Page 21 of Stolen Moments

Emery

I look up thestreet as my little bungalow with its white siding and green shutters comes into view. I’m almost sad to see it because it means that my night with Mason is over.

Never have I ever pulled up to my home and felt sad. I love my little house. It’s a small two-bedroom-two-bathroom home I got for a steal nearly four years ago. It’s nothing special, but it’s all mine. I have never felt more at home than I do here, in this quiet neighborhood in Pine Hills.

I had hoped Chris would move in with me and go to college at U Portland, but when he got a scholarship to LACU film school, he moved south and never looked back. I’m so proud of him, even though I miss him like crazy. He deserves to chase after his dreams, and I plan on helping him get there any way I can. At least until he turns twenty-five. Then, the trust fund our grandfather left him will be released.

It’s not a lot of money but enough for us to be comfortable. I used mine to put a down payment on my house. I love that when I come home every day, I’m reminded of my Papa’s loving heart and generosity. Losing him was really hard. He was a wonderful man and more of a parent to me and Chris than our own father. We spent summers on the Gulf Coast with him until he passed away from a heart attack over ten years ago. I know things wouldbe different if he were still alive. He never would have allowed my parents to manipulate me and send Chris to boarding school.

While I wish my parents truly cared about us, I know they don’t. I doubt they even wanted us to begin with. We were just another box to check off. Another familial expectation to fulfill. The same expectations they are forcing on me now.

Movement to my right pulls me from my thoughts. Turning my head towards the man who showed up out of nowhere, I find him watching me as we sit parked in my driveway. Mason’s sea-green gaze is intense and the burnt honey streaks in his irises glimmer in the dimly lit car as they bore into mine. The butterflies in my stomach soar.

He’s so freaking sexy.

I never expected to see him again, even though he’s all I’ve been thinking about since we shared that flight all those weeks ago. I don’t think I can keep resisting him, nor do I want to. Without even realizing it, he’s urging me to choose myself for once. With his scruff-covered angular jaw, tentative smile, and smoldering gaze, he already had me smitten. But now?

After this incredible date and getting to know him better, I don’t want to stay away from him. I want to know every little detail that makes him the sweet, thoughtful man he is. I’m even drawn to his slightly bossy attitude. It’s hot, and I’m here for it.

I’m completely compelled by everything about him. He intrigues me on so many levels, and the chemistry between us is off the charts. I just know, down to my soul, that one night with Mason wouldn’t be enough. He’s already taken an ax to my control, and all it took was one date with him.

He’s shown me just how lonely and unhappy I am. It hurts knowing that we have to end this before it even starts because it would be selfish of me to start something with him when my life is more complicated than it appears.

Why does Mason have to be so damn irresistible?

“Thank you so much for tonight. I had a wonderful time,” I whisper.

“It was my pleasure. I had a great time too.” His voice comes out thick and gruff as he leans closer and pushes a stray hair behind my ear. “Thank you for going out with me.”

I freeze as he slowly follows the shape of my jaw with his lips, his mouth hovering over mine. All I want is for him to kiss me. My breath stalls in my chest, waiting for him to finally close the fraction of the space between us.

Oh god, what is he doing to me?I shouldn’t want this so badly.

Seconds pass before Mason opens the door, climbs out of the car, and sucks the thick air out with him, allowing me to finally breathe. He walks around the front of the car, headlights illuminating his gloriously tight butt as he makes his way to my door.

Ten out of ten, I recommend checking him out.My thighs clench at the naked images of him I conjure up in my head.

Mason’s eyes catch mine, and he smirks. He totally caught me staring. He slows his pace, taking his time walking the rest of the way to my door, making a meal of my leering. My face heats as I chuckle and shake my head at the roguish smile pulling at his mouth.

Gah.I’m in so much trouble.

Biting my lip, I wait for him. Watching. My stomach flips with anticipation as he gets closer, his smile growing. Something in me tells me that Mason doesn’t smile without reason or often. It has this secretive quality to it like you only get a smile if you earn it. Being on the receiving end of it makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery.

Mason opens the door and extends his palm to me. I take the invitation, letting him help me out of the car. I exhale a tight breath as pinpricks brush across my skin at his touch. His fingers thread through mine as he leads me to the front door. With my free hand, I reach into the pocket of my coat, clasping my hand around my keys.

Mason steps close, crowding my space, enveloping me in his warm spicy … cologne? Body wash? Whatever it is, it’s intoxicating. I don’t think a man’s scent has ever turned me on before. But with Mason? Everything about him makes me hungry for more.

My clit tingles, and my heart beats wildly in my chest as the anticipation of his next move wraps around me, making the air crackle with energy. I’m dizzy. My body’s reaction to him is new; I have never reacted to a man this way before.

Stepping away, I try to create space between us and take a deep breath. Mason steps forward with me, meeting me step for step until my back hits the cold wood door, refusing to let me flee. Tilting my chin up with his knuckle, he leans forward, stopping when his lips are a hair’s breadth away from mine, his eyes locked on me.

“Emery.” His breath fans across my lips. My knees wobble at the lustful way my name rolls across his tongue.

“Yes?” I whisper, barely getting the word out. My throat feels dry, and yet my mouth is watering at the possibility of kissing this sexy man.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, now’s the time to push me away, baby doll.” The endearment rolls off his tongue seductively, and I can’t stop the approving hum that rumbles low in my throat.

Baby doll? Why does it sound so sweet and hot at the same time?

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