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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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Ginny smirked. “Touché. Do you want me to take off my shirt?”

Yes. God, yes. “Do you get upset if I tell you that I do?”

“I get upset if you lie, regardless of your answer.” She pushed away from the couch, stretching and elongating her frame as she stood. Each movement was its own graceful act.

Ginny drew her hands up her sides, to stretch her arms over her head. The sensuous display hummed through him, lighting his nerve endings up. She spun so her back was to him, then grabbed the hem of her shirt. She wiggled her hips as she slowly crept the fabric up her torso, whirling to face him again when her stomach was exposed.

She shimmied out of the top—he didn’t even know how it was possible to shimmy clothing up, but she did it—and tossed the T at him.

Stunning. The word stuck in his head as he studied her, standing there in jeans and a bra. Was it because she was a half-naked woman?

No. It was because she was Ginny.

She slipped a finger under a bra strap, and slid it down her shoulder.

“Just the shirt. Nothing else.” He stopped her.

“You have me half topless. What do you plan on doing with me?” There was a catch in her defiant tone.

The tension that hummed in the room made his pulse race and his heart hammer. This was almost as simple as the kissing, but he was more turned on than he ever remembered being.

He stood and approached her. “Appreciating you.” He hesitated for a moment, then rested a palm on her stomach. Her bare skin was hot against his, and it sent a spike of desire through him.

She leaned into his touch, rather than pulling away, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

Mason glided higher, to cup her breasts. He kneaded through lace, and she whimpered. Fucking whimpered. His cock jerked in response. He wanted to memorize everything about her—the pink flush that spread across pale skin and melted into freckles. The soft curls of orange framing her face.

And those delicious noises she was making... Those would keep him company in his dreams for a long time.

He continued to tease and pinch, using the quickening of her breath and the fluttering of her eyelids as a gauge.

“Is this the second-base version of appreciating me?” Her teasing question was breathy, ending in a gasp when he rolled a nipple between his fingers.

“This is proving such a thing is possible when you still have your clothes on.” He was making this shit up as he went, but it tasted real, and her responses sounded amazing.

Her laugh was strained. “What if I’d rather you appreciate me in a different way?”

He’d rather feel more of her, but this was about proving a point. “Do you want me to stop?” He tried to make the question threatening.

“No. Fuck no. I want more. Preferably involving fewer clothes.”

“Hmm...” He pretended to consider the question. He already knew his answer. “No.” He pinched her nipple again, and she gasped. Apparently, he could tease, too.

“Excuse me?” She forced the question out.

Fortunately, he could think of at least a few things that were possible while they both stayed technically clothed. “Kneel on the couch, facing away from me.” He hesitated to make the command. Would she counter and accuse him of being just like all other men?

“So you can appreciate how good my ass looks in these jeans?” She knelt, and wiggled her butt at him.

Okay, he was done asking himself too many questions. This was working in his favor, and she seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was. He moved behind her, and pressed a row of kisses down her bare spine. “Something like that.”

He teased his fingers along the waistband of her jeans, trying to ignore the ache of his erection, begging to be free.

When he undid her pants in a single jerk, and yanked them to her knees along with her panties, she squealed with surprised delight.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I thought you wanted my clothes on.”

“Technically they are.” He glided his hand along the curve of her ass, to slide between her legs. This was wicked, and delicious, and empowering.

She was wet, and when he dipped two fingers inside her, she clenched around them. She rocked against the penetration.

“You like that?” he asked.

“It’s good. It could be better.”

He smacked her ass, and the slap echoed through the room. “You’re a brat sometimes.” Was that all right to say? You’re not asking yourself anymore questions.

“Only sometimes?” Her tone was playful. “I’ll try harder.”

The joking was fun, but his dick was about to revolt. He freed himself, and rolled on a condom. Hand on the small of her back, he pressed her to the right height.

“More like this?” He nudged her opening with the head of his cock.

“Just like that.” She pushed back onto him, driving him deep inside her.

Her pussy gripped him, tight and slick and hot. “Oh, fuck. You feel good.” Maybe he should have drawn things out a little longer. He wouldn’t last long like this. “Play with yourself,” he said. “I want to feel you come around me.”

She slid her fingers between her legs, and he felt another squeeze. Even setting a slow pace, despite her efforts to the contrary, each plunge zinged over him. It buzzed with need along his skin and tightened in his balls.

Ginny clenched around his cock. The sensation combined with her loud moan broke his restraint. Her voice, so close to climax, undid him.

He pounded hard and fast, slamming against her. Each time he struck something deep, her cries grew louder. She came hard, milking him.

The sensations overloaded his thoughts, and stars danced behind his eyelids. He gripped her hips tight, needing something to hold onto. When orgasm finally hit him, it washed through fast, clenching in his toes and fingers and making him squeeze his eyes shut.

He hammered inside her until he was spent, and even then was reluctant to stop. “You feel so good.” He pulled her back into him, kissing her shoulder.

“Mmm... I was going to say the same.”

He smiled against her bare skin. “Stay with me tonight. Don’t sleep in your own bed.”

“I’d be upset if you wanted otherwise.” She pressed into him.

He was so fucked when this trip was over. Everything about this woman undid him, and he wasn’t going to be the same when they went their separate ways.

He wasn’t willing to look that far ahead, even if it was only a few days away.

****

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MASON WAS DOING HIS best to ignore the throbbing in his skull. No reason to ruin a wonderful night by waking up with a horrific headache. The first double dose of ibuprofen didn’t work. He took a second a few minutes ago. Fingers crossed it kicked in soon.

He shouldered his bag and Ginny’s.

“I can get that,” she said.

“I know, but I like playing the manly gentleman sometimes.”

She smirked and held up her hands. “Fair enough. We out of here?”

“I don’t know. What are the odds your friend will let us stay here for another week?” Mason enjoyed the luxury of the room, but more importantly, he liked the memories they’d made here. Even if it was only one night.

It sucked he had this pounding in his skull and no drinking to go with it, but he was glad he’d been sober.

She nudged him toward the hotel room door. “I have to work in a few days, and once we get your situation figured out, you’ll need to do the same. But I don’t think we should push our luck with his hospitality.”  She left the key card on a nearby table, they stepped into the hallway, and the door swung shut behind them. “Speaking of, he mentioned he was in the office today. Do you mind if we stop in and tell him thanks before we go?”

“Not a problem.” Mason figured it was the polite thing to do anyway.

As they took the elevator downstairs, Ginny stood close enough her arm rested against his. She spoke with someone at the front desk, and a moment later, they were being shown through a long corridor that led away from the casino and hotel.

They stepped through a door at the end of the hallway.

Mason wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe some bulky, bald, Kingpin-looking dude who smelled like cigars.

The gentleman who greeted them was taller than Mason’s six-foot-two, and well-muscled enough that his very-expensive-looking suit accented his entire frame. He was GQ handsome, and approached Ginny with a flawless smile. “I’m so glad you had a few minutes for me.” He kissed her on each cheek.

Ginny’s smile was bright and sweet. “I’ve always got time for you, hon. This is my friend, Mason. Mason, this is Giovanni.”

The word friend made Mason bristle. Or maybe it was that there was no hesitation when she said it. He shouldn’t care. It was exactly what they were, and friendship with Ginny was a good thing. “Pleasure to meet you.” He shook Giovanni’s hand. “Thanks for the room last night.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Giovanni spoke with the slightest hint of an accent. He practically oozed manliness. “Anything for my southern belle.” He moved to slap her ass.

Ginny grabbed his wrist. “Hey, now.” Her tone was light and playful. “I’m not merchandise anymore.” She winked.

Mason shoved his fist in his pocket. He wouldn’t get jealous. He didn’t mind. This wasn’t his business.

“Someday I’ll find the right price. Everybody has one.” Giovanni chuckled.

Mason wanted to deck him. How was Ginny not getting in his face for a comment like that?

Instead, tsked. “You know better.”

“Apologies, bella. I do. How are you enjoying the desert?”

And now they were making small talk?

“We saw some incredible red rocks in New Mexico and Arizona. I’d heard about them, but in person...” Ginny trailed off.

Giovanni cupped her cheek. “As fiery as you.”

She blushed. Fucking pink spread across her cheeks, and she studied her feet.

Mason was done. He couldn’t watch this anymore. “Absolutely amazing. Anyway. Thank you for the room, but we need to get going to keep on schedule.”

“Of course. Safe travels.” Giovanni kissed Ginny on both cheeks one more time, then got that ass slap in when they walked out the door.

“I think he likes you.” Mason struggled to keep the jealousy from his voice as they made their way to his car. He only mostly succeeded.

Ginny shrugged and slid into the driver’s seat. “He likes me naked and flashing my pussy. He doesn’t care who I am.”

And now she was back to herself. But was she really? The Ginny he knew was direct and assured, not demure and permissive. Was she showing him a mask? Giving him what she thought he needed to see?

That didn’t make sense. But the gnawing envy he couldn’t ignore insisted he was deluding himself to think he was anything but a ride and a fuck to Ginny.

She’s told me otherwise. And I know she means it.

Did he?

Of course I do.

Then why was doubt still churning inside?