Author: Cheryl McIntyre

“You blow,” Addie insists.

Chase laughs from his seat a few feet away, nearly choking on a piece of pizza. “Yeah, Hope. You blow,” he chuckles.

She rolls her eyes as she dunks the bubble wand into the bottle. “Just for a little bit, Add. There are perverts present.” She shoots a disgusted look at Chase, making him laugh louder. Addie eyes him seriously, tucking her streak of green hair behind her little ear.

“Chase is nice,” she declares.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m nice.”

Hope licks her lips as they round in an O shape and she blows softly across the little plastic stick. It’s right about now that it occurs to me that I’m a pervert too, because this is hot. This whole night has been a slow death.

She looks over, and without taking her eyes off me, she hands the bottle to Addie. “All done. Go ask Chase to blow some for awhile since he’s so nice.” Taking my hand, she pulls me toward the house. We’re barely through the door when she turns to face me.

“Do you still want to kiss me?” Her voice is just above a whisper, her breathing accelerated.

Hell yes I do. I nod, staring at her mouth. “More than ever.”

She looks up at me through her long dark lashes and I don’t think I can live another second not knowing how she tastes. “Then kiss me,” she murmurs.

Chapter 14

Hope

Mason doesn’t hesitate. His hands slide up my neck, his fingers brushing gently over my jaw line. He cups my face and leans in. I close my eyes in anticipation.

“Have you been drinking?” he asks, his mouth so close to mine I can feel the warmth of his words.

I open my eyes and nod. “I had a few shots, but that was hours ago.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” I say firmly. I’m not. I’m feeling good, but I’m not at all drunk.

He smiles. “Good.” His lips caress my jaw, he plants light kisses, moving toward my mouth.

“Hope—oh, hey,” Annie fumbles, her eyes wide, brows raised. Mason and I pull away from each other like we were doing something wrong. “Sorry. Mom sent me to get you. We’re doing the cake.” She gives me an apologizing look and mouths, “Oh, my God. Hot.”

I burst out laughing and Mason shifts beside me. “I will be right out,” I manage to say. He presses his head against my shoulder with a frustrated groan and I laugh harder. “Come on. I need some cake.”

He reaches out as I turn and glides his fingers across the back of my shoulder, over my tattoo. “Hey. A blackbird. That’s what I named you in my phone.”

I look up at him trying to determine if he’s joking. “What? Why?” I love that song. There was a time I honestly felt like it was written for me, but there’s no way he could know that. I’ve never told anyone how the lyrics touch me.

He smiles at me as he opens the door. “The first time I saw you, you were wearing that Beatles shirt with the blackbird. I think about that moment a lot, so I thought it fit.” He nods at me as I move past him. “And now that I see your tattoo, I think I made a good call.”

He grins at me proudly and I can’t help but smile back.

We make it just in time to sing Happy Birthday. Alec blows out his candles. Yes, Jenny put all forty candles on his cake. I let the birthday boy, and all the little kids get a piece of cake before I secure slices for me and Mason.

“Are you ever going to tell me what my name is?” Mason asks. He licks icing off his finger and I watch his movements carefully. My body is so aware of everything he does. Especially when it involves his tongue.

I pick up my plate and bite my lip, contemplating what I’m about to do. His green eyes meet mine and I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “My phone’s in my room,” I say slowly. I stand up and move in a determined line to the house, hoping he’s behind me. What if he thought I was just running in to grab it? What if he didn’t understand that I want him to come with me to the privacy of my room? What if he did get it? I don’t know which makes me more nervous.

The door closes behind me and I glance over my shoulder. Mason meets my gaze and for probably the first time since I’ve met him, he isn’t smiling. I feel my cheeks warm as I move up the stairs. In my room, I place my paper plate of cake on the desk and turn around to face him.

Mason’s eyes shift around the bedroom, moving slowly over my side. I turn the lock on the door. I don’t want Annie walking in on us again. The click causes him to turn his attention in my direction. He glances at the door knob then back to me. My stomach flutters and a chill skitters down my back.

I don’t move. I’m not sure I’m capable. “Kiss me,” I whisper.

His long legs have him across the room in front of me before I can even force myself to exhale. One of his hands touches my cheek, the other grasps my lower back, his fingers bunching the material of my dress. I look up at him and I have only a second to comprehend that I’m not scared. My heart is racing, my pulse pounding, my stomach is a mess of nervous excitement, but I’m not afraid of him. Then Mason’s mouth is on mine. My shoulders crash against the door as he presses into me.

His lips are surprisingly soft and warm as he uses them to part mine. I open my mouth for him and his tongue slides in slowly. I skim my hands up his arms and into his hair. His grip on my back tightens, pulling my body flush with his and he moans quietly. I feel the vibration on my lips and my whole body responds.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I like it. I push against him, guiding him backward until we fall across my bed, our lips separating only from the impact. I bring my legs up so I’m straddling his hips and he pulls my head back to him. I gasp as his fingers slide under my dress and sink into my thighs. I can’t believe I’m allowing him to touch me like this. I can’t believe I like it as much as I do. The way Mason makes me feel, the comfort I find in his warmth, it’s unnerving, but in this really great, crazy way. I know I’m risking everything. Taking the chance he’ll discover my secret.

Mason moves his mouth to my neck, his tongue sliding over the sensitive skin and he growls. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice husky. I love his voice. I move against him, setting off another moan and I like that I can do that to him. I like making him feel good and I decide he may very well be worth the risk.

We find our way back to each other’s mouths and as I run my tongue over his bottom lip, he smoothes his palms down my sides. He takes hold of my hips and now I moan as he presses against me.

With a groan, Mason breaks away gasping. “We need to stop,” he pants. “Or I’m going to take this too far.”

How far is too far? How far do I want this to go? I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop. Not yet. He feels too good to stop. Too right. I nod my head like I’m in agreement, but crush my entire body against his, embracing him as I caress his neck with kisses.

“Oh, my God,” he breathes. Then his hands are under my dress again, grazing the skin on my back. He pauses. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“Hm-mm. Not with this dress.” He grunts and his hands clamp around my arms.

“I think we need to stop. Now. Because I’m nearing the point where I won’t care you have a yard full of party guests.”

I sit up, but I stay on his lap, looking down at him. His cheeks are pink, his hair messy. He’s adorable. I shake my head. “I trust you, Mason.” His eyes rake over me—my face, my body. “I trust you,” I whisper. The fact that I mean those words scares the hell out of me.

My chest is rising quickly with my breathing. I can clearly see the agony on Mason’s face as he struggles to make a decision. I’m about to implode when he finally sighs and clasps my fingers. “Show me what you named me in your phone,” he says hoarsely.

I swallow my disappointment, appeased only by the longing and regret evident in his demeanor. But just to verify that I’m reading him correctly, and maybe to tease him just a little, I shift slowly against him as I wiggle myself off his lap. He sucks in a breath and I try to hide my smile.

“Succubus,” he hisses. I laugh and hand him my phone, watching as he takes his own from his pocket. When his ringtone sounds, I scan his face intently. First he reacts to the song, his mouth opening in surprise as Blackbird plays, and then he laughs when he reads the screen.

“Skittles? You named me Skittles?”

“I had to. That was the moment.”

“The moment?” he asks. He pushes himself into a sitting position.

“The moment I decided I really liked you.”

He grins at me and shakes his head. “And Blackbird?”

“You played it on the way to the store,” I explain.

“I played it because of you. Because of your shirt.” He laughs again. “This is kind of frightening.”

“What are those?” Mason asks, gesturing to my little squishies.

I pick one up, a pink pig, and press it between my finger and thumb. “I used to get these from the machines outside of this store my mom shopped at. We’d go there to pick up toilet paper and laundry detergent. After she paid, she’d hand me a quarter and I’d be all excited to see which one I’d get.” I poke my finger through the box. “I keep trying to recall which one I bought last, but I can’t remember.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” he asks softly.

“Penguey,” I say immediately. Damn, did he just use my trick?

“Penguey?” he asks amused.

I smile and sift through the animals until I find the tiny blue and white penguin and hold it in my palm for him to see. “He’s my favorite.”

Mason plucks it from my hand and examines it. “Why this one?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s cute.”

“What’s your favorite animal?”

“I guess penguins. What’s yours?”

He brushes his hair off his forehead and smiles. “Elephants. Don’t ask me why. I just like them. Favorite song?”

“Don’t have one. I love too many. Favorite color?”

“Blue,” he says and I don’t miss how he stares into my eyes. Normally I would find that cheesy, but the way he nearly breathes the word, the intensity of his gaze, it has me melting right here on my bed. “And yours?”

“Purple,” I say honestly. “Even though I’m seriously considering changing it to green.” His eyes still have a hold of me. I’m not sure who moves first, maybe we move at the same time, but suddenly I’m lying back. Mason is above me and our lips are once again fused together.

Chapter 15

Mason

Hope and I are sitting in the grass, our knees pressed together as we play the hand slap game. She’s winning. I may be letting her win a little bit. I can’t help it if my hands are reluctant to leave hers, even if it ends with heated red marks across my skin.

“You’re really bad at this,” Guy states with a smirk in my direction. I shrug as he leans back on his palms, his head nearly touching Hope’s shoulder. “Honey, you do know he’s doing this on purpose, right?” He winks at Hope and her brow puckers. Her next slap is hard. Really, really hard. I jerk my hands back.

“Damn it,” I hiss.

She leans forward until her butt comes off the ground. Her face is so close to mine I can feel her heat. I want to close the minimal distance she’s left open. Her eyelashes drop as if in slow motion and she peers up at me. I love when she does this. “If you can’t handle pain, you may not want to play games with me,” she taunts.

There are multiple ways I can interpret this, but I go with the belief she’s flirting with me. I let one side of my mouth curl up in a devious grin. “I can take whatever you offer me.” I drop my eyes to her mouth, still so close, and suck in my bottom lip. My teeth drag across the soft skin as I watch her gaze focus there. She looks around us quickly and before I have a chance to register what she’s doing, her warm breath is against my ear.