“It’s not funny, Nina.” He smiles, capturing my lips in a soft kiss. “Please tell me you’re on something.”
I school my features, swallowing thickly. “No, Mase. I’m not.”
9
Nina
I winceas he hastily pulls out of me, worry etching his beautiful face. My hands reach for him in a desperate attempt to keep him close, but he’s already sat back on his knees trying to put distance between us.
I use the opportunity to take him in, lazily moving my eyes down his body. I lie on my back, legs spread wide as I shamelessly check him out, from his strong shoulders to his broad chest. Then lower, I take in the lines of his abs, each one taut and defined under his golden skin. Short, soft, brown hair lies between the perfect v set against his hips, a perfectly groomed trail that brings my eyes to my newfound favourite thing. It hangs heavy against his muscular thigh, still slick with our arousal. I dart my tongue out to wet my lips as I look up, finding his deep black pools.
Literal pools—he looks like he is about to cry.
“Mason, I was joking. I’m on the pill.” I laugh, gingerly closing my legs.
“Jesus! That’s not funny,” he huffs, dropping to the mattress beside me. “You’re on the pill?” he asks, repeating my words back to me.
“Uh-huh.” I climb over him, straddling his waist daringly as I glare down at him. “Do I need to get checked?”
His frown is instant. “DoI?” he asks defensively, flattening his hands on my thighs.
I plant my hands on either side of his head, leaning over him. My hair creates a veil around us. “No. It’s been a while.”
He perks up, pinching a nipple between his fingers. “How long’s a while?”
I shrug, bringing my lips to his. “A couple months.”
“A couple months?” he repeats.
I shrug again, darting my tongue out to lick along the seam of his lips. “Maybe a year.”
“A year!” he pulls away, shocked.
“I win, right?” I fake a smile.
He swallows thickly, pushing my hair back from my face. “Yeah, you win.” He frowns, still staring intently into my eyes. “I’m clean. I get checked regularly, and I always wear a condom.”
“Always?” I pop a brow.
“No, Nina, always,” he stresses.
I roll my lips as I contemplate asking the question that’s on the tip of my tongue.
“Out with it,” he probes, squeezing my thighs.
“You get checked regularly...because you have sex…”
“Regularly?” he finishes for me, and I have to force a fractured smile to my lips.
Of course, he has lots of sex—the man screams sex. It oozes from every inch of him, from the way he dresses to that carnal smile.
Mason rolls us, placing me on my side to face him. My legs wrap around him as his body falls flush with mine. His heavy eyes search my face as if trying to figure something out.
He looks shattered.
“What time is it?” I ask.
His hand disappears under my shirt, lazily skimming my side. “Nearly morning.”
