Page 118 of Finding Us
“You’re both welcome.” My mum leans towards Blake, who’s sitting beside her, and places a kiss on his hair. “Do you think you have room in your belly for some cake, sweetie?”
His face lights up and my smile grows. “Is it chocolate cake?”
“It sure is.”
“Yes,” he says, doing a little fist pump. “I have room for a really big piece.”
We all laugh at that. Mason aside, we’ve all had a really nice day. I’ve noticed Blake watching his father’s over-the-top displays of affections towards me, but apart from a few grins here and there, he hasn’t spoken up about it. I think he’s secretly been wishing for this to happen.
It’s great being home and spending time with my parents, and my mum hasn’t stop smiling. She’s always worried that her life with my sperm donor was the reason behind me never being in a relationship, but it had more to do with him than her.
She was trapped in a hopeless situation; I can’t blame her for that. Unless you’ve lived it, it’s hard to grasp why a woman would stay with an abuser. I know firsthand that walking away isn’t that easy. My mother was absolutely petrified of him, and over the years, my father wore her down. Not only stripping her of all her self-worth and dignity, he alienated her and controlled her every move, including all the finances; she had nothing and nowhere else to go.
When it came down to it, being homeless and penniless with a small child to care for, must’ve seemed more dire than the horrendous situation she was living, and that makes me so sad. I can only imagine the hopelessness she felt during that time. She wanted more for me,and herself, but had no clue how to achieve it. Nobody deserves a life like that.
Standing, I take my plate to the sink. “I’m going to head upstairs and take a shower.”
“Your dad put yours and Mason’s bags in your room. I’m going to set Blake up in Connor’s old room,” my mum says.
“I’m not sharing a room with Mason.”
“Sweetie,” she says, “You’re twenty-one years old, I was married with a child when I was your age.”
“We’re not married, Mum.”
I swear I hear her mumble, “Not yet,” under her breath. “Your father and I discussed this, and we’re fine with it. I may be your mother, but I’m not a prude, I’m sure you’ve both—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I screech.
“What I think your daughter is trying to say, Grace,” Mason chimes in, “is thank you, and that we appreciate it. She has trouble sleeping without me beside her.”
When my mouth gapes open, he smiles like a smug motherfucker. If I didn’t have every eye in the room on me right now, I swear I’d kick him in the shins.
I’m already in bed by the time Mason comes up to my room. I quickly close my eyelids and pretend I’m asleep when he approaches the bed. When his footsteps cease, even though my eyes are closed, I can feel his stare. I left the lamp on, so I know he has a clear, unobstructed view of me from where he stands. It’s kind of creepy, but sweet. I hold my breath when I feel his fingertips lightly brush the hair back from my forehead before tenderly running a path down the side of my face. It’s such a loving move, and when I hear him sigh, a knot forms in the back of my throat.
Minutes pass, and it’s not until he turns and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him, that I reopen them. Why was he watching me fake sleep?
When I hear the shower turn on, I groan, pulling the sheets up over my face, trying with all my might not to imagine him stripping down and slipping under the spray. I know exactly what his ripped body looks like glistening under the water. Ugh, of course my mind goes straight there.
Today has been a mixture of heaven and hell, and when Mason said he was going to keep up appearances in front of my mum, he wasn’t lying. Any chance he got to have his hands or lips on me, he took it. It was like some kind of erotic torture, because I knew the moment we were behind closed doors, it would all stop. He was enjoying teasing me, and my traitorous body fell for each and every caress.
The moment the bathroom door opens, my eyes spring closed again, but the one closest to the pillow cannot help taking a sneaky peek, and I’m not disappointed. He’s completely naked as he strides towards the bed, and that huge cock of his is hanging heavy between those thick, muscly thighs of his. That ever-present ache between my legs intensifies, to the point I’m throbbing.
He reaches over to switch off the lamp, and although I hate the dark, I feel safe knowing he’s beside me. I roll over, giving him my back when he slips between the sheets. “You better be wearing clothes.”
“I think you know the answer to that since you were pretending to be asleep just now.”
“I was asleep until your heavy elephant feet woke me up.”
I feel the mattress shake with his laughter. “I’m pretty sure it was the sway of the elephant’s trunk that had you mesmerised since that seemed to be where your attention was focussed.”
Busted.
“Trunk? Hah! I was actually squinting to try and find it … it’s the size of a slug at best.”
He barks out a laugh. “You kill me, Red.”
Scooting closer, he reaches for me, so I slap his hand away. “I swear to God, if I wasn’t into anti-violence, I’d roll over right now and grab hold of your tiny man balls—”
