Page 40 of Drown Like Heaven
“No.” I swallowed, Mason’s palm still pressing against the motion of my throat. “Scared she’d run away.”
“Did she run away?”
“Yes.”
The memory wasn’t clear in my mind; it was like looking through murky water, swirling and dark. I figured I was about three or four years old, looking out the back window of the trailer I’d grown up in. We didn’t really have a backyard, but the way the forest backed up to the park made it feel like we did.
Most of the kids who lived near me were scared of that forest. It was so dark, darker than things should be during the daytime—or maybe my childlike mind was magnifying it. But I knew I wasn’t scared of it, even back then.
Just like I’d always liked the violence of the ocean, I’d always liked the darkness of the forest.
There were loud voices in the memory of the doe, shouting and angry. That’s why I was scared she was going to run away, because she’d hear the yelling.
I couldn’t remember now what had caused her to dart off in the end. Maybe it was the yelling, or maybe a car driving down the road, or a can getting crumpled under a foot outside. I did remember being sad about it, though. I remembered the flash of her white tail.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay.” My body was hot and I was staring at Mason with heavy eyelids, my lips parting, giving him permission. I didn’t want to think about my childhood.
“What’s your first memory?” I asked.
“The first one that matters is grabbing your wrist.” He nodded his head towards the ocean.
If I had known what I knew now, would I have gone in after him on that day? I had no idea.
Uncontrollable waves, saltwater in my mouth, heavy clothes sticking to my skin, tangled hair, choked breaths, dangerous currents. The warm, solid presence of him pulling me out.
“I don’t know if that counts,” I protested quietly.
He used his hold on my throat to bring me even closer, so close his lips brushed mine when he spoke, “Well, that’s my answer.”
He ran his mouth over mine and butterflies exploded in my stomach.
Eat me alive. Scare me to death.
Swallow me whole.
Chapter 12
Dakota
My breath caught with the press of Mason’s lips and I knew he heard it, the way I felt him smile against my skin. He skimmed his mouth along my jaw, his breath warm on the shell of my ear. A shiver worked through my muscles in a wave, creeping over my desperate body, turning me into a mess for him.
“Slutty little thing,” he murmured. “So desperate. So easy.”
Only easy for you.
I just want to feel something, feel you, feel all the terrible things we could be together.
I was panting as he kissed me, his tongue sweeping over the seam of my lips, pushing into my mouth. The wind coming off the ocean made my hair drift around us, the softness brushing my cheeks.
Mason’s fingers hooked into the waistband of my jeans and he harshly yanked me forward, dragging me onto his lap so I was straddling him. He moved his hands lower to grip my hips, to slap my ass. I flinched at the quick pain spreading warmth into my muscles.
But he kept groping me, kissing me like he couldn’t get close enough, hardly giving me enough space to breathe.
Too fast. Too rough.
My arms looped around his neck, fingers raking through his hair, tongue fighting his.
