The Summer Getaway: A Novel(121)

Sunglasses hid her eyes, so he had no idea what she was thinking. There was tension in her body, which didn’t bode well for him. A sense of dread killed the last whisper of hope as he realized he had his answer. She wasn’t here for him.

“Welcome back,” he said, careful to keep his tone neutral with a hint of casual welcome. “How was the drive?”

“Long.”

She pulled off her sunglasses, allowing him to see her stunning blue eyes. Emotions chased through them, but they were moving too fast for him to know what she was thinking. At least there wasn’t a ring on her finger, so that was something.

Her mouth curved into a smile. “I’ve had three days to think about what I wanted to say when I saw you, and now that I’m here, I can’t remember any of it. Which is probably for the best. You’re the writer in the family, not me.”

What the hell did that mean? He stifled his impatience and forced himself to pretend to relax. “I’m not writing as much these days. This morning I managed two pages about nineteenth-century cannons.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Not really.”

Could this be any more awkward? he thought desperately. Before, everything had been so easy. He hadn’t worried about what to say because when he was with her, he’d been free to be himself. He’d been secure in his love for her, but now he was a mess.

“I can help you with your luggage,” he said, mostly to distract himself from how awful this was.

She tilted her head as she studied him. “Mason,” she began, then shook her head and walked toward him.

He didn’t know what she was going to do, so he didn’t move. He half expected her to go around him and into the house, but she didn’t. Instead she stopped in front of him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him toward her. He was so surprised, he let her tug him close, then nearly lost it when she raised herself on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.

She was kissing him, he thought in amazement, before the reality of her mouth on his caused his brain to shut down as his body demanded that he simply feel what was happening.

Her lips were warm and just insistent enough to make it clear what she wanted. He wrapped his arms around her so they were body to body. Her hands moved up and down his back before dropping to his ass, where she squeezed. Hard.

Wanting exploded, fueled by her heat and the way she was grinding her crotch against his suddenly rigid dick. Her mouth parted, and he pushed his tongue inside. She met him stroke for stroke before sucking on his tongue in that deep “take me now” way that always had him desperate for whatever she was offering. Was this really happening?

As he was trying to decide, she was pushing him into the house. Once they were in the kitchen, she maneuvered him into the breakfast room, where she drew back enough to start taking off her clothes. Responding in kind seemed like the most sensible course of action, he thought, nearly ripping off his shirt. He toed out of his shoes and shoved down his jeans and briefs, only to stop and stare at her.

“I don’t have a condom on me,” he said, barely able to speak through the haze of wanting. “They’re in my room.”

She gave him a slow, sexy smile that nearly drove him to his knees, before pulling one out of the back pocket of her jeans and waving it.

“I thought you might have less of a need to have one on you,” she said, her voice teasing. “I got the extra-large ones. They seem to fit better.”

He practically tore off the rest of her clothes before picking her up and setting her on the breakfast room table. She handed him the condom and looked into his eyes.

“I need you inside of me, Mason,” she said bluntly. “Forget about the rest of it. We can play later.”

His hands shook as he tore open the wrapper. It took him two tries to get the damn thing on, but then he was pushing inside of her.

He felt his world right itself. When she tensed around him, her head tilting back, her mouth gasping for air right before she called out his name, begging him to never stop, he knew he was back exactly where he belonged. Whatever happened next, he would always have this moment, this time, this memory. And then he couldn’t think anymore. He could only feel his release and the pleasure they gave each other, and hear the sound of his name as she screamed.



* * *



Robyn resurfaced to find herself naked on the breakfast room table. She’d spent most of her drive preparing what she wanted to say when she saw Mason, but instead of telling him any of it, she’d gone right to sex. He didn’t seem to be complaining, but at some point they needed to have a conversation.

Once they could both breathe normally, they cleaned up and got dressed. Only then did they look at each other. She felt his questions, knew he had no idea what she was thinking. Her carefully organized speech no longer made sense, so instead of reciting it, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the front sitting room.

When they were seated across from each other, she leaned toward him.

“Cord proposed to Zafina, and she said yes. He’s buying me out of the house, which makes the most sense. He loves that place, and I think they’ll be happy there. Harlow’s settled in Key West.”

She thought about mentioning the ridiculously high rents and how tiny her daughter’s apartment was, but knew none of that was important. It was only something to fill time until she found the courage to say what really mattered. It was time for her to do what was right for her—to say what was important and hope that he responded in kind.