Page 136 of Please Open Me
“Well, fuck, who amIto stop you from using my body?” Especially when I needed that normalcy just as much, if not more than she did.
Without another word, I dropped the towel, allowing it to pool around my ankles. Mason stepped closer, finger trailing up my stomach.
“Your abs are gone,” she said, almost absent-mindedly.
“Nope,” I breathed, twining my fingers in her hair and pulling her closer. “I’ve been getting drunk every night and eating like shit for the last two weeks—they’re just hidden.”
“Why?”
Slowly, I worked her hair into a ponytail using my hands.
“Because I’ve missed you, and the kids, and I’ve felt like shit because I thought I lost you for good,” I rasped. “Plus, I’m twenty-three, that means I can do dumb shit when the mood strikes.”
“Almost twenty-four,” she corrected.
And I nodded.
“Almost twenty-four.” Not that I needed a reminder of my birthday.
The Fourth of July was pretty hard to forget for most red-blooded Americans.
Mason’s lips twitched twice. She wanted to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. Then, without further hesitation, her thumbs brushed my hips and her lips parted.
Without thinking, I guided my dick into her mouth. She hummed around me before swallowing me down, her throat working on the sensitive balls lining the underside of my cock.
I shuddered and tightened my grip on her hair. It didn’t take long for me to cum, which was fair, because this was more transactional than lust-filled. Mason didn’t flinch when I spilled down her throat; she just swallowed like she’d already committed to pleasing me before she even walked into the bathroom.
She pulled back, eyes watering, and for a moment, I regretted taking what she’d offered.
“Hey, Princess, are you okay?” I cooed, reaching to cup her chin.
But Mason pulled away, suddenly cold, as ifthishad never happened.
She then forced a smile. “We’re having a family meeting downstairs… I brought Mattie.”
My blood boiled at just the name of that bitch. But, I couldn’t just tell Mason that I wasn’t coming downstairs if that cunt was still there, so I bit my tongue and nodded.
This better be fucking good.
Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe I was just being paranoid, but there was something different about Mason. At least, I thought there was. I couldn’t see much because of the flowy sundress she’d draped herself in, but her face looked… fuller. Same with her breasts.
I shifted on the couch, digging my nails into my palm to ground myself. Something about her wasn’t right. Not wrong, exactly—just… different. And my brain refused to put a word to what that difference was.
So instead of spiraling, I latched onto the one thing I could control: glaring at Mattie. She stood right behind Mason’s chair, arms crossed, leaning over it like she owned the fucking place. Like she hadn’t tried to systematically tear Mason from our lives. Like she wasn’t part of Dale’s fucking cult.
My fingers twitched at my side as I wrestled with the urge to kill her. I think Cameron could tell I was one wrong word away from snapping her neck, because he draped an arm over my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple, quickly shushing me as if I were a child.
“So… what I’m saying is, I want to come home,” Mason said softly, looking from me, to Cameron, to Sophia, and finally to Lucian, who’d nestled himself into the corner of the oversized sectional.
Her gaze didn’t linger anywhere in particular.
“Yeah,” Lucian snorted. “you shouldn’t have fucking left—ow.”
I glanced over to see Sophia wearing a tight-lipped smile as she released Lucian’s ratty ponytail.
Withdrawal had been hell for him, and unlike last time, no one wanted to help him. Why would we, considering he got himself into this mess? That meant his long curls had been left to mat at the ends.
“What! I’m just telling the truth,” Lucian grumbled. “she’s the one that left. She’s the one that took my kids. And she is a fucking bitch.”
