Page 170 of Between Regrets and Promises

“Ineedyou, Mason,” she whispers, then sucks in her lower lip like a temptress.

Fuck. Me.

“Soph,” I say cautiously, cupping her cheek and rubbing my thumb over it like I’ve done dozens of times before.

“Please?” she asks, nearly begging.

“I can’t,” I begrudgingly say.

Not taking no for an answer, she begins to take off her clothes. Carefully, she pulls off her shirt and drops it to the floor. Not waiting another second, she unbuttons and unzips her shorts, then kicks them away while keeping her eyes locked with mine. She stands in only her bra and panties, and my hands ball into fists to keep myself from reaching out and touching her. I bite down on my bottom lip and swallow hard as I studyevery soft curve of her body and grow harder with each passing second.

“Soph,” I growl. “We can’t.”

She walks around me, and I watch as she pulls back the sheets, then lies down on the bed, batting her lashes at me. When I move closer toward her, she crawls under the blankets and curls her finger at me to join her. I swallow down the lump in my throat, knowing this is notherright now. As if she sees my hesitation, she goes a step further and takes off her bra, then dangles it outside the covers with a sultry grin, teasing the shit out of me. I close my eyes tight and tell myself to get the fuck out of there. I’d never take advantage of her after she’s been drinking, but she’s seriously testing me right now.

“Coming in?” she asks.

“No.”

She pouts out her lower lip, giving me her best sad eyes. “Why? Are you out of condoms?” She asks the question so innocently, I bark out a laugh that’s mostly strained with afuck my lifegroan as I pinch the back of my neck. “I can’t, Soph. You’ve been drinking.”

The words nearly cause me physical pain because if she weren’t drunk, she wouldn’t have to ask twice.

“Will you at least hold me then?”

Sucking in a breath, I nod, and she scoots over for me to climb in behind her. She presses her ass against my erection that obviously has no shame or willpower. Her breath hitches when I nuzzle my nose and lips against the softness of her neck. She reaches for my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine, then rests it against her stomach, which is way too close to both her pussy and bare tits. Forcing myself to close my eyes, I take in this moment, the way she smells and how she feels, until we both fall asleep.

The next morning, I wake up in a stupor, not knowing where I am until I realize Sophie is still in my arms. I’m relieved it wasn’t a dream, and she really asked me in here because too many times I’ve woken up disappointed. In my sleepy haze, I somehow find the strength to slip out of her bed without startling her.

The first thing I do is go upstairs and take a cold shower because goddamn, just thinking about her body against mine is making me hard all over again. As I stand in the shower, my dick nearly breaks off when I grab it and squeeze it tight. Placing my hand against the wall, I roughly stroke myself to thoughts of her. I think about all the dirty fucking things I want to do to her, kissing her from head to toe, then making love to her until her body convulses. Remembering the night in the bar bathroom and the softness of her moans as she comes makes me see white. Grunts escape me as the orgasm takes over. My heart races, and I breathe erratically as I try to calm down, but that’s not going to happen until I can have her again.And again and again.

After my shower, I go to my bedroom and slip on some jogging pants. Considering eating together in the mornings is our tradition, I make breakfast for us, but this morning, she’s getting French toast because after drinking a bottle of wine, she’s going to need something heavier in her stomach.

I start the coffee, then pull out the ingredients. Just as I place the bread inside the egg wash, footsteps shuffle behind me.

When I glance over my shoulder, I hold back a smirk at how rough she looks. At least she put her clothes on.

“Oh my God, I think I’m dead.” She takes a seat at the table and puts her head down but faces me. “Just kill me now and put me out of my misery please.”

I set a cup of coffee and the bottle of creamer in front of her. “Liam will get you in trouble everysingle time. Remember that for next time.” I grin, then move back to the stove and continue cooking. As the bread sizzles, I grab my coffee and sip it as she puts her hands over her face. She’s a hungover mess, and I can’t stop chuckling.

“Also, please tell me I didn’t come on to you,” she says, then narrows her eyes when I smirk. “Please tell me that’s not why I woke up almost completely naked.”

I burst into laughter. “Oh yeah, about that.”

Dread covers her face, and her cheeks turn pink, which I find adorable. Even after everything we’ve been through, she still blushes around me.

“Wow. I suck.” She smacks herself on the forehead. “You’re a saint. That’s all I have to say.”

“I’ve told you once, and I’ll tell you again…” I remind her, repeating my words from the night we met, “I’m no saint.”

She bites down on her lip again, and it drives me crazy as hell. By the look on her face, she’s also reliving the moment. I place the French toast on a plate and grab the syrup, then set it in front of her.

Leaning down, I rest one hand on the table and one behind her on the chair as I lower my voice and whisper in her ear, “The next time you beg me to fuck you, I won’t say no. So youbetter mean it and be sober because my restraint is hanging by a thread.”

Her breath hitches, and before she can respond, we’re being startled by Maddie waltzing into the kitchen like she owns the damn place.

“Oh my God.” She freezes in her tracks. “Did you two finally have sex again?” Maddie looks back and forth between us.

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