So Sierra let go of everything and focused on them and the way he made her feel. Safe. Wanted. Needed. Important and vital.
A thrill of excitement swept through her as his hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress and brushed up her thighs.
Thoughts about cellulite, unshed baby weight, and pudge flew out of her head the second his hands clamped on her ass and he groaned with pure male appreciation. He effortlessly lifted her snug against him, her legs wrapping around his waist bringing her aching center into exquisite contact with his hard length. She tightened her legs and rubbed against him.
Mason broke the kiss and squeezed her ass. “You’re killing me.”
“Wait ’til I get your clothes off.”
Without a word, he gave her a searing kiss and walked out of the entry, hopefully to his room. Though she didn’t much care where they landed so long as he didn’t stop kissing and touching her.
It had been way too long since she felt like a desirable woman. It had been too long since her body felt this alive.
And she reveled in it.
Mason clamped his hands at her waist and nudged her off him. Her feet hit the floor and the backs of her legs brushed against the bed. He dipped his hands under her dress again and pulled it up and over her head. The slinky material sailed across the room and landed in a puddle, looking like a pale purple flower on the dark hardwood.
His gaze swept down, taking in her pink lace bra and the matching cheeky panties that she had to admit were well worth the splurge because they made her ass look great. The blaze of heat in his eyes said he thought so, too.
She slipped her hand inside his suit jacket and pushed it down his arms. He shrugged it off while she attacked his dress shirt buttons. He pulled the tie over his head. She took in his broad chest and wide shoulders while he undid the cuffs, took the shirt off, and tossed it.
She swept her hand from his shoulder to his pecs and over his heart. It thumped wildly against her palm. The heat from his skin seeped into hers.
Eyes locked, he sank his fingers into her hair and held her head. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Me, too.” Deep inside, she realized she had been waiting for this. For him.
They had a connection. She felt it vibrate through him and into her where her hand pressed to his chest. She felt it in the way he looked at her. She couldn’t deny that whenever they were in the same room, something drew her to him.
She’d fought it for so long.
They were friends.
That meant something to her.
But this . . . It meant so much more than she ever anticipated or expected.
So she dove in, knowing everything would be different. Better.
They’d be connected in a new way. And she hoped it turned into even more and lasted.
Her heart was ready to move on and find happiness again.
The last of their clothes disappeared in a blur of hands needing to touch flesh, their lips seeking a tempting taste, and their bodies desperate to be laid out and pressed together. When Mason rose on his hands and stared down at her, his hard shaft sinking into her beckoning core, she felt the depth of their joining all the way to her soul.
He leaned down, kissed her reverently. Time stopped and she took in the moment and branded this amazing feeling on her heart.
Then he moved and she lost herself in the rhythm, the feel of him deep inside her body and soul, remembering what it felt like to be loved and freed and lost in ecstasy and to come back to herself with a man holding her close, safe and protected and loved.
She wallowed in the heady buzz and snuggled into his side, letting the quiet surround her and the newfound joy fill her up.
She pressed a kiss to his chest. “It doesn’t get better than this.”
“I accept that challenge.”
She laughed, loving the sound of his deep, completely satisfied and sated voice, and the assurance he put into those words.
Just as she was about to fall asleep, comfortable and happy in his arms, she found herself beneath him once again, thoroughly convinced that with him, everything just got better and better.
In the morning, he proved it again.
* * *
Sierra was still smiling, every nerve still tingling with the memory of their first night together, when she knocked on her sister’s door to pick up her kids feeling like a completely new woman.
In the very back of her mind she wondered, with everything that had happened these last two years, if this abundance of joy would last or whether the other shoe would drop soon.
Chapter Twenty
Sierra stared at Amy and didn’t know what to say about her frazzled state. It had been years since she’d seen her sister in complete disarray. Hair a mess, no makeup, her eyes swollen and underscored by dark, puffy circles, she appeared to have smeared pancake batter or butter or both on her black pajama shirt. Her sister didn’t usually rub her dirty hands on her clothes. No, she’d have her handy Wet Wipes standing by for such things.
“What happened to you?” Anxiety tightened her gut. She worried Amy was in the midst of some sort of crisis.
Amy’s bloodshot eyes narrowed. “I gave up my life to have kids.”
Those kids were making a ruckus in another room down the hall.
Amy’s gaze bore into her before moving to Mason standing behind her. “Looks like you two had a good night.”
Sierra couldn’t help smiling up at Mason, thinking of the wonderful night they’d spent in each other’s arms and what it meant going forward.
Looking back at her sister, she felt a bit guilty. But not much. It was too hard not to feel this good.
Mason put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.
“Yeah, you two look cozy now, but that won’t last.” Amy swung the door open wider, revealing Rex sitting on the couch, a blanket draped haphazardly across his lap as he rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye socket. He was still wearing what looked like yesterday’s clothes: slacks and a wrinkled dress shirt. “The party’s over.”
“Amy, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I can take all the kids out to breakfast and give you and Rex some time alone.”
Amy’s eyes glassed over and filled with frustration and desperation. “I already made the pancakes.” She combed her fingers into her hair, loosening the messy topknot even more. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.” The desperate tone didn’t back up her words.
Rex turned and stared at her. “Everything is a mess.” The announcement made Amy pale.
Yes, the house looked wrecked. The kids had done a number on the living room. Toys littered the floor. The coffee table was covered in scraps of paper. A paper airplane stuck out of the leaves of a potted plant by the window. The kitchen looked like a tornado hit it. Frozen pizza boxes lay discarded on the counter. The makings for pancakes and eggs cluttered together at one end. Two pans were on the stove. And the house still smelled like burnt pizza from last night.
To Sierra, it wasn’t so bad. Messy to the eye, but easily cleaned up. But this was Amy’s house. She liked things in their place. Everything scrubbed clean and immaculate.
Amy herself looked like she was a second away from losing her shit.
Guilt settled in Sierra’s heart. She wished she’d known her sister wasn’t exaggerating about the kids running wild. Overwhelmed, Amy had lost control of the situation.