Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (128 page)

Besides, Adrianne didn’t want any kind of excitement or pulse-increasing activity. She was looking for a laidback, home every night, steady and simple farmer for the long term. So having Mason’s hands on her was going to be short-lived. She might as well enjoy it for the moment.

“Let’s go,” he said near her ear and started for the door.

Adrianne wondered if she could get away with giving him the round-about directions to her house instead of going straight home.

As they stepped onto the wooden front porch of the Come Again, Mason said, “Hey, Adrianne, hold these a minute.”

He flipped his car keys into the air and she reached out and snagged them smoothly. No problem.

Mason chuckled.

Oh.

“You definitely smell like butterscotch schnapps, but I’m not convinced you drank that much,” he said.

“Um, we never said I drank it.” She tossed the keys back to him and headed for the parking lot.

“Good point.”

She headed for his car, the only one with Illinois plates in the lot. And the only Porsche in town. Or the county probably.

He hit the button on his key chain to unlock the doors—it was also probably the only car in the parking lot that was locked—but made no move to open the door.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. He was standing really close to her. She pressed her back to the car, her palms against the warm metal of the passenger door.

“I need to ask you something,” she said quickly before she could rethink it.

“Anything.” He seemed to move closer.

“Did you offer me a ride because you would have offered anyone a ride or because it was me?” Internally, she cringed. Definitely junior high stuff.

It was a dumb question and she felt dumb asking—and even dumber letting the answer matter so much. But she really wanted to know. Because she was about to do something crazy and needed to know if there was even a slightly good reason.

“I would have given anyone a ride.” Mason slipped his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight back onto his heels.

“Oh.” Her heart dropped. She put her hand against her chest. “Okay.”

He leaned in, hands still in pockets. “But I was really happy about it because it was you.”

She wondered if she’d imagined the words for a moment, then she saw his grin and let herself be glad she’d asked.

Now for the crazy part.

“So you know that I haven’t been drinking.”

“I was pretty sure.”

God, she loved that grin. She returned it. “So you will also know that anything I do or say is for reasons other than being under the influence.”

“Okay.”

She leaned forward, her hands still on the car door, rose on tiptoe and kissed him.

There were no hands, no contact other than lip to lip, but she felt her entire body catch fire.

She started to lean back away from the blaze, but Mason brought a hand up and cupped the back of her head, holding her in place.

This was—sensational.

They stepped forward at the same time, bringing them belly to belly. Or belly to belt buckle. And something very nice below his belt buckle.

The kiss deepened as he tipped her head to one side. Her hands went to his shoulders and she pulled herself up more flush against him.

Mason seemed to approve, because he growled in the back of his throat, grasped her thigh with his other hand, pulled it up to his hip and then stepped forward again so her back was against the side of the car.

With the firm surface behind her and her thigh in his big palm, Mason was able to press exactly where she most needed him.

They groaned together and Adrianne knew that this was going to get out of hand.

CHAPTER THREE

THOUGH MASON FELT his pulse hammering as he struggled to rein his desire in, their mouths moved together slowly, deeply and fully.

Her lips were perfect, her tongue was perfect, the sounds she made were perfect and how she smelled—like every one of his favorite things rolled into one and dipped in sugar—was absolutely perfect. And not a bit like butterscotch.

Several minutes—hell, it could have been a day or two—later, he pulled back. He stared down at her, loving that she looked dazed. The women he kissed enjoyed it, but he didn’t exactly surprise them and wouldn’t describe them as overcome by him. He dated women who dated a lot of men. He wasn’t sure he brought anything new or unusual to the interactions.

Adrianne was acting, and looking, like she was
stunned
by him. Or by what was happening. Or how she was feeling. Or something.

Something he hoped wasn’t inane like how nice the weather was tonight or that he drove a Porsche.

“No butterscotch,” he said, pulling his thumb along her lower lip, simply doing what he wanted to do, instead of thinking it out from every angle.

She shook her head. “No butterscotch.”

“Too bad. I like butterscotch.”

“How about cinnamon?”

“I really like cinnamon. Why?”

“I chewed cinnamon gum earlier.”

He smiled. “Yeah?”

“I can prove it.”

She pulled him in for another kiss.

She tasted good. Not specifically any flavor other than Adrianne. Which was better than anything he’d ever tasted.

She also felt good. She was short enough that tiptoes were necessary to really fit together, but her body seemed shaped perfectly for his. And vice versa.

When she pulled back, she smiled up at him. “See?”

“Delicious.”

She licked her lips and he was ready to start all over again.

This was nuts. He felt a hunger. It was never like this with women. Things were very predictable in his dating world—as they were with everything in his world.

Drinks, dinner, dessert. That was the order in which his dating life progressed. Dessert was telltale for him. What his date ordered, how she ate it, how much she ate all told him how much she wanted him. He hadn’t published his research, but it was ninety-five percent accurate.

He hadn’t had dessert with Adrianne yet.

Then again, he never kissed women up against his car like he couldn’t get enough of them.

He always got enough.

He knew the female body and the science and psychology of female sexuality better than anyone in his acquaintance. The same way he’d studied agriculture, geology, political science and business, he’d studied women, read about women, experimented with women until he understood everything and had the right formula.

The right formula meant the right—and predictable—outcome.

Adrianne was an anomaly.

Generally, he intensely disliked anomalies.

Looking down at her now, however, he realized he was going to make an exception in this case.

She was too short to fit where he wanted to be, so he did the logical thing and slid his hands to her butt, picked her up and set her on the hood of the car.

She instantly wrapped her legs around his waist, moaned and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“God, I want you,” she panted. “This is crazy.” She spread his shirt open, her gaze roaming over his shoulders, chest and stomach. “I want to taste every inch of you. I want to suck on your earlobes.” She did, making Mason groan. “I want to lick your neck.” She did that too. “I want to lick your chest.” She wiggled against him to reach his left nipple, which she licked, making his erection pulse. “I want to suck on your fingers.” Instead, she put her index finger against his mouth. Mason drew it past his lips, swirled his tongue over the pad and then sucked the length of her finger into his mouth. Her breath hissed out between her teeth. “Like that.”

“I want to suck on a few things myself.”

He slipped his hand under the soft, stretchy material of her top to cup one of her breasts and run his thumb over the silky cup of her bra that couldn’t hide the hardened tip.

She pressed her hand over the back of his. “Yes.”

When he felt her other hand at the front of his pants, he sucked in a sharp breath.

She moaned as she cupped him through his pants and he pressed into her hand.

She wanted him. Badly. He marveled at that even as a strange thought occurred to him. His penis had never been touched by a female within the city limits of Sapphire Falls. He felt like laughing even as he fought against the intense urge to thrust fully into her grasp. The whole thing was thrilling—and arousing as hell.

He’d been wanted before. He didn’t have self-esteem problems. But he hadn’t been wanted like Adrianne clearly wanted him right now.

“Is it the Porsche making this feel so good?” she asked, breathless.

“I’ve had this car for two years and it’s never felt like this.”

She laughed and arched closer. “I have the most insane urge to get naked and spread out right here on the hood.”

What little blood was left in his brain quickly re-routed south at that. “God, Adrianne.”

The next thing he felt was the button on his pants give. “I want you naked. I want to feel every inch of you against every inch of me.”

He rested his forehead against hers, trying to breathe. “Your talking is going to kill me.”

“Sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. I never talk like this. I want to say even dirtier things for some reason. I want to use the word cock and fuck and—”

“Dead,” he muttered. “I’m going to be dead. Happy. But dead.”

“Sorry.” She laughed. “I’ll stop.”

“I’ll pay you to keep going.”

“I really want to keep going.”

He started to inch her top up, wanting—needing—to see as well as touch. “We could go—”

Suddenly a nylon jacket landed next to Adrianne on the hood of the car.

“I already told you that you have great tits, Ad. You don’t have to prove it.”

Mason whipped his head to the left as Matt Phillips strolled up to the car. “Get decent,” he said quietly. “There’s a crowd coming. I stalled as best I could.”

Mason pulled his hand from Adrianne’s top, then pulled her hand from his body and re-buttoned himself into modesty. Adrianne slipped into the shirt she had tied around her waist and Mason went to work on his shirt buttons.

“How’d you stall?” Adrianne asked Matt.

“How much did you see?” Mason asked, thinking that was the more important question.

“Enough to consider bringing a bucket of cold water instead of the jacket,” Matt said with a chuckle. “Mike and Kevin were the ones on their way out so all I had to do was buy a round for the bar. They turned back around quick.”

“You bought a round for the entire bar?” Adrianne asked. “There are probably sixty people in there.”

Matt slapped Mason on the back. “I figured Mason would agree it was worth it.”

Mason did indeed. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed Matt several bills. “Thanks.”

Matt slipped the money into his pocket without looking at it, then continued on toward the blue pickup three vehicles over from Mason’s car, whistling as he went.

Mason turned back to Adrianne only to find she’d slid to the ground and was gathering her hair into a ponytail with a hair band he hadn’t seen before.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said, her back to him and already several feet away. “Not really drunk remember?”

“I remember. Cinnamon only.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a little smile. “It was nice to meet you, Mason Riley.”

“It was…” he trailed off. That was all she had to say? “It was nearly orgasmic to meet you, Adrianne,” he called.

She didn’t turn back again, but he was sure he heard a snort of laughter before she disappeared behind two rows of cars.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the side of his car. He waited until he saw her drive out of the parking lot and turn east. Then he headed for the bed and breakfast, happy for the first time almost ever that Sapphire Falls was small enough to ensure he would see her again. And again. And again.

“ADRIANNE, I NEED you to go the building site.”

Adrianne had been expecting this call and she did feel a twinge of guilt when she heard Hailey’s voice. Then she felt a thrill of excitement because she knew Hailey was going to ask her to meet Mason.

Then she felt the hot wash of embarrassment.

How was she going to face him? Good Lord, she’d thrown herself at him the night before. On the hood of his car no less.

She’d had her hand down his pants.

Her cheeks heated. She never did stuff like that. She’d had dirty dreams about it last night and she kept reliving the whole thing in her daydreams too. But she never did stuff like that and had no idea how to act when she saw him again.

Not seeing him again seemed a good option.

“What’s going on?” Maybe she could handle the mayoral emergency. Heaven knew she handled plenty of things for Hailey every day. How hard could it be?

“Mrs. Langston is all riled up. There were apparently teenagers smoking in the park last night and she’s demanding I come over and look for cigarette butts with her.”

Thelma Langston lived across the street from the city park. She had constant complaints about it too, though she’d lived there for nearly forty years. Sometimes people let their dogs run loose and they came into her yard and pooped. Sometimes people had picnics and didn’t pick up their garbage and then it blew into her yard. The smoking teenagers was a common complaint. She was convinced they were going to start a yard fire that was going to spread to her property and burn her to death as she slept—since, of course, the
hoodlums
were there in the middle of the night.

Yeah, Adrianne wasn’t going near that situation.

Looked like she was going to face Mason Riley instead.

“How does she know there were teenagers?” She wanted to know how Phoebe had pulled this off. Hopefully, she hadn’t recruited teenagers and bought them cigarettes.

“Someone called anonymously and told her.”

Okay. Didn’t that seem odd to Hailey? Or Mrs. Langston for that matter? “Why would someone tip her off?”