of her bare breasts. “It’s yours.” Electricity sparked through her body as his eyes ate her up, head to high-heeled toes and back again.

“Damn right it is.” The bulge in his jeans told her he wasn’t referring to the apron.

She turned her back to him and bent to retrieve the chicken from the oven. Mason appreciated her whole body, but at the core, she knew he was an ass man. The view she was giving him, thrusting her ass upward and sporting the world’s tiniest black thong, elicited a testosterone-fueled groan.

“Sounds as though you’re starving,” she said as she straightened.

“I am, and I don’t know what to eat first.” He stepped forward and started with her neck, sweeping her hair aside and nibble-kissing his way down the side. His mouth followed her spine, past the apron ties at her waist, right down the valley of her ass. “Think I’m gonna go with dessert. Hands on the sink and bend over.”

“Yes sir.” He groaned again as she assumed the position, legs spread, hips rotating in a figure eight. “Anything else, sir?”

“Look out the window, to your left. The Martins are out front weeding their garden. Make sure they know when you come.”

She glanced out. Yup, there they were. A couple, late twenties to early thirties, crouched on the grass, definitely within earshot. And they were dead silent. No music playing, zero conversation happening. Neither of them looking thrilled with their activity. With the kitchen screen wide open, they’d hear anything louder or more distinctive than a normal speaking voice. Oh god.

A smack landed across her ass. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him deliver another. The heat spread from her backside, swirling low in her abdomen and stretching up to her nipples. She’d started the game by addressing him as sir. Now he expected her to answer, to comply. But playing the brat was so much better.

“No, I don’t want them to hear me.” To be extra rebellious, she reached to close the inner slider. His hand closed around her wrist immediately. If anybody else grabbed her this firmly, she’d cry out or hoof them, maybe both. Mason doing it just made her more eager for what was to come.

He guided her hand back to the stainless steel. Brushed the denim-covered ridge of his cock against her ass while he breathed in her ear. “They’re either gonna hear you through
this
window or the front storm door. And if I take you there, it’ll be with your naked body pressed up against the glass for their viewing pleasure.”

Forget about remote control panties, Mason had her primed to explode with a simple touch and a few select suggestions. He knew a dozen different ways to turn her on. Right now he was using a few of the big ones to great effect.

“I promise to be loud for you…sir.”

A chuckle tickled her ear. He stretched, tipped the basket of dishrags and dug through the pile for a condom. “Yeah, I’m gonna make sure of that.” The scrub top came off, then the jeans and boxer briefs. This time, he even removed his socks. He sat his naked butt on the cool tile, wedged himself sideways between her legs and grinned up at her.

That smile was equal parts bad boy and genuine affection. It zinged her. She pinched her eyes shut to banish the gooey thoughts. Focused on his fingers sliding the teeny, tiny thong to one side. The parting of her folds as the pleasure began.

“Open your eyes. Watch me tasting you.”

The view from this angle was beyond erotic. “I wish I could record this…I’d watch it every time I want to get myself off.”

He stopped to chuckle lightly. “You’re the only female porn-a-holic I’ve ever heard of.”

“I’m comfortable with my addiction.”

“Me too.” He went back to work, lapping at her with long, broad strokes. Her clit got extra attention from the tip of his tongue, pitching her closer to the edge. When she could’ve tipped over, he eased off. Covered her with his lips and sucked, intentionally keeping her from coming. His eyes, dark and expectant, stayed locked on hers. This man loved giving oral, and he was in no hurry. Especially since she wasn’t obeying his command. He’d torture her as long as it took and love every minute of it.

So good, the pressure, the spiral tugging at her clit. “I want to come…please, I need to come…” She said the words louder than necessary. Much louder. Mason’s growl against her flesh told her he was pleased. Tremors shook her legs, the muscles straining with tension. He wrapped his right arm around one thigh. Extended the left up, over her ass, to the small of her back, supporting her weight while urging her down, onto his face. Yes, that’s exactly what she needed. “Oh, oh god…right there…harder…more, more…oh god, yessss…”

She’d closed her eyes at the end—it was impossible not to—and now that they were open again, she had a view of the front yard. The neighbors were on their feet. The guy had his hands on his wife’s hips with his groin tight to her backside, whispering in her ear. And they were looking this way. Oh, they’d heard, all right.

“Good girl,” Mason said, now standing behind her. “I’ve lived here over a year. Those two are always miserable around each other, but look at them now. Your sexy noises turned them on, babe.”

“Does that make me a porn star, or a marriage counselor?” She laughed, then shivered from his kiss on the erogenous spot behind her ear.