I was starving for him. Tasting my need, Mason wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me off my feet and moving us. The sounds from the club grew muffled and the lights dimmed. We were in a room. It was only us, no light, no one else. He opened his mouth over mine.
Answering my desperation with his own, he lifted me higher and I crawled up his body. My legs wound around his waist, clenching tightly. His hand slid under my shirt, grasping onto my breast. It wasn’t enough. Moving so I could get a better angle, my mouth opened over his and I felt his tongue slide inside me and brush against mine. It was a delicious rub, and I whimpered, needing more. I would always need more with him. My hands fell to his jeans. I wanted him in me, all the way in, but his hands brushed mine aside.
My legs tightened around him in protest. I rubbed my chest against his and tried again.
He blocked me, but his hand wedged inside my jeans, and his fingers plunged inside me.
I gasped, feeling the rush of pleasure.
Mason nipped at my bottom lip while his fingers plunged in and out. He wasn’t being gentle. As his fingers kept thrusting, I was paralyzed from the sensations. They were building, and they were overwhelming. I tried moving my hand to him, wanting to give him pleasure as well, but his fingers kept going in and out.
God. It was coming.
My head fell back to rest against the wall. As my climax was nearing, I gasped and arched my back. Mason’s head fell to my exposed throat. He kissed me there as his fingers continued their onslaught. A groan built from deep in my throat. As it began to slip out, Mason kept going, but he covered my mouth with his.
A scream erupted out of me, muffled by his lips, as I hurdled over the edge.
He held me as the tremors ripped through me. When they had faded and I could walk, my legs slid down from around his waist to the ground. Still holding me, he brushed a hand over my forehead, smoothing my hair and tucking a few strands behind my ears. He leaned down, and his lips grazed over mine in a soft kiss. “No matter what’s going on inside you, I’m here. I always will be.” He pressed another kiss to my forehead. “I love you.”
My hands grabbed and fisted his shirt. I loved him too. God, I loved him. The entire act of what he did was beautiful, loving, and tender all at the same time. I didn’t deserve him.
“Sam?”
“I love you too, and I don’t deserve you.” Just tell him. Get it over with. Let the chips fall where they lay. I was screaming at myself, but I silenced that voice. “When we get home…” I was going to make it up to him. I was going to love him how he just loved me.
A cloud of confusion appeared over him, but as he read the promises in me, it cleared and a small grin showed again. He bent down and I closed my eyes, waiting for the feel of his lips again—
“Tell me you’re not boning in a club?” A loud voice broke the moment. The door opened wider, letting in the neon lights and booming music. A silhouette of a large guy stood inside the doorway, and he flung his arms up. “I’m staying at a sorority house for you, man. This is supposed to happen at home. Do you not appreciate the sacrifice I’m making for you?” His hands cupped together, and he shook them at us. “Sorority chicks. Vanilla scented everything, even their forks smell like mocha and sweat pea. Pink shit everywhere. Bowls of ice cream. Boobs flashing all over the place. It’s hell, Mason, and you’re in here getting it on?”
He made a sound of disgust, shook his head, and turned to leave. “What I do, my roommate, and you don’t appreciate it.”
Mason chuckled. His hands finished zipping me up, one of his slid into mine, and he pulled me out of the small room. A group had congregated in the center of the floor. Other guys, I assumed they were also football players from their large sizes, stood with Logan and Kris. His arm was around her shoulders, and he grinned wickedly at us.
When he caught my eye, one of his eyebrows curved up.
I rolled my eyes.
Logan started laughing. “This is what I lived with for a year. They’re rabbits, man.”
Mason pulled me closer to his side, then gestured to the guy who had interrupted us. “Sam, this is Matteo. My roommate. Matt,” he indicated Logan, “this is my brother and my girlfriend.”
Matteo was intimidating. He was bald, tan, and large. He stood as tall as Mason, but he was twice his weight. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and jeans and I saw the muscle definition. He wasn’t all muscle, but I could tell he was a powerful lineman. His dark eyes flashed and a wide grin appeared as he raked me up and down. He harrumphed and nodded. “Yep. I can see the obsession.” He jerked a thumb in Mason’s direction. “Your man is obsessed with you. He don’t talk. He’s not all frou frou with his emotions, but a brotha knows.” He turned to Mason. “She’s a good one. I can tell.”
“I know.”
Matteo went to Logan’s side and threw an arm around his shoulder. His hand patted the arm that Logan had around Kris. “You can be obsessed with your woman. Me, I’m obsessed with your brother. You didn’t prepare me for him, man. What were you thinking?”
Mason frowned slightly. “What are you talking about?”
Matteo’s smile widened. He pounded his chest and pounded Logan’s chest. “There’s a soul brotha connection here. You should’ve told me I’d be meeting one of my kindred.”
“Oh my god.” Mason laughed. “Why am I not surprised the two of you are already friends?”