Page 144 of Shamed
Then there’s those eyes, dark as night, but filled with so much light as they scan over my face and body, checking. He pauses on my blonde hair, then settles on my eyes. I wonder what he sees now.
The last time he saw me, I was in a hospital bed after he had found me bleeding out on the bathroom floor.
So much shame spreads through me, like ants in my veins.
But it doesn’t have the same effect on me as it once did.
I had messaged Mase with fingers that barely cooperated after calling the police tonight, but I wasn’t sure if he’d come.
He had respected my wishes to stay away, my wishes to break contact.
But he’s here now. He came for me.
Without a word, he cradles my face as if I’m something precious to him, then he’s pulling me into his arms, tightly engulfing my body. Nothing has ever felt so right as being held by him.
His scent soothes me, a mix of cologne clinging to his jacket, and . . . clean sweat.
I pull back, realizing he’s in his workout clothes—in shorts, specifically.
“I was at the gym, and I left as soon as I saw your message. Are you okay?”
Throat clogging, I bury my face into his chest.
The truth is, I’m better than I thought I would have been.
Mase gave me the tools to be able to defend myself tonight. And even though I haven’t been with him, or even spoken to him, over the past couple of months, he’s been right there at the forefront of my mind. He’s been the encouragement and motivation.
And he came straight for me, without even stopping to change.
Belatedly, I remember the officers still in my apartment and angle my head to look at them. “Yes, I will be fine, thank you.” I answer the question from both the female officer and Mase.
Nodding, the officers say their goodbyes, letting me know they’ll be in contact, then it’s just me and Mase left alone.
A beat passes, then two, as we stare at each other. We’re still close, our bodies almost pressed together, and I can’t seem to step away, can’t seem to drag my eyes off him.
I’m sure my heart is trying to speak directly to him with how loud it’s beating right now. I rest my palms against his chest and find that his is beating just as hard. Maybe our hearts are trying to talk to each other . . . or our souls are.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.
He releases a breath that’s filled with so much relief that I feel his body sag. Did he honestly think there was a chance I wouldn’t?
“I’ve missed you, too. So fucking much.”
He dips his head to press his lips to mine, and while I’m sure he intended it to be a soft kiss, a reacquainting after so long, the moment our lips touch, electricity sparks, bringing everything to life.
The kiss switches gears in an instant.
My mouth parts and his tongue plunges in, seeking mine out to stroke. I moan in return and slide my hands up to thread through his hair, slightly tugging and making him grunt.
Ishouldwant to talk to him first. So many things have happened since we were last together.
But I don’t want to stop. I couldn’t if I tried.
I want this connection with him first. Need it.
Mase presses in closer, clearly on the same page, but it’s as if he can’t get close enough. Our height difference, our clothes, they’re all in the way. A frustrated huff leaves his mouth as he slips his hands under my ass cheeks to lift me, then he forces my legs to wrap around his waist while he walks us to the nearest kitchen counter.
With my ass perched on the edge of the wooden surface, he crowds into me, kissing me as if it’s been torturous years, not merely months.I feel the same way.
