The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers Book 2), page 21
Laila smiled. “Something tells me that he won’t help us pack up this place if we move all the way to Boston.”
Something tightly coiled deep in his gut unfurled. Mason pressed his forehead to Laila’s. “Does that mean you’re coming with me?”
“I—yes. Yes, I will.”
When Mason abruptly let go, she almost fell flat on her face against the couch cushion. Baffled, she watched him run out of the room.
“I’ll be right back,” he called. He’d returned before she had a chance to get upset. And when he kneeled in front of her holding a small black box, she lost her ability to breathe.
Mason held it up. “I’ve been holding on to this for a while. I wrote to my cousin to ask for it when I was in the hospital.”
He opened the box to reveal a beautiful art deco ring with a sparkling oval diamond in the center. Laila gasped aloud, reaching out to stroke the delicate leaf-and-vine design of the silver band.
“This was my grandmother’s. It went to my cousin Nate since he was the first to marry, but his wife is a jewelry designer who opted to wear a piece she made instead. Nate has a band that matches her ring. But I always liked this one. It’s what I picture my wife wearing.”
Tears glinted in Laila’s eyes. The awe on her face was more than he’d hoped for. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
Mason’s answering smile was blindingly beautiful. “Laila, will you marry me?”
She threw her arms around him. “I thought you had already asked by giving this to me.”
He squeezed her tight. “Some words need to be said aloud.”
Pressing kisses all over his face and neck, she hugged him back with all her strength. “Then yes, yes, and yes.”
Mason grinned. “You know, there’s another context where I’m fond of hearing those words…”
He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss against her palm just above the stone. “I want to see you in this and nothing but this,” he said before stripping her bare.
Soon, she wore the ring and nothing else.
After tugging down his pants, Mason pulled her onto his lap. Laila’s slick folds slid over his stiffening length, the silky wet heat burning him up.
He slid into her tightness with a groan. His hands moved over as he murmured endearments, urging her until she was riding him fast and hard.
Pulling her into him, he tongued her breasts as her vicelike grip nearly sent him over the edge, but he was missing that tell-tale flutter.
Reversing their positions, Mason came down over her, taking Laila to the floor.
“This is what you really want, isn’t it, sugar?” he whispered, pinning her arms on either side of her head. “You like being covered by me, taking me deep and hard. It’s what that tight little pussy needs to get off.”
“Yes, I do,” she admitted raggedly, clutching at him with sweaty hands. “I love it.”
Whimpering, Laila clamped her legs around his back as he ground against her, giving her the blunt and straightforward domination she seemed to need. “Please, never stop.”
Goddamn, she was perfect. Mason wanted to throw his head back and shout it to the skies. Instead, he crushed her to the carpet, riding her with open possessiveness.
Throbbing now, he drank in her cries, reveling in the feel of her naked sheath gripping and spasming around him.
“Mason, now, now.” She came with a broken shout, her entire body shaking and trembling underneath him.
“That’s it, sugar, milk me dry,” he ordered as he finally let go, pumping everything he had into her greedy, pulsing core. The shudders racked him, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. It was as if he’d come with his entire body, his bones and muscles dissolving and then being reknit—this time with Laila’s DNA weaved into them.
It was a damn good thing she’d just agreed to become his wife, because he could never let her go now.
The realization was stunning and fucking scary at the same time… But he could deal because he wasn’t in this alone.
Collapsing to the side to avoid crushing her, he fought to catch his breath, one hand splayed over Laila covetously.
Mason didn’t move for a long time. Then he gathered his fiancé’s lax and sated body in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Laila was still floating on a cloud the day after Mason’s proposal, especially after the hardest part had been weathered.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” Rosamie had wailed when she heard the news.
“We will visit a lot, I promise.”
“Not enough,” her friend pouted, squeezing her tight until Ransom convinced her to let go with a hit-and-run kiss that had Rosamie clutching the air after him.
The still-together couple had come over in the evening for dinner. Ransom being Ransom, he’d passed the invitation to all their current and former Auric teammates, and, suddenly, it was a party. Laila didn’t recognize any of the faces, but that didn’t stop them from embracing her as if they’d known her for years.
“Everyone is so friendly,” she commented to Julio, who Mason had introduced as his friend Klein’s boyfriend.
“That’s because we feel like we know you already,” the friendly Hispanic man said enthusiastically, lifting his refilled champagne glass to clink against hers. By that point, she and Mason had been toasted so much she felt as if her blood was half champagne. Laila felt light, almost fizzy with joy.
“Mason has been pretty tight-lipped about his love life. The first time we heard he had one at all was when he started asking for you at the hospital,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “It was the great mystery of the year—who is Laila? We were all dying to know. But when Mason was lucid again, he clammed up. Luckily, Ransom has no such restraint. We’ve been rooting for this.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “You know we were all very worried when he was hurt earlier in the year. Even though he’s been promoted out, he’s one of the team’s rocks, part of the foundation Auric is built on.”
Taking advantage of the group’s preoccupation with their drinks, Laila drew Julio aside to a quiet corner.
“You have a very deep loyalty to them all, don’t you?”
“They deserve it,” he told her.
“Do you ever worry about the danger of the job?”
“I do,” he admitted. “Mason getting hurt shook me up. He’s so solid. You just can’t imagine he’d ever be vulnerable. My partner Louis and I talked a lot about safety around that time, and my fears for him and our family. Auric trains its people well, and they don’t take any chances. Louis insists he’s safer now than when he was in the army or would be as a cop.”
“Was he also a police officer?”
“No, but Santos was for a while after the army.”
“I hadn’t realized that.” Mason had proudly introduced her to his former team leader, who’d brought his wife to the celebration.
“What about the other thing? About Auric?” she asked in a quieter voice. Her eyes flicked to the crowd of big, boisterous men and their partners. “I trust Mason enough to know he’d never work for bad people, but do you ever have any misgivings about the company? You hear things about some private security firms being bad actors.”
Louis’s chest puffed out, but he didn’t seem offended. It almost appeared as if he approved of the question. “Auric isn’t like that. Not with Elias Gardner and Ian Quin at the helm. Louis has told me how they turn down sketchy jobs that seem legit on the surface. They’ve gotten rather good at sniffing out shitty people. Even once they expand, they’re going to stay small enough to keep an eye on things. And if they don’t, every man has an out clause. It’s in their contract.”
Laila’s brow furrowed. “What kind of out clause?”
“It’s kind of like an old-fashioned morality clause they make actors sign. But in their case, the men have to agree never to do anything that goes against the founding principles laid out in the Auric charter. The novel part is that it goes both ways. If the company ever takes a job that makes the men cross that line, the men, too, get to walk away without having to worry about finishing out the rest of their contract.”
Her lips parted. “That’s amazing…and comforting.”
Julio nodded. “You’ll see when you meet them. Elias Gardner and Ian Quinn both served. They understand the concerns that a man might have when going into this line of work. I’ve heard Ian say more than once they wouldn’t want to hire anyone who didn’t worry about their employer crossing the line.”
Feeling a whole lot better, Laila was far more enthusiastic about meeting the Auric founders. Both made an appearance midway through the festivities, congratulating her and Mason with genuine warmth.
Ian Quinn hugged her. “Welcome to the family,” he said before wishing them well and saying goodbye so he and Elias could attend a previous engagement.
The party didn’t wind down until after midnight when Mason kicked everyone out so they could begin their ‘private celebration’. He even used those words, much to her blushing embarrassment.
“It was the only way to clear the room,” he swore afterward, running his finger up and down her hot cheek.
The single touch was enough to send electricity across her face. It traveled down her body. Laila put her arms around Mason. “Well, I would hate to make you a liar…”
Her hands slipped under his shirt. Beaming, Mason whipped it off, tossing it on the floor.
Laila burst out laughing. “How are you real?” She stroked the expanse of golden muscles on his chest. Maybe someday she would grow jaded, living with such beauty on a day-to-day basis, but she didn’t think so—not when his insides matched his outsides.
She never got an answer. Mason’s mouth was busy. It moved up and down over her neck, sending waves of enervating pleasure down her body. Her legs gave out after a minute, but it didn’t matter because she was being carried out of the kitchen.
“We’re going to have sex in the bedroom?” she asked when Mason dropped her on their bed. Her man was usually too impatient to make it all the way to the bedroom. Mason usually just pinned her up against the nearest wall, but something could definitely be said for the bed…
Mason flipped her over, his big hands stroking her skin as he pulled off her pants and panties in one go. Her bra and shirt were next, but Mason thought better of discarding the shirt. It ended up tied around her wrists.
Laila squealed when he tickled her backside, but it turned into a shudder when he ran his roughly callused palms over the tender skin.
“Mason.”
“Yes, sugar?” His hands were moving between her legs, teasing and probing while his mouth pressed hot kisses across her cheeks.
“I can’t,” she panted. “Too ticklish there.”
“I think you can, sugar,” he replied, the caramel drawl nearly doing her in. Holding her still for his mouth, he licked her up and down, pulling her backside up to his mouth, his arms wrapped around hers to hold her down.
Her breath hot against her knees, Laila moaned. Then he clamped his hands on her thighs, working her back and forth on his tongue.
Laila tried to crawl away—it was too intense. But Mason wasn’t about to let her go. Instead, he moved over her, covering her body with his as he guided his thick length into her body.
Face pressed to the mattress, Laila cried out. She was warm and wet, more than ready thanks to his mouth, but the feel of him was too good.
“That’s what you really want, isn’t it, sugar?”
“Yes.” Laila tried to push back against him, but Mason wasn’t about to relinquish control. He kept her still, penetrating her with slow and steady strokes. Torn between heaven and hell, she squirmed and panted, flexing her muscles to hold him inside her as long as possible.
“Do you need more, sugar?” Mason’s voice sounded amused.
“Are you going to make me beg?”
Mason curled over her, his body curved around her to maximize skin-to-skin contact. “No,” he said, his deep voice making her nerves buzz. “My job is to give you what you need…exactly how you need it.”
Pulling her onto her knees, she braced herself as Mason pulled out and thrust back in, repeating the motion until he was fucking her fast and hard, his thighs slapping against hers.
Her first orgasm hit her fast, crashing over her and sending her screaming into the mattress with bone-rattling shudders.
“That’s one, sugar,” Mason said, rearranging her lax limb so she sprawled on her back, legs spread. His mouth covered her breast, teeth grazing her nipples in turn.
“But I’m not through with you yet. I’m going to need a few more of those orgasms before I’m done—the ones where you scream my name.” Tasting the soft skin under her breast, Mason murmured. “That sound good to you, sugar?”
Still too weak to move, Laila laughed. “I don’t know if I can survive another one of those.”
“Don’t worry, sugar.” Mason pressed a hot kiss to her stomach. “I’m going to help you.”
Her future husband was true to his word. He did help…three more times.
Laila called her manager at Gardullo’s to explain she wasn’t coming back. “I feel terrible leaving without being able to work out a two-week notice,” she told him.
“It’s sooner than we planned, but I understand. Plus, it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming. Once you got a job at a hospital or clinic, we were going to lose you anyway,” he told her, having already been resigned to that fact. “And as long as you left your recipes, Shirley is happy to take over, but there were a few she hasn’t gotten right yet. I hate to ask, but I don’t suppose you can make a few batches of your specialties, can you? Your regulars have been asking for them.”
So that was how Laila started baking in Mason’s kitchen. His oven was large, considering it was for domestic use, but the size didn’t compare to Gardullo’s commercial ovens. It required her starting early in the day so she could make many small batches of her specialties.
“Wherever we live after this, whether it’s that apartment in Boston I told you about or somewhere else, I’m going to make sure you have the biggest and best oven money can buy,” Mason promised after watching her set up tray after tray of cookie sheets in preparation for today’s orders.
“A regular one will be fine—you have no idea how much a high-end oven can cost,” she admonished, quoting a figure that made him do a double-take.
“Well… maybe we’ll keep an eye out for a refurbished oven,” he said with a wrinkled nose before kissing her goodbye and leaving for the Auric facility to teach a marksmanship class.
After he left, Laila mixed her killer oatmeal chocolate chip and pecan cookie dough, putting the lot in the fridge to stiffen the dough while she made her petit four batter. Hours later, she took a break for lunch, vowing she could compromise on the brand of her oven, but she couldn’t live without a well-ventilated kitchen.
Unfortunately for her, the kitchen windows of the rental faced west with an unrestricted view of the valley, so it received a full blast of afternoon sunlight at this time of the year.
Sweating profusely, Laila fanned herself with a junk mail flyer. She had already pulled the gauzy white curtains closed on the windows, but it hadn’t helped as they were mostly decorative.
Laila could hardly blame Mason for not noticing how poorly situated the kitchen was for baking. She doubted the owners had used it much at all except at breakfast and dinnertime when the light wasn’t so harsh.
Wiping her damp brow, Laila put the last loaded cookie sheet in the oven, lowering the temperature to give herself a good twenty minutes before she had to pull them out. That was more than enough time to shower. Laila wanted to be fresh and clean when Mason got home.
Although why I bother, I’ll never know, she thought with a grin. He was just going to get her all hot and sweaty again.
Laila had just pulled out her short bathrobe when she heard glass breaking. Frowning because the sound was too loud to be at the neighbors, she hurried to the living room. Nothing there was disturbed, but she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Someone was behind the curtain of the kitchen door window. She could see a man-shaped shadow. Frozen, Laila watched as a large, hairy hand reached through the window, groping for the doorknob. The sound she heard must have been one of the small glass panes set in the door being broken.
Laila ran forward, her split-second reaction to go for one of the kitchen knives. She pictured herself stabbing at the hand while screaming her head off to alert the neighbors, but then the door began to swing open.
Aware it was too late, she spun to run out the front door, but someone was there, too, jiggling the doorknob.
Oh my God, it’s a hit squad!
Laila ran to grab her phone in Mason’s bedroom, grabbing her purse at the same time. Thrusting her hand inside, she clutched the sleek little stun gun she’d borrowed from Rosamie.
It won’t do much good against two men, her brain managed to supply above an increasing buzz that sounded remarkably like static.
A crash followed heavy footsteps. They were getting closer.
Acting on pure instinct, her panic-ravaged brain didn’t even think. She flew to the closet, flying up those high and wide closet shelves she hated. Laila squeezed into the corner of the highest shelf, the one where Mason kept blankets and his spare duffle bag. Praying she was completely concealed, she pulled the blanket and duffle over herself.
She couldn’t even close the closet door from here, but as long as she wasn’t visible, maybe they would pass her by, guessing she had somehow slipped past them to escape outside.
Too scared to move, she kept her phone pressed to her thigh with one hand, her purse clutched in the other.
I have to get the stun gun out. If she were discovered, they would drag her out of the closet. She had to have her only weapon out and ready to use.
It’s not the only one. Wrenching her eyeballs to see her phone’s screen without moving her head, she texted Mason, 911. Then she turned the phone to silent before dropping it next to her so she could use the hand to feel around the bag’s interior for the stun gun.
