Page 9 of Unromance

He guided her legs around his waist before picking her up. She was still limp-noodle-limbed, so it was a feat that he managed to move her at all, but she supposed he didn’t have all those muscles for nothing. Speaking of…

As he carried her down the hallway to the primary bedroom—how big was this fucking condo, honestly?—she pressed kisses along his jawline, keeping one arm around his neck while the other began slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. He lowered her onto the bed, and she tucked her legs beneath her, rising up on her knees to finish unbuttoning his shirt. She needed to see what her fingers had felt earlier, before she got too distracted again. The last button undone, she pressed her palms against his chest, pushing the shirt back over his shoulders, sending it cascading to the ground.

“Are you kidding?” she blurted.

“What?” he asked in alarm, glancing down at himself.

“Who actually has abs like that? Who has the time?” she bleated.

He glanced at her, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips, cheeks dimpling. Fucking unreal. This man was not real. This was some highly vivid sex dream she was having, which was why she allowed herself to stare unabashedly, her hands roving over his chest, her fingers dipping between the muscles of his abdomen. Absurd.Ab-surd. Sawyer laughed under her breath.

“Could younotlaugh while touching my body?” Mason chastised lightly.

She tore her eyes off his stupidly perfect body to look him in the eye while her hand continued roaming south, palming his erectionthrough his pants. His eyes fluttered shut, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. She grinned to herself, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants and undoing his fly, his pants pooling on the ground next to his shirt. She snaked a hand around his waist, slipping beneath his boxers to squeeze his ass.

His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip to keep from grinning. He did that a lot, and now that she knew how those teeth felt when scraping across her skin, nipping at it—she forgot what she was doing for a moment, needing to feel his mouth on hers again. He moaned, pulling her against him brusquely before pushing her back on the bed and crawling on top of her.

She always thought she wouldn’t enjoy a one-night stand, too self-conscious to get out of her own head, but Mason was like a fantasy plucked straight from her daydreams. He groaned every time she ground her hips against his, sighed when she took his bottom lip between her teeth, touched her where she wanted and also where he wanted.

He worked her shirt over her head, sighing contentedly, though she wore her most boring nude bra—she was wearing a white shirt, what else was she supposed to wear underneath? But the way his eyes lit up, she glanced down expecting to see that she’d worn one of the lacy-cutout bralettes that barely kept her boobs from spilling out. As he reached around to unhook her bra, she reached down, running her hand over the length of him. His teeth sank into her shoulder and she moaned, stroking him again.

“Fuck,” he swore into her neck, breathing heavily.

She tugged on the waistband of his boxers, his erection springing free. He bit down on her shoulder once more as she wrapped her hand around him, pumping once, twice, before pushing him onto his back. She made a show of shrugging out of her bra, his pupilsblown wide. He wanted to play with her breasts—badly. She wanted it, too, but first, she had a favor to repay. She kissed her way down his body before taking him into her mouth. When he’d gone down on her, she’d forgotten her name, his name—how to make words in general, really—but Mason did not. He moaned and swore and cursed her name incessantly. He wasn’t one of those men who bit back his noises, and the way he made his pleasure known with his guttural groans and gasped swears—was really fucking hot.

“Fuck, Sawyer, please,” he moaned, guiding her face back up to his.

“Yes?” was all she managed before he crushed his mouth against hers, rolling her under him and pressing her into the mattress.

Just as suddenly, his warmth was gone. Disappointed, she propped up on her elbows to see him sitting on his feet at the edge of the bed, rifling through his nightstand. The dim lighting caught on the foil packet, and she sighed in relief. This foreplay was amazing, but she was fairly certain she was at risk of becoming dehydrated from how goddamn wet she was.

As he came to hover over her, she held up a hand, rolling onto her stomach. “I’m not doing fucking missionary for my first one-night stand.”

He gently guided her hips up before pressing his chest against her back. Brushing her hair off to the side, his lips grazed the shell of her ear. “Just because it’s a one-night stand doesn’t mean we only get to go one round.”

Her witty retort died on her tongue as he eased slowly into her. Oh, fuck yes. They were definitely going multiple rounds. Sawyer was fairly certain she entered some sort of sex-induced fugue state, only coming to when he had her on her back in some new position she’d never done before and wasn’t sure why not. Sure, it wasn’t themost flattering angle for her, but it was agreatangle for the only part of her body she cared about right now. Fanfuckingtastic actually.

Was this what she’d been missing out on all this time? Were all one-night stands this mind-blowingly good? Why had she wasted so many years of her prime doing anything but this? Or was it just Mason? It was unfortunate that this could only be a one-time thing. She could use a few more nights of this. As she hurtled over the edge for the nth time, she vowed to rename all her vibrators Mason.

CHAPTER FOUR

SWORN OFF RELATIONSHIPS– The hero says, “I’m giving up on love to focus on my career,” and the universe says, “Lol, hold my beer.”

Mason knew this was coming, butnot like this. He’d been staring down at his phone the past few minutes, unable to read further than the headline and photo, glaring daggers at Diedre Browne’s byline underneath.

Two weeks ago, Browne had written “People’s Favorite On- and Off-Screen Romances.” She’d included Dr. Santiago and Nurse Lia, Mason and Kara’s characters onDiagnostics. Innocuous enough, except he and Kara weren’t together anymore—on- or off-screen, the writers leaving the show’s central romance up in the air after the midseason finale. Mason was sympathetic to the fans’ outrage, considering his real-life relationship with Kara had been “up in the air” for six months. But now, every article about the two of them, recycling some months-old picture, was like being on a roller coaster, inching higher and higher, knowing the terrifying drop was moments away.

Last week, Browne penned another article: “Sleigh Bells or Wedding Bells for Zest?” He was numb to the media’s corny Zhao-West portmanteau, but the photo that accompanied the article had sparked a media frenzy the likes of which Mason had never had to deal withbefore. Sure, he played a hot doctor on TV and had a history of dating costars, which the media loved, but the great thing about living in Chicago was he didn’t get recognized nearly as much as he had in LA. However, he might have gotten a little too used to it.

Two weeks ago, when his mom asked him to pick up the necklace she’d had re-clasped from the jeweler, he hadn’t thought twice about it. And yeah, maybe he’d wandered over to the ring case while he waited, daydreaming about what it might be like to one day pick one out for someone, but he didn’t think the security camera footage would be sold toPeople. For the past week, the tabloids had been up in arms about a pending Christmastime Zest proposal.

Until today. Mason had to hand it to Diedre Browne. She’d clearly been planning this all along, hyping up Zest before announcing their split. The photo of Kara cozied up to her new costar wouldn’t have sold nearly as many copies without the accompanying photo of Mason looking heartbroken and sporting a Grizzly Adams beard. He wasn’t heartbroken or bearded. The photo was many years old, from a role in his friend Alissa’s breakout project.

Speaking of, his phone buzzed with an incoming text from Alissa. They’d been best friends since they were teenagers, when they’d played siblings in the blockbuster Disney movieThe Heir Apparent(ly). Alissa left acting shortly after that role, but they’d worked on a number of indie films together, Alissa directing, Mason acting or producing or both—and occasionally growing a Grizzly Adams beard. Not that anyone remembered anything on his résumé beyond Disney and Hot Doctor.

Mason braced himself as he clicked the link Alissa had sent to a well-known tabloid.

Mason West’s Long List of Ex-Lovers

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