Fallen Fourth Down (Fallen Crest #4)(66)

“Sam.” His voice was hoarse. “Shit. Okay.” Taking my hand, we went back into his room and through it to the bathroom. Once inside, he lifted me onto the counter and shut the door. It was locked and he hit the switch so the fan turned on.

I shook my head. That wouldn't be loud enough.

Groaning, he peeled away from me and went to the shower. It was turned on at full force, and he came back to me. I watched him, my mouth open, dry, and my heart pounded. I just wanted him in me. I wanted to feel his body pressed over mine as he moved in and out.

He stood in front of me, and his eyes drank me in with a stark look of need. I swallowed and began panting. I spread my legs, beckoning him, but his gaze trailed over me, down my front, lingering on my breasts, dropping to my waist. A look of fierce concentration came over him and his chest lifted. Holding still, his hand went to my leg. He grabbed hold of me, then moved between my legs. I started to wind them around him, but he shook his head. Gazing at my lips, he said, “No.” His hand lifted to my bottom lip, his eyes smoldering. He bent forward, his breath a caress over my skin as he said, “I love you so goddamn much.”

Reaching up, I grabbed the back of his head. My fingers fisted chunks of his hair, and I said, “Fuck me.”

A tender expression came over him, but he grinned and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. I sighed at the feel of them, just there, resting on mine. I waited, but he didn’t apply pressure. I needed that pressure, so I pressed up against him. I felt Mason holding back. Fuck that. My other hand grabbed the front of his boxers and I yanked him to me, scooting myself forward at the same time. We were pressed so tight together, he was almost in me. He was pressing right at my opening. I grinded against him, panting into his mouth.

He was trembling. His hand was still bracing himself against the counter. I ripped my mouth away.

His eyes were trained on my lips. His other hand ran down the side of my face, sweeping over my cheek, then my throat. It trailed all the way down until it rested between my breasts. “This, Sam. This is mine. This is what you have of mine too.” A look of love swept over him, filling his eyes, and he softened. I froze as that look raced through me, taking the world away. It was me and him. Right then. Right there. The emotion so damn thick in me, I murmured, “Mason.”

He shook his head, his forehead resting against mine. “You, Sam. I love you. Only you. When I’m not with you, I survive. When I’m with you, I live.”

“Mason.” Tears were running down my face. “I love you so goddamn much too.”

He nodded, touched his lips to mine again, and bent down to slide his hands underneath me. I was picked up from the counter and taken into the shower. He backed me up against the wall, still holding me upright, but it didn’t matter. My legs were wound so tight around him, I wasn’t going to fall. Running my hands over him, over his jaw, over his shoulders, down his chest, then back up to his face again, I opened my mouth to his. His tongue slid inside, meeting mine, and the kisses turned into a battle: who was commanding who. I growled as his tongue brushed mine, sending a heated frenzy through me.

My jeans were unzipped. His boxers were shoved down and kicked off. He took my hand, pressed it against the shower wall, and slid inside me.

I gasped, arching my back and exposing my throat. His mouth fell to lick there, and he began to move.

As he kept thrusting, I moved with him. We were moving as one, just wanting to feel the other, needing to feel the other, and right before I came, he nipped at my throat, then lifted his head back and met my gaze. We watched each other, seeing the release in our eyes. There was an explosion. A guttural groan came from him—no me. It was coming from me. Mason held me still, he wouldn’t look away, as I shook in his arms. When I was done, he dropped his head back down. His lips pressed against mine, and he breathed into me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

*

After drying off, I looked up at Mason. I didn’t want to talk. Love and so many other emotions were still with me, choking me, and he seemed to understand. He came to me, then bent and lifted me in the air. He carried me to his bed. As he reached to shut off the bathroom light, Matteo flipped over in his bed and mumbled from under the covers, “A shower, huh, brotha?”

Mason stiffened, but flipped the switch. The room went back to darkness and he replied, “Yeah.”

“That’s good…good for you.” His voice trailed off and a loud snore came next.

Ducking his head to my neck, I felt him laughing and bit down on my lip so my own didn’t slip out. Mason shook his head, but crossed the room to his bed. The covers were pulled back, and he set me down. I moved to one side and felt the bed dip under his weight as he sidled up behind me. A second later, he wrapped his arms around me and I closed my eyes. A deep satisfaction resounded throughout me, replacing all the anxiety and worries from before. For that moment, for that night, I knew I wouldn’t have to be concerned about anything.

He brushed his lips to my neck. “I love you. Thank you for coming.”

Feeling tears threatening to spill, I squeezed his arm. “I love you too.”

Then we went to sleep.

When I woke up, Mason was gone and a note was left on his nightstand. Practice, then home. Coffee downstairs. Some of the other players’ girlfriends are around. They can help if you need anything. Love you. Mason

After getting dressed, I snuck downstairs for coffee and a bottle of water, then went back up to his room. Before I went inside, I glanced over my shoulder to where she had been. The memory of Marissa came back to me and I wrinkled my nose. Mason hadn’t explained what she was doing here, but I wasn’t stupid. He thought that I was her when I first came in. The fact that he’d been prepared for that possibility, of her sneaking into his bed, didn’t sit well with me, but today was going to be a day of other confessions. I needed to tell him about Jackson.