Only the Truth Read online

  He dipped his head and said softly, “You think a guy has to be drunk to want to touch you?”

  A shiver skated across my skin. His mouth was so close to mine I could lean in just a fraction and be kissing him without much effort. How would he react if I did? Would he push me away or pull me closer still? Would his kisses be full of fire and passion like I’d imagined, or would he be careful with me and take his time? “No, but I’m sure it helps.”

  Mason’s lips quirked. “How can one person be so wrong?” He dipped his hand under my hair and cradled the back of my head, working his fingers over my scalp in a way that sent tingles rushing through me. His eyes were filled with affection but as the seconds passed by his expression morphed into something more intimate and intense. I didn’t have nearly enough experience with boys—or men in this case—to know how to take his shift in mood.

  A breath stuttered from me and my skin flushed. “What are you doing?”

  His thumb swept over my temple just as the beginning notes of a new song drifted from the surround sound system. A cheer went up in the crowd, and a few guests pushed past us to make their way into the living room to dance.

  Mason paid no attention to what was going on around us. He only seemed interested in me. “Nothing,” he said, with a smile in his voice. “Not yet.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or messing with me. We may have had the kind of relationship where we took regular digs at each other, but this had gone beyond harmless fun. I wanted to pull away and create some distance, protect myself before it went too far. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.”

  His free hand drifted over my waist, clasping my hip to keep me steady while the lower half of his body bumped against mine. A subtle move, but still enough pressure to have his hardness nudging my belly, long and firm and… oh, my God.

  “Does it feel like I’m joking?”

  Relief flooded me, the excitement that followed giving me a head rush. I pushed my hips against him to experience more of the same, rewarded with his quick intake of breath. “I can’t… I don’t know what to say. Why is this happening? You’ve never—why now?”

  His husky laugh sent a wave of pleasure through me. A silent moment passed between us, then our eyes met and his gaze dropped to my mouth. “Maybe I’m tired of holding back.”

  Holding back? Since when? So many questions, but I had no desire to talk when we appeared to be on the verge of something so much more exciting. As I braced myself for what I hoped would be coming next, a hand gripped my upper arm and tugged.

  “Come dance with me, Sadie!”

  No, no, no. I closed my eyes and forced back a groan.

  My sister had the worst timing ever.

  When my lids opened again, there she stood, the epitome of sophistication. Navy blue dress, blonde hair piled high on her head. Tall and slim and so composed I always felt completely inadequate in her presence. Grey eyes much like mine implored me to ditch Mason and go spend some time with her, and while everything in me wanted to cling to him and refuse, I reminded myself it was Claire’s birthday and wouldn’t be fair to her.

  I looked up at Mason, expecting to see resigned amusement in his expression, maybe a silent promise to pick up where we’d left off later in the night. Instead his attention shifted to Claire and his jaw clenched.

  The two of them had known each other so long they’d grown as close as siblings. I’d witnessed some spectacular arguments between them over the years, sometimes to the point where I’d back out of the room and silently hope it wouldn’t be the one that finally pushed him from our lives—but it never took long for them to make up afterwards. This, though. I hadn’t seen this kind of silent, simmering tension.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, glancing from Mason to Claire.

  Claire flashed me a taut smile. “Nope. All good. I just wanted to spend some time with my little sister. Isn’t she cute tonight, Mason? Trying to look all grown up in her dress and make-up?” She patted my shoulder like she was humouring a clueless six-year-old who’d rifled through her mother’s closet, not a twenty-one-year-old woman.

  My eyes narrowed as I took her in. This was a first for me. Claire had never patronised or tried to belittle me before. She’d always been my biggest and loudest supporter.

  “Hmm. That’s our Sadie,” Mason drawled. “Cute as a fucking button.”

  Any other time a comment like that would have made me laugh, but the hostility in the air confused me. Neither of them voiced their concerns, but it was as if a torrent of words were passing between them. After several tense seconds Claire put a hand on her hip and gave him her signature raised brow, but when even that failed to get him to back down, she huffed and grabbed my arm again. “C’mon, Sadie.”

  “No.” I shook myself free from her hold and looked up at Mason, hoping I’d find a clue in his expression that might tell me what the hell was going on here. His snort of amusement and the pride in his eyes nearly made me smile, but it didn’t bring me any closer to understanding Claire’s mood.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” I told them, eager to move to safer ground, maybe try my hand at having fun since this was supposed to be a party. “I’ll let the two of you carry on with whatever’s going on here on your own. I want no part of it.”

  Little did I know I’d have no choice in the matter.

  An hour later far too many women had thrown themselves at Mason while he smiled half-heartedly and did his best to fend them off. It happened so often it was as if they’d been sent to him, on a mission to shower him with attention and distract him from me. Or maybe that was just my overactive imagination.

  Each time a new admirer headed his way, his eyes sought out mine across the room and a look of such genuine longing came over him that I almost caved and went to rescue him. I’d kept my distance after Claire interrupted our dance, though, refusing to walk into another situation like the one I’d encountered earlier, no matter how much it tormented me watching him from all the way over here.

  Now, a brunette woman called Mandy—I’d met her once months ago when I stopped by the law office where Claire worked—had her back pressed to Mason’s front, her ass rubbing his crotch with so much enthusiasm she’d end up pregnant if someone didn’t step in soon. I knew he didn’t want the attention, but it still hurt seeing him allow it when all he had to do was step around her and come to me.

  With a loud sigh, I downed the lemonade I’d been nursing for so long it had gone warm, then slid the empty glass on the dining table. There was only so much one person could stand, and I’d seen more than enough of Mason being mauled. If he wanted me, he could come get me. With a final look in his direction, I turned and headed for the hallway, torn between a time-out in the bathroom or settling in for the night in the guest bedroom.

  It was only when I’d passed by both of those doors I realised neither option appealed to me.

  When I reached the last room on the left and crossed the threshold, I ignored the voice inside me telling me to turn and run while Mason and I were still pretty much the same as we had been yesterday, and the day before that. I knew coming in here would change everything, but my curiosity had taken on a life of its own and I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to find out what came next.

  I slipped off my shoes beside the nightstand and blew the hair from my eyes. My heart thumped like mad at first, but as I took in the cluttered desk, rumpled sheets and the glow coming from the bedside lamp, the warm, inviting feel helped me relax.

  Mason had been a sports photographer for years now, and he’d decorated the main expanse of wall with his framed work. Dirt bikes floating mid-air, race cars drifting past cheering crowds, a group abseiling down a vertigo-inspiring cliff face.

  A series of scrawled notes were thumb-tacked to a cork board above his desk, and a lone photo peeked out from the centre of it all. I knew it featured Claire, Andy, Mason and me; I had the same picture wedged into the frame of my dressing table mirror back
at home—but on Mason’s cork board, the notes scattered around it blocked everything from view except the two of us. Funny how something so simple could feel so big.

  I heard a movement behind me and turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb, his blue eyes locked on me. The corner of his mouth lifted, and I smiled back, taking in all the details that made up the man I’d grown to want more than anything. Music thumped in the main part of the house and the yellow light from the hallway poured in around him. He looked so dark and gorgeous it took all my willpower not to rush over to him.

  His gaze flicked from the bed to my bare feet, then cruised over my body in a way that left me feeling like I’d just been touched. “Hmm… Sadie Addison. What are you doing in my room?”

  My stomach fluttered despite the humour in his tone. “Uh, trying to find your penguin?”

  He let out a huff of amusement. “If you wanted to see it, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Will you please show me your penguin, Mason?” Apparently, I could still channel my inner smart-ass even when it felt like my world was tumbling in around me.

  He laughed in that way of his that made me want to beg him to do it again. His eyes didn’t stray from mine, as if challenging me to be straight with him. “Why are you really here?”

  When he looked at me like that I had no option but to tell him the truth. It wasn’t even a conscious choice I had to make. He just had this way of pulling it out of me. “I guess I was hoping to lure you in here, away from Mandy and the others. I didn’t like the way they were touching you.”

  Admiration shined in his eyes. He pushed off the doorway and straightened. “If it’s any consolation, her ass wasn’t the one I wanted rubbing against me.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I could have backed down and feigned disinterest, shielded myself and kept admiring him from a distance. It would have been the smartest thing to do if I wanted to put a stop to all this awful pounding in my chest. I couldn’t do it, though. Not now we were being so open with each other. “I still didn’t like it.”

  Mason kept his attention on me as he reached behind his back to close and lock the door. I tried not to get too excited about the intensity in his eyes or the fact that he wanted privacy for whatever was about to go down in here.

  “Are you trying to keep me in or the cock-blocker out?” I asked.

  His eyes gleamed with humour and something else. Something a touch feral. He shook his head and smiled. “Can’t it be both?”

  As he walked toward me, the sight of all that smooth male grace made me want to tear off his t-shirt and shove him onto the bed. The quiet that descended didn’t exactly help the situation either. Instead of being soothing like it often was for me, it only allowed me to focus on the roar of blood in my ears and the pulsing between my thighs.

  He stopped before me then and his presence just… it filled the room. I tipped my head to stare up at him, my breaths coming faster now that we were within touching distance. The hour between that fleeting moment on the dance floor and now had stretched on like a lifetime.

  He took in the rise and fall of my chest, the way my body swayed toward him of its own accord. His mouth quirked, but I didn’t get the feeling he was laughing at me. “No interruptions this time around.”

  I pulled in a breath and blew it out on a loud sigh. “I still don’t understand why Claire jumped in last time, or what’s going on here.”

  A troubled look flashed across his face before it was gone again. “Can we talk about your sister later?”

  I nodded. We had the rest of night after all, and there were more important things we could be focusing on. “Why don’t we talk about you instead?”

  His attention dropped to my mouth. “Or not talk at all.”

  Tempting. So, so tempting. I’d waited years for this moment. If he knew how often I’d thought about him and wished for something that had always seemed like it would be out of reach, it would probably have sent him running. “I just need to know something first. Why me? You’ve been with so many women. You could have almost anyone you want.”

  Crap. I wanted to take back my comment as soon as it left my mouth. Suggesting he was a man-whore wouldn’t bring us closer together. It would only make him question whether I was too immature to be with him in this way—and I didn’t even believe it anyway, not after I’d seen his behaviour tonight.

  He glanced over the top of my head then met my eyes again, appearing equal parts frustrated and disappointed. “You know me, Sadie. You have to know those were mostly rumours.”

  I thought about those crazy dance moves of his that I now realised had been designed to keep women at arms’ length, his laughing rebuffs so none of them wouldn’t take offense, sometimes wouldn’t even realise they’d been rejected. His methods were so subtle they hadn’t registered. For someone who’d paid so much attention to the guy, I couldn’t believe I’d missed the signs.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” My gaze lowered to the smooth, tanned column of his throat, but it turned out to be a mistake because all I could do was imagine how warm his skin would feel beneath my lips. “When they started a few years ago,” I asked, lifting my eyes to find him watching me, “did you like the attention? It must have been fun having women throw themselves at you.”

  Mason moved past me, and I turned around just as he was taking a seat on the bed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Not gonna lie,” he said, looking up at me. “Whoever kicked them off created a nice distraction at the time, but now...” He stared at his hands and rubbed an invisible spot on the back of his thumb. “I’m so fucking tired of being polite to women who only want to grab my dick or proposition me.”

  My mind filled with images of women just like the ones who’d been all over him tonight, doing whatever they wanted without caring if he appreciated the attention. He’d always been so popular with girls it seemed no one had ever stopped to question it. I hated the fact that I’d assumed the same thing about him, too. “You need a girlfriend to protect you and tell them all to back off.”

  “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  My heart gave a hard, heavy thump. “Are you offering a position?”

  Instead of giving me the answer I craved, Mason grabbed my wrist and pulled me between his widespread thighs. He wrapped his arms around my waist and engulfed me in a hug so warm and perfect I could have stayed like that forever. I leaned against him and stroked the hair at the back of his head, letting the silky strands sift through my fingers.

  His hold on me strengthened for a split second then relaxed again. “Got a bra on under there, Sadie-girl?”

  A stupid grin tried to break free. “No.”

  “Thought so.” He rubbed his cheek against my breasts. “Feels nice.”

  Even through a layer of material I shivered at the sensation of his roughened cheek brushing across my nipples. “They’re kind of small,” I pointed out, unsure why I felt the need to volunteer information he could clearly figure out for himself.

  He lifted his head and shot me a look. “Shut up. They’re perfect.”

  I smiled and looked him over, taking in his thick brows and striking blue eyes, his sensual lips and the layer of stubble creating the shadow on his jawline. He’d appealed to me for such a long time now, but tonight my attraction to him had transformed into something so much stronger. “Thanks,” I said. “I guess I’ll just take your word for it.”

  “You should. If anyone knows tits, it’s the guy who’s fucked his way through half of Melbourne.”

  My lips pressed together to keep my laughter inside. I gave his shoulder a playful shove. “You’re an ass. And I apologised for that. As soon as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true.”

  Mason’s eyes shined with amusement. “I don’t know…” His thumb swept back and forth over my ribcage, just beneath my breast, a whisper of a touch that never quite made contact where I hoped it would. “Not sure I believe that. How sorry are you?”

  “Ve
ry.” His teasing was maddening and exciting, distracting and addictive. I could have grabbed his hand and moved it to the place where I wanted it most, but the idea of letting him go at his own pace held more appeal.

  “Show me.”

  His voice had taken on a husky edge, making me want to do just what he’d said—to take and take until he’d filled up all my empty spaces and all I could feel was him. I trailed my fingertips over his jaw, rubbing the shallow dip in his chin with my thumb. Instead of immersing myself in those sensations, I asked the one question I worried might stand in the way of me and my happiness. “Mason, have you… have you ever slept with a virgin before?”

  We were pressed so close together I felt the ripple of surprise that moved through him. He looked at me for a long moment, then answered with a simple, “No.”

  “Would you?”

  I wanted him to be my first, and in a perfect world he’d be my last, but that wasn’t the kind of news you shared with a man after you’d just crossed the line from friendship to something more complicated. And to be clear, I didn’t care about my lack of experience. I just wanted to know if it bothered him. He was seven years older than me and spent time with women who knew what they were doing. How to challenge him, how to turn him on. Maybe I wouldn’t be exciting enough.

  His gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth then back again. “Are you a virgin, Sadie?”

  I swallowed and nodded.

  “And you think… what? I’ll see it as a negative thing? It’ll make me lose interest in you?”

  “I don’t know.” But I did. He’d just voiced my exact thoughts. My gaze shifted to safer ground and his thumb kept moving over my ribs in those slow, deliberate strokes.

  I could still feel him watching me, patiently taking everything in before he spoke again. Mason waited for me to look at him. When I did his eyes were filled with affection and the bond between us seemed even more intense. “How could you ever think I’d be turned off by that?”

  “Because I don’t know what I’m doing. Because you’ve been with experienced women.”