Only the Truth Pt. 01

I looked up at Mason, expecting to see resigned amusement in his expression, maybe a silent promise to pick up where we'd left off later in the night. Instead, his attention shifted to Claire, and his jaw clenched.

He looked pissed.

The two of them had known each other so long they'd grown as close as siblings. I'd witnessed some spectacular arguments between them over the years, sometimes to the point where I'd back out of the room and silently hope it wouldn't be the one that finally pushed him from our lives forever--but it never took long for them to make up afterwards.

This, though. I hadn't seen this kind of silent, simmering tension.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, glancing from Mason to Claire.

Claire flashed me a taut smile. "Nope. All good. I just wanted to spend some time with my little sister. Isn't she cute tonight, Mason? She looks so grown up in her dress and make-up." She palmed my hair like she was humoring a clueless six-year-old who'd rifled through her mother's closet, not a twenty-one-year-old woman.

My eyes narrowed as I took her in. Claire had never patronized or belittled me before. She'd always been my biggest and loudest supporter. Something about the way she spoke made my stomach churn, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

"Hmm. That's our Sadie," Mason drawled. "Cute as a fucking button."

Any other time a comment like that would have made me laugh. This time, the hostility in the air confused me. Neither of them voiced their concerns, but it was as if a torrent of words were passing between them.

After several tense seconds Claire put a hand on her hip and gave him her signature raised brow, but when even that failed to get him to back down, she huffed and grabbed my arm again. "C'mon, Sadie."

"No." I shook myself free and looked up at Mason, hoping I'd find a clue in his expression that might tell me what was happening here. His snort of amusement and the pride in his eyes didn't bring me any closer to understanding Claire's mood.

"I'm going to get a drink," I told them, eager to move to safer ground, maybe try my hand at having fun since this was supposed to be a party. "I'll let the two of you carry on with whatever it is you're doing here. I want no part of it."

Little did I know it wouldn't end up being a choice that I'd get to make.

~ * ~

An hour later, I'd seen far too many women throw themselves at Mason while he smiled half-heartedly and did his best to fend them off. It happened so often it was as if they'd been sent to him, on a mission to shower him with attention and distract him from me--or maybe that was just my overactive imagination.

Each time a new admirer headed his way, his eyes sought out mine across the room, and a look of such genuine longing came over him that I almost caved and went to rescue him. I'd kept my distance after Claire interrupted our dance, though, and refused to walk into another situation like the one I'd encountered earlier. 

Now, a brunette girl named Rachael--I'd met her months ago when I stopped by the law office where Claire worked--had her back pressed to Mason's front, her ass rubbing his crotch with so much enthusiasm she'd end up pregnant if someone didn't step in soon. 

No matter how much I wanted to be that person, I didn't have the energy to deal with this tonight. 

With a sigh, I downed the vodka-soda I'd been nursing for long enough it had gone warm, then slid the empty glass on the dining table. There was only so much one person could stand, and I'd already seen enough of Mason being mauled. 

After a final look in his direction, I turned and headed for the hallway. 

The guest bedroom had been beckoning me, and I couldn't wait to get settled under the covers and put this whole stupid, frustrating, most-exciting-night-of-my-life behind me. I didn't expect to be doing a lot of sleeping after everything that had happened. I just wanted to spend some time alone with my thoughts, away from a party where I'd increasingly begun to feel like I didn't belong.

When I reached the doorway, my feet had other ideas. 

Instead of stopping, I continued to the last room on the left and crossed the threshold, ignoring the internal voice yelling at me to turn and run. Coming in here would change everything, but my curiosity had taken on a life of its own, and I needed to poke around until I found some answers. 

I slipped off my shoes beside the nightstand and blew the hair from my eyes. My heart thumped like mad at first, but as I took in the cluttered desk, rumpled sheets and the glow coming from the bedside lamp, seeing Mason everywhere helped me relax. 

He'd been a sports photographer for years now, and his framed work decorated the main expanse of wall. Dirt bikes floating mid-air, race cars drifting past cheering crowds, a group abseiling down a vertigo-inspiring cliff face. So much talent for a man who pretended to be such a goof. 

A series of scrawled notes were thumb-tacked to a corkboard above his desk, and a lone photo peeked out from the center of it all. I knew it featured Claire, Andy, Mason and me. I had the same picture wedged into the frame of my dressing table mirror at home--but on Mason's corkboard, the notes scattered around it blocked everything from view except the two of us. 

Funny how something so simple could feel so big.   

I heard a movement behind me and turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb, his blue eyes locked on me. The corner of his mouth lifted, and I smiled back, taking in the features that made up the man I'd wanted for so long. Music thumped in the main part of the house, and the yellow light from the hallway poured in around him. He looked so dark and gorgeous, it took all my strength to stand still. 

His gaze flicked from the bed to my bare feet, then cruised over my body in a way that left me feeling like I'd just been touched. "Sadie Addison, what are you doing in my room?" 

My stomach fluttered despite the humor in his tone. "Trying to lure you away from your horde of admirers." 

"Brave move with your sister on guard out there."

I waited, hoping he'd go on to explain why he'd let those women climb all over him right there in front of me. Not just tonight, but for months now. Years, even. All he had to do was walk away from them and toward me. Such a simple solution, yet one look from Claire seemed to be enough to stop him in his tracks. 

And then it registered that although he'd shared his feelings with me, my sister had interrupted our chat before I could do the same for him. As far as Mason was concerned, the attraction was all one-sided, which meant he didn't need to worry about his behavior hurting me. 

He and Claire had unknowingly given me the freedom to pretend I didn't care and keep admiring him from a distance. If I did, we could all go back to a slightly different version of how things had been before tonight. The smartest option, really, if I wanted to put a stop to all this awful pounding in my chest--but I couldn't make myself go down that path. "I had to risk it. I didn't like seeing those girls all over you."

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his brows. "Why?"

"You know why." I gave him a look, intending to avoid verbalizing my emotions. My bravery had its limits, and he had to be able to feel this invisible pull between us. 

The ghost of a smile appeared, and his gaze turned tender as he looked me over. "Say it anyway."

I blew out an annoyed breath, which only seemed to amuse him. The butterflies in my stomach had officially reached plague proportions now. "Seeing you like that--with them--it made me jealous. And it hurt me... because I like you."

Mason didn't make a move toward me, and I appreciated his restraint. If he'd come any closer, his nearness would have turned me into a babbling idiot. "Do you think I was doing it to upset you?" 

I shook my head. He didn't have it in him to use people for his own entertainment. "No... I think you were allowing it so you wouldn't upset them." 

He gazed at me for long seconds, his expression filled with affection. "But it still bothered you."

I pressed my lips together and nodded. "I wanted to drag that last one off you by her hair."

An amused breath left him. He took another step inside the room, then reached behind him to close and lock the door. I tried not to get too excited about his need for privacy and what that might mean. 

"Are you trying to keep me in or Claire out?" I asked.

He smiled as he walked toward me. "Can't it be both?"

The sight of his smooth, masculine grace had me pulling in a breath, and the quiet that descended now the door was closed didn't help either. Instead of being soothing like it often was for me, it allowed me to focus on the roar of blood in my ears and the pulsing between my thighs. 

Mason stopped before me then, and his presence... it just filled the room. I tilted my head to stare up at him, my breaths coming faster now that we were within touching distance. 

He took in the rise and fall of my chest, the way my body swayed toward him of its own accord. His mouth quirked, but I didn't get the feeling he was laughing at me. "No interruptions this time around," he said. 

He didn't even attempt to touch me and that somehow made the anticipation worse. I rolled my shoulders to loosen up and reminded myself I'd known him my entire life. "No, not this time."

He smiled and combed his fingers through the hair at my temple, sweeping it back from my face. A shiver rushed over me, and my body came alive with sensations. Too many emotions rolled through me at once, along with unanswered questions about the tension between him and Claire. I closed my eyes and turned my cheek into his palm, pushing them away for later.

"You're the only one I care about," he said, as if he thought I needed further reassurance.

I did, and I didn't. 

While the other girls were trying to get his attention, he'd been sending me a clear message from across the room. He wanted me to cut in and claim him as my own, to show everyone he was off limits. This change in our relationship had taken me by surprise though, and I needed time to adjust.

My eyes opened, and I looked up at him, wondering how long he'd felt this way about me, and how something that seemed like such happy news could make my sister so angry.  "You didn't answer me earlier. When did this start--and why me? You could take your pick when it comes to women."

And if I let myself believe the gossip, that's exactly what he had done. 

He glanced over the top of my head before meeting my eyes again, appearing equal parts frustrated and disappointed. "Sadie, what people say about me is bullshit. Most of it, anyway. You know that don't you?"

So, which parts were true?

I thought about his crazy dance moves, how the exclusion zone around him meant only the aggressive girls could get through, and how he'd always played the clown, so no one would ever make the mistake of taking him too seriously. His methods were so subtle they'd gone right over my head. For someone who paid so much attention to the guy, I couldn't believe I'd missed the signs. 

My gaze lowered to the smooth, tanned column of his throat, and I imagined how warm his skin would feel beneath my lips. "When people started talking a few years ago," I asked, lifting my eyes to find him watching me, "did you like the attention? It must have been fun having women throw themselves at you." 

Mason stepped around me, and I wanted to reach for his hand and pull him close again. When I turned around, he was taking a seat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "I won't lie. Whoever kicked them off created a nice distraction from something else I had going on at the time," he said, "but now..." He stared at his hands and rubbed an invisible spot on the back of his thumb. "I'm getting tired of being polite to women who only want to grab my dick or proposition me."

My mind filled with images just like the ones I'd seen tonight. Girls who ignored his personal space and did whatever they wanted without stopping to question if they were stepping over the line. He'd been left to fend for himself, a man who only ever treated people with respect, who cared more about others' feelings than his own. "You need a girlfriend to protect you and tell them all to back off." 

He looked up at me then, his blue eyes serious. "Are you volunteering for the job?"  

My stomach lurched. "Are you offering a position?"

Instead of giving me the answer I craved, Mason snagged my wrist and drew me between his thighs. He wrapped his arms around me, and when his cheek came to rest against my breasts, a sigh rolled through him. "Everything's better when you're around," he said, squeezing me.

My cheeks overheated, and I struggled to keep my composure. I stroked my fingers through his hair, wondering if he could feel how fast my heart was racing. I'd spent so many years pining for him that my brain and body still hadn't caught up to this new reality. 

Mason pulled back and lifted his head, keeping his arms around me so I couldn't go too far. I smiled as I took in his features, trailing my fingertips over his forehead, his dark brows, the stubble on his jaw. It floored me that I could do this now, and I no longer had to be conscious of how much I gave away with each look or touch. 

The urge to explore every inch of him slowly gained strength, and the way he sat there with that faintly amused look on his face only made it worse. My gaze dropped to his mouth, and I touched his lower lip with my thumb. Would our first kiss have any chance of competing with my countless daydreams? Even if it came a close second, I'd be a happy girl.

My hands slid into his hair, and I leaned in until my mouth rested beside his. His stubble scraped my cheek and the fading scent of his cologne clung to his skin. His arms tightened around me, and he surprised me by pulling in a breath as if he needed to calm himself. 

"Sadie."

I wasn't sure if he'd murmured my name as a plea or a warning. Either way, I had no interest in playing games with him and drawing out the torture. When my lips brushed across his, a sigh moved through me, and I felt him smile against my cheek.

He lowered one hand to my hip and the other slid up my spine to sink beneath my hair. A tremor took hold of me, and I let out a laughing breath, resigned to the fact that every one of his touches would probably have me reacting in some way tonight. 

"Sorry," I said, kissing the space beside his mouth. "I'm nervous." 

He gave the back of my neck a squeeze. "Don't be nervous. It's just me."

The man who could stun me with a look, whose touch sent my senses into a tailspin? The man I'd been in love with for the past three years? Sure, nothing to be nervous about. "I can't help it. This is kind of intimidating," I said, combing my fingers through his hair. "You have experience, and I have... let's just say nowhere near as much as you."

We were pressed so close together that I felt the ripple of surprise move through him. He pulled back and looked at me. "How much experience are we talking about here?" 

Going by the wariness in his voice, he already knew, or at least suspected where this was heading. I would have preferred to be talking about anything else, or nothing at all, but I needed him to know what he was getting into before we started.

I wanted him to be my first, and in a perfect world he'd be my last, but that wasn't the kind of news you shared with someone after you'd just crossed the line from friendship to something more complicated. And to be clear, I didn't care about my lack of experience. I just wanted to make sure it didn't bother him. He was seven years older than me and spent time with women who knew what they were doing. How to challenge him, how to turn him on. Maybe I wouldn't be exciting enough for him. 

His gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth then back again. "Are you a virgin?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"And you think... what? I'll be turned off by that?" 

"I don't know." But I did. He'd just voiced my fears as if he'd been able to read my mind. My gaze shifted to the photographs on the wall as his thumb moved over my hip in slow, deliberate strokes. 

I could feel him watching me, patiently taking everything in before he spoke again. He waited for me to look at him, and when I did his eyes were filled with affection. "Why in the hell would you ever think I'd be turned off by that?"

"Because I don't know what I'm doing! Because you've been with experienced women."

"You don't need to know what you're doing to respond to touch." His fingertips trailed up the side of my body, and when I shuddered and pressed closer to him, he smiled. "Or to know what feels good--and all we're doing is talking. Maybe kissing. Hopefully a lot. I've got no intention of trying to get you out of that dress tonight."

He'd always had a talent for saying the right thing at just the right time. Relief rushed through me, and I suddenly felt so much lighter. My gaze dropped to his mouth, and I let my shoulders relax for the first time since he'd walked in here. 

I'd made out with my share of boys, but whenever it came time to take the next step, something had always held me back. I hadn't specifically been waiting for Mason to open his eyes and see me, but there'd been an element missing with others that I knew wouldn't be lacking with him.

I had a feeling kissing him would be something spectacular, too. 

Before I could come up with reasons to get anxious again, I closed my eyes and pressed my mouth to his, finding his lips warm and soft, and oh, so welcoming. 

Mason sighed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. His mouth traveled over mine, his lips thrilling me with long, searching kisses. He went slowly with me, building the desire, making me want more and more. The casual pace went on for so long that when his tongue finally swept over mine, it took me by surprise, and I gripped his hair.

It must have been the sign he was waiting for, because the kiss exploded then, no longer sweet or restrained. It wouldn't be one of those moments I looked back on with a smile or a sigh. He took control of my body like he wanted to brand me, to make me understand I belonged to him and no one else. It was more than I'd ever hoped for and everything I'd been missing. 

His tongue warred with mine, his mouth hard and demanding. One of his hands supported my waist while the other cradled my throat. He overloaded my senses. His nearness, his strength, the feel of his mouth. For a split second, I wondered if I'd taken on way more than I could handle--but then his grip gentled again, and his thumb caressed my neck. 

It was as if he wanted to show me that no matter how far I pushed him, he'd never lose control.

Mason tilted my head and softened the kiss. His mouth slowed to a more relaxed pace, his lips almost massaging mine. The scrape of his five o'clock shadow pulled a sigh from me, and I melted against him. I would have done anything he asked of me at that moment. Anything. Seeing him slip so effortlessly from passionate back to slow and easy filled me with pleasure.

A loud thump on the door interrupted the moment. I jerked back from Mason like I'd been slapped, my mind spinning with all the sensations bombarding me.

"Mase, you got Sadie in there?" Andy called out, giving the handle a rattle. "The door's locked so the answer better be no."

My eyes went wide, and I touched my fingers to my mouth while I tried to recover. Holy crap. That kiss had been phenomenal. I barely had time to catch my breath let alone say anything. Mason gave my lips a long look, his eyes filled with humor and need. "Yeah, I'm doing her right now. Can you give us a minute?"