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Mason stops speaking. He presses his lips together, and I feel his fingertips tighten around my wrist.

“Catherine. I’ve been aware of you from the day you started working for Caleb this season. Every time you’re in the garage I know it. I know it from the perfume you wear,” Mason says. “I know this scent. I know it only belongs to you. I know the sound of your laugh. How your blue eyes light up when you’re amused, or flash in a meeting when you’re annoyed with stupid people. I tried to ignore these things. Put them out of my head so I wouldn’t go crazy. Because your last name is Collings and your family has my future in their hands. Your grandfather is a legend in F1. He would not only rip up my contract if he knew what I was thinking about you, but then he would kill me. Then your dad and Caleb would kill me all over again. So I buried all of this, thinking this idea was a disaster in the making. You were untouchable. And I was able to put all of this aside until I saw Isla with Caleb. Caleb went after what he wanted, consequences be damned. He took a risk. And he got his girl.”

I tremble all over as I try to digest his words. “What do you want?”

“This is a terrible idea,” Mason says, his voice rough and sensual as he lowers his head closer to mine. Now I can feel his breath whisper across my lips, and everything inside of me aches with need.

I swallow. “I know.”

“We could kiss and get it out of our system,” he suggests, his lips now hovering just above mine.

I bite my lip. That’s not what I want. At all. But it might be all I can ever realistically have of Mason, and if it’s being offered, I’ll take it.

“We … we could,” I manage to say as I feel his nose brush gently against mine.

“We grab this one moment between us and then move on,” he continues as one hand slides slowly up my back, to the nape of my neck, fingertips skimming across my skin. “But I don’t think I can do that.”

What?

“If I kiss you, Catherine, I don’t think it will ever be out of my system. You will never be out of my system. Knowing that, tell me what you want from me. Because once we do this, there’s no going back.”

The sexual tension between us is so thick and tight, it’s unbearable. I can feel every breath of his caressing my skin. Mason’s scent is now a part of me, and I can feel his heart underneath my palm. His words turn over in my brain, how this man has carried pieces of me with him wherever he goes, and there is no doubt of what I’m going to do.

“Kiss me, Mason. And don’t stop.”

Chapter Twelve

In one move, Mason lifts me up and quickly presses me back against the shut wardrobe door, and I bang against it as my legs hook around him. His mouth is hard and fast on mine, demanding entry, which I instantly give him. The kiss is hot. Desperate. Wet. His hands are in my hair, gripping it as his tongue takes and takes and takes from me.

And I want him to.

I move my hands around the back of his neck as I kiss him furiously, my lips and tongue ravenous for as much of him as I can have. I slide one hand down the side of his neck, feeling the heat from his skin and the strong muscles built by driving in Formula 1. His facial hair is rough against my skin, burning it, and I want more of this.

More of him.

His hands are in my hair, and I can feel him grow hard against me. Then he tears his mouth away from mine, and I gasp for air as he moves one hand to my jaw, angling my head for access as his mouth finds my neck.

“Mason,” I murmur, plunging my fingers into his silky locks and closing my eyes. He’s kissing and sucking along the column of my neck, and I tremble from the sensation of his rapid breathing against my skin.

“This is such a bad, bad, bad idea,” he groans sexily into me. Then his tongue flickers over my pulse point, and I can feel him smile into my skin, which causes a tremor to run through me. “But you like this bad, bad idea, too, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I manage to say as he continues to explore my neck.

“I love the way your skin tastes. I love that you smell like citrus and sunshine. I just want to bury myself here,” he whispers against my skin, his breath a warm, sensual rush over it before he kisses the column of my throat again.

I have to be dreaming. This can’t be real, can it? I’ve ached for this moment. I’ve dreamt of kissing Mason. But I never thought it would ever happen.

Not only is it happening, it’s also the hottest kissing encounter I’ve ever had in my life. It’s like he can’t consume enough of me. I feel desired. And I’m greedily taking every moment of it.

Mason’s lips work their way up to my jaw, kissing it, then find my mouth again, but this time, it’s a deep, slow, exploring kiss. I begin to stroke his hair, my fingertips raking through his chocolate-brown locks, and a groan escapes his throat. My body tightens instinctively at the sound. I take his lower lip and draw it in between my teeth, sinking into it, and he shudders against me. I tilt his head back and begin my own exploration of his jaw. His neck. His throat. God! I can taste his skin and his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his tanned skin.

“This feels too good to be real,” he murmurs. I move up next to his ear, taking the lobe between my teeth and causing him to shiver.

“It’s very, very real,” I whisper in his ear, my mouth brushing his skin.

A moan escapes his lips, and my mouth captures his again in another deep, hot, sensual kiss that I completely lose myself in. His hands shift to my hips, holding me in place against the wardrobe door, and we continue to explore each other until finally he pulls back. We both take in a breath, and he sets me down on the floor, sliding his hands to my face and resting his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, savouring this sweet gesture, and treasuring the way I can breathe him in. Feel the burn his facial scruff has left on my face, hear his breathing begin to slow. His hands continue to caress my face, and I swear I don’t want to open my eyes.

Because I don’t want this to be over.