Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“What?” I think I say.
Mason comes closer, water rolling down his face, his hair so dark from the water it’s nearly black. “You said you can’t. Can’t…what?”
“I…uh…”
His eyes, they’re roaming over every inch of my face, and I blush harder.
Can he see it?
Does he know my body reacted to his?
That I kind of want to know what it would feel like to be closer, if only out of curiosity.
Or maybe it’s a subconscious need for human contact or comfort.
Or maybe something else entirely…
Shit.
Mason takes another step, and I watch as fresh droplets from the fastest shower known to man slip from his sharp, slightly scruffy jaw onto his pecs. They’re impressive, perfectly cut and gleaming.
My throat grows tight, and when he nods his head toward the bathroom, stepping inside, my feet decide to follow, and we don’t stop until we’re in the room on the other side.
My eyes fly to the plush blankets on the bed, down comforter after down comforter thrown on top. Mason steps around me a moment later, basketball shorts slung low on his hips. Everything burns when I catch the smallest hint of dark hairs peeking out below his navel. And those hip bones, as sharp as a sculpture.
My god, what a perfect prize he would make behind my lens. I could win awards with his flawlessness.
Mason Johnson is…grown. He’s not a teenage boy on the cusp of adulthood. No, he’s all man. Strong and exquisite.
And shirtless and staring at me.
My head yanks down, chin practically digging into my chest.
“Come on.”
Oh god. There’s humor in his tone.
“Ari’s bed can’t be as comfortable as this one.”
“It’s not so bad” comes out before I can stop it, but as I say it, I realize I’m internally searching for an excuse to go back to the room I’ve been sleeping in. I don’t need one, though, do I? Mason asked me to come in here, and I…want to.
So I say nothing else. I climb under the covers, sitting up slightly from all the pillows. A sigh leaves me instantly, my smile wide and turning on Mason.
He chuckles, gazing at me with a gleam in his gaze. “Yeah, Cam’s bed is like this back home and at the dorm, too. She has a pillow topper on her mattress and still sleeps on top of a down comforter while covered in another. Girl’s a brat with a bad night’s sleep.”
Something hot spears my gut, and I flick my frown away before he sees it.
So he’s not only been in Cameron’s bed…but all her beds.
What does that mean exactly?
I did hear she had a crush on him growing up. Did something happen between them?
Is something going on with them now back at Avix?
Oh my god, Payton, why do you care?
“We used to pile in each other’s rooms every weekend, trading off houses each time, for movie nights and pizza. Hers was everyone’s favorite.”
I look over to find him studying me with a hint of a grin on his lips, like he knows what I was thinking, liked it, and that’s why he explained, but that’s weird, right?
Mason shifts, facing me as much as possible, so I make it a little easier on him and turn onto my side. He smiles down at me and laughs lightly.
“What?”
“You look cute like this, all snuggled up and shit.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing and settle farther into the blankets. “I would be so much more comfortable if I didn’t have a tiny human hanging out in my body.”
Mason grins, his eye falling to the large lump of blankets. He stares for a few moments, and then his hand disappears under the comforter. He doesn’t just lay it there, though. He slides it farther down until the hem of my shirt is in his hand and he’s pushing it up, the heat of his hand pressed directly to my taut skin.
A soft current courses through me, his touch like a tame note of electricity. I pull in a shuddering breath.
I can’t see where he’s touching me, the blanket still up to my chin, but his callused fingers leave a trail of warmth everywhere they go. He slides his hand from one side to the next, to the top and back down, pausing when he feels a small protruding point.
His eyes pop up to mine, nothing but the light he forgot to turn off in the bathroom cascading over us. “Does it hurt?” he wonders.
I shake my head. “Getting a little harder to breathe now that I’m so close, and my back hurts as much as my feet, but that’s just what happens at this point, I guess.”
Mason nods, then asks, a little more hesitant this time, “Are you afraid?”
A rush of sadness falls over me, and I look down for a moment, Deaton’s soft curls and infectious smile slipping into my mind. A weight falls on my chest when I realize I haven’t thought of him much this past week. I wasn’t asleep long enough for him to visit me in my dreams, but he will.