When I'm Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(46)

I just stared up at him. I didn’t know what to say to that. I had seen the fury on Nan’s face. I wasn’t so sure she would agree to this. When Mase left, the cops were likely to show up and arrest me. That money I gave her was my proof that I intended to pay her back.

“I need her to have that money, Mase.”

He shook his head. “It’s handled. She won’t bother you again.”

When he was gone, she would. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can protect you from my sister. And f*ck yes, I can protect you from everything. Send that shit my way. I’ll take it out.” He was smiling, but I could see the seriousness in his eyes.

“Mase,” I started, but he put his finger over my lips.

“I got this. I handled it. She’s afraid of a lawsuit from you. You were hurt at her house on the job, then fired over it. She will not contact you again. Hell, she probably won’t breathe the same air you do for a while. I was very thorough in my descriptions of what I would do if she f*cked with you any more.”

“I wouldn’t sue her because I fell and broke a mirror.”

“She doesn’t know that, baby. And that’s all that matters.” He rolled off me and got up. I was blessed with a view of his butt in those white briefs. God bless America and Mase Manning’s ass.

“You gonna get that sweet tail up and make me some waffles? Because, baby, if you keep looking at me like I’m the meal, I may be tempted to crawl back into that bed and see exactly what you had in mind.”

I would love for him to crawl back into bed and do things with me. To me. But I didn’t want to have to ask him to do stuff. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that. I knew why he wanted me to, but still . . . the idea was so embarrassing.

How did one ask a man to touch her vagina?

Cringing at that thought, I stood up and flashed a smile at him. “I’m going to make you some waffles. Put on your jeans so I’m not distracted.”

Mase laughed as I hurried to the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth.

Then I went and made my guy some breakfast, while he stood on the other side of the bar and watched me.

Mase

If she bent over one more time and flashed that freckle at me, I was going to lose my mind. I had eaten my waffles and made it through her stirring the batter with no bra on under that tank top. That had been one hell of a pretty sight. But now she was cleaning up the kitchen, and she kept bending over.

I had offered to clean up, but she had pushed me out of the tiny corner and said she’d do it faster since she knew where everything was. So now I was being given a view of her ass and that freckle. My freckle.

I loved that freckle.

Shit, I was horny. She had me so wound up, and I was trying so hard to be good. But I knew how that ass felt in my hands and those sweet nipples tightened under my tongue.

Groaning, I turned away from the prettiest sight I’d ever seen and walked over to sit on the sofa.

I sank down and had to adjust my damn dick. My jeans were suddenly too tight, and the zipper was going to leave a mark on it if I didn’t get myself under control. I needed to think about something other than Reese’s body.

First boner killer I could think of: my mother. She would want to know where I’d gone. I needed to call her and explain. I had only called my stepdad. I hadn’t explained myself to her. Which meant she was going to ask me a lot of questions. I was ready to tell her about Reese. I wanted to talk about her. My mom was probably the one person who would want to listen to me talk about her.

“You OK?” Reese’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I turned to see her walking my way. Those long legs and . . . f*ck, those tits were jiggling. She needed a bra. I needed her to wear a bra. The boner I’d deflated was back with a vengeance. Fuck me.

“I’m good,” I assured her, and she came and sank down beside me, pulling her legs back and curling into my side. Soft flesh pressed against me, and I was throbbing. The cinnamon sweet smell met my nose, and I stretched out my legs in hopes of giving myself some more room in these jeans.

“You don’t look good. You’re grimacing,” she said, reaching up and cupping my face. So damn sweet.

“I’m trying to be good, baby. But looking at you makes it hard,” I admitted.

“Oh,” she said softly. Almost a whisper. Then her eyes dropped to my lap, and she sucked in a breath.

There was no hiding the fact I was hard as a rock. I hadn’t dealt with this kind of shit since high school. I didn’t get boners anymore unless I was about to get some. One look at Reese, though, and my cock stood at attention.

“It looks like it’s tight in there,” she said, still whispering as if someone other than me could hear her.

“It is.”

She took another quick breath, then reached down to touch my leg. I was real close to begging her to touch me. My brain was losing blood by the second, and it was all headed south. “Will you take it out and let me . . . I mean, can I touch it?”

Hell, yes!

My hands shot to my fly and got it undone in record time, then I tugged my jeans down my hips enough so that my cock sprang free. She was watching me so intently I swear I was about to explode from her just looking at it.

Her fingertips slowly traced the hard ridge through my briefs. I hadn’t pulled those down. I wasn’t sure she was ready to actually see it.