Forever Love: A Novella Collection, page 34
He stills to listen, and his entire body goes rigid when we both hear something that sounds like a fan opening or a sheet being snapped before it’s shaken out.
He pulls out of me and turns in one lightning-fast motion, his arm going back to shield me from whoever is in the yard. I’m stunned when he lets out a snort of laughter.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “It’s just my neighbor’s bird. Garrett warned me this could happen.”
Said bird must be the size of a medium-sized dog because that fanning sound wasn’t that of a little bird. Sitting up, I reach for my sweater and pull it over my head before I peer around Mason. My jaw drops and my eyes damn near pop out when I see a big, beautiful peacock standing about four feet from the lounger we’re on. His plumage is extended and he’s staring at us expectantly, like he’s waiting for applause.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “He’s beautiful.”
The bird caws and looks proud as he starts turning in a circle to show off his feathers.
Just that quickly, something that was teasing my brain earlier makes sense. “Oh my God!” I squeak. “This is Elvis, isn’t it?”
Mason pauses in the process of reaching for his shirt. Turning, he raises a brow. “How do you know Elvis?” he asks.
“I don’t know him know him.” I laugh. “But when I was in the kitchen earlier, something about it seemed really familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but seeing him just brought it all together. His mom is Emery Bellerose and her best friend Kaya used to post videos she filmed in the kitchen on Kaya’s Korner, her YouTube channel.”
Mason laughs as he pulls the shirt over his head before pulling on his boxers and jeans in one smooth move. “Yep, that’s this house. Emery and Kaya wound up marrying—”
“Billionaire brothers,” I interrupt. “I thought they lived in Spain, though.”
He nods as he hands me my underwear and pants. “They spend a few weeks here a year. It’s a little scary that I met the big guy for the first time yesterday and you know more about his life than I do.”
“Carly’s a little obsessed.” I laugh again. “She loved Kaya’s channel and was also a huge fan of Emery’s show, Bytes.”
A smile spreads across my face as I realize the perfect revenge for the date she’d sent me on was literally standing right in front of me.
“I’m going to put the rest of my clothes on. While I do, you need to go inside and get my phone because I’ve got to get a photo of me with Elvis. Carly is going to die when I tell her I was in the kitchen Kaya did some of her best cooking in, but nothing will top the jealousy a picture with Elvis is going to cause.”
Mason laughs, his eyes alight with understanding. Carly loves reality TV and celebrities. That I’m within touching distance of the world’s coolest bird is going to eat her up.
Once I’m dressed and Mason has assured me that my hair doesn’t look like I just got fucked on the lounger, I squat down at Elvis’ side and smile at the camera. The peacock is just as cool as I knew he would be, because he poses with his plumage out, his gaze right on the iPhone as Mason snaps a bunch of pictures. We’re only just finished when I hear a Spanish-accented voice call out from the other side of the wall.
“Elvis, Mommy wants you. Jasinda needs a feather dance.”
The way the bird folds up his feathers and races for the wall is the cutest thing ever. I watch in awe as he flies up and perches on the edge of the wall, stopping to look back over his shoulder at us for a second before he flies off to the other side. Coolest celebrity sighting ever.
After Mason hands me my phone, he links his free hand with mine and takes me inside. After locking the doors, he guides me upstairs into the bedroom.
6
“Time to wake up, angel. We need to eat.”
I groan as I roll from my side, where I’ve been curled up against Mason all night, on to my stomach and bury my face beneath a pillow.
“Too tired to chew,” I grumble.
Mason’s sensual chuckle teases my senses. After making love in the yard, we’d had sex two more times in his bed before I passed out from exhaustion. My body aches in the best way, the aftereffects of a night spent reacquainting myself with my favorite man.
The mattress shifts a bit when he moves and I groan as he pulls the comforter off, exposing my naked body to the cool bedroom air. The sensation of his breath against my back causes my pulse to spike. When he starts dropping soft kisses up the middle of my spine, I shiver.
“You’re not playing fair.”
He laughs. “It’s my job to take care of you.”
I open my lips to respond, but lose my train of thought when he sets his hands at my waist and starts slowly moving them up my back. For the next few minutes, I melt into the mattress as he massages my back. The way his magical fingers work me over causes a languid type of arousal to spread through my body, a slow burn that could morph into an inferno at any moment.
When his hands go to my ass and he begins to trace his fingers up and down each side, my breath hitches. This massage is both thorough and maddening in that I want it to go on forever, but I also want him to take it to the next level. I groan when he slides one of his fingers between my legs. The growly noise he makes when he finds that I’m already wet makes my core clench.
“Sit up,” he rasps.
I make a production of bringing my legs up so I can get on my knees and sit up. Pushing my hair back, I lick my lips when I see that he’s watching me like a lion would study its prey. Hungry, and ready to pounce at any moment.
I flutter my eyelashes dramatically and grin. “Is it time to eat?” I ask, my tone teasing.
He moves so fast I barely have time to take a breath. One second I’m sitting next to him. The next, he’s lifting me up and settling me on top of him so that my legs are on either side of his head. I’m facing his cock, which means I’ll be able to suck him while he eats me out.
“Mas—”
I lose the ability to speak when he grips my waist, pulls me down so that I’m literally on his face, and traces his tongue up and down my sex. “Oh God,” I whimper.
He knows just when and where to touch me to get the response he wants, and I can’t keep my hips still. I shamelessly rock against his face as he tongues me, the heat of his mouth against my pussy almost more than I can stand. He lets go of one side of my waist, and I quickly realize why when he pushes two fingers inside of me. Needing something to focus on besides my aching clit, I lean forward and trace my tongue over the fat head of his perfect cock. The hum of approval he makes against my sex is all the encouragement I need.
Opening my mouth, I slowly draw him inside. With my right hand, I grip the bottom portion of his shaft and start jerking him up and down so that every inch of him is being worked over. His tongue against my clit goes from feather soft to firm and intense, and I moan around his tip as he fucks me with his fingers.
I struggle to think as I suck his cock and ride his face, the race to come officially on. Opening my mouth wider, I move down and take him in until the head of his cock makes contact with the back of my throat. Breathing through my nose, I push a little more, the ragged sound of his breathing like music to my ears. Letting go, I slide back up before descending again, repeating the motion over and over again.
His fingers press against the spot inside of me that lights me up every damn time, and I rock my hips back and forth in time with my up and down movements on his cock. When he starts rocking his fingers up and down on the spot, I lose it. Unable to keep sucking, I pop off his cock, sit up straight with my hands balanced on his stomach, and yell his name as I come. When he sucks my clit into his mouth, I throw my head back and scream as my orgasm goes to the next level. Through it all he keeps rocking those fingers in and out in that almost-too-fast motion that’s making me lose my mind.
Still shivering with aftershocks, I’m barely cognizant of the fact that he’s repositioning me so that I’m on my side. Spooning himself behind me, he fists his cock and traces the tip against my wet opening before he starts a slow, delicious slide in. Buried to the hilt, he lifts my right left and pulls it back over his so that I’m spread wide. I blindly claw at the sheets as he pumps his hips and the slap slap slap of skin against skin fills the room.
“Fucking love your tight little cunt,” he growls.
“Mason,” I whimper.
The sensation of his breath across my skin when he buries his face into the crook of my neck makes me quiver. “Only you, angel. Now and forever, only you.”
My body locks up when he says the word forever. Mouth open wide, my clit pulses as I come so hard I see stars. Mason bites down and sucks on the spot between my neck and my shoulder as his hips piston into me, each thrust prolonging the strength and my orgasm. When he lifts his head, bellows my name, and I feel that first jolt of his heated release inside of me, my pussy clenches around his thick length.
We’re all groans and gasps, bucking our bodies against one another as we ride the waves of release. When it’s over, Mason pulls out and then wraps his arms around me before he rolls onto his back. With my back to his chest, I focus on the feeling of the two of us breathing in tandem as I stare at the ceiling.
“Rory,” he says huskily.
“Yeah?”
“Roll over and look at me.”
It takes a minute for me to comply since I’m on top of him, but with his help I’m soon wrapped in his arms and staring into his eyes.
“Needed those pretty eyes on mine when I said this for the first time.”
My heartbeat was slowing down, but now it immediately starts racing again.
“I love you, angel.”
Holy. Wow. I’m rendered speechless by an onslaught of emotion. I’ve dreamt about hearing those three words from him, but the truth is, I never realized just how amazing it would be.
“Baby?” he asks, a hint of anxiety in his tone.
“I love you too,” I assure him.
And I do. So, so much. It hurt like hell when I believed we were over for good. I’ve never experienced that kind of emotional anguish over another person. Now I realize that’s because I’ve never felt this way about someone before. Mason is everything to me.
“Glad we got that out,” he murmurs. “Get ready for me to tell you how much I love you every day from here on out.”
I’m looking forward to it.
The End
Want to meet Elvis the peacock and find out what kind of matchmaker he is? Check out I Want
Bonus Short Story: Snapped
Copyright
Snapped
© 2018 Ella Fox
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
1
Anya
“Would you like to explain where my copy of the monthly status report is, Miss Sims?
I stiffened as Devlin Fitzpatrick, better known as the overbearing asshole who signed my paychecks, stopped next to my desk. I ached to tell him to go pound sand but fortunately found the will to hold the impulse in check. Again.
I’d made sure to be in the copy room when he arrived to avoid seeing him but clearly, my luck had just run out. Damn. For the last six weeks, I’d been averaging forty-two minutes of Devlin free time each morning before there was a face-to-face. Leave it to him to ruin the streak.
“Good morning, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I sent out the usual email to all of the other attorneys and put the hard copy on your desk,” I said in my most cheerful voice.
“Do you honestly think if I had the report I’d be wasting my time out here asking you where it is?”
His caustic attitude made it nearly impossible not to mouth off. “I couldn’t say if you’d be out here or not,” I answered, “since I’m positive that the report is right on your desk. Perhaps you missed it?”
I heard Devlin’s teeth grind together as his umber-colored eyes narrowed. “I assure you I didn’t miss it. Since you’re positive you placed it there,” he said in a biting tone, “come show me where it is.”
I exhaled a sigh of defeat as I pushed back from my desk, got up, and walked past Devlin to get to his office. Damn the stupid, gorgeous jerk for smelling so bloody appealing. Six foot three with jet-black hair, perfectly kissable lips, a chiseled jawline probably carved out by God himself and a body that didn’t quit; the man was H. O. T. hot. Too bad his attitude was cold.
Striding confidently toward his large mahogany desk, I frowned when I realized the report wasn’t sitting smack dab in the center. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I’d placed it there three minutes before he arrived.
“I’m positive I put it on your desk,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
“So I guess a thief came and stole the report? Or perhaps a paper fairy collected it for recycling?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek as I clenched and unclenched my fists. I should quit this stupid job, I thought. The daily hit to my blood pressure wasn’t worth the money. The only reason I stayed was that I owed my moms best friend, my Aunt Betsy, for getting me the job. Stomping out in a huff would mean I’d let her down, and that wasn’t going to happen.
“I didn’t suggest either of those things,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Do I really need to remind you again that your attitude is abysmal?”
I closed my eyes and visualized him being hit by a trash truck. Opening my eyes, I walked around the back of his desk. The wood top gleamed from the light coming in through the floor to ceiling windows. As I’d noted on my way over, the report was not there. Looking to the left, I saw that his trashcan was empty. A glance to the right didn’t produce the report, either. When I glanced down at his chair, however, I saw a hint of white against the black leather. Pulling the chair out I picked up the report and held it up with a grin.
“I told you it was here,” I said triumphantly.
Devlin folded his arms across his chest and glared at me imperiously. “No, you told me it was on my desk. Unless that chair is suddenly being called a desk, you were wrong.”
Demise by trash truck wasn’t enough for him. I changed up my visualization to a pack of wild dogs in an ice storm on an uninhabited planet.
“My apologies,” I said in a saccharine sweet voice. My eyes, however, told him to go fuck himself. His narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he stared at me for countless seconds in silence as if he was planning where to hide my body. I briefly considered being helpful and telling him one or two of the dozen places I had in mind for his, should it come down to it. Instead, I held my tongue and waited for him to do something.
Mumbling a curse, he stalked around the desk, pulled out his chair, and sat down with a huff. “Get out,” he growled.
I bit back a grin, knowing I’d ruffled his feathers. The jerk treated me like I had a raging case of something he wanted no part of. I wasn’t sure what I detested more—the fact that he was such a prick or the fact that he was the star of my nightly fantasies. Determined to leave with the upper hand, I beamed a fake smile at him.
“Be sure to let me know if you need anything, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I live to serve.”
He grimaced before he dropped his forehead into his hand. “I said get out,” he snapped.
“Okey dokey,” I said cheerfully. Heading for the door, I made sure to exaggerate the sway of the hips God gave me. Devlin hated my high heels (something about the way they made me walk), hated when I wore skirts instead of pants, and had even complained about my perfume and the color lipstick I used. I knew this because he’d criticized all of the above, multiple times. My response was to go one whole inch higher with my heels, one shade deeper with my lipstick and I no longer wore anything but skirts to work. I’d also very kindly told him that his opinions were pointless since I adhered to the company dress code to the letter. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t write me up for my appearance. He was a lawyer, after all. He knew if he opened that can of worms there would be trouble.
When I got to the door, I stopped and turned, not surprised to find him watching me. “When you boot up your computer you’ll see I scheduled a block for us at the end of the day to go over the agenda for next week.”
He clenched his jaw and pointed to the door. “One more word, Sims, and I’ll fire you.”
I snickered as I turned and pulled the door open. “I’d like to see you try,” I said—just loud enough for him to hear.
2
Devlin
I had officially become that fucking guy, the asshole attorney who hid in his office to avoid interacting with people unless I had to. It was fucked up that a mere six months before I’d been an affable guy who got along well with nearly everyone who worked for me. I could pinpoint to the fucking minute when the change had taken place because it happened when the smoky-voiced five-foot-four green-eyed curvy blonde with a penchant for silk stockings and high heels set her shit down on the desk outside my office.
I wanted the secretary I’d had for ten years back. Badly. Betsy was forty-nine with a husband named Gus and two rambunctious teenagers that she doted on. Everything was fucking perfect—and then Gus got a transfer from New York to Philadelphia and ruined my life. Somehow, between when he got the transfer and when Betsy left, she decided to fuck me over, too. That’s how I wound up stuck with Anya, who just happened to be Betsy’s niece.
