“On what?” I ask.
She takes me by surprise when she flips us over and straddles me. My cock immediately thickens.
Her mouth curves in wonder. “That was quick.”
My ego does another fist pump in celebration.
Before I can respond with something witty—okay, more than likely something dirty—she says, “We’ll get to the shower in a minute. But first…”
I don’t have to wait to find out because Aria slithers down my body and sends me to heaven.
Chapter 13
ARIA
Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” starts playing. Cuts off and starts again. Kama’s ring tone.
With bright sunlight streaming in through the crack in the curtain, I slowly rouse and stretch, feeling sore in all the best places. Mason and I certainly made up for lost time last night. And this morning. The bed, the shower, the bed again, on the kitchen table when we went to grab a snack to eat at four in the morning, the wall in the hallway. And to make the entire night even more perfect, I fell asleep with my head on his lap as he read me Yeats from the book of poetry I keep on my nightstand.
Mason’s sleep-husky, deep voice groans near my ear. “Your phone has been going off for the last five minutes.”
“It’s just Kama being nosy.”
He chuckles. “Sounds like her.”
Kama has always been Team Mason. She’s going to flip when she hears that we’re back together.
Mason smooths a hand up my leg, making me squirm. We’re facing one another, our heads sharing the same pillow.
“Want me to get it?” he asks when it goes off again.
In answer, I snuggle back down into his warmth. I’m not ready to move yet. Mason palms my ass and pulls me closer tohim, kissing the side of my breast. Desire begins to swirl through me, but I tamp it down and enjoy my quiet cuddle time. I’m too sore anyway and will need a day or two to recover.
“What time is it?”
His lips touch my forehead. “Eight.”
Which means I’ve only gotten about two hours of somewhat slumber. Brandon won’t be back until this afternoon, so… I think a nap is in order.
Before sleep can reclaim me again, a delicious aroma tickles my nose and engages my brain. I squint one eye open and am met with Mason’s blue-eyed, gorgeous face.
“Please tell me that’s coffee and not me hallucinating.”
“You’re not hallucinating. There are also eggs, bacon, freshly squeezed orange juice, and triangles of toast, lightly buttered.”
My heart goes all gooey and melty. He made me breakfast in bed.
“You made me breakfast?”
Just thinking about food has my stomach gurgling its hunger and making obscene noises.
With a long-fingered masculine hand, he wraps it around my throat and tips my chin up with his thumb so he can kiss me.
“I did.”
“When?”
I didn’t notice him get out of bed. Then again, four orgasms will make any woman comatose.
