I couldn’t move. I hung onto the headboard, panting for breath. My body was still trembling as the waves kept coming.
I shook my head. I couldn’t even attempt to speak. I’d been weakened by that climax, but then he slid a hand in front of me and I was lifted into the air. Curling into him, my arms wound around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist. His hands gripped my ass now as he moved from the bed. Mason carried me to the bathroom and tested the water before he stepped underneath. I hung onto him, clinging like a monkey as he washed his hair and then mine. When his fingers started to massage my scalp and he rinsed the shampoo from my hair, I closed my eyes. I enjoyed every last minute of his attention.
I loved him.
A feeling of contentment swept over me, and I could’ve hung onto him until next week. However, after washing both of us, he moved me back to the counter and I unhooked myself, giving him a rueful grin as he tossed me a towel. When he started to dry himself off, I didn’t do a thing. I just watched. My eyes drank in the sight of him.
Broad shoulders. Every muscle defined, all the way down to his abdominals and obliques. Even the muscles in his legs bulged and shifted as he bent low to dry the rest of him. A trim waist. Angular cheekbones. Luscious eyelashes that covered his emerald eyes and lips that a girl would die for. Not me. I just died to touch them and feel them against mine.
I let out a deep breath. I was addicted to him.
He grinned as his eyes darkened. He knew exactly what I was thinking or feeling. He asked, “Are you going to get ready?”
“Sure. When my legs can work again. What was that?”
“That,” he moved closer, pulling the towel from me, “was the best way to start my last semester.”
I flinched as if a cold bucket of water was dumped on me. Those words left me cold. Plucking the towel from him, I hopped off the counter and shoved past him to the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” He followed me.
“That was the best way to start your last semester?” I dried myself off and stopped to glare at him. Seriously? He was an idiot. “Screw you.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “You just did.”
“Not funny, Mason.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Just to college. I’m not going forever.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my back. Says you, you big ass. Just to college. It’s not that simple.
“Wait, are you really mad at me?”
Ignoring him, I grabbed some underwear, jeans, a bra and a shirt. Stopping once, I glanced in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable—I’d do. My dark hair hadn’t been cut so it fell below my shoulders. I’d twist it up in a braid later, but the jeans and shirt were snug. Good. I didn’t care if every inch of me was on display. The jeans were washed out, but clung to me and my shirt was a simple long-sleeve white shirt. The front dipped low, giving a good view of my cle**age, and my black lace bra showed through the thin material, but I didn’t care. Mason was just going to college, my ass. Still ignoring him, I grabbed my backpack and purse. Stuffing the purse inside of the bag, I brushed past him and headed downstairs. As I got into the kitchen, Logan was just putting the coffee pot back on the burner. He turned and stopped. Seeing me when I entered, his eyes went wide and a low wolf whistle came next.
“You’re smoking, Sam.” He gave me a wicked grin. “Mason must’ve pissed you off, huh?”
“I know I look pissed.”
“Nah.” He shook his head, his brown locks had been gelled to perfection. “You’re smoking hot. I know you’re mad because you got that cold as ice look in your eye you always get when you are, but that’s not what I meant. You only come out looking hot as hell when my big bro’s pissed you off.” Checking his watch, he whistled again. “That was fast because I just heard you two going at it like wild animals.”
Oh. Jeezus. Flushing, I ignored his comments and gestured to the coffee pot. “Are you going to start that?”
“Nope. It doesn’t work.”
This morning went from great to crap. “Oh.”
Grabbing his keys, Logan dangled them at me. “But if we leave now, we can stop at The Quickie. I need to get gas anyway.”
Mason was coming down the stairs as we moved past them. He was pulling his shirt down, and I tried not to watch the movement of his abdominals or how his jeans rode low on his narrow hips. He paused when he saw us. “Where are you guys going?”
My lips were pressed tight together, and Logan smirked from behind me. He shook his head. “Whatever you said must’ve been good. You pissed your woman off. Not a good move, not on the first day of the semester.”
Wincing at how close his words hit the target, I gritted my teeth and shoved out the door.
Mason called after me, “Sam.”
He looked ready to say something else, glanced at Logan and closed his mouth.
It didn’t matter. I didn’t want to hear it. “The coffee pot’s broken. I’m going with Logan to get some. Did you want some too? I can serve it to you, another thing to add to the ‘best way to start your last semester.’” A ball of anger rolled over me.
“Come on …” An apology flashed in those emerald eyes of his.
“You said that?” Logan chuckled. “Dumb move, dipshit.”