Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3 Page 2

  “You mean loosen up their tongues so they start telling you all their dirty little secrets, don’t you, Tori?” Celia winked at the older woman, who had the good grace to blush.

  She swatted Celia’s arm. “For that, young lady, you can go down to the basement and fetch more champagne.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Celia saluted her with her glass before she set it on the table. A few minutes away from the lovefest would be a bit of a relief.

  Tori cast a severe glance at Mason. “And you’ll be a gentleman and help her.”

  His dark brows rose, his eyes twinkling with sudden humor. He bowed gallantly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She snagged his champagne flute and flapped her free hand at him. “Go on, now. Don’t tease an innocent, harmless old lady.”

  He laughed in her face, grabbed the hand she waved at him, and kissed the back of it. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

  Sweeping an arm out in front of him, he motioned Celia forward. She rolled her eyes at their antics and spun toward the kitchen. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Let Aubrey know if she wonders where I’ve disappeared to, would you?”

  “I will.”

  Mason fell into step behind her, close enough that she could feel his body heat against her back. They entered the kitchen, and he reached around her to open the cellar door. “You realize she’s trying to get us alone together.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. C isn’t exactly subtle.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, the little grin on his lips making her heart trip. Desire twisted within her. She wanted those lips on hers, had wanted it for months. She shook herself, turned away and flipped on the switch to flood the basement with light. Hustling down the stairs, she looked around for the case of champagne. What looked like a beat up and discarded set of living room furniture was pushed up against one wall, a few tarnished silver dishes on the coffee table. Boxes and crates were piled haphazardly all over the place, one of them marked with the brand of bubbly Mrs. Chambers was serving. “I’ve resisted you for a year, Delacroix. I don’t think an old lady’s matchmaking is going to change that.”

  His heavy tread echoed as he followed her down the steps. “I don’t encourage her. I only encouraged you.”

  “You don’t discourage her, either.” She pointed him toward the wooden crate of champagne.

  He snorted as he waved her aside and lifted the case by himself, the muscles in his arms bulging. “As if I could. She has her nose in everyone’s business, but she’s not hurting anyone. Some people are vicious with gossip—she just likes to know everything. Besides, it’s not like she can force you to do anything with me, right?”

  “Right.” She sighed. “She’s pretty harmless, I know. It’s just a little annoying at times. I’m ready for her to stick her nose in someone else’s love life now. Is that too much to ask?”

  The door above them slammed shut, a distinct click sounding as a lock engaged.

  Mason’s jaw sagged open for a moment, and he set the champagne back down with a loud thunk. “Oh, no fucking way. She wouldn’t.”

  “Shit!” Celia bolted up the stairs, twisting the doorknob, though she knew it was useless. She pounded her fist on the door, disbelief and desperation screaming through her. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. “Come on, Mrs. Chambers. This isn’t funny.”

  “There’s no way out of there except through this door, so don’t bother trying to find one. You’re trapped until we say otherwise.” Jerry’s distinctive lisp came through the thick wood. “Take the opportunity to get to know each other. It’ll be fun!”

  Chapter Two

  “You are fired, Jerry.” She kicked the door with her combat boot for good measure, though she knew none of the guests would hear over the music, and her evil cupids wouldn’t care. She stomped down a few of the stairs before turning to shout even louder, just for the pleasure of venting her spleen. “The moment I get out of here, you’re getting booted from my salon, Jerry! Believe it. And Tori can get her hair done somewhere else!”

  There was no response, of course, and all she could do was stare at the door in impotent rage, willing it to open and knowing it wouldn’t. She was stuck here. Trapped. She closed her eyes. “I don’t have my cell phone with me. It’s in my purse, which Jerry put away in a spare room when I got here.”

  “My cell’s in my coat pocket, and Mrs. Chambers took that. All I have is my work pager.”

  Frustration tangled with…fear in her chest. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Mason. She’d done everything in her power in the last year to make sure that never happened. Her fingers balled into fists at her sides. Damn it. Damn them. And their meddling.

  She turned and found him right behind her. Scrabbling backward to keep from touching him, the backs of her calves hit the next stair up, and she tripped and slammed into the railing sideways. Her arms flailed, her heart stopping in her chest, a short scream wrenching from her throat, and she would have gone over the rail if he hadn’t grabbed her. She hung there for a moment, staring at the long drop down to the hard cement floor. All the blood rushed out of her face so fast, it tingled with cold shock.

  He hauled her up against his chest, lifted her and spun to press her against the wall. Which meant she ended up exactly where she hadn’t wanted to be. In his arms. “Are you all right?”

  No, she wasn’t. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. She couldn’t even breathe, her heart slammed so hard against her sternum. The chill fled her limbs in a split-second, the fire that flooded her as shocking as her near tragedy.

  Clenching her fingers in the front of his shirt, she shuddered, too many sensations bombarding her at once. Terror still made her shake, but God, she was plastered against him from breast to thigh and her nerve endings rioted. Every inch of her reacted to him. Her skin flushed, her nipples tightened to thrust against her bra and the folds of her sex went hot and slick.

  Somehow, she had known it would be this intense. If standing next to him or cutting his hair could rev her up, being sandwiched between the hard wall and his hard body was enough to cause a nuclear meltdown.

  “I’m fine, thanks. You can let me go now.” It took everything ounce of willpower she had to gasp those two short sentences.

  His gaze locked on her lips as she spoke. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” The words came out in a rush, almost tripping over each other.

  He drew in a deep breath, which rubbed her breasts against his chest. God, she could feel every ripple of muscle in his body. He was even better built than she’d imagined. “I can’t let you go when you’re looking at me like that. I’ve been dying to taste you for months, and I have to know what it’s like. I’m sorry.”

  Any response she might have made was smothered by his mouth. She tensed, waiting to be all but consumed, devoured, taken. It didn’t happen.

  His kiss was a gentle savoring. The way his body pressed her into the wall, hard enough to compress her ribs, became an erotic contrast to the sweetness of his lips on hers. His tongue teased her lower lip, easing into her mouth. The flavor of him exploded over her taste buds, headier than the champagne they’d drunk. Any resistance fled under the onslaught of yearning. She moaned, twining her tongue with his, fighting with him for control of the kiss.

  Straining against him, she writhed to get even closer. He groaned, releasing her mouth to string kisses down her jaw and throat. She let her head fall back against the wall, arching mindlessly when his teeth scored the sensitive tendon that connected neck to shoulder.

  “Mason, please.” She cupped the back of his head, holding him to her. His short hair prickled her palms, and she dug her nails into his scalp, desperate for more. “More.”

  Unfastening the side zipper on her dress, he slipped his hand inside to stroke her ribs. She shivered, her nipples pinching tight. She wanted his mouth on them, but she couldn’t make her mind and her tongue work together to form the demand.

  Slipping dow
n to bracket her hips with his palms, he gathered her dress one handful at a time. His fingertips brushed her skin, tracing the edge of her panties. Her flesh burned everywhere their bodies met, her pussy weeping juices. It was too much, and not enough, all at the same time. The more he touched her, the more she craved it. Him.

  “I want you, Celia. Now.” His arms went around her again, pulling her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, mating her sex with his through their clothing. His palms curved under her ass, squeezing the soft globes and making her squirm against him. He groaned and staggered down the rest of the stairs. Each step rubbed his cock over her pussy, and her core contracted on an emptiness that needed to be filled.

  The couch cushions were soft under her back as he laid her there. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the champagne bottle protruding out of one of the silver bowls. It was chilling on ice, and two glasses sat beside it. Turning her head, she saw strawberries in another dish and some of the hors d'oeuvres from the party piled in another. The final bowl was filled with a colorful array of condoms.

  A note card propped against the strawberry container read:

  Kick back and have all the fun you can manage. You might as well since we aren’t springing you until morning. Love, Your Guardian Angels.

  The handwriting was in Jerry’s distinctive scrawl. Celia snorted and rolled her eyes. “Guardian angels, my ass. Prison guards is more like it.”

  Mason barely glanced at the offerings. “I have better things to worry about than an old lady and a gay hairdresser right now.”

  He leaned away from her, his faced flushed with lust, his skin drawn taut across his sharp cheekbones. His jaw clenched, his gaze intent as he stripped her bare. Tugging her dress away from her shoulders, he slipped it down her body.

  “Lift your hips,” he whispered.

  She did, arching off the sofa. He drew her dress and sheer black panties down her thighs, over her boots and off her legs. He tossed them behind him and paused as he took in her equally sheer mesh bra and black lacy thigh high stockings. He grinned and shook his head. Then he worked on her bra, unhooking the clasp at the front and helping her pull it off her arms.

  “The boots and stockings can stay. They’re sexy.” He bent forward and kissed her calf just above the top of one boot.

  It was a moment that could have come straight out of every fantasy she’d ever had about him. She swallowed. “Maybe this isn’t such a good—”

  “Nuh-uh. No backing out now.” Bending farther, he buried his face in the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs. His tongue dipped in, flicking over her clit.

  Shock sizzled through her system, and he pressed her thighs flat to the cushions, taking as much access as he could get. His mouth settled on her clit and sucked hard, and she cried out. Fire danced over her skin, and still it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. Her hands curved around her breasts, fingers circling her nipples. It added another layer to the overwhelming sensations, and she wanted more.

  He pulled back, his eyes wild, her wetness glistening on his lips. “I have to have you now.”

  The man stripped in a few seconds, dropping his pager to the table before his clothes hit the floor. She would have teased him about his eagerness, but she was more than ready for him to be naked. And inside her. His bare body was as tightly muscled as she’d imagined, a thin sprinkling of hair bisecting his chest and trailing down to the hard curve of his cock. He was big. It was the only thought she had before he tore open one of the condoms, slid it on with rough efficiency and was on top of her, his thighs wedging hers open wider. The smooth head of his dick probed at her pussy, and she shoved upward. She couldn’t wait, she needed him moving within her. He filled her, stretched her to the limits and then some.

  A low cry burst from her throat, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Her nails dug into his flesh as she struggled to accommodate his girth. When he was seated to the hilt inside her, he groaned, his arms shaking as they braced on either side of her. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, renewed urgency beginning to wind inside her, the sharpness of it a blade that shredded her control. Her grip tightened on his shoulders, her hips undulating in a mindless drive to communicate her need. “Don’t stop.”

  His laugh was harsh. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure I could.”

  Rocking his pelvis against her, he drove her to madness. She wrapped her legs around his lean hips. Her body bowed, trying to take him deeper, make him move faster, anything that would grant her the surcease only he could give her. Squeezing her inner muscles around his cock, she smiled when he shuddered and groaned. And thrust hard, giving her what she craved.

  He did it again. And again, picking up speed and force with each entry. Pleasure exploded through her when he slammed into her body, their flesh slapping, the carnal sound of sex echoing in the basement. He dipped down to capture her lips, his tongue thrusting into her mouth with the same rhythm his body set for hers. She moaned and slid her palms over his flexing his arms and shoulders, loving the play of his rougher skin against hers, loving the way they moved together. The way the hair on his chest rasped across her nipples, his musky masculine scent filled her nostrils, his hips rubbed hard against her clit, his mouth worshipped hers—it drove her closer and closer to climax.

  God, it was incredible, just as she’d always feared it would be.

  Each time he pushed his long dick into her pussy, her channel spasmed. She could feel her orgasm building. Sweat slipped down her skin, her lungs burning as she sucked in oxygen. Pleasure flowed through her in waves, gaining force until it was a tsunami that threatened to drag her under. She clung to him, to sanity. It was too much to handle, terrifying and beautiful all at once. Her nails dug into his back and he hissed, pounding his cock into her sex, pushing them both over the edge.

  When he ground down into her clit, she exploded into orgasm. A scream ripped from her throat, lost under the commanding pressure of his mouth on hers. There was no escaping the shattering ecstasy of it. Her pussy flexed around his cock, again and again. Tingles broke down her skin, her body consumed by sensations that were too hot to contain.

  He shoved deep inside her, deeper than he’d been before, and she screamed and came again. He threw his head back and froze above her, shuddering as orgasm took him as well. “Celia!”

  A moan was the only response she could make. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy weight crushing her into the couch cushions. It felt good. She ran her fingertips up and down his back as the dampness evaporated from their skin, as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal. Time drifted, everything hazy with repletion. He stroked her bare hip, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck. His warm breath against her skin made her sigh.

  He groaned and slid his softening cock out of her. A shiver she couldn’t stop coursed through her at the glide of flesh. He swallowed as he sat beside her hip on the couch. His hand curved around her thigh, his gaze looking a little blurry and shell shocked. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. You?”

  “Yeah.” He blinked and a satiated grin curved his lips. “Definitely.”

  “Well, okay then.”

  Rubbing his thumb across the top of her leg, he glanced around and sighed when he spotted the bathroom door. He bent forward and brushed a kiss just above her navel. “I’m going to clean up. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” She sat up and watched him walk toward the small half-bath, his buttocks flexing with every step. Damn, he was a good-looking man.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be kicking her own ass for giving in to temptation, for not telling him no. He would have listened if she’d insisted, she knew he would have, but the bottom line was, she’d wanted this for a long time. She just hadn’t wanted the emotional complications that might come along with it.

  Well, too late for regrets.

  She shook her head at herself and reached for one of the strawberrie
s. If she were stuck here for the night, she’d enjoy the moment and worry about the morning when it arrived. It would get here sooner than she’d like, and then she’d deal the consequences of tonight’s choices. She didn’t want to think about it now. At all.

  The fruit’s flavor burst inside her mouth, the sweet pulp and seeds melting on her tongue. She closed her eyes and sighed, savoring the simple act of chewing. It was a pure, sensual experience, like everything else since they’d been locked down here.

  A choked sound made her eyes fly open. Mason stood in the bathroom doorway, his gaze locked on her mouth. His face was tight with lust, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “I’ve never gotten hard just watching someone eat a strawberry.”

  He wasn’t lying. His erection curved to just below his navel, and her sex fisted looking at him. He strode toward her, his gaze glinting with a promise she now knew he could more than fulfill. She shuddered, heat swamped her and renewed moisture flooded her pussy. If he’d never been turned on watching someone eat, she’d never gotten hot watching a man move across the room.

  But, Jesus. The man was a walking felony, and she could appreciate it more now that he wasn’t on top of her. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his legs long and thick—his entire body was a tightly packed symphony of muscle. Heavy pecs were sprinkled with dark hair, and she wanted to lick those flat brown nipples. His abs formed hard ridges that her fingers itched to stroke.

  She curled her fingers into balls to keep from touching him as something occurred to her. She nodded toward his pager. “Don’t you have to go in to work at a god-awful time in the morning? What if they don’t let us out in time?”

  “I’m not really thinking about work right now.” He huffed out a laugh, gesturing down at his aroused body. “But since you’re interested, I have tomorrow off.”