Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men #1)(36)

“In my room.” Hugging book one of the series to my chest, I left him eating and dashed into my small sleeping nook. Flipping on the light, I tossed The Sorcerer’s Stone onto my unmade bed and knelt in front of the mini bookshelf set up under my window.

Finding book number two almost immediately, I slid it free and stood. Whirling away to hurry back to Mason, I found him the doorway, still chewing slowly as he watched me.

“Oh!” I yelped and skidded to a halt. “There you are.”

Heat covered my body like a rash. I suddenly felt the presence of my full-size bed only three feet away as if it were a living thing, breathing hot air down the back of my neck to remind me of its existence. I pulled my hair into my hand only to let it go again. But the sensation remained. I think as long as Mason stood in my room, I’d be hyperaware of any available flat surface.

“Do you…I mean…” I swallowed and took a breath. “You can take the entire series now if you’d like. That way you won’t have to wait between each book until I can get the next one to you.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” His gaze was direct and meaningful. “In fact, I like building up the anticipation.”

Whoa. Were we still talking about books?

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

As if completely oblivious to my growing arousal, Mason turned toward my dresser and examined all my personal effects on top. I felt exposed, probably more exposed than if I’d been standing in front of him naked. He smiled softly as he set his half-eaten apple down and picked up my favorite lotion.

Knees turning to jelly as he flipped open the top and took a deep sniff, I could only watch as he glanced at me. “You wore this Friday.”

No way in the world could my vocal chords work. I simply nodded.

He turned the label and read it aloud. “Sweet Pea.” When his grin broadened, I thought I was going to pass out from hormone overdose. “So fitting.”

Slowly, I reached out and slid it from his hand because watching him hold my lotion was doing wicked, evil, wonderful things to me. “I was thinking of getting a bottle for Sarah. Do you think she’d like this fragrance?”

Mason frowned and shook his head. “Don’t you dare. This is your scent. It would be too weird to smell on my little sister.”

After setting the Sweet Pea back on the dresser, I pushed my hair out of my face. “I guess I could get her some cucumber melon then. Or warm vanil—”

He caught my hand when I lifted it to my hair again. “If your hair getting in your face bothers you that much, why don’t you ever tie it back?”

Startled and pleased, I gaped up at him. “You know I never tie my hair back?”

His nostrils flared as he leaned in to smell the Sweet Pea…off my skin. “I know you’re always pushing it out of your eyes.”

My body went into a dazed kind of shock. In sensory overload, I scrambled to think properly. “I don’t know,” I said with a loose shrug. “Don’t…don’t you guys prefer long, flowing hair?”

Mason caught a strand of my hair and ran it through his fingers. “I can’t speak for other guys, but, yeah, I guess I do like it long and flowing.” He glanced at me with a disappointed expression. “So…this is to attract a guy then? Anyone specific?”

I flushed and ducked my face. “No. Not necessarily. I just…I personally think I look best this way.”

He picked up another piece of hair that had been lying on my opposite shoulder. With both hands full on either side of my face, he almost appeared as if he were holding a pair of reins, about to bridle me in close to him.

“Does this mean you’ll have caught your guy whenever you show up on campus someday with your hair in a ponytail?”

I shot him a strange look. “Well, then I’ll have to keep his attention, so…probably not.”

Mason gathered my locks at the back of my head as if preparing to put it into a ponytail. Once he had a hold of it all in one hand, he stroked a couple of knuckles down the side of my exposed jawline. “I don’t think you ever have to worry about what your hair looks like in order to attract a guy. You have too many other intriguing attributes to keep them interested.”

My lips parted and my entire body throbbed. “Mason?” I said slowly, my voice timid. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I probably shouldn’t.” His voice sounded hoarse and tender as he dipped his face and pressed his forehead against mine.

I began to tremble. I don’t know if it was because of anticipation, utter excitement, dread, or outright fear. “If…if you shouldn’t, then…don’t.”

A throaty whimper like a wounded cougar tore from his voice box. “Easier said than done.” With his fingers slipping through my hair, he curled his hand around to the back of my neck, urging my face up, probably to align me into position for a kiss. Then he whispered my name.

God, the achy, husky way he said it was like a silken caress to every erogenous nerve in my body.

“I think…I think it’d be best if you stopped.” My voice shook as badly as my limbs. But even as I spoke, my hormones cried out for him to continue.

“Okay,” he said, but his breath continued to beat against my lips and his forehead remained tattooed to mine.