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“Is this where you hit me with a line about showing me your light saber?” She kept the question light, hoping to shift the mood of the conversation. Tell him you don’t want to do this anymore.
He hesitated half a heartbeat longer than she expected. “Do you want me to? I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Pretty sure you lose double geek points for passing up an opportunity like that.”
“I’m saving it. Don’t want to scare you off. Besides, bad lines come after you do.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “That was a pretty bad line.”
“But you liked it.”
Ginny’s breath caught at the shift in his gaze. Even though she’d been poking and prodding, she hadn’t expected him to slide into assured the way he did. “I did. Why didn’t you and Trina ever screw?”
“What makes you think we didn’t?”
“Instinct. Am I wrong?” She wanted to be wrong. She couldn’t ignore the chaos brimming inside, wanting her to be wrong about so much about him. Like that he was decent even once the top layers were stripped away. He was like everyone else, and she couldn’t afford to pretend otherwise.
He shook his head and shifted so he was kneeling on all fours. He crawled toward her, stopping when his face was inches from Ginny’s. “I lied again.”
Ginny’s stomach dropped. Of course he did. Nailed it. Why did she care? “About what?”
“I’m not pretending you’re Trina. I don’t see her when I look at you. I see freckles and stunning green eyes and passion and intelligence and you.”
Fucking asshole. He wasn’t supposed to be sincere. Why was Ginny’s pulse hammering in her ears? Why did she care Mason was close enough the faint traces of his body spray teased her? Why was her body betraying her, sending goosebumps racing over her skin and heat spreading underneath?
He rested a finger under her chin. “I need you to know that, because I don’t want there to be any doubt that when I do this, it’s with you.”
“Do wha—”
He kissed her, cutting off her question. The sensation was so light she felt her anticipation as much as his touch, but there was no trace of hesitation. Her lips parted in surprise, and he nipped the bottom one before claiming her mouth.
Mason slid a hand to the back of her neck, holding her captive. Each peck and nibble sent desire racing through her veins. It was as though he dined hungrily on kisses, but still took the time to savor each one.
She didn’t understand how this first-base make-out session had her nipples hard and tender, and need pooling in her belly, but it did.
He caught her lip between his teeth, before pulling away enough to look her in the eye. “I meant what I said before.” His voice was strained, and the intensity he watched her with stole her breath.
“Which thing?”
“I want to bury my head between your thighs and taste you.”
Unlike his false bravado earlier, this made dampness grow between her legs. It was a physical response. Nothing more.
So why couldn’t she find the words to respond? She needed something better to do with her tongue, so she crushed her mouth to his again.
She needed to feel more. To touch him. And to be in control. She didn’t like this slipping sense of falling into the moment. She yanked his shirt over his head, then raked her nails down his back, pressing closer. Focusing on the physical.
Mason moved one hand to her breast, kneading through fabric, and rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed down her jaw to her neck. When he sucked on the skin, and scraped his teeth over it, a moan slipped out without her permission.
He fumbled with her zipper for a moment before undoing her jeans, and she helped him push them off, along with her panties.
He glided his lips up the inside of her thighs, alternating feather-light kisses with demanding ones. She was pretty sure he was leaving a trail of faint marks along her skin. The idea made her squirm in anticipation.
Mason reached her core, his hot breath caressing skin already slick with need, but he didn’t make contact. He kissed down the other leg.
“Tease.” She meant the word to be playful, but it came out wispy and laden with want.
“Savoring the moment.” His lips vibrated against her skin. He licked a path back up. When he glided his tongue over her slit, she gasped and arched her back, pressing into his face.
Ginny knotted one hand in his hair, needing something to grip. He was back to sucking and licking—enough to make her wetter, but nothing near what she wanted to get off.
She was torn between wanting to enjoy the game, and climax. The former meant admitting there was more to this than sex, and that terrified her.
The slow build thrummed in her thoughts, making her lightheaded as he lavished her with attention. He plunged his tongue inside her, licking her inner walls. Her thoughts were jumbled. She was ready to beg for more. To point out the leisurely dining was nice, but it wasn’t the main course.
Before she could prompt, he moved his fingers to her swollen button. The brush against her clit yanked her to the edge, and she groaned. He pressed harder, rubbing as her breathing grew to short pants, and she clenched around his tongue, then eased off.
“No.” She forced the word out. “No more playing.”
This time when he pressed in, stroking her, he didn’t let up. Her hips bucked in time with the attention, and the orgasm that had hesitated crashed over her in a wave that made her gasp and cry out.
He eased up on his attention when she shuddered away from his touch. She pulled his head to hers, kissing him hard and tasting herself on his lips. On his face.
When she traced the outline in his jeans, teasing his cock, he jerked against her hand. She shouldn’t want more, but she did.
“Condom?” she asked. A twisted part of her hoped he’d say no. She always carried protection, but if he wasn’t prepared, maybe she could summon enough irritation to climb out of this amazing sensation she was falling into.
“Yes.” He pulled a foil package from his wallet.
Relief she didn’t want to feel rushed over her. She wasn’t ready for the night to end, as much as her brain insisted she was reading too much into the moment. She wasn’t completely ready to surrender control, though.
They stripped the rest of their clothes off in a tangle of urgency and limbs. She snagged the condom from him, nudged his shoulders so he lay on the bed, and straddled his legs, near the knees.
Mason’s chuckle danced along her nerves, and she bit back a whimper. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she performed one of her favorite tricks—rolling the condom on his shaft with her mouth. He was bigger than she expected.
She swirled her tongue around his length, bobbing at a slow but steady pace.
When he pulled her head up and placed a finger under her chin, she was surprised.
“I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” he said.
“That’s why I don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “I want to feel you. To slide inside you.”
“I like the sound of that.” She climbed up his body until she hovered over his erection.
He grabbed her hips and thrust up, driving inside her and spreading her out.
What made him drop the act? The same thing that has you wanting more. She needed her brain to shut up.
She tried to set a fast and frantic pace, to be the one in control, but he dug his fingers into her skin, keeping things slow. His grip should have been too much, but she reveled in the easy power of it.
Mason glided his hands up her stomach to her breasts. The worship in his gaze and touch pushed the rest of her doubt to the back of her mind. She tumbled into the rhythmic push and pull. The thrust driving deep into her. The way his grunts mingled with her moans. The sheen of sweat on her skin, cooling in the air.
The speed increased until he slammed against her. He dropped one hand to tease her clit with his thumb. The new contact sent her into another orgasm. She clenched around him, not thinking about anything but now.
The shift of his sounds told her he was close too. When Mason’s hands fell to her thighs, squeezing, and his breathing became short bursts she knew he was coming too.
As the edge faded, they both slowed to a stop. She struggled to catch her breath and find her voice. She rolled off Mason to lie next to him, but kept her shoulder pressed to his. The contact was basic and pleasant.
“First time you’ve ever said that?” she teased.
“Said what?”
“I’m done role-playing, let’s fuck.” And now she was the one sticking her foot in her mouth. Except she was doing it to push him away, not win him over.
His laugh was strained. “I guess.”
“I’m teasing. You know that, right?” She’d spoiled the mood, and it was too late to take her comment back. The buzz inside was too nice to lose.
“I do.” He pulled away and sat up, not looking at her as he stripped off the condom and discarded it. “We should get some sleep. Long drive tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Good call.” She forced her tone to stay light, despite the sting his brush-off left.
It was better this way. One-night stands were status-quo, and Mason was just another guy. One she had to spend a few more days in a car with. No reason to let a misplaced doubt make this awkward.
*
AS THEY HEADED OUT of town the next morning, they passed a local diner that boasted $1.99 Pancakes.
Ginny nudged him. “I think I can swing that. You interested?” She was bright and chipper. It should be a relief, but it came off as forced.
“Sure.” Mason, on the other hand, struggled to stay with the conversation. He was stuck on the night before.
He pulled into an empty spot in front of the small shack, and they headed inside. The sign up front said they should seat themselves. “Come on.” Ginny grabbed his hand and tugged him toward a booth in the back.
He tried not to react to the need that whispered through him. The desire to yank her back for a kiss. Something intimate and probing like what they shared before.
Instead of indulging his rampant thoughts, he took a seat across from her.
“How far do you think we’ll make it today? I’m thinking Texas. Can you believe I’ve never been? I don’t know why not. It just never happened.” Ginny paused and looked at him.
“Probably Texas.” He should say more, but he was still stuck on their conversation. And the sex. God, the sex. Her heated skin against his. The intoxicating sounds she made when she was turned on. The way she tasted and squirmed when he buried his face between her legs.
His cock was half-hard just remembering it.
“Are there any historic or interesting stops along the way? You’ve made the trip before, right? You drove to and from Malibu? Should I have my phone ready for pictures?”
Mason wasn’t too hung up on saying the wrong thing this morning. He understood part of her point the night before, but the whole arrogance versus confidence thing felt like a massive gray area that was open to interpretation. And he suspected talking to most women wasn’t going to be as easy as talking to Ginny. Admitting that almost gave him a headache.
No, this morning he was focused on how wrong he read the entire situation last night. He’d been having some of the best sex of his life—God, how pathetic was that?—and she’d seen the exchange as so trite, she ended the entire thing with a weak joke and a brush-off.
“It was night last time I drove through. I didn’t see much.” He couldn’t summon any enthusiasm.
“Oh.” Her expression drooped, but cheer replaced it again so quickly he might as well have imagined it. “Now’s the perfect time to make up for it. Are you looking forward to it? I feel like such a tourist. But I’m excited.”
“Excited is okay.” He might get sucked into the same thing if parts of it didn’t feel forced.
He was grateful, then felt guilty about his relief, when the waitress interrupted. He and Ginny ordered the special and coffee.
“I’m thinking about collecting something,” Ginny said when the older woman was gone. “Shot glasses or hats or something like that. From truck stops across the country, and hospital gift shops. That sounds morbid, doesn’t it? But if I’m hoping to visit different places.”
“That’s cool.” He was sucking wind at this conversation thing.
The problem was, he didn’t know what last night meant. But that wasn’t quite right. It was more that he didn’t know what he wanted it to mean. Mason had never been a casual sex kind of guy, and despite their conversation about not making assumptions, he assumed Ginny didn’t have any hang-ups about it.
Was this sense of attachment because he’d never had a one-night stand before?
“You’re not here. What’s going on in your head?” she asked. Of course she’d go and be direct about it.
Might as well lay his cards on the table. Prove he’d listened when she spoke. “What was last night?”
“I...” She bit her bottom lip. “Fun?”
Not quite what he was hoping for. “I agree. Really agree.” His dick did too. “But was it more?”
Ginny stared at her fingers. “I don’t know how it could be. It was good sex. I’m not just saying that, I really liked it. But we don’t know each other.” The way she put it was so logical.
“We could get to.”
“We are. Aren’t we? We have three more days of driving ahead of us. I assume we’ll either be best friends or mortal enemies at the end.” Her laugh was strained.
See, you laugh because you want me to think it’s a joke, but part of you believes that mortal enemies bit. The thought echoed in his head in her voice. “Good point.”
So much for sorting things out. But it wasn’t as though he was ready to profess his love, and he didn’t expect her to do that either.
At the same time, he wanted assurance the sex wasn’t meaningless. That was pathetic, wasn’t it? Not at all the confidence she said was sexy. And now he cared what she thought again, and did that mean he was taking her feelings into account or trying to change for her?
These rules were so confusing.
Their food arrived. The silence wasn’t as heavy as it had been at dinner, but would all of their meals be this way? If they were going to ride a roller coaster of good and bad conversation until they hit California, they’d definitely never get to know each other.
They paid—Ginny insisted on separate checks and he didn’t argue—and headed outside.
His heart dropped into his stomach when his car wasn’t where they left it.
It wasn’t as though he forgot. The street behind the diner wasn’t a complicated lot with several rows and levels. It was a fucking street.
Everything that mattered was in that car. His laptop. His clothes. Mementos from his family.
Anger and frustration built inside until he had to bite the side of his hand to keep from yelling in rage.