We’re back to moving as one and my arms are stretched up and behind me, wrapping around Mason’s neck while his hands are gripping my hips firmly, but not so firmly that they can’t still move with a teasing, rotating rub against his groin that is definitely pleased to see me now.
We are in a very public location and yet I am almost oblivious to anyone else being here, even more so when I feel Mason’s breath against my neck and ear.
“We are going to need a more private dance floor if you continue to rub yourself against me, baby,” he tells me, making me shudder, a move he doesn’t miss. “You like that idea?” he asks but without needing a reply he continues, moving his hands up my body so that they skim across my breasts, pausing for a split second on my nipples that are hard and aching for more than his fleeting touch. “You’re killing me here, Olivia. I can feel how much you want me to touch you,” he says, and I moan, a loud moan that I am sure everyone must have heard but I don’t actually care.
All I care about is getting some skin on skin contact with Mason Harding before I explode.
“Are you wet?” His question startles me and I have to think really hard about what he means until one of his hands comes to rest at the hem of my short dress.
“Yes,” I admit honestly on another moan as I realise that I really am.I am wet, very wet and sticky,I say in my head but am horrified to realise that my expansion on the status of my pants and most intimate part of my body were not simply thoughts I’d admitted in my own mind, I said those words out loud.
“I really wish we hadn’t got that no sex rule going for tonight, but we still have kissing and touching on the agenda,” Mason says, his voice hoarse with his own arousal. “Feel me.” He takes one of my hands in his and places it between our bodies until we can both feel his erection.
I should be a little shocked at what we’re doing and saying for potentially an audience of many but I’m not. I’m loving it, so much so that I squeeze Mason’s denim covered erection discreetly causing him to let out a groan against my ear that only serves to crank my own arousal up a level. He returns both of our hands to my hips and simply jabs himself into my behind making me laugh.
“This is becoming a habit,” I say, although I don’t think it’s loud enough for anyone else to hear. Clearly, I was wrong.
“What?” He spins me to face him as the music fades.
“Nothing really, just that the guy I was dancing with earlier seemed excited to be dancing,” I explain. Without any thought I continue, “And the other morning after we met a guy on the train did much the same, except he decided dry humping me was acceptable on a packed commuter train.”
I shudder as I recall how awful the man on the train made me feel and fear that my expression has betrayed just how bothered I am by that incident.
“Yeah, well he was fucking wrong, they both were,” Mason snaps angrily. “Let’s go and get that drink.” He is already leading me back to the table where Sarah and Jed are preparing to leave.
“You’re going?” I hope they’re not going because of me and Mason.
“Yeah, I’m at work tomorrow,” Sarah explains. “Do you want to get a cab back with us or are you sharing one with Mase?” She sounds a little too familiar withMase.
I look up at him for some indication, although he did say earlier that he’d escort me home.
“I’ll get Olivia home safely,” he assures Sarah who seems to be pondering something.
“You’d better,” she finally tells him before we’re all kissing and waving her and Jed off.
My drink lasts a matter of seconds before I’ve downed it and Mason offers me the bottle of water he’s drinking, making me consider switching to water on a night out if only because dancing makes me very thirsty and alcohol makes me drunk.
“Drink some,” he insists as I view his bottle that is now in my hand. “How much have you drunk tonight?” He slides behind the table so that he is sitting next to me, his thigh pressed firmly against mine.
“That’s my third.” I point to my empty glass. “Why?” I sound and feel irked by his question, assuming he is about to make some disapproving comment.
“Because—” he turns and tilts my face to look at his— “I remember what you’re like in drink, dragging me back to yours to seduce me,” he teases, making me laugh as I realise he isn’t being an arse again, he’s joking.
“You didn’t take much dragging, nor seducing,” I throw back.
“No, I didn’t,” he agrees.
I can feel the air between us thickening until I’m sure I am going to choke on the tension.
“That might be our cue to go,” I finally say, pointing up to the sounds of Drake singing Hold On, We’re Going Home. “Assuming you still plan on escorting me home for me to make coffee and then to sit on the sofa with me, to kiss me, maybe touch me,” I say on a gasp that sees Mason’s eyes darken to their navy shade that tells me that is still part of his plan.
“Mmm,” he confirms as his hand rests on my thigh.
“Mmm,” I repeat with a hard swallow that I can’t seem to control as his hand disappears beneath my dress until his fingers are stroking the moist fabric of my satin pants. I know we could easily be seen here but my mind seems to be ignoring that as my legs now take on a life of their own and spread to invite and encourage his touch right here, right now.
“No fucking though,” he reminds me, whilst keeping his fingers perfectly still.
I am embarrassed by myself but somehow I rise above that and focus solely on my need to be kissed and touched by a man I have known a matter of days and am at serious risk of getting burnt by him if I continue to play with the fire that he represents. In an effort to literally force his hand I am moving closer hoping to gain some pressure to dampen the burning I feel between my legs.
