36. Mason

Mason

“ W hy are you looking at me like that?”

I cock a brow. “Like what?”

“Like you want to take a bite out of me.”

Funnily enough, that’s exactly what I was thinking when Hannah stepped out of the room in her little green evening gown that matches the hue in her eyes. The shoulders tie, leaving thin straps of material hanging down her back and I can’t think of anything other than how I’ll be pulling those ties apart tonight and fucking her with the damned thing bunched around her waist.

“The thought crossed my mind.”

She blushes, the pretty shade of pink matching the mark from my teeth on her ass. Fuck . . . I wonder if it’s still there?

Carefully, I reach for her, my hand sliding into her hair to pull her to me. I press a kiss to her lips that has my cock swelling in my jeans despite being buried inside her most of the night. Even though my balls ache from how many times I made her come, punishing her with either my fingers, my mouth, or my cock, I still want more.

I’ll always want more.

Wonder what Kenda would have to say about that?

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” she purrs, gaze raking over me. I rarely wear a suit. In fact, I fucking hate it because it’s hot, but I can’t very well show up in jeans for tonight’s endeavor.

“I’m going to destroy this dress later,” I murmur, fingering the small bow at her shoulder. “I hope you’re not attached.”

“If it’s anything like last night, you can destroy anything you want.”

Last night was a blur. My little doe on her knees, big green eyes wide and innocent even as she took my cock down her throat is enough to put a permanent shake in my hands. I can’t get her out of my fucking head.

Not that she hasn’t always been there.

With a nag of pain in my chest, I realize I’d give my left fucking arm if it meant giving her the life of peace she deserves. Now that she’s chosen me—no, given herself to me—I’ll take a bullet if it means I can keep her.

Kenda would say I’m toxic. I prefer the term loyal.

As much as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t. Hannah Gaines is mine whether she likes it or not.

I don’t know what my family will say. I don’t even know what the future has in store for us. I also don’t give a fuck. I feel like I’ve found something forbidden that I didn’t even want, but now that I have it, I’ll be damned if anyone’s prying it from my grasp.

She’s too good for me. Still doesn’t mean I’m giving her up.

“You look beautiful.”

She blushes, placing her hand over mine on her cheek. I can see the worry in her gaze. It’s not misplaced. Tonight could go very, very badly, but we can’t miss this opportunity.

The benefit is being held downtown, only a couple blocks away from the warehouse where they burned and desecrated those women. We park Dad’s Challenger and I almost laugh at how out of place it is amongst the wealth in the parking garage.

It’s like a sick fucking joke as Hannah and I arrive, stepping up to the front doors surrounded by people in their fancy fucking clothes and jewelry that cost more than my house.

Parker always made my sisters go to these. Benefits. Galas. Misplaced charity functions. He could never force me and I hated them, so I stayed far away in my “dusty” garage. I don’t belong here. Not with the engine grease stained under my fingernails and the tattoos under my dress shirt.

Hannah does; though, judging by the way she’s cowering into my side, holding onto my arm like I might slip away from her if she loosens her grip even an inch, I’m starting to think maybe she doesn’t.

Maybe neither of us belong anywhere. Maybe we’ve just created our own little paradise in the midst of a warzone.

As soon as we step inside, I can feel her stiffen. She’s on high alert, scanning the room around her. Even as people approach us, welcoming her and consequently me, I can feel the tension radiating through her.

I would fucking hate to be in her shoes. Greeting people who think they know you. Who know your name, just because of who your mother is. I would rather remain nameless in a crowd. A mystery, instead of someone everyone thinks they’ve got figured out.

Being part of the governor’s family makes you California royalty. You bleed purple and Versace and no one ever questions if you’re okay because you have to be, right? You’ve got more money than God, so why wouldn’t you be okay?

I used to think that, too. I used to believe money solved every rich motherfucker’s problems, but really, the problems just get more complex because now there’s no simple fix.

Give me a simple life, budgeting to make ends meet over a mansion with a whole vault full of hundred-dollar bills any day.

“Hannah.”

The voice is tightly laced and filled with something like apathy from behind us.

I know that fucking voice. Hannah’s fingers tense on my arm, but she still turns around and plasters a fake smile on her face. To the outside looking in, it probably looks normal. I can see through it though.

“You haven’t called,” Michael grumbles, stepping up to us, his own date on his arm. He doesn’t look at me, but he does look at her hand on my arm with a disdain I know all too well.

Still holding onto hope that Mommy dearest is going to hand Hannah over like a prized pig.

“I apologize, Michael. I’ve been busy.” She nods to the blonde on his arm, who watches her with a carefully concealed look of venomous envy. “Beatrice.”

God, what is it with rich people and weird fucking names?”

“Hannah.” Beatrice looks at me.

“This is Mason Carpenter. Mason, Beatrice Porter,” Hannah says. She slinks further into my side and something strange passes between the two women. I almost laugh. My little doe is territorial.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Michael says, completely oblivious to the fact that no one gives a shit about what he’s been worried about.

“Well, I’m sorry for worrying you, but as I said, I’ve been busy.”

“Yes, I’m sure working in a hot and dirty garage is keeping you very well strapped for time to pick up the phone.”

Hannah’s eyes narrow. “Funnily enough, it is.”

“Well, your mother will want to see you.” Michael dares to look toward me. “I can take you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hannah says at the same time I say, “She’ll go with me.”

Michael seems to think about saying something before those words fall flat. Realization crosses his features and I think it’s then he realizes, we know.

“Come, Beatrice,” he says after a moment, smoothing the lines down in his suit. “I believe dinner is about to start.”

“Yes,” Hannah chimes, and he pauses. “Wouldn’t want you to miss your slice of the pie.”

“Hannah?”

Hannah stiffens.

“How wonderful,” her mother croons, stepping up to her and attempting to pull her into a hug. She hangs back, that plastered smile on her face falling.

“Mother.”

“Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re still upset with me. That was a real stunt you pulled lying about the charity. They were expecting you.”

She doesn’t answer. It’s then she must notice me standing beside her. Her eyes go wide for a moment, then they darken, a nearly imperceivable hated slipping through her gaze before it’s replaced with coldness.

“Carpenter,” she greets, holding out a hand. I shake it, hard enough that her eye twitches. “I didn’t think a suit was in your attire.”

“It wasn’t,” I reply coldly.

She nods, chuckling darkly. Another woman—her campaign manager from what I remember—joins us and slips close to her.

“Hannah, how lovely to see you,” she says, voice laced with tightly wound tension.

It seems our presence has caused a bit of a disturbance for them.

“June.”

“Hannah, June and I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you, yet, but we’ve recently gotten engaged. We will be the first lesbian couple in the governor’s seat in California.”

June flashes a gaudy ring that would probably cause her to sink, should she be thrown into the Pacific.

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah chimes, voice aloof. “I guess.”

“Hannah—” Laura Gaines starts, but she cuts her off.

“Sending Michael to do your bidding? Seems a little rich, doesn’t it?”

She’s speaking outwardly about Michael’s attempt to get her to come home, but there’s an underlying tension I’m sure she picks up on. I see her scan Hannah’s face for a moment, trying to decide what she knows. Little does she know, we know fucking everything.

“You and Michael used to be so close. He cares about you.”

“Yes, well, it seems you don’t always know people as well as you thought.”

“Dinner will be starting soon,” June says, attempting to change the subject. “We’re having salmon. One of your favorites.”

“I hate salmon,” Hannah replies coldly and pride swells in my chest at the venom in her tone.

That’s my fucking girl.

“Well, you’ll learn to love it.”

“Have you found my sister?”

“Now is not the time,” she bites and June scans the crowd around us. Luckily for them, people are making their way to their dinner seats, not paying an ounce of attention to the verbal standoff in center of the room.

“No. Only when it’s convenient for the polls, right?”

“Come, Laura. Your speech will be starting soon.”

Hannah’s mother stares at her for a moment and she stares back. I’m prepared to step in if needed, but she needs to do this. It’s the only way she’ll ever break free from Laura Gaines’ clutches.

“So, it seems,” Laura murmurs coldly, and I have a feeling she’s not speaking to June.

She steers June away, but not before shooting one long glance at me. I return it, matching the same cold clarity that shines in her eyes, hoping she can read the thought echoing over and over in my head.

I’m going to kill you.

She must see something that scares her because her eye twitches again. Then she leaves.

“I hate fish,” Hannah grumbles, picking at the food on her plate. “And asparagus. It makes your pee smell weird.”

I chuckle, though I’m starting to get that itch to get the fuck out of here. Fortunately, we were sat at a random table and not with her mother and Michael. I’m not sure her knife would have stayed on her plate, should we be forced to dine with them.

Guess we have Prince to thank for that.

Not that I blame her. Hell, I might even reward her for it, but that’s provided I could get her home after the cops arrest her for murder.

“I’ll make you a cheeseburger when we get home,” I murmur quietly and she relaxes, placing her fork on her plate.

The room quiets and before she can respond, her mother takes the center stage, as everyone looks on. It’s moments like these where I wonder why the hell we listen to people like Laura Gaines. A woman who’s involved with the cartel. Who traffics young women and men. Facilitates their rape, murder, and torture. All for her political gain.

She beat her kids. Subjected them to years of psychological abuse, yet, we still vote for her because we think she’s a good person.

People are different behind closed doors. I don’t care what anyone says. No one’s good one hundred percent of the time.

We’ve all got a little evil in us. Just . . . how much?

“I want to thank everyone for coming tonight,” Laura says into the microphone and the whole room quiets. “You know, I’ll admit, I never knew how big of a problem human trafficking was until I took office. I thought, oh, there’s no way it could happen here.”

Hannah squeezes my hand tightly under the table, so I squeeze back, shooting her a look.

It’ll be over soon.

“So, imagine my surprise when I found out it was right there. Right in my backyard.” Laura Gaines looks around the room, her eyes landing on Hannah. “I have two beautiful daughters and I couldn’t imagine what I would do if they were taken from me.”

I stiffen. A threat is still a threat, even if it’s said in front of a thousand people.

She’s threatening her.

“My heart goes out to all the families affected by these heinous acts. And that’s why I’m here tonight to ask for you to lend a hand. Help these people find their babies. Their sisters, mothers, brothers, and fathers.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Let’s bring them home.”

And then, in the most theatrical sense, a woman falls from the second-story balcony behind the governor to hang right in front of the American flag. A noose around her neck, even though the decay on her skin indicates she’s been gone for a while.

Screams erupt around the room and chaos ensues. I grab Hannah, tugging her from the table and into my chest, holding her as people pass us by, running from an armed gunman as he takes the balcony and starts firing off shots.

Fuck .

“Hannah,” I bite, pushing her in front of me, our backs to the gunman. We crouch through the crowd of people toward the back rooms. “Get down.”

She hunkers down, and I stay right behind her, shoving people back as we make our way toward an open door.

My blood roars in my ears, my ears ringing from the assault rifle above our heads, but I don’t stop. I need to get her out of here.

A loud pop rings through the air and then blood coats the side of Hannah’s dress and something wet hits my face.

A woman falls dead at our feet. I don’t recognize her, but her black dress shirt tells me she was a worker at the benefit.

Hannah lets out a startled gasp, but the bullet wound in the center of her forehead tells me there’s nothing we can do for the woman now, so I push her past and we finally reach the back hallway.

Hannah turns to run toward the exit, but I grab her, tugging her back the other way.

“Mason,” she pants, breathless as she almost runs to keep up with me.

“We need to find out who that is.”

“We need to get out of here.”

“In time,” I bite, locating the stairs to the balcony and tugging on the door. Locked.

Hannah growls behind me. “Here.”

She shoves me out of the way and reaches up under her hair, pulling out a pin.

My little fucking safe-cracker.

“What? I’ve been practicing.” I shake my head, pulling her toward me and crushing my lips against hers with a growl, blood droplets on her cheek and all.

When I break away, her cheeks are burning.

She shakes her head after a moment to clear her thoughts. “We don’t have time for this.”

We don’t, but my cock still hardens from the stutter on her tongue.

“Come on.” I take her hand, pulling her toward the stairs. “Stay behind me.”

The gunfire stops as we make our way up the stairs and right as we reach the top, so does the guy that opened fire on the crowd of the benefit.

So, I stick my arm out, clotheslining him to the ground.

He falls with a thud, assault rifle falling to the floor beside him. I nod to Hannah and she grabs it, pointing it down into his face.

The guy just chuckles.

“It’s fucking empty, dumb bitch.”

“This isn’t.”

His eyes widen when I point my pistol at the center of his forehead.

“You’re the governor’s daughter,” he clucks, eyes zooming back and forth between the gun in my hand and Hannah.

“He’s one of the men from the warehouse,” Hannah says, completely ignoring the bastard on the floor.

“Yeah, he is. He’s the one that kept pissing and moaning because he didn’t get a chance to rape a woman before she was brutally murdered.”

“Come to think of it,” Hannah adds, “You said I was a fine piece of ass. How does it look now that there’s a gun pointed at your head?”

That’s my fucking girl.

“Still fine as fuck, though all you Gaines girls are danger whores.”

Hannah blinks at him, unmoving. He seems to take that as a sign to keep fucking talking.

“Yeah . . . I know all about you two. I bet your pussy’s soaking wet right now. How about it, princess? Wanna show me.”

I cock the gun and he jumps, but Hannah does one better.

She aims the assault rifle at his leg and fires and miraculously, it’s still got one in the chamber. She stumbles back, eyes going wide as the idiot beneath us roars in pain. Blood runs from the hole in his leg, soaking the marble floor.

“Where is she?” I bite, kneeling down beside him.

“Who?” he grinds through clenched teeth.

“Melissa Gaines. I know she was at the warehouse. Where the fuck is she now?”

He spits in my face. Hannah raises the gun again and he jerks back in fear.

“Where?”

“Cortez!” he rushes, squeezing his eyes shut. “She was working with Cortez.”

Hannah and I meet each other’s gazes.

This is bad. Really fucking bad.

A commotion sounds downstairs as the cops finally arrive.

“Time to go,” I tell her, standing and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“What are we going to do with him?” Hannah asks, eyes flashing angrily. I know what she’s thinking about. The women, the incinerator. Her sister.

I shrug. “You really think he needs his dick?”

Without a second thought, she shoots him, right in the balls and I’ve got to say, I don’t envy him.

Serves his dumb ass right.

“Good job, baby,” I take her hand. “Let’s go.”

I tug her back down the staircase and toward the back exit while the man upstairs screams out in pain. There’s a good chance he’ll bleed out before he ever makes it to the hospital. I’m just sorry his time in agony is so short.

We head out into the night and don’t look back as cops begin to swarm the place. I pull her right to our car in the parking garage and we’re gone in less than a minute, the venue vanishing in the distance behind us.

I start the trip home, my heartbeat fucking pounding in my chest, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I pull to a stop on a darkened street, locking the doors and pulling Hannah to me. She slips into my lap and we barely fit in the front seat of the old Challenger, but neither of us stops.

Our breathing is harsh and ragged as she works on the button of my jeans and I fist the material of her panties, snapping them off and drawing a sharp hiss through her teeth that only seems to spur her on more.

She reaches between us, wrapping her hand around my cock and lining me up with her entrance, her breathing ragged against my lips.

And then I’m pushing her down on me.

“Fuck!” I bite, my head falling back against the seat as she envelopes me in her tight, wet heat. “ Fuck , Hannah.”

She shudders over me, rolling her hips to meet my thrusts and working me inside her. Her eyes screw shut and she bites her lip, wrapping her arms around my neck and riding me. The burn of her pussy opening for me only drives me to roll her hips faster, working her over my cock until she’s tightening around me greedily.

“That’s it, little doe,” I growl against the flesh of her throat, using my hand on her ass to move her faster over me, working more of my cock inside her. “You were so fucking sexy back there, baby.”

“Mason . . .” she whimpers, her nails digging into the flesh at the back of my neck as her hips move faster. Shakier. “No condom,” she breathes, but she makes no move to get off me.

“I’ll pull out.”

“Okay,” she nods, even though both of us know that’s not going to stop anything.

Reaching up, I tug the straps loose on her dress and her tits fall out, heavy and bouncing in my face. I capture one with my lips, nipping her nipple before sucking it into my mouth to soothe the sting with my tongue. She cries out, her body shivering over mine and I can feel her walls closing in on me already.

Good, because, right now, I don’t know that I have the self-control to stop myself from coming.

I bounce her over me, reaching between us and stroking her clit with my thumb until she’s nearly screaming from the pleasure. Her fingers bite into my shoulders, spurring me on, but she doesn’t say the safe word and she doesn’t ask me to stop.

“That’s it, Hannah. Come for me.”

I enunciate each word with a thrust of my hips and power into her until she unravels in my arms, my name a breathless plea on her lips.

Two more strokes is all it takes before my cock is exploding. At just the last second, I pull out, coming on her pussy and damn near going blind from the intensity of my orgasm.

When we come to, she’s spent, resting her head on my shoulder as little tremors move through both of us. I take her face in my hands, pushing her hair back and pressing a kiss to her lips, drinking her in.

“You’re mine,” she whispers against my lips and I resist the urge to smile.

Finally, she fucking gets it.

“I’m yours.”

Her stomach rumbles loudly between us.

“Can I get that cheeseburger now?”

I can’t help but chuckle.

“Anything you want, little doe.”