Authors: Elisa Elliot
But, Mark seems to be fine with it, and, considering that Mason is on a date with her, I guess he is too.
There really isn’t a way to make a woman feel unattractive faster than her date hitting on another girl. My ego was more than a bit deflated. Mark and Margie were in their own little world. Mason and I might as well have been at a separate table.
I look to Mason, taking a bit of comfort in the fact that he looks about as annoyed as I do. I sigh quietly. As much as I hate to admit it, he looks good. That damn werewolf physique. Does it ever go away? He was just as muscular as he was when we first met years ago, but he didn’t have the obsessive need to show it off as my so-called date does.
He’s wearing the leather jacket that I’ve always liked and the purple shirt he has underneath really complements his eyes. His eyes are blue tonight. I don’t know why, but I kind of miss the feral yellow-eyed look he gets when he’s turned on or otherwise aroused with some strong emotion.
Even after this long, he still manages to look good. I can’t stand it.
“Who’s up for some dancing?” Margie says, finally getting my attention.
I close my eyes; I know Mark’s going to say he wants to, and if I offer to dance as well I’ll either end up in some kind of silly, and certainly embarrassing, dance-off with Margie in an attempt to gain Mark’s attention, and I wasn’t ready to become that desperate just yet, or I’ll just have to deal with the humiliation of Mark attempting to let me down gently in favor of dancing with Margie.
I don’t even know her but goodness I can’t stand her. Mason seems to be having similar thoughts from the look on his face. Either way, we both come out to be the losers in this situation and with every passing second of silence it was becoming more and more obvious.
At least Mark was ‘polite’ enough to shoot me a brief look of concern before, seeing that I had no plans of dancing after Margie’s proffer, he agreed to hit the floor with Margie. Now Mason and I were tasked with getting up in order to let Margie and Mark out of the booth, and then left to stand like awkward children in front of the booth wondering if we should sit back down and face the possibility of conversation with each other or leave to lick our wounds in the privacy of our homes.
With a sigh, Mason sits down, smiling at me cordially as if to say he won’t bite. Ironic, considering his canine side. I may as well acquiesce, it’s not as though I have anything better to do tonight, so I sit down across from him, wishing I had a decently alcoholic drink that I could distract myself with.
“So,” Mason begins, tapping his fingers on the table nervously. “How have you been Dianne?”
I smile at his stilted and obvious attempt to make small talk. “I’ve been good. I mean, work is good, and my apartment’s nice. My dating life, well…” I say, looking over to the dance floor where Margie was gyrating on a grinning Mark, “there’s always room for improvement.”
Mason chuckles, a low and silky-smooth sound that makes me tingle. “I know exactly what you mean.” We both silently stare at our dates, watching what looks to be a very good simulation of sex with clothes on as they hump against one another amidst the other, similarly behaving people in the club.
“Was dating always this difficult?” I ask, wondering whether times had changed or if I have.
Mason shook his head, leaning in and grinning at me. “Well, I hadn’t really had too many dates before you and I got together, but to the best of my recollection, no, it wasn’t.”
I groan, “Maybe I’ll live celibate, just give up on dating, romance, sex and feelings. It seems like it would be a hell of a lot easier.”
Mason smirked. “And a hell of a lot less fun. Do you honestly think you could manage that?”
I shake my head. “No, but it’s sure a nice thought to entertain at the moment.”
“Is this the first date you’ve been on?”
I smile a bit sheepishly, flushing in embarrassment. “Yes, I’m taking baby steps.”
“Looks like we’re two of a kind,” he says. “I can’t believe the coincidence though. I mean, what are the chances that we’d both end up here. It must be a sign.”
I snort, “Of what, that we should get back together?”
Mason shrugs, silent for a long enough moment that it gets me curious. “Are you serious?” I ask, not believing what he’s implying.
“Who knows,” he says, “this is just too surreal. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
I hum, thinking over his words. “Well, you could always go and charge onto the dance floor all macho man like, growl a little to scare Mark, and then engage in an epic dance off with your rival that makes your little lady swoon and fall into your big, strong arms,” I joke.
“Little lady?”
I shrug. “Journalistic creativity. It might be a good idea; give it a try. At the very least, I’ll get a kick out of it.”
“And I live to amuse you,” Mason says dryly, a big grin on his face. I’ve missed his sense of humor.
“So, where’d you find this woman anyway?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“At a coffee shop I’ve started going to lately; great coffee that’s not overpriced for once.”
“And I take it you fell for her charming personality.”
He looks at me curiously. “What else would it have been?”
I laugh, motioning to my breasts and giving them a playful little lift. “Her assets perhaps.”
He chuckled, eyes lingering on my chest for a second longer than necessary before meeting my knowing eyes. “Perhaps those were an added incentive for my decision to make the leap and ask her out. What about you? How’d you find Mr. Genius over there?”
I grin, shaking my head at my own bad pickings. “He was an assistant of this CEO I met; he pursued me despite my obliviousness to it all. Turns out that he only wanted to ‘get with a cougar’. Tell me something Mason, when did I officially cross the threshold into cougar-dom?”
He smiled at me, a smile that was somewhere between sympathetic and amused. “Listen Dianne, we both may be too old to be dating 25-year-olds, but we’re far from old. You’re too classy to be a cougar and far too beautiful to be wasting your time with guys like that.”
“Beautiful, huh?” I ask.
“Beautiful, sexy, hot, groovy . . . take your pick. Either way you look as amazing as the day I met you.”
Even after all this time he could still make me blush. “I think I’ll go with groovy; it reminds me how young I am since I was born after groovy faded out of common lingo.”
“Well,” Mason said quietly, leaning in and sharing a conspiratorial smile with me, “you are one groovy mama if I do say so myself.”
I burst out laughing, holding my stomach and doubling over at the ridiculousness of the statement. I wipe some tears out of the corners of my eyes, looking up to see Mason wearing a wide grin on his face; he was obviously getting a kick out of my amusement.
“You know, I’d almost forgotten how you tend to snort when you’re laughing really hard. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” I ask, sitting up a bit straighter, “I’ll have you know that I am a mature, adult woman. I am not cute,” I say with a hint of humored disdain.
“Alright, Ms. Mature Woman, how about sexy?”
“A snort is sexy?”
“You make it sexy,” he says, shamelessly flirting.
“You know Mason, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to pick me up.”
He shrugs, “So what if I am? What’s wrong with rekindling an old flame?”
“Ha,” I laugh, “You want to do this now?”
“No time like the present Dianne.” He smiles, and my eyes widen as I feel his knee brush against mine, slowly and deliberately moving up my inner thigh, his heated eyes never leaving mine. “Maybe we should stoke the fire, see if we can get a flame going.”
His eyes flashed yellow for a second, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Mason,” I say, leaning forward, “are you nearing the full moon?”
He grins, a predatory smile as his eyes rake over my body. “Yes,” he says, a low growl humming behind his words. “I think you remember how I get when that time comes when there is a mutual kindling of a fire going on.”
My lips part and I have to concentrate on my next words as his knee goes even higher, Mason leaning in and holding my gaze. “If I recall correctly, you tend to be very . . . intense.”
“Mhmm,” he hums, “and generous.”
My eyes flutter shut as I force myself to focus on the conversation, “That too. But, how do you know there’s still a flame?”
He smirks, quirking an eyebrow as he pointedly removes his knee, making me whimper at the loss. “Trust me, there’s a spark.”
-x-x-x-
Thank goodness for the table between us. If Dianne had had an unobstructed view of me, she’d see very clearly that the fire was definitely still there. I knew these jeans were too tight. She really did look spectacular tonight, the red dress drew me to her, and I can see the black lace of her bra peeking out of the neckline if I tilted my head just so.
God she was beautiful. She always had an air about her that drew me in. She was intoxicating, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her eyes are closed as I start teasing her again, applying just enough pressure to get her aroused before I take it away, smirking at her small pout.
“What’s wrong Dianne, you look upset?” I tease.
She gives me a sour look, before her eyes flash with something I can’t quite recognize. She suddenly leans forward, arms on the table and chest resting on her arms, giving me a very clear look down her dress. From what I could see, her body was just as amazing as I remembered it, and my mouth suddenly went dry.
“What’s wrong Mason?” she teases, knowing that the tables have turned. I raise an eyebrow as I feel her foot creeping up the inside of my leg, going higher and higher before stopping at the in-seam of my zipper, taunting me.
I shake my head; she was just as feisty as I remembered her, and she always kept me on my toes. “Just getting a bit distracted,” I say, meeting her gaze.
“Really now?” she purrs, making me take a deep breath to control myself. These pants are getting ridiculously tight now and if something didn’t happen soon, it’s likely that I’ll have a very sticky, and very embarrassing situation on my hands.
I grin. “So, what’s it going to be Dianne?” I ask, putting my cards on the table. “Do you want to stoke the spark so to speak? See if we can get that fire going again.”
Dianne grins, standing up and responding, “Oh, it’s going, the only question is whether you can keep it that way.”
“Challenge accepted.” I stand, trying not to run after her as she walks deliberately to the club’s exit.
I swear she moves her hips like that intentionally; it’s hypnotic. I have no idea where she’s leading me, but right now I don’t really care.
Finally, she stops in front of my car; I guess her date drove her here and she wasn’t going to rely on him to take her back home. I suppose he’ll probably take Margie home too, but at this point, I don’t really care. She can call a cab; my obligations ended when she ditched me for Dianne’s date.
“Unlock the door please,” Dianne says, smiling at me innocently.
I fumble with my keys, needing to get the door open. I hear a rustling but I ignore it, cheering quietly when I finally hear the chirp of the doors unlocking. Suddenly my vision is obstructed by some kind of material landing on my face. Hurrying to take it off I grab it, holding the black material up in front of me in bafflement at what it could be. My eyes widen as I hold up the edges by its thin lace. I look up incredulously only to see Dianne wink at me before opening the door and slipping into the passenger seat. She had thrown her thong at me.
Apparently the fire was well on its way. I hurriedly get in the car, looking at Dianne for guidance as she smirks. “Your place is closer,” she says simply, and that’s all I need to know before I buckle up, put the keys in the ignition, and peel out of the crowded club parking lot.
-x-x-x-
The drive home is miraculously quick. No stop lights to get in the way of my hasty driving. In two minutes we reach Mason's apartment’s parking garage and he turns the ignition off, cursing as it takes his a few tries to undo his seatbelt. Deciding to be different than my normal self I get out of the car and position myself across the hood of my car seductively, beckoning him to come closer.
Mason walks toward me, making a sound of surprise when my long legs wrap around his waist, drawing him in closer. He steadies himself by placing his hands on either side of me on the hood of the car. I give him a sultry look, and before I can really think about it he pulls me in by the back of my neck and slides his lips against mine.
Mason lets out a groan deep within, it had been so long. I bite down on my bottom lip playfully, a challenge that the wolf in him is more than happy to take. He slides his tongue into my mouth and I moan, tilting my head to get a better angle as I run my hand down his chest.
He quickly takes off his jacket, not caring that the leather jacket that had cost him decent chunk of change lands carelessly on the dirty garage floor.
His shirt is the next thing to go, and he shudders as I rake my nails down his chest. I was playing him like an instrument and he could only go along with it. My legs draw him in closer, and Mason presses down on me so that I'm lying flat on the hood of his car, my body arching up into his.