Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Ainsley

It's too fucking early in the morning.

This better be important or I'm going to be pissed.

I drag my ass downstairs, disarm the security alarm, and open the door. Mason Bradley appears on the other side, wearing a pair of basketball shorts, a white T-shirt, and running shoes.

"Did someone die?" My raspy voice is a combination of annoyance and concern.

"No." His husky voice sounds awake, fresh.

I take his arm and check his fancy watch. Six fifteen. I double-check the time and then glare at him. Without a word, I step back inside my house and shut the door.

He speaks through the barrier, "You closed the door. Are you okay?"

"I may be a morning person, Mason." I clear my voice. "But I also like to sleep more than four hours a night. So, if there's no emergency, everyone we know is alive, and there's no zombie apocalypse going on outside my door, I'm going back to bed."

"But we agreed about today. Date number two. You said, and I quote, ‘Yes, I'm up for almost anything, Mase, my calendar is pretty open.' That was before you interrupted our bone-melting kiss, arguing that you had to head to bed. Which, if you did, then you slept about eight hours."

I open the door again and point to the kitchen. "Make some coffee, and I might not kill you for waking me up so early."

He stops right in front of me, brushes a gentle kiss across my forehead, and gives me an infectious grin. Then he plants a couple of tantalizing kisses in the hollow of my neck. "So, bone-melting, huh?"

Am I so sleepy that he's not making sense? What is he trying to say?

"I don't understand. Can you slow down?"

He grins. "You mentioned that yesterday, my kisses were bone-melting." My skin tingles as my body waits for him to touch it again with those lips.

Mason's arms envelop me in a hug. He presses his lips to mine, going from a sweet, tender caress to a devouring, passionate hunger that awakens my senses and shatters my calm. My hands press the sides of his head as I eagerly respond with the same intensity, my tongue fusing with his.

Yes, bone-melting kisses.

Shivers ripple through my body as his hands glide under the light cami I wear and sear my skin. My breasts tingle, and the ache between my thighs increases. Fighting the currents of desire, I tear my mouth away from his.

If I don't use caution, his kisses might become the air I need to breathe and the food my soul needs to survive. For a second, I panic because he could quickly become my entire life, and the last time I let someone be that, I lost myself.

"We have to stop." I can't think straight.

There's an internal fight going on in my head. The wanting more against the heart-wrenching fear of making the same mistake again. For one second, I want to place those barriers back, freeze my heart, and close myself off to the possibilities. Then I remember the emptiness I lived through. Living with fear isn't living; letting my past dictate my present and my future ties me to the pain I lived.

"Yes, our kisses are definitely bone-melting," Mason's voice breaks that conflict. His rock-solid eyes remind me he's the one person in this world who always has my back. He promised not to hurt me. Finally, I shake the doubts when I remember he never breaks a promise.

"Three-point one four one five nine two?—"

"Why are you reciting pi?"

"Because I have to control my body, or I'll break the promise I made to you yesterday of waiting until we're ready and not just have sex for the sake of having sex." Mason kisses the tip of my nose and heads to the kitchen. "Go and change, Nine, and wear running clothes."

Instead of asking what he has planned, I go to my room, hit the cold shower, and replay every moment of that kiss.

Our romantic second date was running.

Some watch movies, others go to galleries, and a few repeat the dinner scene. We went for a jog. Well, we jogged and chatted at Washington Park Arboretum. A great experience, as we had a regular Mason-Ainsley discussion: work, my plans for the school, why I quit the substitute gigs.

It's been two hours since he dropped me back home, when the doorbell rings. I walk to the kitchen and check the monitor above the refrigerator. One of the front porch cameras shows Mason's grainy face. The other camera, his broad shoulders covered by a dark T-shirt.

"In a minute," I say, pressing the intercom button.

"Forgot something?" I question as I swing the door open.

His eyes sweep over my body, from head to toe and all the way back. That cocky grin appears, but I only see it for a few seconds as Mason's lips take possession of mine. It's only a quick taste that leaves my mouth needing more. "This kissing you whenever I want is better than any video game I've ever played."

"You're such a geek, Mason Bradley." My voice comes out dreamy because we both know video games are one of his passions, and my kisses trump that. "Not that I mind you kissing me senseless, but you dropped me off saying ‘thank you for the best second date' and I assumed you called it a day."

"Date number two is over." He lifts his arm, and I notice he's holding a grocery bag.

"We're on date number three, Nine. Brunch time!" His excited voice resonates through the walls.

My spine straightens, and I tilt my head as I stare into his gray eyes. "Three dates in less than twenty-four hours? That's cheating the system."

In fact, part of yesterday's conversation replays in my head. The exact words were, "I'm leaving later tonight for a job."

"What happened to that mission you had last night?" I cross my arms, my eyes become two slits, and my foot taps on the floor.

"I delegated." He lifts a shoulder slightly then slumps his entire back. Not sure if he's being casual about it or regretting it. "Maybe I wanted to accelerate the process when you mentioned that five-date rule. However, after you stopped obsessing with having the perfect date and loosened up, I got to enjoy parts of you I've never had before." He gives me a peck on the lips. "Including the physical portion of a relationship. Today I want to spend more time with you."

Surprising, yet expected. For a guy who doesn't believe in relationships, he's wooing with his own style. Yet I've always known he's sweet.

"More time. I like that." My cheeks begin to hurt as the tips of my lips stretch farther and farther north each second we're together. "We have plans today, including shopping. Let me feed you, Ten. I'll throw some of my famous pancakes your way."

Before entering the kitchen and taking a step of my own toward an equal relationship, I step closer and initiate what I hope is another soul-searing kiss. A branding kiss.

Hope that this might be one of many dates for the rest of our lives.