Page 57 of Rival for Rent

I flushed. It was ridiculous to feel shy when I’d been sucking his cock ten seconds ago. But still, I felt self-conscious as I stood and slid my briefs off.

“Good,” he said. “Now come here.”

He lay lengthwise on the couch and held his hand out. I took it, a little confused. Was I doing a bad job? I hadn’t thought so, but apparently Mason wanted to go back to hand jobs.

But when he got me on the couch, he turned me so I was lying facing out, his chest pressed against my back.

“Um, Mason? Not that I’m not enjoying this, but if you want to fuck, we’re definitely going to need some lube.”

“We’ll be alright.”

I heard him spit into his hand, then stroke his cock, and I was about to tell him that no, spitwasn’tgoing to be enough, when I felt his cock push between my thighs.

Oh. That was interesting. I’d never actually had thigh sex before—never seen the point of it, when anal was an option. Most guys I knew would rather fuck my ass than any other part of me. But as his cock slid in and out of the tight channel of my thighs, I could see the attraction.

The skin on my inner thighs was sensitive, and when Mason began stroking my cock, I decided I could get on board with this. My cock had gone without attention for too long, and I moaned as he toyed with the head, then pumped along my shaft.

He bit my shoulder, and I whimpered with pleasure. He was so much bigger than I was, physically, and I loved feeling small in comparison. Like he could break me if he wanted to.

Probably something fucked up and psychological going on there, but I didn’t need to look at it too hard. Not when I was this close to coming. Mason’s grunts grew more frequent, and I whined as my orgasm built.

“Fuck yes, you’re so good,” he growled behind me, thrusting his cock faster now.

I moaned wordlessly. It was too much. Mason wanting me. Using me. Telling me I was good.

It pushed me over the edge, and I came into his hand. I should have warned him, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He kept stroking me until I batted his hand away, spent. Then he gripped my hip and thrust harder.

“So fucking good. So. Fucking. Good.”

I felt wetness between my thighs as he came in a rush, his cock leaking all over my legs and trickling down onto the couch. I’dgotten it messy too. I definitely needed to wash the cushion cover. Or at least turn it over.

I waited until Mason stopped moving, trying to come up with something sarcastic and witty to say when he pushed me away. But he didn’t do or say anything like that. Instead, he pressed his face to the back of my neck and hugged me closer.

Huh. Never would have pegged Mason for a cuddler.

But there was a lot I’d been wrong about, when it came to Mason. There was so much more to him than I’d expected.

I could feel myself getting sleepy.I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad to lie here a little longer. Then I’ll get up and go, and leave him wanting more.

That was my last thought before drifting off.

When I woke up the next morning, I was disoriented. Why was I sleeping on the couch? And why was I naked?

A door slam rattled the house, and I sat up with a jolt, fear pumping through my chest.

“Mason? Is that you?”

I stood up, looking for my clothes. I found them in a tangled heap on the floor, and last night flooded back into my mind. Holy shit. Had Mason and I really done all that? And then literally slept together on the couch?

Before I had time to process anything, Mason emerged from the entryway. He, at least, was wearing his boxers. And he was holding another rock in his hands. This one had a note taped to it too. He thrust it at me.

I read the typed words, all thoughts of my nakedness forgotten. Fear rattled at my rib cage, trying to take control. I swallowed and read the note again.

Stop the center or I’ll show the world what you did. You can’t hide anymore.

I looked up at Mason, wincing. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

“I think you’d better tell me what this is about.”

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