Mason: Inked Reapers MC (20 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

LUCY

              When I was a kid, I used to think about what the man I ended up with would be like. I imagined him with dark hair, neatly trimmed and styled. Wearing a suit and tie to work every day; of course he carried a briefcase. He wore glasses, because he was super smart and every ten-year-old knows that’s what glasses meant. Never, during all of this daydreaming, did I picture him with near shoulder length, sandy blond hair, covered in tattoos and riding a Harley.

              No matter what I tried, I couldn’t shake Mason from my mind. I told myself over and over again that I wasn’t good for him, that he wasn’t good for me, but it didn’t work. The more excuses I came up with why my hiding from him made sense, the more my heart sank into my stomach with longing. I missed him. Not just the physical side of him, but every side. The protective way he’d throw his arm around my shoulders if we were just sitting and talking. I even missed his bossiness. Would I find those qualities attractive in someone else, or was it just because it was him that those things made me all weak in the knees—and wet in the panties?

              I’d been hiding in the cabin for three days before I finally decided to turn on my phone again. When I did, I thought it would dance right off the table from all of the messages that flooded in. Most were from Jayson, more threats, a few promises to be lenient if I just came home. What did that mean,
lenient
? He’d only punch me half a dozen times instead of a full dozen?

              The other messages were from Mason.

             
Where are you?!

              You better not have done something stupid

              You did, didn’t you?

              Lucy, you’ve earned an asswhipping.

             
Why did men think threatening a girl would get her to come out of hiding? Obviously, staying put would keep me safe from Jayson’s crazy and Mason’s punishment.

              Another text came through and I swiped the screen to read it.

             
Last chance to come clean.

              My stomach flipped, and a tingle ran through my body. In the distance, I could hear a motor. I’d heard it most of the morning; Mr. Doyle was clearing out a spot for another cabin and had been cutting down trees. Reminding myself that Mason had no idea where I was, I sat back on the couch. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

              The motor grew louder. Closer.

              I jumped up from the couch and sprinted to the window, hiding behind the curtain. Just in case. A motorcycle rounded the curve and headed toward the cabin. The rider wore sunglasses, helmet, and long sleeves. Without seeing his face, I knew it was him. Mason had found me.

              Not sure if the tingles in my stomach were good or bad, I stood frozen watching him from behind the curtain. He turned off the bike and unstrapped the helmet, letting his hair fall from its containment. Peeling his sunglasses from his eyes, he looked at the cabin. My heart stopped when our eyes connected. The deep creases around his mouth appeared as he grinned and shook his head. Leaving his helmet on the bike, he made his way to the front door of the cabin.

              It occurred me that I could run. If I sprinted, I might make it out the back door. But then what? I’d be stuck in the woods, and I doubted he would just shrug, accept defeat and get back on his bike. And exactly what was I running from? I’d been thinking of nothing but him for the past two days, and there he was. All flesh and bone. Stepping onto the porch. Raising his fist to pound on the door.

              “Lucy, open this door.” He dropped his fist to his side, foregoing the polite knock and going straight for the yelling. I leaned back against the wall, debating. “Now.” I swallowed hard. “You’re in enough trouble.”

              Thrusting my chin up, and rolling my shoulders back, I made my way to the door. He could sense fear, and it would only play into his hands. I needed to stay strong.

              I opened the door, ready to lay into him about bellowing in the woods, but seeing him smiling at me, with his eyebrow raised in the way it was, I faltered. “Hi,” I managed.

              “Uh-huh.” He pulled the screen door open. Any resistance I’d planned to give melted away when he walked past me, brushing against me as he entered the cabin.

              I watched him as he inspected the open living/dining room. He kept his eyebrow raised the entire time he looked around. “Mason.” I closed the door and turned to him. “I know—”
              “You don’t know anything.” His smile dropped.

              “Look, I’m sorry—”

              “Not yet, but you will be.” He nodded. “This place isn’t half bad.” He walked through the kitchen door and back again. “Clean.”

              “Of course it is.” I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting the action when his brow furrowed even deeper.

              He plopped down in the rocking chair, which creaked under his weight, and threw his feet up onto the coffee table. A few clumps of dirt fell onto the floor. “Now,” he folded his hands behind his head, like he had no worries in the world, “tell me what it was I told you before I left.”

              “Mason.” I took a step toward him, but the chill in his gaze stopped me. I took a shaky breath. “You told me to hold tight.” The image of Jayson’s cock bobbing before me wiped away any remorse I felt and replaced it with anger. “You left me with Jayson. You left me to suck his dick, to get fucked by him when he wanted. You just left me there.” I pointed my finger at him. I heard the tremor in my voice, but I kept going. “You didn't even tell me where you were going, or when you’d be back. Just hold tight, you said. Well, fuck that!” I picked up a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him. It hit him in the chest, but he didn’t move. Not at first.

              I froze, not sure really what to do, what to expect. Then he was almost on top of me before I got my legs to get going. I dashed under his arm and down the short hallway to the bedroom. I didn’t get any sort of lead on him though, with his long legs I only had a step on him. I tried to shut the bedroom door, but his arm blocked it. I yelped, and darted to the far corner of the room.

              He strutted in, swinging the door shut behind him. The grin should have tipped me off, but I never read signals all that well. Especially when it came to men. He took one step, then another, stalking toward me. I looked to the bed, thinking to jump over it and bolt from the room. He held up one finger and shook it side to side. “I really wouldn’t do that.”

              “You deserved it!” I yelled at him, and charged. If I couldn’t get around him, I’d just go through him. Even if he had a good hundred pounds on me, all muscle. He easily caught me under my arms, lifting me from the ground and tossing me face down onto the bed. Before I could register the movement, he was on top of me, pressing me into the mattress.

              The more I struggled the harder he pressed. He pulled my arms behind me, grasping both in one of his man paws. “Fuck!” I yelled, and kicked out my legs. It made no difference, he had me pinned.

              “Settle down, Lucy.” He didn’t sound strained, or even winded. He scooted back to sit on my legs, letting his upper body cover mine as he bent over to whisper to me. “Settle down now. You had your say.” His voice reminded me of a warm breeze on a spring day, soothing, comfortable.

              I rested my forehead on the bed and took a deep breath. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I squeezed them shut, hoping to keep them caged up. Like most things over the past few months, I had no say, and the tears slipped out anyway. Deep sobs rattled my chest and I simply gave in. Mason was back. He’d come for me.

              When I finally calmed, his hands smoothed over my hair. He had moved off of me and sat beside me now, petting me. I rolled over to my side, to get better look at him. “There you are.” He smiled down at me. His fingers were rough as they wiped away the tears on my cheeks. I sniffled and closed my eyes again.

              “I’m sorry I threw the pillow at you,” I whispered, throwing my arm over my eyes. I couldn’t look at him yet, not full on.

              “I know.” He ran the back of his hand down my arm. “I’m sorry, too. I never should have left you with Jayson. No matter what, I should have taken your ass away from him and hid you away myself.” I looked up at him, studying him more closely, the anger had dissipated. He slid his hand along my jaw, cupping my face before he brought his lips down on me.

              It felt like an eternity since I last had him so close to me, but everything righted itself once the warmth of his lips touched mine. I felt nothing other than his hands on me, soothing me, feeling me. He carried a faint scent of pine from his ride through the woods. Shifting his position, his leg draped over both of mine, keeping me trapped as he deepened the kiss. One hand pulled the hem of my dress up over my hips, until he could feel my panties.

              He broke off the kiss while his fingers hooked into the elastic of my panties and pulled the thin material away from my now slick pussy. “You still have a punishment coming to you.” His eyes sparkled when he made his decision. “But I don’t think a spanking will do.” He kissed the tip of my nose. One finger circled my clit, around and around he moved his finger, barely touching the swollen nub. I tried to arch up, to get the relief I so desperately needed. “Nope.” He shifted his weight again, pinning my hips down.

              “Please. Mason.” I didn’t want to play games, I needed his touch. I needed him to take the ache of him being gone away. To make me forget Jayson’s grimy touch.

“I know what you need, baby.” His lips trailed down my jaw, down my neck, to the buttons of my dress. Skilled fingers never left me, they continued to torment and tease, making my pussy drip with want. He managed to unbutton the dress with one hand and slip the clasp open between my breasts, freeing them from the cups. He took one nipple between his teeth, gently at first, holding it while his tongue flicked across it.

“Mason.” I tugged at his cut. A sharp pain shot through my nipple at the same time he finally pressed down on my clit. Sensations flooded me, mixing perfectly together, pain and pleasure. I gasped, opened my eyes and tried to cry out, but nothing escaped me. Mason released my nipple, dragging his tongue across the now sensitive bud, and grinning when I moaned beneath him.

              “Fuck, you’re wet.” He nuzzled my breast while his finger slid lower, then back up again, toying with me. Finally his finger poised at my entrance, one knuckle then a second. Another finger.

              “Please!” I bent my legs, planting my feet to help me leverage my hips up.

              “Bad girl.” He laughed and removed his hand. Before I could argue, or even pout at the empty feeling he left behind, he flipped me over on to my stomach. The skirt of my dress flew up, and he began spanking me with an open palm. Again and again the flat of his hand landed on the curve of my ass, striking it only to move lower onto my thighs. I tried to wiggle away, but his forearm held me down. “Bad girls get spankings,” he chided, but I could hear the levity in his voice.              

              After a dozen swats, he stopped, rubbing my heated ass with the hand. Gripping my flesh, squeezing it until I moaned. The spanking ignited a deeper lust in me, and I pulled my knees up, pushing my ass out toward him. “No more games.” I looked over my shoulder.

              He moved to kneel behind me, using both hands to roam over my ass. “No. No more games.” He winked, then one hand disappeared beneath me. I felt the tip of his finger brush against my clit and my eyes rolled again. I wanted to punch the pillow, to scream at him to stop the torment, but I knew it would only make him take that much more of his time.

              I didn’t hear his pants unbuckled or unzip, but his cock pressing against my entrance told me he had. Gripping the bed, I braced myself for the first thrust, the wonderful power of his him plowing into me. He had other plans.

              The swollen head of his cock rubbed up and down my slit, pushing against my pussy, but never entering it. He stroked my clit still, with a gentle touch that began to drive me out of my mind with need. “Mason,” I ground out, but he only chuckled in response.