Page 98 of Shamed
“No. You go ahead. I showered at the gym.” He quickly turns and walks into the living room, leaving me standing by the front door.
I stare after him, contemplating my options, talking myself into and then out of following after him.
What if he just got caught up in the moment at the club and didn’t actually want it, and now he feels weird?
Or what if hedidwant it and thought I didn’t? I’m the one who ran off first.
What to do. What to do.
My heart thunders, palms turning clammy when, after a minute or two of just standing there, I find my feet taking me in the same direction he went, instead of to the bathroom.
Mase is sitting on the couch, tattooed arms folded across his thick chest, deep in thought as he stares at the coffee table in front of him.
Sexy is only one way to describe how he looks right now, and boy does he ever fit that word, especially in the outfit he’s wearing. Dressed like my dark savior.
My blood simmers with the need to continue what was started in the club.
Iwantto dance for him again. Iwantto kiss him. Iwantto be close to him.
I want him.
It hits me fiercely, sending blood rushing through my veins and desire to my core.
All my usual thoughts and feelings are well and truly drowned out, leaving only room for the loud thump of my heart.
I step into Mase’s line of sight, and his head jerks up when he notices me.
“Are we . . . okay?” I ask, coming to a stop in front of him.
Mase’s jaw clenches, and he slides his hands under his thighs. “Yeah. Of course.” Brows pulled together, he stares up at me.
“Are you sure?”
His eyes drop for a second, thoughts and feelings crossing his face before he returns his gaze to me. “If I had stayed at the club tonight, I might have caused a scene.”
“A scene?”
Instead of elaborating, his features soften with a small smile. “Yeah.”
Relief loosens my shoulders. That means he wanted it, right? That he doesn’t regret it?
And that helps with my decision.
After a long, deep, fortifying breath, I dip my chin with a short nod.
Then, pulling my phone out, I select a song with a slow, sensual beat, before placing it on the coffee table behind me, hands shaking. “I didn’t get to finish giving you that lap dance earlier.”
“Jayne . . .” Mase shakes his head, eyes widening. “You don’t have to do that. I shouldn’t have put you in that situation in the first place.”
“You didn’t put me in that situation.” I start gently swaying my hips to the music, because if I don’t do this now, I may lose my courage altogether. “I don’t think you realize what it means for me towantto do this. I haven’t wanted to touch a man in a very,verylong time.”
A shaky breath leaves his chest. “We’re all alone here.”
“That’s the point,” I murmur. “I haven’t wanted to be alone with a man, either. But I want to be alone with you.” Leaning down, I repeat what I did at the club, running my hands up and down his thighs while moving to the song.
“You shouldn’t.” He sounds almost tortured, breaths coming out faster as I move up to his chest.
I pause. “Do you notwant this?”
