Ex Games Page 10

  Lapping at me, Mason groaned. Filling the room was the filthy, wet sound of his tongue pleasuring me, unraveling me, making me feel as incredibly fucking good as he promised. I was in such a state of bliss I barely processed his strong arms moving my body, pushing me up the bed and kissing along my hipbones as he turned me over onto my back.

  My eyes caught on his intense stare before my jaw dropped at the sight of his erection. It was snaked down one leg and pulsing thick against his jeans. But I got only a glimpse before Mason spread my legs and lifted them over his shoulders. Leaning forward between my legs, he wet his lips, taking me in from this new angle before pressing his tongue over my clit. I gasped as a shock of pleasure rippled through me.

  “Tell me how good you feel,” Mason growled, licking slowly, gently as he waited to hear me.

  “Please, Mase,” I writhed, thrusting my hips forward and arching my back in a hot desperation to feel his tongue again. “It feels too good. I can’t take it if you stop again.”

  “Keep doing that,” he growled as I squeezed my breasts, watching me, drinking me in for another second before sliding his hands under my ass and lifting me up to his mouth. As his hot tongue rolled up and down the length of my pussy, I cried up to the ceiling, yanking the sheets clean off the bed. The moans that ripped from my throat made him groan against me, sending a delicious hum over my clit and straight to my core. It felt so good now I could barely take it anymore. I writhed on the bed, practically wrestling under Mason, making him fight against me. And with pleasure he did, rumbling against my pussy as he hugged my thighs against to shoulders, pinning me down with this tongue and sucking my clit till an orgasm erupted from the base of my spine. Still holding me tight, Mason absorbed my every shock and spasm. He growled with thick arousal once I was done, kneeling over me and groping my breast as he buried his mouth into my neck.

  Closing my eyes, I reveled in the afterglow of the unbelievable pleasure he’d just shown me – with just his fucking tongue. It felt like I took forever as I lay there, recovering, processing. Holy fucking shit, I panted hard, realizing that I’d jut had my first orgasm since Aaron left me and it had come at the hands of his older brother.

  Rather, his mouth – that smart fucking mouth that only ever gave me sarcasm and rudeness had just brought me to an orgasm so mind-numbingly good I could barely think.

  Good God, Taylor…

  I couldn’t handle the reality of what just happened or the fact that I didn’t regret one wet second of it, so I gave myself a break and let my mind drift into oblivion. For once, I wasn’t analyzing. I wasn’t even thinking anymore. But I did remember laughing softly as Mason eventually pulled the dry change of clothes over my limp body. Then without a single person noticing, we slipped out of the party.

  Chapter Eleven

  I knew before I opened my eyes the next morning that I was in Mason’s bed. It obviously wasn’t my own. For starters, I’d been sleeping on a couch for months, but that much aside, the sheets wrapped around me were just softer, thicker and plusher than anything I could afford. They screamed luxury, and I stayed wrapped in them a little longer, listening to the sound of Mason’s shower running in his bathroom. I took comfort in the soft rainfall – mostly because I couldn’t believe he was still here.

  We didn’t have sex last night. Considering that, I half-expected that he’d go into work early and leave a note detailing how I should see myself out. I had actually woken in the night dreading the moment, especially since he was sleeping away from me on the bed, breathtakingly stretched out on his back with one arm up and the other resting over his abs. In my bleary half-sleep, I actually thought, “Imagine waking up to that,” and then realized I wouldn’t. At that point, I told myself to just see myself out, but my body was melting into his foam mattress and there was still heavenly sleep steeped in my bones. So I thought fuck it and decided to enjoy the best slumber of my life before dealing with my next episode of Mason-related fury in a few hours.

  But when I finally stirred in the morning, it was because he’d rolled out of bed. Facing away from him, my eyes still closed, I waited to hear the metal clinking of watches and cufflinks – Mason dressing in a rush before walking out the door. But instead, I heard the simple sound of him breathing in deep as he sat at the edge of the bed, and then the ridiculously sexy sound of him letting that breath out. Turning off his alarm, he set his phone gingerly back on the nightstand, sliding it slowly, carefully onto the surface. Is he…? He was being quiet for me. It was a teeny tiny gesture but somehow it felt huge, and I couldn’t help grinning. My lips only curved wider as I heard him stretch, groan softly and then walk into his bathroom, shutting the door with the same soft touch that he’d rest his phone with.

  When I finally did open my eyes, I scanned the nearby surfaces for a note, a sign of any sort that I was expected gone by the time he finished showering. None. I looked for my phone to text Sofia, but it was nowhere in sight so at that point, I let myself take in the impressive master bedroom of Mason Leo’s apartment. The room was soaked in sun and perfectly bright despite accents of mostly black and charcoal. Behind me was a tufted leather headboard I guessed was half the size of my studio, and surrounding me were three walls of floor-to-ceiling windows boasting views of blue sky behind the glittering Freedom Tower.

  Seriously. Imagine waking up to this every morning, I thought again, fully awake this time.

  By the time I heard the shower turn off, I was sitting up in bed. And despite his consideration of me as I slept, I was still nervous to face Mason this morning. Last night had ended fine but now that I thought about it, there were some hiccups that made me shudder.

  Upon leaving Noah’s apartment, Mason had brought me to his and after running me a shower in the guest bathroom, he’d pulled me into his chest by the waist of my leggings. Running a hand down the curve of my ass, he pressed his lips to mine and squeezed, his fingertips just grazing my pussy. But when I moaned, he pulled back and laughed.

  “Don’t make those sounds.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t need to get any harder.”

  Selfishly, I wanted him to. I couldn’t help wanting to touch Mason, to feel my hands wrapped around his erection. But when I reached between our bodies, he swiftly stopped me before my fingers made contact and with a call from Noah buzzing on his phone, he told me to shower and left. By the time I got out, he was still on the phone. But he put the conversation on hold for a moment to tell me to go upstairs and sleep in his bedroom. And as much as I wanted to stay up and get some kind of answer for what just happened between us, I was minutes from passing out, so I went ahead and slept.

  I felt him join the bed two hours later and to my dismay, he didn’t touch me. He didn’t come near me, and so I was convinced that by the time I woke up, I’d be alone. And I was right. I did wake up alone.

  But not quite as I’d imagined.

  “Morning.”

  Mother of God.

  I felt like a queen the second Mason came out of the bathroom. Leaning against a cloud of pillows in a sea of buttery silk, I turned to find him walking toward me like a Greek god walking earth. I had to bite my lip as I took in the plush, white towel knotted low on hipbones that screamed sex. I couldn’t even help my eyes as they traveled up each perfectly defined section of the six-pack that looked even better than it did in my imagination. Lord. I’d never ogled someone so blatantly in my life but it really couldn’t be helped with a man who looked like Mason Leo – especially not when he was greeting me with that sexy, crooked smile.

  “Morning,” I returned in a murmur, treating myself to every slanted cut of muscle in his back as he grabbed boxers from his dresser.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Yes,” I replied as he disappeared into his closet. The neat sound of a zipper pulled up let me know he was changing, so I took the time to breathe and try to mimic his nonchalance. But when he emerged still shirtless in belted black pants, I nearly lost my breath again.
He observed me for a second then asked point blank, “Why are you nervous?”

  My eyes fluttered. Feeling exposed, I hugged the sheets to my chest. “Um… I don’t know, Mason,” I laughed curtly. “Can’t you guess?”

  “I’ll move past our little spat last night and guess that it’s something to do with the events that took place after. After you got out of the pool.”

  “Warmer,” I said, watching his bicep twitch as he dried his hair. Mason smirked.

  “Alright. Then is it the fact that my tongue made you come harder than Aaron’s ever made you come in your life?” He peered up from his towel to catch my frozen expression. “Oh yeah, I think I nailed it. Still not sure what the nervous Bambi eyes are about though.”

  I was incredulous. “Really? You just said it. It’s that whatever line there was between us… we crossed it last night. Hard.”

  “And do you regret it?”

  I looked up at his gleaming eyes. “No,” I replied sooner than I meant to. I hugged the sheets harder to my breast as I countered. “Do you?” For all I knew, the silence that passed spanned three seconds but to me it felt like half an eternity.

  “No,” Mason finally said.

  I nodded despite doubt crawling through me. “Then…” I remembered our moment in the bathroom, when I’d wanted to return the favor to Mason only to have my offer declined. In my exhaustion, the rejection hadn’t fully sunk in last night but this morning, it made my face heat right up. “Why wouldn’t you…”

  “Let you repay me?” Mason cocked his eyebrow. “Considering you thought I was trying to buy sex from you twelve hours ago, I wanted to keep things crystal clear,” Mason said, glancing up at me. He looked almost irked by the skepticism pinching my brow. “Hard for you to believe?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why?”

  “Probably because I know too much about your sexual appetite and because I saw how hard you were at Noah’s house. And I almost felt it how hard you were downstairs last night, before I showered.” I forced myself not to be intimidated by his gaze pinned on me as he crossed the length of his room to reach his other dresser. “I guess I just have trouble believing that you’d deprive yourself of pleasure just to give me reassurance.”

  I watched his back as he opened a drawer. “I don’t deprive myself of pleasure.”

  “Is that your way of telling me you had girls over while I was passed out last night?”

  “Is that your way of asking me whether I’ve slept with anyone since we started this arrangement?”

  Ah. There was that smug tone I hadn’t heard in a whole day. Chewing my lip, I tried to sound blithe. “I’ll admit I’m curious.”

  Fastening silver cufflinks, Mason turned to face me. “I haven’t slept with anyone since the day I came into your apartment. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t require sex every three hours.” A faint smile rose to his lips. “It’s also not my first time meeting you, Taylor. I’ve known you for three years, I know the level of respect you deserve and require, and I’m well aware that you’d be uncomfortable with the idea of playing my girlfriend while I slept with other women. And considering your issues with me thus far have already been plentiful, I figured I wouldn’t give you one more thing to harp about.”

  “Wow. That was almost sweet until the end.”

  He smirked. “You should never get your hopes up with me.”

  “Guess not,” I laughed though the statement stuck to me, putting an uneasy feeling in my stomach as I brushed my teeth in his bathroom. But when I came out, Mason was fully dressed in a grey suit and tie, and with a hand on my back and a nod out the door, he walked with me downstairs.

  “I have to rush to work but we can fit some coffee,” he said as he straightened his tie. And so I sat at the counter of the open kitchen, gazing down onto Mercer Street as Mason made what I thought was two Americanos. I cocked my head when he turned from the espresso machine with just one, sliding it across the island toward me.

  “None for you?”

  “Not this morning. I have a lunch with the trust of the Tate Building in thirty minutes.”

  “So, you’re telling me you just delayed your morning to make me coffee.”

  “I wouldn’t think I’d have to tell you considering you just saw it happen,” Mason said. “I do have to go now but you’re welcome to stay here.”

  I veiled my surprise by the offer. “I’ll go at some point. I need to change into my own clothing. Pretty sure whatever I’m wearing belongs to an ex of Noah’s.”

  “Fair enough.” Mason turned away from me as he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “Your necklace is on the living room table. Make sure to take it before you leave.”

  “I will,” I said, a jitteriness in my bones. I knew he had to leave but I wished badly for another ten minutes to lead the conversation back to last night – specifically into the fact that I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to show Mason pleasure and I hated that I had doubts about whether he cared to receive it. He had been perfectly gracious with me this morning but I still found multiple things to be bothered by. His eyes didn’t burn into me the way they had last night. He hadn’t flirted much and now he wasn’t looking at me at all. Our lack of eye contact approached two minutes now as he tucked a folder into his black briefcase and zipped it up. “When will I see you again?” I asked, my pulse jumping when those blue eyes found mine again.

  “I’ll have to see,” came his answer, prompting the wave of disappointment to crash in my chest. “Do you want me to have a car available for when you leave?” Again, he wasn’t looking at me.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said evenly, despite my brain racing to think of any last-minute ways to bring up last night. Because I refused to spend the rest of my day frantically overanalyzing every second from this morning, including Mason’s exit toward the door without another word spoken to me.

  Fuck it.

  I sat only a second in my chair before getting up to follow Mason. My heart beat fast as I stared at his elegant silhouette standing before the elevator in that perfectly tapered suit. “Mase.” His name breathed softly from my lips and when he turned around, I fought past the nerves that came with his handsome frown. Closing in on him, I touched his chest, my other hand grabbing his and sliding it beneath my sweater. I molded it to my naked breast, squeezing hard till he groaned against the kiss I pressed to his lips. One flick of tongue and our pace picked up. A rumble escaping Mason’s chest, he pushed my shirt up, fondling me roughly, a grunt tearing from his throat as he thrust me up against the wall. I gasped as I felt his tongue flick hot over my nipple – just a second before the elevator opened beside us and prompted his throaty growl.

  “Fuck, Taylor.” Panting hard, Mason pulled away from me. There was torture in his eyes and his fingers dug into my waist. But then he groaned and buried his face in my neck and gave a tormented laugh. “This is the hard-on I was hoping to avoid before work,” he muttered, relieving and guilting me in one shot. When he drew back, I sucked in my bottom lip at the look of torture on his face. He shook his head at me, a brief silence passing before he said, “I’m late.” Retrieving his suitcase from the ground, Mason nodded for me to follow him to the elevator and as he stepped inside, I stood in its frame. I watched in awe as he leaned forward to kiss my lips gently, stepping back a second before the heavy doors glided shut to leave me alone in his penthouse, stunned and utterly breathless.

  Chapter Twelve

  I was beyond glad I was off work because the rest of my day was spent thinking nonstop about Mason. I found myself craving the sound of his voice, the smell of his skin. My brain refused to stop reliving the events of last night at Noah’s house. I relished it like my favorite scene in a movie, rewinding and replaying, over and over so I couldn’t be confused for even a second that it had all been a dream.

  It was an insanely girly thing to do, and I couldn’t believe myself but I’d also stopped trying to understand what was going on. I was beyond the point of try
ing to make sense of this – of Mason and me. All I knew was that it felt good. Better than good – like the breathless, exciting, heart-skipping-a-beat kind of romance I’d fantasized about in high school but long concluded wasn’t actually real. Feeling this sexy, pleasured and satisfied was something straight out of Hollywood – that was what I told myself.

  Till last night and this morning, at least.

  Thanks to that inexplicably sweet kiss at his elevator, I just about sighed throughout the rest of my day, feeling as if I were floating several inches off the ground. I read a few chapters of the book I started four months ago, got my nails done and went window shopping for shoes. I strolled around aimlessly, burning through every playlist on my phone and at the end of the night, enjoyed a solo glass of wine with charcuterie in the window of a French Bistro on Broadway. By 8PM, I was sure I was maxed out on content and thoroughly done for the night. But then Mason called.

  “What are you doing?” he asked when I picked up the phone. Unless I imagined it, there was a smile in his voice.

  “I had a treat yourself kind of day,” I replied, trailing my finger along the fine edge of my glass.

  “Sounds nice.”

  “How was your day?” I asked, laughing inwardly at how weirdly normal our conversation sounded for once.

  “Not bad, but a little long considering how it started,” Mason answered. “Girl I had over last night left me in a bad way before sending me off to work. Really could’ve used a cold shower before going to my meeting, but I was already running late.” That low and buttery laugh of his sent a chill up my arms. “Know anything about that?”

  I grinned like an idiot, tousling my hair as I gazed out the window. “I may. Sorry, by the way.”

  “No need to apologize. Just come meet me for dinner.”

  I blinked. “Oh, sure.” I pushed the charcuterie plate away, surprising myself with how quickly I turned to signal my waiter for the check. “Where should I meet you?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Just tell me where you are so I can send my driver to get you.”