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Goddess.Those were the best orgasms I've ever had, even counting the ones withthem.
I look at Brooklyn in time to see her smirk and suck her fingers into her mouth, licking my cum off them and groaning like it tastes more akin to a cake than my release. A flutter pulses through my core at the sight in a little post-shock orgasm. She bends down and places a little kiss at the junction of my thigh and works her way up again, peppering them across every inch of skin she can see until she reaches my lips. It's not even a question to kiss her back. It's not aggressive or demanding. Her soft, plump lips mold against mine in an unhurried, passionate embrace. I feel her hand slide up to the side of my head, fingers tangle in my hair, as she holds my head to hers, and continues kissing me like she has all the time in the world. My heart aches a little, and I melt against her.
When she finally pulls away, her eyes lock on mine, and my mouth pops open in surprise at the depth of affection staring back at me. But then it's like an invisible breeze blows through the living room, and her arousal hits me in the face with the force of a brick wall. My body locks up, the urge to pounce on her just as demanding as it was a few moments ago when I woke up. I reach my hand down between our bodies to return the favor, but she snatches my wrist in her grip before I can touch her, making me whimper.
Brooklyn chuckles. "None of that, cherub. This was for you." She plants a sweet kiss on my nose and then settles back into the couch and pulls my body against hers. "Sleep now," she whispers. I'm about to protest, my body starting to heat up again, but then she starts to purr, and before I know it, sleep pulls me under its gentle embrace again.
Twenty
Summer
"That'll be sixteen,"I tell the short beta girl with mousy brown hair as I slide the shots across the counter. She hands over her card and asks me to close the tab out. I do, glancing at the clock out of the corner of my eye again. It's almost four, and Maverick should be here for our date any minute. Nerves have been assaulting me all day, even more so the closer it's gotten to the end of my shift. Ava has teased me mercilessly about it since I let it slip he’d be picking me up. But there's something off about her today. She's smiling and laughing and getting on like she usually does, but she's got a dead look in her eyes. I've been wrestling with whether I should confront her about it, but I don't want to make it worse, whatever it is that put the look in her eyes to begin with.
She was fine before I accidentally fell asleep at Pack Whitlock's house last night. Then when I woke up—the, ahem, second time—and realized she was gone, I checked my phone, and there was a text apologizing, saying she had something come up and had to leave unexpectedly. Brooklyn dropped me off at my apartment this morning, after stopping to get us each a coffee and scone. She'd kissed me again before dropping me off, and something loosened in my chest that I didn't realize had even wounded up so tight. I think I imagined she would pretend nothing happened the night before, that she was just appeasing my omega during a preheat wave, and when the sun came up, we'd only be friends again. But the opposite was true. She was overly affectionate all morning, touching me every chance she got, kissing my neck as she passed, and purring happily the whole time with a huge, goofy smile on her face.
The rest of the pack had grumbled at her infectious mood, and I'd blushed furiously when I realized our combined scents were still drenching the living room, giving away exactly what we'd been up to the night before. I pointedly ignored Maverick's piercing stare and Hudson's teasing, waggling eyebrows. Mason was smiling indulgently at me, but I found that just as hard to bear at the other two for some reason. Luckily, Brooklyn had ushered me out the door soon after so I would have time to shower and eat before work.
I spent a little extra time showering this morning, shaving everywhere, and then styling my hair in loose, effortless-looking waves in preparation for our date. I know we're just supposed to be picking out tiles and flooring for his latest project, but I have this insatiable urge to please him, to get his approval.
The front door opens, and my heart skips a beat, but it's not Maverick that walks in. It's a group of men that head straight for a booth in the corner of the room.
Stupid, Summer.It's not even four yet.
I start closing out my drawer, trying to focus on anything but every person that walks through the door. It must work because a few minutes later, a deep voice gets my attention from behind me and makes me jump a little.
"Your carriage has arrived, my queen." But the scent that comes with the voice does not belong to Maverick. Summer rain and freshly mowed grass drift over to me and soothe away the nerves instantly, calming me better than any drug ever could. The tension from my shoulders unwinds, and I turn to face Mason. His blond hair is tucked into a messy bun on the top of his head that looks wild, yet somehow perfectly styled at the same time. He's got on a pair of sunglasses, a white v-neck t-shirt, and white washed jeans. My mouth waters at the sight. He takes off his sunglasses and hazel eyes twinkle mischievously at me as he bows a little, offering his arm for me to take like he's actually about to escort me to my very own pumpkin carriage waiting outside.
A chuckle slips out of me, but my brows furrow. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but I could have sworn I was going out with Maverick today," I say to him, half questioning.
"Ah yes, about that. I have a scroll for muh-lady," he continues that charade and pulls out a piece of folded paper. I take it from him, and it's a note from Maverick saying something came up and apologizing profusely.
"Why didn't he just text me?" I ask, mirth in my voice. I'm not as disappointed as I would be if he'd just called to cancel. But since Mason is here in his place, I'm still riding a giddy wave of excitement. Would I love to go out with Maverick too? Absolutely. But one is better than none. I'm tired of being alone.
"I have no idea. Just Mav being silly, I guess. There's a first time for everything," he teases, and I laugh at his playfulness.
I untie my apron from my waist and hang it up when I see my replacement walk in. I wave at Emery as I walk around the counter to Mason's side. "So he sent you to take me out instead? You poor guy," I say, faux commiseration in my voice.
"Sent me? I wrestled the big lug into submission. He's currently tied to a chair at the pack house, cursing his luck. I'm hijacking his date." Mason flexes a little at his explanation.
I bark out a deep, belly laugh. "So what are we doing then?"
Mason smiles at me and shakes his head. "You up for a little drive?"
* * *
A little drive,ended up being just over two hours. It went faster than I would have thought though. Mason is excellent company. He handed me his phone as soon as we got in the car, and I scrolled through his music selection, playing what he had. He belted out every lyric to every song on his playlist. So then I spent the rest of the ride trying to find a song he didn't know. I even opened up his internet and searched for obscure songs from decades ago from bands I've never heard of. Still, he always knew at least the chorus to each of them. It amazed the heck out of me. I'm not very musically inclined, always choosing books over listening to music; but I picked up a few new favorite songs on the drive that I know I'll be playing at top volume while I shower for the next few weeks.
In between songs, we talked about everything but absolutely nothing. It was all surface level conversation, favorite colors and animals. How our day has been. Not that I minded. It made me laugh all the same.Masonmade me laugh. He's got the most vibrant, enigmatic energy of anyone I've ever met. Being with him is so easy I almost don’t want to get out of the car when we finally make it to where we're going. The sun is on its way to setting for the evening, giving us probably an hour of daylight here.
Here being the Anderson Japanese Gardens, I gather by the sign we pass before Mason finds a parking spot and shuts off the car. "Ready, my queen?" he teases, continuing with his charade.
"Are you going to tell me what we're doing here first?" I narrow my eyes at him, making him husk out a laugh. Deep and throaty that sends tingles through me.
"Impatient little thing." He jumps out of the car without answering me. I hear the trunk open, there's a rustling as he pulls something out, and he closes it again before jogging around to open my door for me.
"My lady." He bows a little and extends his hand to me. Goofy grin firmly in place, I take his hand and let him pull me out. It's then that I notice the black camera case he has hanging from a strap on his shoulder.
My eyes shoot up. "You're a photographer?" I ask. It's a large bag so the camera inside must be huge. And expensive, I think.
