Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3 (8 page)

BOOK: Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3
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The dazed look on his face made that wickedness dance through her again. “Yeah, Delacroix, that’s the idea. Try to keep up.”

He blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head. “I would, but there’s no blood left in my brain.”

She laughed. “Give it to me.”

“I intend to. All night long, if you’re in this thing.” He held it up by the straps. It had a tie at the neck, in the back and one at each hip. The rest was see-through fishnet. He tossed it to her, crossed his arms, and waited, clearly intent on watching her change into the racy getup.

A flush of heat went through her, half-bashfulness, half-arousal. She set the teddy on the end of the bed—her pulse sped, and she’d never been so aware of a man’s gaze moving over her. She pulled the top tie of the teddy over her head, reached behind her to fasten the one in the back, then did the same for those at her hips. A shiver went through her as the fishnet rubbed against her breasts, making her nipples harden to painful points.

Lust whipped through her, liquified her core. The fact that he could see everything through the lingerie made her feel more naked than when she had no clothes on. She offered him the bravest smile she could muster. “All night long, huh? Prove it.”

The green fire in his eyes was enough to burn her, but he hesitated. “Are you sure this is what you want tonight?”

She had to respect that he asked, considering what she was wearing and that she could see the rigid proof of his arousal. “I don’t want to think about the past, just the now. Distract me, Mason. All night, if you can.”

“I can. I will.” He grinned then, slow and full of naughty promise. “Come here.”

“You come here.” Shaking her head, she beckoned to him. He didn’t hesitate, rolling to his feet to move toward her.

All those hard muscles bunched and rippled, his cock jutting upward. She loved looking at him. And he looked at her too. His gaze traveled up from her feet to her bare legs. He paused at the thatch of hair between her thighs and lingered on her breasts. She shivered and her breath panted out. White-hot lava flowed through her veins, following in the wake of his gaze.

She was more turned on than she ever had been in her life, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Dropping to his knees before her, he leaned his forehead against her belly, his palms cupping her hips. “I want you, Celia. I always want you.”

“I’m right here,” she whispered. “Have me.”

“You’re here, but for how long?” He tilted his head back and met her gaze.

The open expression made her breathing hitch. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. Since her last divorce, she’d run from relationships, and nothing and no one had tempted her the way he had. It was why she’d avoided dating him, knowing instinctively that he’d be dangerous to her determination. Her lips trembled when she smiled at him, and she traced her fingertip over his high cheekbone. “I’m here now. That’s all I can give you. You’ve known that from the beginning.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Now I understand why. I just wish…”

So did she. He was the first person to make her wish she were different, that her experiences had been different. But that was fruitless longing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head and met her gaze again. There was disappointment there that stabbed at her soul. A half-smile kicked up one side of his mouth. “Let’s enjoy now, if that’s all we get.”

Cupping his jaw in her palms, she bent forward to brush his lips with hers, putting everything she couldn’t give him into the kiss. It was sweet, hot, everything she’d ever wanted and had found far too late. His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she moaned, the heat she was becoming accustomed to wrenching through her system. His fingers stroked over her hips, tracing the ties that held her lingerie closed.

He released her lips, kissing the lower curve of her stomach through the sheer mesh. She jolted in surprise when he nipped at her belly button. “Mason!”

A rich chuckle was the only answer he gave her. He moved down, dipping his tongue between her thighs to lick her clit. She gasped when the fishnet material stroked over the tight bundle of nerves, sending an arc of pleasure streaking through her body. The tip of his fingers skimmed the edge of her lingerie, down until he could tease the lips of her pussy.

She pressed her hands to the back of his head, urging him closer. She craved those talented lips on her flesh, wanted him to taste her cream and make her come. His breath rushed over her wet sex, and her muscles quaked in anticipation. He leaned back, tugged the ties at her hips free, and shoved the lower half of her teddy out of his way. He jerked one of her thighs over his shoulder and opened her wide.

Then he buried his face between her legs, feasting on her sex. His fingers stroked up and down her slit while his tongue curled around her clit. A low keen broke from her throat, the intensity of it swamping her. Her pussy flexed on nothingness, and she wanted…she
needed

He thrust his fingers deep inside her, and she arched helpless against him. “Mason, Mason, Mason!”

Climax crashed over her, a flashflood that sent her spinning into oblivion. Her pussy spasmed again and again around his fingers, and a sob wrenched from her. It was too much. Far too much. His tongue and hands continued to work her until her knees buckled.

He caught her, lifting her against his chest. Her heart hammered, and she clutched at his shoulders as he rose to his feet and deposited her on the bed. He came down beside her, sucked her nipples, and the rasp of the mesh with the wet heat of his mouth had her arching off the mattress. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding him to her. Moans spilled from her throat, her need sharpening once more.

He stripped the rest of her lingerie away, throwing it off the bed. “This is gorgeous, but it’s in the way.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she gasped.

When she reached out to stroke his cock, he stilled her movements, pressing her hands to the pillow beside her head. “None of that. Tonight is all about you. Just enjoy.”

“Okay.” She settled back into the mattress, sliding her legs apart. “Don’t keep me waiting. I want you inside me.”

His laugh was a rough sound of need. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He kissed her, and she could taste herself on his lips. The musky scent of sex and him was all she could smell. Their tongues tangled, and her excitement expanded until there was nothing left but desperate, clawing desire. He broke away, his face flushed with lust.

“Condom,” he croaked. He rolled away, snagging one from the box they had on the nightstand. Back in seconds, he crawled onto the bed with her and sheathed his cock.

Kneeling between her thighs, he pulled her legs up to drape over his shoulders, turning his head to kiss her ankle. The way he skimmed his fingers down to tease her sex made her twist in reaction. It was unbearable. Her pussy was so wet, she thought she might die if he didn’t fill her. “Inside me. Now. Please.”

He grasped his cock, rubbing it over her hard clit and slick lips. Raising her hips in offering, she bit back a whimper when he nudged the bulbous crest of his dick into her pussy. The stretch was divine as he eased his wide shaft deep inside her. Groans rolled out of them both as he began moving, and she squeezed her channel around him. He cupped her breasts in his palms, the calluses on his fingers rasping over her nipples. The intense feeling made her grab the sides of the pillow and hold tight, her breath rushing out, her heart thundering in her ears.

A fierce smile curled his lips when he met her eyes, and she laughed. This was just too good. It got better every time. How could the best she’d ever had keep getting
better?
Each of his strokes hit just the right spot, which had her writhing on the sheets. His hands slid down to grip her hips, lifting her higher into his thrusts, rubbing his pelvis over her clit.

Her legs flexed against his shoulders as she worked to take him deeper, harder. God, yes. The angle was perfect, and the speed guaranteed to drive her over the edge. She was going to come. Soon. Shivers wracked her body, pleasure radiating through her until it overwhelmed her senses.

“I’m going to come,” he groaned, pistoning in and out of her pussy.

Just him saying the words was enough to send her flying. Her body bowed, a high, thin scream breaking loose. Her fingers fisted in the pillow, and her pussy contracted on his cock.

“Celia!” His rough shout only spurred her on, made it hotter for her. He shuddered between her thighs, collapsing on top of her. She held him close, her body going limp with pleasure. They lay that way for a long time, twined together, their breathing ragged gasps, their pulses slowing. It was perfect.

If only it could stay like this forever.

Chapter Five

“Are we shaving your head again?” Celia ran her hand down Mason’s short hair, which had grown out from the stubble in the weeks they’d been sleeping together.

Instead of showing up at closing time, he’d made an appointment, which meant he had her full attention and she’d have a harder time escaping him to run off and have dinner elsewhere. She’d been getting better at it. Telling him about her past had scared her. She’d let him too close, and this fantasy had gone too far. It was time to bow out of this little game before she got hurt.

“What do you think?” He met her gaze in the mirror, and she could see the turbulent emotions he was trying to keep in check. He knew she was backing away. He was too astute not to have gotten the memo. “Should I go back to bald?”

Danger fluttered inside her that he asked her opinion. It wasn’t unusual for people to consult with their stylist, but he never had in the past. She didn’t like that he’d change himself for her. “I like you with a little bit of hair.”

“Gives you something to hold onto?” He pitched his voice low enough that no one could hear him over the hair dryers.

“You don’t have enough hair for that yet,” she whispered. If he had, she would have yanked it just then. She wasn’t ashamed of her sex life, but she wasn’t about to discuss it in her place of business.

A smile formed on his lips, but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Give me time. I’ll get there.”

Ignoring the multiple meanings and undertones that ran through those few sentences, she swirled a cape around his broad shoulders and fastened it in the back. Grabbing an electric clipper, she shaved down the edges of his hair and trimmed around his ears.

“Come over to my house after you’re done.” He raised his voice to be heard over the salon equipment. “Let me cook for you this time, instead of just bringing you take out.”

The thought of seeing where he lived, sharing his space with him, sent a thrill through her. To say she was curious didn’t even begin to cover it. She’d turned down the offer before, and she’d do so again. It was too intimate. “No.”

He tensed beneath her hands, but she refused to look up and meet his gaze. She kept her attention on finishing what little needed to be done to his hair. The sooner she was done, the sooner he’d leave.

“Oh, go on, honey. You’ll have fun.” Jerry gave her a sassy smile from the next station over, then ducked away and hustled for the backroom when she glared at him.

Mason ignored the other man and spoke to Celia. “You’re scared.”

“What?” She shut off the clipper and set it aside, dusting the stray hairs off the back of his neck.

“What was it you said? ‘No one keeps me—everyone leaves.’ And that’s why you don’t do relationships.” His brows lowered. “You’re afraid to plan for the future.”

Shaking her head, she pulled the cape off his shoulders. “I plan all the time. I have a business, you know. Having a plan gets the bills paid.”

“I’m not talking professionally, I’m talking personally.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which made his biceps bulge. “You like to live in the moment, you said. That’s because you’re scared to think about the future. Losing your mom and your aunt, divorcing two men—those things have taught you to fear what might happen tomorrow. So, you don’t even dare to contemplate it. You’re terrified to commit to anything that might hurt you in the end, so you live in the moment.”

Every word hammered at her soul, freezing her from the inside out. She felt as if he’d stripped her bare, exposing all her most painful wounds. Tears gathered in her eyes, and shame sluiced through her that she could be so exposed with so many people nearby to witness it, though no one seemed to be paying attention to them. She wanted to curl into a little ball or have the ground open up and swallow her. She forced a scornful noise from her throat. “You just have it all worked out, don’t you? You know me so well.”

“I’ve had a year to observe you, Celia. So, yes, I do know you at least a little.” His gaze in the mirror was steady, and sympathetic, but no less implacable for its sympathy. “The last few weeks have given me even more insight.”

“Please leave,” she choked out.

“I don’t want to leave you, Celia. I want you to believe that. There’s nothing to be scared of with me.”

Her laugh was a grating sound. She couldn’t even begin to internalize that. If there was one lesson life had taught her, and taught her well, it was that
everyone left
. They may not want to, but they did. In the end, she was going to end up alone, so she’d learned to embrace that, had made it a part of how she operated from day to day. The future was not a safe thing. The future couldn’t be counted on. Maybe that made her scared, as cowardly as he made it sound, and maybe it just made her realistic.

“Your hair’s done.” She tilted her head toward the door. “Good-bye.”

He made a frustrated gesture. “You didn’t even hear a word I said, did you?”

“I heard everything you said, but apparently you haven’t been listening to me for the last year. I don’t want to date you. I don’t want a relationship, and you don’t have to worry about leaving me because we aren’t together.” She folded her arms protectively over her stomach and stepped out of his arms’ reach.

“This isn’t finished, Celia.” He planted himself in front of her, but kept his voice low so that no one who might be paying attention could overhear. “How I felt about you scared me so bad, it took me a year to face it. I get that this isn’t easy. I get that it’s terrifying. I don’t get how you can keep running when you know how good we are together. Hasn’t this meant anything to you? Or is this how
just sex
is with all your men?”

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