Sassy Little Thing

I blink. “Yeah. How do you know his name?”

  Maverick grunts, and Malakai shakes his head. “We’ve been delvin’ a bit into the drug world lately, you could say, and that name did happen to pop up a few times on our search for someone else. You do realize your boyfriend is a big-time dealer, yeah?”

  I blink. “I knew he was into drugs, I even knew he was selling them, but I figured it was just to friends, people like that. I knew enough to get him locked up for six months, but I didn’t realize he was into big-time dealing.”

  This is news to me.

  Big news.

  Huge news.

  If Enzo is dealing to that degree, how come he never got longer? Or did the police simply not find out that much? I guess if no one talked, they wouldn’t. I only got him for possession; I knew he had it on him, and I knew where. But dealing. That’s a whole different kettle of fish.

  “Yeah,” Koda mutters, looking agitated. “He’s dealin’ all right. Heard his name all over the fuckin’ streets. Dodgy motherfucker, stealin’ and lyin’. He’s got dangerous people after him.”

  God.

  I rub my arms. “H-h-h-how dangerous?”

  “Dangerous enough,” Malakai informs. “This man here—” he shoves a finger in the direction of the beaten man “—is probably the least of his, and your, problems.”

  “B-b-but he told me he only owed a little bit of money and was content with me paying it off once he got out.”

  “He isn’t goin’ to say no to gettin’ one person of his back, Saskia,” Mason mutters. “That’s common sense. Doesn’t mean he don’t have other fish to fry also. Probably would have used you for that, too. My guess, though, is he’ll probably do a runner. He’s locked up, people think he gave information away, forget the debts, he’ll get a bullet to the brain just for that alone.”

  A bullet to the brain?

  I feel unwell.

  Scarlett stands next to me—she’s the only girl here with the men tonight, but I’m thankful. This is a lot to take in, and I don’t honestly know where I’m supposed to go from here. Am I in danger? Or did Enzo just send this man over to scare me into paying him money again? Either way, it doesn’t feel good. Scarlett takes my hand and squeezes it.

  “We’ll get more info out of this fucker,” Koda says, jabbing the man in the ribs so hard he winces. “Until then, keep the doors locked when you’re here, and be careful when you’re out and about. Enzo is pissed at you, he might name drop just from that alone.”

  “We’ll have someone watch the place, too,” Malakai says. “When Mason isn’t here.”

  “So, I’m like a prisoner now?” I murmur.

  “Better than bein’ dead, ain’t it?” Mason grunts.

  “Fuck off, Mason,” I snap.

  His eyes get wide, and even I’m surprised by my words. His comment pissed me off, only I’m not sure why. Maybe because I’m scared, or maybe because he made me feel stupid. Either way, I didn’t mean for those words to come out quite so ... harshly.

  “Watch it,” he growls.

  “Enough,” Malakai says. “Long night. Everyone needs to wind down. We’ll take this fucker back to the club. Mason, you stay here with Saskia in case anyone comes back.”

  “You want me to stay?” Scarlett asks.

  “No, I’m okay, thanks, though.” I smile at her.

  She nods and lets me go, joining Maverick.

  “Mason,” Malakai says, and Mason looks to him.

  “What?”

  “Be nice to her, yeah?”

  Mason grunts. I roll my eyes.

  And then they lift the bloodied man and leave, and I’m suddenly very alone with Mason and not sure what to do. I glance at his hand, he’s got a towel wrapped loosely around it.

  “You got a first-aid kit?” I ask him.

  “It’s fine.”

  “For the love of God, Mason. Do not fuck with me right now. Where in the ever-loving hell is your first-aid kit?”

  He stares at me, then growls, “Under the sink.”

  I move into the kitchen and go under the sink, digging around until I find it, then I join Mason who is now sitting at the massive dining table. I sit right in front of him, open the kit, and reach out for his hand. He lets me take it, grudgingly, and I remove the towel. It’s a deep cut, not quite enough for stitches thank goodness, but deep enough that it was close.

  “You’re lucky, this is pretty deep,” I say.

  “Had worse.”

  “I’m sure you have,” I mumble.

  I start cleaning his hand with an alcohol swab, removing the dried blood. He says nothing for a few moments, and not once does he flinch. Eventually, though, he says in a low, gravelly tone, “You told him you weren’t paying the money.”

  I nod, keeping his hand in mine and keeping focus on it.

  “How’d that go down?”

  “Well, from tonight, you can see it didn’t go down well. He did tell me that I’d pay for doing it, I just didn’t think he’d actually send someone around here.”

  “You should have told me he threatened you.”

  I glance up at him. “Why?”

  He stares at me, face hard. “Because I could have made sure you were safe.”

  Oh.

  Right.

  I say nothing, I just keep cleaning his hand, and then I cover it with a bandage and stand, putting the first-aid kit away.

  “I’m going to have a shower and go to bed. Tonight, it’s safe to say, sucked a big fat dick.”

  Mason snorts, and I glance at him.

  “Thanks,” I say, my voice genuine. “For what you did tonight.”

  He nods.

  And then I leave the room and go to mine.

  Feeling drained.

  A little scared.

  And a lot confused.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  I can’t sleep.

  I can’t even get comfortable.

  I had a long hot shower then laid down. Within ten minutes, I couldn’t handle lying for a single second more, my mind overtook everything and sent me over the edge. So now, for some strange reason, I find myself walking toward Mason’s room. I’m not sure why. I guess, part of me wants to know more. More about what they’re going to do. More about how deep Enzo was in with drugs. More about everything.

  I have no idea if he’ll be asleep yet, or if he’s awake and I’m going to annoy the ever-loving shit out of him coming in here.

  Either way, I’m still doing it.

  I reach his door and knock a few times, but I don’t hear anything inside. I turn the door handle and crack it open carefully, peering in. He isn’t in his bed, but the television is on and the sheets are back, which means he’s obviously getting ready to be in his bed. I step in, leaving the door open, and call out softly but hear nothing. I walk in farther and glance at the bathroom just as the door opens and Mason steps out.

  I halt. Unable to move. Unable to breathe.

  I just stand there, completely frozen in spot.

  He’s naked. Blissfully, gloriously, naked.

  Every inch of his hard body is glistening from his shower, his long hair is unbraided and loose around his shoulders, water droplets coming off the ends and rolling down his chest. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, and good lord, I can’t look away. I don’t want to look away. I want to lunge at him, every inch of my body is screaming at me to attack, in the best possible way, of course.

  My knees shake, and I whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were ... uh ...”

  Why haven’t I run out of this room yet?

  Why am I still standing here?

  Why am I hoping he’ll stride over and ...

  Good lord.

  He’s striding over.

  Like a lion on a hunt. His eyes are intense. So fucking intense I can’t breathe for a few torturous seconds as he stalks toward me. On a mission.

  “Ma—” I begin, but he reaches me, leans down, curls both hands around my ass, and launches me up
and into his arms.

  I don’t protest.

  I don’t even want to try.

  My mouth finds his and I kiss him; I kiss him so hard my lips burn, but it’s the best feeling in the whole world. It feels incredible, so fucking good. He kisses me back, lips warm from the shower, body hard and wet. I reach for that thick, long hair, and tangle my fingers through it, tugging, bringing his lips closer even though they’re already smashed against mine.

  More.

  I need more.

  He walks to the bed and drops me down, and I bounce just a little before his hands go to my panties and he grabs hold of them. “What the fuck did I say about walkin’ about my house in these?”

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

  “I said I’d fuck you. And now, I’m goin’ to fuck you.”

  The panties disappear quickly, sliding off my body with little to no effort. And then his big body is looming over mine, going for my cotton tank and jerking it up and over my head, leaving me as naked as him and equally as aroused.

  “Fuck,” he growls. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

  God damn.

  My pussy just became team Mason.

  His mouth drops to my neck, and he starts kissing and licking, slowly moving down over my flesh, making me quiver with every second that passes. Down over my collar bone he moves, over my chest, until he reaches my breasts. His mouth curls around my nipple, and I gasp, arching up, causing his big hands to find my hips and pin me back down. He’s so dominant, so strong, so fucking powerful. There is no control when it comes to Mason.

  He makes the rules.

  He licks and sucks until I’m gasping and my breath hitches. I try to thrust up into him, but he isn’t allowing me any access. He’s taking what he wants, and only what he wants. He releases a hand from my hip and slides it between my thighs, finding me soaked and ready. With a growl against my nipple, he slips a finger inside me and starts rotating it around, in small circles at first, and then putting a little more pressure on. He’s not thrusting his finger, not fucking me with it, but instead rubbing that bundle of nerves inside me.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I moan his name and arch up, needing him, feeling far too many things at once.

  His finger keeps swirling, and his mouth keeps licking, and just before I’m about to cum from the pleasure, he stops all of it. A pained whimper leaves my throat as he slides his finger from my pussy, and brings it up to my mouth, slipping it between my lips.

  “When you cum, it’s around my cock. Understand?”

  I nod, sucking his finger, making a deep throaty moan slide up and out of his mouth.

  “You protected?” he asks me, slipping the finger from my lips.

  I lick them, and nod.

  “You clean?”

  I nod again, then whisper, “Are you?”

  He nods, and my eyes flash.

  “I’m goin’ to fuck you now, but know this, Saskia, it’s the first of many fuckin’ times. What I want, I get. And right now, I want you.”

  Oh, boy.

  “Get on your hands and knees.”

  So demanding. So dominant. I can’t breathe.

  I push up and turn onto my hands and knees. This, by far, has to be one of my favorite positions. I feel everything, all of it, deep inside me. And with Mason, I know I’ll feel it right where I need to feel it. Deep. Hard. Ecstasy.

  His hand slides over my ass, curving around the shape of it, before squeezing softly. And then he’s behind me, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to push my chest down onto the bed. Oh, lord. Yes. His hand glides down my spine and he uses the other hand to position his cock at my entrance and, with one, hard stroke, he’s inside me. I whimper as my body, yet again, stretches around him.

  It feels incredible.

  “Mason,” I whimper.

  He pulls back and slams back in, causing his name to come out garbled as it mixes with a moan. He starts fucking me hard, slamming his hips into mine, his balls slapping my clit, his body, powerful and strong, pushing mine further and further up the bed. His hands are on my ass, and good lord, I can’t think straight. I’m going to cum so hard people three blocks down will hear me screaming his name.

  And just as I’m about to, he stops, slowing the pace so he’s merely dragging his cock in and out of my pussy, taking it right out and sliding it back in. Carefully. Slowly. Tormenting me in the worst possible way.

  Because it feels incredible.

  And I need him to fuck me hard.

  “Mason,” I whimper, clutching the sheets. “Please.”

  “When I’m ready,” he growls, his voice raspy from pleasure.

  Fuck, I want to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life.

  “Please,” I beg again.

  He just keeps dragging his cock in and out, slowly, like he has all day and not a care in the world. The thick length glides into my body, and then out, and then back in again. His hands stroke over my ass, down the cheeks, up my spine, smoothing over my skin in a gentle caress.

  “Please,” I gasp, trying to push back on him.

  “When. I’m. Ready.”

  I make a pained sound in my throat, and then he slams his cock into me, knocking all thoughts from my mind.

  And then he’s fucking me again.

  Hard, just like he was before.

  The orgasm that tears through me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s so powerful my screams become ragged and raspy. I clutch the sheets and his name leaves my lips over and over as the most incredible sensation grips my body, taking me to another place, leaving me completely breathless.

  And then he’s fucking me so hard the bed is creaking, and he’s growling something low under his breath, and then he’s coming inside me. I can feel every pulse of his cock, and the sounds that leave his throat make me tighten around him. Those sounds, knowing I created them.

  Pure bliss.

  ~12~

  MASON

  “Mason?” she asks, lying beside me, both of us just having caught our breath from what was, without a fucking doubt, the best sex I’ve had in a long time.

  I actually felt it. Deeper than just a release. Deeper than just a one-night stand. I felt it. I fucking felt her. Not sure how I feel about that. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any sort of connection with a woman, and none quite like this. The situation is fucking messed up, and I know better than to get involved. She’s not even over her fuck head boyfriend.

  But fucked if I don’t want to stay right here next to her and keep her safe.

  Protection.

  Fierce.

  So fucking fierce.

  “Yeah?” I murmur, and I can still smell the sex lingering in the room.

  “What happened to your mom?”

  I go stiff, as I always do when someone mentions her. I’ve not told anyone about my mom. Not fucking ever. Not even the people in the club. So why the fuck I choose to start telling the girl next to me, who I barely know, is beyond me.

  But I do.

  “She killed herself.”

  She makes a little gasping sound, and for a moment, the room is dead fucking silent.

  “Why?” she whispers.

  “She was mentally unwell. Hallucinations. Night terrors. She got sick after my dad passed, and she had a scare one night. Somethin’ went wrong in her brain, ten different doctors, not one of them could tell me what it was. Some said it was her own doin’, others said it could be a condition. Got her help. Did fuck all. One day I went out, tryin’ to find work, and when I came home, she was dead. Took a whole bottle of pills while her nurse was downstairs makin’ dinner. Nurse thought she was asleep, so didn’t bother her.”

  “Mason,” Saskia whispers, “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine how that must have felt for you.”

  Like a hole was burned into my fucking heart, and I’ve never been able to fill it again.

  That’s ho
w it felt.

  Like hell had opened its doors and sucked me in.

  I’ll never forget finding my mother like that.

  Fucking never. Not for as long as I live.

  “She’s asleep,” Georgiana says, finishing up the last touches to the spaghetti she has made for dinner. Mom’s favorite.

  “How long has she been out?” I ask, putting my keys down. I’ve been unsuccessful yet again at finding a job. Nothing. Nobody wants someone who can’t commit all their time to the job. I can’t promise I’ll always be there. I’ve tried explaining my situation, but nobody cares. They want workers who are a hundred percent commited, and that’s it.

  “Over three hours. She had a nice shower, and I checked on her about two hours ago and she was asleep, I didn’t want to bother her. You know she’s been awake for three nights now. She’ll probably sleep all night; I figured it was best to leave her.”

  I nod. “Good idea, she needs rest. When she gets tired, things get harder for her.”

  “Have you had any luck with the new therapist she’s been talking to?”

  I shake my head. “No, she’s convinced that she’s out to get her. The therapist recommended an institution, but I don’t think I can live with myself if I put her in one of those.”

  She smiles, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, but she may need it. It may be what’s best for her.”

  I nod. “I’m going to go check on her.”

  I turn and walk out. It may be what’s best for her, but my mother was perfectly healthy before my dad died. A strong and vibrant woman. Do I really throw the towel in and have her institutionalized over what? Something that might pass on its own? Something that isn’t even real? Am I being selfish keeping her here? Should I be considering the next best thing?

  I sigh and run my hands through my hair, walking into her bedroom. She’s on her stomach, face down, which immediately rings a bell. I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I walk over and my hand immediately rests on her back. She’s not breathing. Panic unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life grips me and I roll her over. There is vomit coming out of her mouth, staining the pillow, and her skin is a funny color.

  My blood drains out of my face.

  And I reach for her pulse.