Page 9 of Grateful for You
I slowly turned to face her, my head light and dizzy.
The word ‘dressed’ seemed an exaggeration to me. She only wore a t-shirt… no bra. Was she even wearing panties beneath that shirt? If I reached out and lifted the bottom hem, would I find more of that intoxicating flesh, wet and ready for me?
Even though there was nothing overtly sexy about the outfit, her curves made the simple t-shirt look downright pornographic.
“It was an accident.” She twisted the edge of her worn t-shirt between her fingers. “It was actually kind of sweet… you rushing and knocking on my door, thinking I was hurt. No one’s looked out for me like that in alongtime.”
There was a twisting sensation in my gut at her admission.How is that possible?With a woman like Piper in your life, how could you do anything but cherish her?
Her face tightened and she stood, crossing briskly toward me with her finger up, pointing in my face. “No,” she admonished. “Don’t do that. Don’t pity me. We’ll be just fine as long as you don’t pity me,ever.”
My breath caught high in my chest as she moved so close to me I could smell her—hints of soap and also something feminine and soft.
Fuck me.I wasn’t celibate or anything… but it had been a while since I’d had a woman in my bed.Work was too busy, I had told myself. But that was a lie. I didn’t want to be hurt again—used again. And the easiest way to avoid that was to simply avoidallinteraction with the opposite sex.
“I don’t pity you.” My voice was rough, and despite my better judgment, I dragged my finger up to her face, gently brushing it across the bruise on her cheek. “But I am worried about you… and there’s a distinct difference between the two.”
Her breath hitched, causing her breasts to bounce and brush against my bare chest. Her weight shifted from side to side and fuck me if she wasn’t rubbing her soft thighs together in that needy way women do.
My cock was fully erect, and as she moved side to side, her hip bumped into me—her brown eyes going wide at the realization of what she just hit.
“Mason,” she whispered my name, looking up at me through a veil of thick, black lashes that slowly blinked. Parting her lips, she tilted her head… an offering. Those lips were mine for the taking. All I had to do was kiss her. Lean in two inches and ravage that pretty, little pout.
But I couldn’t do it. Not like this. Not until she was one hundred percent sure and consenting… and honestly, maybe not even then. I owed her a safe place to sleep. A sanctuary that she didn’t need to feel like she owed meanythingfor.
I swallowed hard and bit back a groan as I stepped away. “I, uh, need to go. That non-existent friend is waiting for me at a bar that may or may not be open.”
I rushed out of the room, not bothering to hide the fact that I was clearly running from her. I was halfway down the stairs, when her soft voice stopped me. “You’re not wearing a shirt, Mason.”
I halted mid-step, glancing up at where she leaned over the railing. From this viewpoint, I could see up the loose t-shirt, catching a glimpse of smooth pink flesh between her legs. Her smirk grew as she turned, heading back to her room with a little wave over her shoulder. “Then again, maybe this fictional friend won’t mind you shirtless in a non-existent bar.”
6
Piper
My whole plan of going to bed early was completely botched despite my best efforts. I read a book that Mason had on the shelf in the guest room for about twenty minutes before trying to close my eyes and fall asleep. But every time I tried, I got more and more restless.
Finally, with a grunt, I kicked off the covers, slipped on a pair of shorts beneath my t-shirt, and slid my feet into a pair of slippers I had managed to toss into my bag before running.
Athena sat up, tilting her head at me.
“Oh, don’t judge me. He said to make ourselves at home,” I bent and gave my girl a kiss between her ears. “Maybe a hot chocolate will help calm my nerves.”
Athena followed me as I shuffled down the stairs of the otherwise silent house. A quick peek out the front window confirmed my suspicions that Mason’s car wasn’t in the driveway and he was still out somewhere. At a bar.
I passed by his kitchen table where a big bowl of apples sat and I ran my fingertips over them, crossing to the fridge. Bottles on the door clanked as I tugged it open and grabbed the carton of milk. I poured some into a pan on the stovetop, then opened a few cabinets in search of cocoa.
In the cupboard next to his stove, I found the hot cocoa, and just as I was about to close it, a grocery store brand of instant mashed potatoes and instant stuffing caught my eye.No. He wouldn’t make instant food for his orphan Thanksgiving, would he?
I reached in, digging around the cupboard and found a can of cranberry sauce next to a can of green beans, and canned pumpkin pie filling.
What in the actual hell?
I looked down at Athena, sitting at my feet. “Looks like we’ve got some work to do.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, I had rummaged around his cabinets enough to find real potatoes, bacon, and some sour cream. There was hope for this bachelor yet! The potatoes were boiling on the stove, the bacon was sizzling, and I had even found half a loaf of stale bread at the back of the cabinet… in front of another full loaf ofunstale bread. No doubt, he bought the second loaf thinking he was out of bread. My dad used to do the same thing all the time.
