Page 8 of The Handyman

"Mason, please put me down."

Mercifully, he stops. We're at the base of the staircase. He sets me down on my feet—slow, controlled, his arm behind my back, staying there until I'm standing, until he's sure my legs are under me.

I'm standing in front of him, and I have to tilt my head all the way back to see his face.

I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next. All I know is I want him with an intensity I have never felt, and with the way he's been looking at me, I know he feels it too.

If he doesn't and I'm wrong, then I'll have the biggest embarrassment of my life and just bury my head in the ground.

I grab the front of his wet T-shirt and crush my mouth to his. Our mouths bump. He jerks his head back, his eyes wide, looking into mine, questioning. I am sure I want this, and move my head back toward his. He relaxes, and his tongue quickly licks his bottom lip.

His mouth is warm against mine, soft and full and perfect. His face is wet from the rain, droplets cool against my cheeks. My hands are fisted in his shirt, wet fabric bunched between my fingers, the material clinging to the hard planes of his chest underneath. I'm pulling him down, and he's letting me, his massive frame bending to accommodate my reach.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my wet hair, his palm warm and calloused against my nape. His other hand settles on my hip, his grip firm, possessive, pulling me into him.

Mason's restraint lasts exactly as long as it takes me to open my mouth against his, to let my tongue dart out and taste him.

He sucks in a sharp breath; his hand tightens on my hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. He pulls me flush against his body, and I can feel all of him—the solid wall of his chest, the ridged muscles of his stomach, his powerful thighs bracketing mine, and his hard, ridged length pressing against my belly.

Oh my God. Mason's so much bigger than me; even when I’m on my toes, I only reach his chest, and my head is tilted back at an angle.

His hand in my hair tilts my head back further, arching my back and angling my face up to his. His mouth slips over mine, demanding, hungry, urgent.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth and I make a sound I didn't know I could make—something between a gasp and a whimper, desperate and needy. The sound seems to break something open in him because his grip on me tightens instantly, his fingers flex against my hip, his hand fisting through my hair.

Rain pounds against the windows like bullets. Thunder shakes the floor beneath our feet, rattling the pictures on the walls.

But I don't care about anything else right now, except him.

No questions enter my head. No doubts interfere. I’m driven by something I’ve never felt before, a certainty so strong I’m convinced the universe is behind me, encouraging me with every flash and rumble.

Even the pain in my tailbone is no longer top of my mind.

Just him.

3

MASON

The kiss turns feral in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

My tongue pushes into her mouth, sucking hers hard before I drive back in, fucking her mouth with long, deliberate strokes exactly the way I plan to fuck her pussy.

Katy moans into me, the sound vibrating straight down my spine to my balls. Her small hands fist tighter in my wet shirt, yanking me closer even though there is no closer left.

Thunder cracks overhead. The house shudders around us, but all I register is the slickness and heat of her tongue sliding against mine and the way her body melts into my chest.

I slide one hand beneath the waistband of those tiny cotton shorts and straight under her panties.

Oh, fuck.

My fingers meet bare, drenched flesh. Jesus. She is absolutely dripping, her slick coating my fingertips when I part her swollen lips with just one finger.

"Goddamn, Katy. You're soaked for me already."

Her breath catches hot against my lips. I drag my thick finger through her slippery folds, spreading her cream, circling her swollen clit once, twice with deliberate pressure. Her hips jerk forward, greedy for more.

My fingertip circles the silky, slippery entrance to her tight cunt. Her walls clamp down on my fleshy digit instantly. I ease it out and then in again. She is so fucking wet the filthy squelches of my slow penetrations echo quietly between us. I think I discovered another leak. One I don’t want to shut down any time soon.