“I want to see all the things that turn you on. Want to see how many ways I can make you come. Would you let me do that?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to find ways to hold on to him tighter with only my two hands.
“Stay the weekend?”
Whoa. That’s not exactly love ’em and leave ’em, is it?
“I...” The words get stuck in my throat.
“Please, Charlie.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling and not asking?” I say, looking for humor when Mason’s tone gets increasingly serious.
“There will be lots of telling later. And begging, Charlie. So much begging.”
“The dog. I—”
“She can stay here. Dante needs a friend, or he’ll terrorize Pamela. Just until Sunday. Please.”
Hemight as well be begging. He’s essentially trapped me on the couch, and the more his body rubs all over mine, the fewer reasons I have to go and the fewer places I have to be in the immediate future.
“Okay,” I say.
“Yeah?” Mason’s motions get more eager. He’s pulling at my clothes and pinning me down at the same time, like he can’t even figure out where he wants to start. For a big, burly, in-control Dom, his enthusiasm is endearing.
“Yeah. For the weekend.” I can manage that. Long enough to have some fun, not so long that it will hurt too much when he realizes I’m more work than he’s ready for.
Totally manageable.
14
Mason
When Charlie camearound the corner at the pet store, I wasn’t really thinking about a slumber party, but now that he’s here—in my home, in my arms—I can’t imagine how else I’d want to spend the next few days. And he’s trusted me with so much of his story. I shouldn’t be greedy, but I can’t wait to see what else he’ll trust me with.
We take our time making out on the couch. Charlie moans when I bite on his lower lip, and it makes me want to haul him over my shoulder and carry him to bed, but I’m not as young as I used to be, and with the whole weekend stretching out in front of us, I can afford to take my time.
When Charlie’s breaths turn to pants and his fingers get more desperate as he tries to find ways to touch my skin beneath my clothes, I climb off him. His shirt’s untucked, and his hair is a mess. His lips are swollen, and his eyes take a second to focus. All of that put together leaves me full of pride.
“What are you doing?” he says.
“Gonna go corral the dogs.”
“Oh.” He pouts. “I thought we were going to—”
“We will.” I allow myself one more kiss. “But you agreed to do things my way, right?”
“Uh-huh.” He nods vigorously. “Yes. Yes sir.”
Pretty boy. “You don’t have to call me,sir.”
“Master?” But his eyes sparkle with mischief when he says it. Underneath all the insecurities and overthinking, there’s a brat aching to be set free.
“Don’t even start. Go to the kitchen.”
He sighs, getting to his feet. “After all that time we spent telling Athena to getoutof the kitchen.”
“There’s a reason for that.” I give him a wink.
