Out of the Blues (12 page)

He struggled with the buttons on my shirt, I tugged at his until I had it sliding up his body. I came up for air so that I could push his shirt over his head; he only grunted as it stuck behind his neck. He looked at me with bedroom eyes, sexy blue with black lashes and
fuck me
shining from within. I gasped when he pinched my nipples.

“Undo my jeans,” he ordered me. He lay sprawled against the back seat, his big hands gliding over my chest, feather light. My shirt fell over my shoulders and I did what he said.

He arched up, his groin connecting hard with mine, I fumbled with the button and the zipper while he tried to grind me through his clothes. No trying, really. He had me aching to fuck by the time I had him out of his briefs, his dick hard and silky in my hand.

“That’s it, Mason, stroke me,” he said, arching his hips into my hands as I jacked his dick like it was my own.

“Touch me.” I needed his hand on me, I needed his mouth on me. I needed to be inside him. I needed. “Now.”

He smiled up at me and dragged one large hand down my stomach to my engorged dick. Big hand and rough fingers wrapped around me. I cried out and shoved my dick into his fist grateful for the first touch of relief.

“Come down here.” His voice was hoarse, he was almost breathless. I leaned over him, my forehead to his as I stroked him, pulling on his dick as he fucked my hand. “Not close enough.”

“No,” I agreed, crawling up his legs until there was no room for our hands between us. He grabbed my ass and pulled me even closer. “This is good.”

I felt his breath on my face as he moved against me, I could feel his dick sliding against my belly, against my dick, and I groaned. “Really good,” he said arching hard into me. I drove down on him in the same way, trying to rub myself against all of him. “Kiss me.”

I kissed him, closing my mouth over his, hot and fevered and I couldn’t get close enough to him. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, hard, swallowing his groans as we tried to become one person in the backseat of a car in the middle of the day. He pushed my jeans down past my hips and dug his fingertips into my ass in an effort to get closer to me. The breeze whipped through the car, cooling me. I sweated. His chest and mine slicked together, my nipples brushing over his. “Mason,” he whispered into my mouth. “I need to come.”

It was my turn to cradle his face in my hands. I leaned over him, forehead to forehead, the look in his eyes was soft, his body hard, I wanted to see him come. I wanted to watch this beautiful man find pleasure. I wanted… “Come for me, Kilby.”

He gripped my hips harder and arched completely off the seat, his dick shoved hard against my belly. He controlled my hips, forcing me to move to his rhythm. His thighs trembled between mine. He blew out a hot breath against my mouth. Slick heat slathered my belly. He cried out, biting his own tongue to keep from being loud. He slammed into me then, holding me tighter against him, rocking me into him. I’d have bruises on my hips tomorrow. “Now,” I told him. “Fuck, now, Kilby, fuck, now.” I came, crying his name against his mouth as I cradled his face and rode his body until I thought I would…die.

Chapter Sixteen

Kilby alfresco.

Awkward was sex on the tailgate of a truck when you’re sixteen. Fucking awkward was sex with a Marine officer in any situation in which either of you could be caught and sent to the brig for fraternization among other things. Sitting in the back of a car in broad daylight with a half-naked straight man plastered to your chest while a car drives by…nothing awkward about that at all.

And that’s what happened.

I heard the engine before it came around the bend out of the trees. Mason didn’t seem to hear anything. He lay pressed to me as if he couldn’t move, or wanted to move. I didn’t want him to move, but I sure as fuck didn’t know what would happen if that car pulled up beside us.

What if it was a cop? A sex in public arrest was going to look so wonderful on my record. I’d probably get a sex offender status or something…because I couldn’t keep my damned dick in my pants when Mason Foxworth turned those big baby hazels on me.

The car drove slowly past. I didn’t breathe or move and thank fuck Mason seemed dazed and it wasn’t three minutes before when we probably had the car bouncing on its struts.

“You think they saw anything?” Mason mumbled against my neck giving me hope that he’d survived. I wasn’t sure I had.

“Don’t know.” I ran my hands down his back. I didn’t want to let him go, but that had been a close enough call as it was. I nuzzled his jawline and pressed a kiss beside his ear. “We should—”

“Yeah, we should,” Mason said, cutting me off. I wasn’t sure what we should be doing and he didn’t move to do what we should be doing so I sat holding him as our cum dried between us.

“That was…” his mouth tickled my neck and I swear I was getting hard again.

“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, again not knowing what it was and if we were talking about the same thing.

“Going to do the walk of shame again today,” he said and I felt him smile against my neck.

“Yes, we are.” I smiled too. Mostly because he was smiling.

He wriggled against me and I forgot that cars could drive by or people could walk up and I kissed his jaw and down his neck. I wanted out of my jeans and to be in a position where…he gasped loudly and pulled himself off my body to sit half on my knees and half on the console.

“Jesus, what the fuck just happened?” He was tousled and sweaty, his lips swollen from kissing. His chest and belly glistened with cum and sweat, and his dick stood half at attention. He was in a word, debauched.

I reached behind my head and pulled my shirt back into place and buttoned my jeans. Mason sat breathing heavily; he seemed stunned so I reached for his shirt and started to pull it over his shoulders. “Don’t…okay? I just…don’t touch me right now.”

I sat back in my seat and watched his fears return. For a few minutes he’d lost that look and I let myself think maybe…just maybe.

“I’m not going to apologize,” I said. Because I wasn’t, and I wasn’t at fault. He wasn’t going to try to blame this shit on me. Seduce me and then cry foul. Not happening.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” He pulled his shirt around with shaking fingers. “I just…” he missed the first button and hooked the second in the top spot. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“Good sex happened.” I brushed his hands away and fixed his button. “Now you’re coming down and second guessing what you felt and needed.”

“What are you?” He half-smiled at me, tilting his head to the side as if he was trying to size me up. “Some kind of Shaman Marine? Always dispensing the wisdom.”

I felt that like a punch to the gut. Jon used to say shit like that when I tried to be the voice of reason. Did I really come off as some kind of bitchy know-it-all? “Wasn’t meant to…”

“Now who’s making excuses,” Mason said as he finished buttoning his shirt. He gave me a look that I couldn’t fathom. “I have cum drying on my belly. I am going to have to sneak into my sister’s hotel and hope like hell no one tries to hug me or…shit…how in the hell did I get in the back seat? How did we fit?”

I had to laugh. I looked around the car, it wasn’t small but it wasn’t as big as a Humvee either. Sex in that was hard a-damned-nuff. I laughed again. “At least we weren’t wearing combat gear. Damned hard to get fucked with armor on.”

He looked at me blankly for a moment then a smile lit up his face and I thought my heart might stop. “You really did have sex with other marines?”

“Who else was there to fuck? Stuck out in the damned desert…we did shit, yeah, and those guys went home to wives and families and…you’ll survive, Mason. Maybe go home and figure shit out.”

I think I went too far, his smile faded. “Maybe,” he said as he struggled to get his dick back in his pants.

Silence stretched between us and he settled back into the driver seat, leaning against the door again. “Not ready to go back?” I asked wondering why he wasn’t hightailing up to the hotel now that he’d gotten what he came here for.

“I don’t know. I’m…I don’t know why I’m even here, you know.” He sounded like a lost little kid then. I didn’t feel for him. He was here because his sister was getting married. “Harper doesn’t even know why we’re doing this. Why she’s having this big family thing when we’ve never really had family anything.”

“Oh.” I felt like an ass for judging him. “Hunter didn’t want this either. If that’s any consolation.”

“Just Arden,” Mason said with a long-suffering sigh. “It’s always Arden. Hell, we don’t even know half the people here. I mean, we sort of lived here when we were kids, off and on. Doug bought a house because Arden wanted to be near family. When they divorced she sold that. We came and went, staying at the old family house until we were in high school and both Harper and I decided we wanted to come back here and that was it; the only time in our lives she didn’t force her will on us. Maybe it was because Cody came with us and she got to run off and be free of kids and husbands and…I should shut up. All I talk about is…the past. What you must think of me,” he said in that voice he used around his mother.

“I think you’ve come home to face memories you’ve ignored for the last few years and it fucking hurts when it all comes rushing back,” I told him, remembering when I got off the bus after my discharge papers were dried. I stood in my hometown and had no idea what to do with myself. Everything hit me in that one moment: High school, football, boyfriends that were probably married with kids while I was starting over. “I don’t think anything, Mason,” I said, wanting him to know it was fine, that he could talk to me if he couldn’t talk to his family.

“I whine and then I jump you,” he said looking at his hands. “I’d be thinking plenty if it was reversed. Like I’m fucked up.”

“Well, yeah, you are fucked up. I’m fucked up. I don’t tend to judge fucked up. Figure we’re all somewhere on that spectrum, you know.” I was talking like him, with the you knows.

“I’m fucked up, pretty much, yeah. I didn’t want to come back here. I came for Harper. And I’ve barely had a chance to see her. She’s running around. Arden is dragging her around by the leash she’s always…” he closed his eyes and I saw him swipe at one. “Harper isn’t anything like Arden, sometimes I forget that. She’s more like Doug if you wanted to get right down to it. She was the one into sports and even now her thing is outdoors shit, biking and hiking. But she likes pretty clothes, too. Take away the biking and hiking and…oh god, I’m my mother.”

He sounded so surprised and pathetic I had to laugh. “Yeah, you pretty much are, except where you are Cody Gillette.”

He looked at me for a long moment as if he didn’t understand. “Look, Mason, we’re not all our biological parents. We can be the people who raised us. If I’d turned out anything like my father I’d have to fucking shoot myself in the head. I like to think Hunter’s dad had the most influence on me. Robert, his name was Robert. Rob is the father I think of when I think of my dad, not the sperm donor you know. And Hunter never knew his mother but I see mine in him all the damned time. So you’re one part Arden Monroe and two parts Cody Gillette, the rest is Mason Foxworth. I like the rest of you, by the way.”

“But not the Arden part of me?”

“You have moments when you make her cluck that I find adorable,” I told him because it was true, the bitchy mom getting a taste of her own bitchiness from her son. “Harper doesn’t seem to know how to handle her.”

“Yet she is doing all of this to impress our mother and her impossibly high standards. The big wedding, the pretentious foods. A week-long destination wedding for relatives we’ve never met and I sometimes question the validity of their relationship to us.”

When Arden came out, his words became more wordy. I smiled and watched as he dragged in a startled breath. “What?” I had no idea what had happened to cause him to cough and flail.

“You,” he said, still trying to clear his throat. “When you smile. Fuck me, when you smile. It’s like my brain stops for a moment. How the fuck do you do that?”

“Smile?” I was confused.

“No, asshole,” he whispered and I realized that he whispered when he was about to admit something he didn’t want to say out loud. “You light up the entire…everything when you smile.”

I smiled again, “You like me, don’t you?”

“I don’t know you,” he started to back pedal, but I wasn’t going to let him, I leaned over the console and reached for the hand that fidgeted on the steering wheel. He tried to pull away, but I linked our fingers. “Let me go.”

“Admit you find me attractive,” I said, pushing him to step outside of his comfort zone…okay I was being an asshole because I didn’t want to be shoved into the dirty secret category. Not again, not now.

Why not now?

He stared at our hands and finally returned my grip. “I don’t know what I think right now,” he admitted and it was enough.

“You want to fuck me,” I said and he raised his gaze to meet mine. There was fire in the speckled depths.

“Yes,” he said, his voice catching, but he admitted above a whisper.

“Then that’s enough,” I said, letting his hand go.

He nodded and without another word he turned correctly in his seat and put the back upright. Five minutes later he dropped me off at the side entrance to the hotel and drove off.