‘Maybe,’ he eventually replies.
‘Would you like me to go with you?’ I question, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear, which the wind keeps blowing it into my eyes. ‘To see him?’
Immediately, Mason shakes his head. ‘It’s not safe for you to visit him. The fewer people, the better.’
My heart squeezes. I can’t even imagine how it would feel to be in Mason’s situation. It must be awful. As much as my stepfather is stubborn and set in his ways, I don’t believe I’ve ever felt unsafe around him. Sure, he’s odd, and makes strange comments here and there, but he doesn’t seem malicious. He’s fourteen years older than my mum. It didn’t seem obvious when we were younger, but now with his grey hair and wrinkled face, the age gap between them is clear as day. It was extremely embarrassing when one of my friends assumed he was my grandfather.
We reach class, and I expect us to go separate ways, but he trails behind me and collapses into the vacant seat beside mine.
‘I’m starting to think you’re attached to my hip,’ I joke.
‘In my dreams I am.’ He winks, and I realise he took my comment completely out of context.
‘Did the dream only last five seconds?’ I ask sweetly.
His jaw drops. ‘Excuse you?’
‘Sorry,’ I concede, my voice dripping in sarcasm. ‘It was more like three seconds.’
He lets out a dark laugh, running his tongue against the inside of his cheek. ‘Trust me, Blush, the next time I fuck you, you’ll be screaming my name and seeing stars.’ He leans forward, and the heat of his skin seeps into mine. ‘And believe me, it will be longer than three fucking seconds.’
My ears are ringing and my face is on fire as his dark eyes bore into mine. I gulp, facing the front of the room, unable to form a response to that. The lecturer strides in at that moment, saving me from having to scramble for something to say. I sink low into my seat, hating that I can sense the smirk on Mason’s face, even though I’m not looking at him.
I can’t focus for the entire the lesson. I feel extremely unsettled and flustered because of what Mason said, and the fact that our arms keep brushing as we take notes. I was supposed to become immune to his charms and the unwavering effect he has on me. How the hell has it gotten evenworse?
By the time class ends, my notes are in shambles, as well as my mind. Slowly, I begin to pack up my things as the room starts to empty.
‘Coming?’ Mason smirks, and I hate the ripple of desire that inches down my spine when he says it, the double meaning like a prickle on my skin.
‘I need a minute,’ I mutter. ‘You go ahead.’
‘Our next class isn’t for another hour.’
‘Exactly. I’m good here. Run along.’
‘Is that what a good friend would do?’ Mason asks, pushing to his feet and turning to lean against the desk.
I gulp when I realise the last person just left, the door swinging shut behind them with a deafening bang.
‘Mason,’ I breathe. ‘I’m trying very hard to keep a hold of my self-control right now, and you’re not helping.’
‘Helping you hang on to that control is not exactly my intention, Blush.’
I scramble to my feet and begin shoving my things into my bag, wincing as my notebook bends when I press down on it aggressively.
He steps closer, his warm breath fanning across my neck as his hard chest rubs against my shoulder. ‘Let me relieve the pressure,’ he murmurs, his voice smooth, melting my insides into a pool of hot liquid. His mouth is millimetres from my ear, sending shivers racing through my body.
I exhale, closing my eyes and clenching my thighs. I love his dirty mouth. ‘I don’t want to fall for you again,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t want you to hurt me.’
‘I won’t hurt you, Blush,’ Mason says, his voice firm. ‘I promise.’
‘Promises don’t mean shit when it comes to you.’
‘Blush,’ he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. ‘I know you want me as badly as I want you. I want to make you feel good. To make up for ...’ He pauses. ‘For our first time.’ Pushing my hair back over my shoulder, he leaves a soft, lingering kiss on the delicate flesh of my throat. ‘Only if you want it, of course.’
I’m panting at this point, gripping the desk like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. We are doing this. We are acknowledging what happened, and he wants to make up for it. Is this really happening right now?
‘Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,’ he whispers.
