Fallen Crest Home (Fallen Crest High #6)(23)

“Yeah?”

I was becoming breathless.

My body was starting to burn up.

Whatever I felt was beginning to fade, and a whole different pressing need was taking its place. Heat began to pool between my legs, spreading through me.

I closed my eyes, arching up against him, and groaned at the feel of him right there.

No matter what was going on with me, this would never cease. Ever.

His arm slid underneath my back and he moved me until I was in the middle of the bed. He lay on top of me, still holding most of his weight so he didn’t crush me. He gazed down, his eyes molten with desire. His other hand lifted to my cheek and rested there, framing the side of my face.

He said, “Yeah. We’ll figure it out.”

That was enough. I turned my mind off.

We stared at each other for a moment, and then I lifted a hand and touched his lips. They were so perfectly formed. They only accentuated the strength in him somehow, but goddamn. I could feel all of his muscles as he rested on me. Mason was known as the fighter, the protector, the strong one. Sometimes I forgot how beautiful he was on the inside, too.

He smiled before he drew my finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled and rubbed against it gently.

I gasped and clamped my legs tight. The need for him was almost overwhelming now. My legs entwined around him, bringing him in full contact against me. Both of us gasped. I arched my back again, closing my eyes, just feeling him. His entire body rested more fully on me now, pinning me down.

My hand cradled the back of his neck, holding him prisoner.

I didn’t want him to look away, to move away.

I wanted him inside of me.

His eyes darkened and as if reading my mind, he moved back to pull his pants off. After grabbing a condom, and pulling it on, he came back and settled between my legs.

My arms went back around him, like returning to their home.

“Sam,” he murmured, tracing a finger down the side of my face. He tucked some hair behind my ear, and then I felt his lips against mine again.

Yes. Home.

That’s what this was.

I groaned, my head falling back, and I felt his soft chuckle against my skin, but then he reached down and shifted, lifting my leg until I wound it around his waist. He dipped in, shifting, and I felt him at my entrance. He paused, then slid inside.

My eyes closed and I relished the feel of him in me.

He began moving, thrusting inside of me.

As he kept going, and he slid his hands up my arms to capture my hands, I opened my eyes. We were staring back at each other, watching each other. I could feel him reaching inside of me, searching, claiming me. Everything in my body yearned for him, yearned for more. I wanted more. I needed more.

The second he touched me, everything blared alive. I was awakened. Always.

In and out. Mason kept thrusting.

My fingers clamped down over his, sinking deep as his pace quickened.

“Mason,” I gasped. Weak. His onslaught kept going, harder, faster. “I love you.”

He groaned, climaxing, and his body clenched as he thrust into me a last time. It sent me hurdling over the edge, and I wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on.

A moment later, he brushed a soft kiss on my forehead before he slipped out.

I still lay beneath him.

I didn’t want to move.

I didn’t want him to move, and eventually, we slept like that.

I woke later, but I was still in his arms. He was curled up behind me, and I went back to sleep again. All the doubts and questions would be there tomorrow.





The rest of the week passed uneventfully.

Mark and I picked up trash at the carnival. Mason looked at me like I’d grown an alien head when I told him about our new job, but he didn’t say anything against it.

He only nodded and kissed my forehead. “Logan will want to work with you when he gets back, even if he doesn’t get paid.”

And at the end of every shift, Mason picked me up. But today I texted that he wouldn’t have to. When Mark and I checked in after lunch, Keifer announced we’d be manning booths today—two different booths.

“What? You think I’m a complete idiot?” he said to our disappointed faces. “No way am I letting the two of you fuck up. Don’t know the ways, both of yas too green,” he grunted, grabbing our red vests and exchanging them for carnival shirts. I got a blue one, and Mark got a black one. Keifer pointed at the shirts. “You rip those, and it’s coming out of your paycheck. Got it? We ain’t rich millionaires around here.”

I was paired with the guy who told us to be sure we got paid that first day. He held out a hand, introducing himself. “I’m Petey.”

I looked over his sun-streaked dark blond curls, bright blue eyes, matching bright smile with perfect white teeth, and lean build. He wore a matching blue carnival shirt, but his was bigger and ripped all over. A large gash went up the side, showing off how tan he was.

Keifer saw the gash, too, I could tell, but he only pressed his lips together. Petey smirked.

“Sam,” I said as I shook his hand.

Keifer closed one eye, staring hard at Petey. I got a good whiff of chew as he exhaled. “You okay with her? Not going to mess this one up, are yas?”

Petey flashed a cocky grin and shrugged. “You’re delusional, old man. I’ve never messed one up. Go on. Teach the other guy the ropes.” He nodded to me. “I got this. She’ll be fine.”