Hands On

HANDS ON

by
Meg Harris

©
copyright
2010, Meg Harris
Cover design by Meg Harris, © copyright 2010

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names,
character, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

No
way
.

Lora Parrish had just stuck her
head over the railing to see what her friend Mason Kendall was up to in his
attic office, but now she ducked down and stared at the wall.
He's not doing what I think he's doing.

Is
he?

She cautiously stuck her head up
again, just far enough to get a glimpse, and her cheeks heated, along with the
rest of her. Yes, Mason was definitely doing what she'd thought he was doing.

She and Mason were close enough
that they wandered freely in and out of each other’s houses, which were on the
same street. She'd walked up these stairs many times before, and never caught
Mason doing anything of a, well, personal nature. Even when he was working on
the computer, he’d always heard the sound of her feet thudding gently on the
carpeted staircase. She’d never found it necessary to knock.

But apparently tonight he was a little...
distracted, and he hadn't heard her coming. Probably because he was about to
come himself.

She tried to look away, but
couldn't, quite. He was holding a photo of something in his left hand and
staring at it,
while
his other hand... well. She felt
her cheeks heat further, and a fiery moisture gathered between her thighs.

She watched the slow, steady motion
of his big, strong hand, the way it moved up and down over the front of his
jeans, and she couldn't help but think of that hand on her body. And the truth
was
,
that wasn't a new thought. Not at all. It was a
fantasy that had been at the forefront of her mind since the day she'd met
Mason last year.

For a while—a short while-- her
fantasies had been relatively G-rated. She'd imagined his hands stroking her
hair, dropping onto her shoulder, or touching her cheek. But before long, her
mind had drifted into the gutter. She still occasionally thought about him
touching her cheek... but she was thinking of a different cheek entirely. Her
fantasies about him had gotten steadily more explicit, more detailed, until
they rivaled porn movies for sheer smuttiness.

In her fantasies, she and Mason had
done everything two people could do together. In her fantasies, she was a bad
girl-- and Mason liked her that way.

Even these past few months, when
she'd drifted into dating a sweet, geeky co-worker named Theodore Matthews, the
face she saw before she fell asleep was Mason's. And when she couldn't fall
asleep, and needed to... relax, it was Mason she thought of.

Not just his face, either. She'd
envisioned every inch of his big, beautiful body a thousand times.

Still staring at the picture, he
gave a soft moan, a shuddering intake of breath, and the heat between her
thighs immediately multiplied a hundredfold. She could feel moisture, thick and
scalding hot, dripping from her body. She'd never felt such an intense physical
need in her life.

Unable to stop herself, she moved
her hand between her thighs, pressing her fingers against her denim shorts, and
began to rub, slowly and deliberately.

She wondered vaguely what he was
looking at while he jerked off. Probably some random woman from a centerfold.
She figured Mason liked bare skin and airbrushed big breasts just as well as
the next guy.

But it looked like a photo, so it
was probably a picture of his ex-wife, Ashley. That idea didn't really thrill
her. Not that she was jealous, exactly, but Mason and Ashley were yesterday's
news. She was perfectly aware that Mason had loved Ashley pretty much forever--
but Ashley had remarried, and was pregnant with another man’s child, and Mason
seriously needed to let go of his ex. Lora knew that it was time for him to
move on, but she didn't think he'd quite managed it yet.

Poor guy. She could totally relate.

Her nipples stiffened, hardening so
that they rubbed against the lace of her bra, and she absently reached up with
her other hand and touched them, too. Her hand moved faster against the crotch
of her denim shorts. She wished she could take them off, because the seam was
kind of in the way, but she'd be embarrassed enough if Mason happened to notice
her presence-- and he just might, because she was starting to pant. If Mason
found her standing here half naked, that would just be humiliating beyond
belief. Lora wasn't fond of humiliation.

Another groan slid from between
Mason’s parted lips. His eyes were half-shut, his long legs sprawled out in
front of him, his powerful body slouched back against the cushions of his old
navy-blue couch, and she could hear the harsh, unsteady sound of his breathing
from here. He was obviously totally turned on.

She wondered why he didn't unzip
his jeans, grab himself, and finish in a rush, the way most guys would. Maybe,
like her, he was worried about getting caught with his pants down, literally.

Or maybe he just wasn't in a hurry.
Maybe he liked to go slow.

If so, he was a man after
her own
heart.

She was a hard time keeping it slow
right now, though, because the burning between her legs just kept getting
hotter and hotter, until she thought she might just catch on fire. She moved
her hand a little harder, a little faster, and bit her lip to hold back a moan.

He arched his head back against the
cushions, and she stared at the tendons in his neck, the faint shadow of dark
stubble along his jawline and throat. She wanted to walk across to him and kiss
his exposed throat. She wanted to rip off his shirt and put her hands and mouth
all over him.

She reminded herself firmly that he
was masturbating to a picture of someone else, quite likely his ex-wife. It
would be humiliating enough if he caught her standing here touching herself.
But throwing herself at Mason when he was jerking off to a picture of someone
else would be the ultimate in humiliation.

She'd done her best to back off
from Mason a while ago, because it had become evident that he was never going
to let Ashley go. They’d been married for seven years, and had dated since high
school, and Lora knew deep down that she could never compete with a history
like that.

But it was okay, because her body
was stupid, but she wasn't. She couldn't seem to get over him physically, but
she was completely over him, emotionally.

Really. She was. Totally.

His eyes drifted shut, and she
admired the long, dark lashes, staring in a way she could never let herself
stare when he was aware of her presence. No other man on Earth had ridiculously
long eyelashes like that. She was willing to bet on it.

She watched his hand move a little
faster, watched his hips rising to meet the movements of his hand. His forehead
was beginning to glint with beads of sweat, and she wondered if he was sweating
everywhere. She thought of his chest, sleek and smooth and gleaming with a fine
sheen of perspiration, and the image was almost enough to make her come, all on
its own.

His eyelashes fluttered, as if they
were very heavy, as if he had to force them open. He looked at the picture he
held, his other hand moving faster and faster.

"Lora," he murmured.

Taken utterly by surprise, Lora
gave a startled gasp, and his head suddenly jerked up. He stared at her, his
dark eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. She stared back, feeling just as
embarrassed. At least he couldn't see the location of her hand from here, and
didn't know that she'd been just as, well, busy as he'd been.

She couldn't speak, couldn't even
manage to open her mouth. Confusion and shock and bewilderment all buzzed
together in her brain.

Oh,
my God
, she thought wildly.
It's me.
That's a photo of me
.

Chapter 2

Lora had never seen Mason so red.
His face was the color of a prize-winning tomato. Even his ears were crimson.
She had a feeling she was blushing just as hard. She wasn't sure what was
worse, getting caught jerking off... or getting caught watching someone jerk
off.

"Uh," he said. "Uh,
I didn't hear you..."

Snark came to her rescue, as it
often did at embarrassing moments. "That's obvious," she said,
walking up the rest of the steps and heading toward him. Thank God a woman's
arousal didn't show like a guy's did. He had a lot more to be embarrassed about
than she did.

At the thought, she glanced down at
his jeans. There was still an enormous bulge there, straining the worn fabric.
That had to be seriously uncomfortable.

"Uh," he said again.
"I guess, uh..."

She reached down and snagged the
picture right out of his hand. "Well," she said softly, somehow
surprised even though she'd heard him saying her name in that low, sexy voice.
"It is me."

It was a photograph of her dressed
a lot like she was now, wearing an old William and Mary t-shirt and a pair of
shorts. Not a terribly sexy photo. In fact she was pretty much swallowed up by
the oversized t-shirt, so her curves weren't even visible. It was about as far
from a centerfold picture as you could get. True, there was a happy smile on
her face, but she was pretty sure guys didn't get off on happy smiles.

She glanced down at Mason's bulge
again and realized maybe she didn't know everything there was to know about
guys. Or at least Mason.

"Why me?" she asked
softly.

He reached out and snatched the
picture away, putting it down carefully on the end table. His embarrassment
seemed to be fading, and he looked defensive. Almost annoyed.

"Why not you?"

"I didn't think you... I mean,
we're
friends
."

"Just because we're friends
doesn't mean I'm blind, Lora."

Maybe he wasn't blind, but she must
be. Because she'd had the hots for Mason for a year now, but it had never
occurred to her that he might feel the same way about her.

And
hots
was
all it was, she was
sure. She understood that what he felt for her was lust. Not romantic
love,
or anything along those lines. But that was okay,
because that was pretty much what she felt for him, too. She had a boyfriend,
and she didn't have any lingering feelings for Mason... beyond those pesky
thoughts of running her hands all over his body, anyway.

God, she wanted to touch him.

The image of her hand moving over
him grew too vivid to fight against, and she lowered her hand to his shoulder.
Through his t-shirt, she could feel solid muscle layered over his collarbone.
He jumped, and she felt a shudder pass through him.

"Lora. Uh. I think maybe you'd
better..."

"Take it easy, Mason."
She ran her hand down over his chest. "I'm harmless." He lifted an
eyebrow, looking dubious, and she grinned.

"Well... mostly
harmless."

Even through the burgundy fabric of
a Redskins t-shirt, he felt as hard as she'd expected, bone and muscle and
sinews all wrapped up together in one very sexy package. He felt hot to the
touch, and another shiver racked him as her hand moved down his abdomen.

"Lora..."

Never one for subtlety, she caught
the hem of his shirt and tugged at it. "Let me see what's underneath,
Mason."

"Uh." He grabbed at his
shirt. "I don't think that's a good idea, Lora."

Apparently he was a little nervous
about blurring the line between fantasy and reality, and she didn't blame him.
It was scary to step over that line. She had a feeling she was going to have to
give him a shove. "What were you thinking about just now?" she asked
softly.

He glanced up, just for a second,
then
lowered his eyelashes. "You."

"Obviously." She lifted
her hand to his ebony hair and stroked it gently. "But what specifically?
I find it hard to believe the sight of me in a t-shirt turns you on that
much."

She heard a low, wry chuckle.
"I was thinking about the lake, actually."

She thought about that for a
moment. "You mean the picnic we had out there a month ago?"

He nodded.

She thought about that day. It had
been pretty much their last fun of the summer. They'd driven out to the local
park, tossed around a Frisbee, and splashed in the chilly water of the lake. It
had been a fun afternoon—a lot more fun than she’d ever had with Theodore, if
she was going to be honest about it-- but she couldn't think of anything
particularly sexy about it.

"What about it?"

"You were smiling just like
that the whole time," he said softly, nodding toward the picture.
"And after we went swimming, you came out of the water in that bikini, and
you, uh..."

She remembered being pretty damn
cold, because the breeze had picked up, and a light dawned in her mind.
Typical guy
. "My nipples were
standing out."

"Yeah, that’s what I was
thinking about." His head was still downbent, but she could see his ears
turning red again, barely visible beneath the thick waves of his dark hair.
"Until that day, I never really noticed you—I mean, I never noticed you
that way-- but ever since then…"