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Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JUST ONCE, TO GET IT OUT OF OUR SYSTEMS – The heroes are convinced their feelings are purely physical and the only solution is to act on them. Once. Just once. The heroes are also probably really bad at math.

N ormally, Mason found Max’s shenanigans endearing, but as the kid rolled around on the ground next to a sheet-white Sawyer, he was tempted to join in on Luis’s whispered admonishments, frog-marching his eldest son out of the room. Extending a hand, he guided Sawyer to her feet. His mother, sister, father, Lynn, and Bex all crowded in the archway between the kitchen and dining room, and he waved them off, uncharacteristically annoyed with them as well for hovering.

“Are you alright?” he asked once they were alone. He rubbed her shoulders comfortingly as she fussed with her bangs, pink tinging the tops of her cheeks.

“I’m fine. Just embarrassed,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I knew he was there and he still scared the shit out of me.” She offered him a weak smile, and his chest felt tight. “I’m sorry for making a scene.”

“Don’t apologize—especially not for making a scene. Not in this dramatic-ass family.”

That made her laugh, and the knot behind his rib cage loosened slightly.

“Well, at least I changed the subject,” she said with a grimace. “Are you alright?”

His hand at her shoulder flexed of its own volition, his jaw aching as he clenched it. “Not how I would have done it, but… it’s done. Thankfully, my mother is too proud to lose face, so I’m spared her making this about her—for now.” He grimaced. He tried not to talk about his mom that way to anyone outside of Luis or Alissa, but he’d never been good at filtering himself around Sawyer. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sawyer nodded, and he was grateful that he could count on her not to push the issue. He didn’t want to talk about it now, not here. He wanted to forget, to enjoy this time with his family, a luxury he’d taken for granted the past few years. Yes, his mother drove him up a wall with her meddling, but he still loved her. While misguided, her efforts were because she loved him—all of them. He would miss being near his family when he left.

Sawyer adjusted her skirt, letting out a small whimper that had his heart jumping into his throat.

“My tights,” she mourned.

Glancing down, he spied the rip in the knee of her patterned hose. They’d been sexy to begin with, but the run that now ran up her thigh… Mason resisted the urge to follow it with his fingers, to see where it led. He didn’t need to, however, as Sawyer stuck her leg out of the slit of the dress, tugging on the material around her calves and guiding it upward. Rearranging her skirt, she effectively hid the damage to her tights, but the lid Mason had put on his attraction to Sawyer was straining under all the pressure.

She glanced up, clearly proud of her maneuvering. Mason wasn’t quick enough to conceal the lust no doubt written all over his face. A smirk curved her red lips. “Cool it, álvarez.”

“Just keep that run in your tights hidden.” His voice came out strangled.

“Fine,” she said, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry into the next room. “So long as you keep those forearms covered.”

He glanced down at the sleeves he’d rolled up. “Oh, these?” he asked innocently. He flexed his hand, and Sawyer pressed her lips together, a small mm-hmm escaping her. He pushed his sleeves up past his elbows and extended his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her into the dining room, but the look in her eyes promised war.

He had no fucking clue what he’d just gotten himself into. He always seemed to feel that way when he was with her, so even though it was par for the course with them, he couldn’t help the trill of excitement coursing through him. It was a welcome distraction.

As soon as they sat down, Sawyer crossed her legs under the table, the panel of her dress slipping to the side, the hole in her tights on full display for him. It was a very welcome distraction.

He wasn’t sure he tasted a single thing at dinner. He was vaguely aware of participating in the conversation around the table, but they rehashed the same stories every year, actors giving scripted talk show sound bites, so he was on autopilot. They were all on autopilot, pointedly avoiding talking about the bomb Bex had accidentally dropped. She and Kara were close, but that Kara would’ve mentioned it, the need to warn Bex to not bring up Guiding Light… It hadn’t even crossed his mind. Too late now. He just had to get through dinner. He would deal with the fallout later.

Luis sent him a loaded look at one point, and guilt panged in his chest. Out of everyone, he felt worst about not telling Luis. He knew Luis would support him, not make it about himself, but he hadn’t wanted to force Luis to keep a secret from Margot. His logic seemed airtight before, but now it felt so flimsy. He was going to have to make a lot of apologies tomorrow.

He startled as a hand slid on top of his thigh, squeezing gently. Sawyer leaned over slightly. “You’re frowning,” she murmured.

Mason realized his mask had slipped. He focused on relaxing his clenched jaw, unfurrowing his brow. Sawyer nodded once in approval, and Mason wasn’t sure how he felt that she was aware he treated being around his mother like doing press. He had to be on. Placing his hand on top of hers, he squeezed appreciatively. If she weren’t here, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. If she weren’t here, he didn’t know what his mom would have done, if she would have bothered saving face in front of Lynn. Lynn was practically family, so he didn’t understand why they had to keep up the charade of Perfect Family when they were already a pretty damn perfect family, but Moira’s media training ran deep, and mess was not allowed. You bottled that shit right up. Tonight, however, he was grateful for the charade. He just wanted to enjoy the rest of this night, as much as he could.

Sawyer slid her hand from beneath his, and he lamented the loss of the grounding contact. Then she guided his hand into her lap, right next to the all-too-tempting rip in her tights. She effortlessly jumped into the table conversation, dropping her napkin in her lap and effectively covering his hand that was far higher on her thigh than was appropriate.

He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to get the fuck out of here and take Sawyer back to his place and slowly peel off those goddamn tights. But that would be against Rule #2: No sex. This was clearly an invitation, but was it purely to distract him? Or was she flirting? Her comment about his forearms—was she struggling with their rules as much as he was? The possibility hadn’t occurred to him until now.

She was so goddamn blasé about everything all time, she was impossible for him to read, save for those rare occasions when she let him peek inside that fascinating brain of hers. Everyone had layers, like an onion, but Sawyer was like the coconuts she always smelled of. You had to be fucking determined if you wanted to get to the heart of her. He liked to think he was slowly making progress. While he was beginning to suspect this attraction wasn’t just one-sided—and he would happily throw Rule #2 out the window—Rule #1: No feelings, had to stay if he wanted any hope of coming out of this in one piece.

Lifting one finger, he traced the pattern of her tights until he found the run. Following it down to the source, he curled his fingertip, tucking it inside and tugging lightly. Sawyer inhaled sharply, and he could feel her thighs pressing together beneath his grip, her hips tilting forward. He removed his hand from her thigh before he could be tempted to do more, shifting in his seat to hide the evidence of how effective her distraction had been.

It was the longest dinner of Mason’s life.

After dessert, when Bex and Lynn announced they had to head out, Moira and Antonio piggybacking on their exit, Mason sighed in relief. Normally, this was his favorite part of the night. When the parents left and they could drop the act, stop reciting the same old bits, and just be . Normally, he would’ve seen them off and slipped into a food-induced coma on Luis’s couch. But he’d been too on edge to eat or drink as much as he usually did on holidays, and he latched on to their departure as a way to make his own exit. He knew he needed to talk to his family, but tonight had been long enough already. He wanted to slip off into the night with Sawyer and do whatever it was her subtle looks had been implying they might do.

As Lynn hugged his parents goodbye, Bex cornered him by the coat closet. “Mason, I am so sorry,” she said for easily the tenth time.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “It had to come out eventually. You couldn’t have known.”

Still, she frowned regretfully. Her attention snagged over his shoulder, and he followed her gaze. Sawyer in her yellow coat, doubling back to grab the last scattered glasses from the living room, despite Margot and Luis’s many insistences to “just leave it.”

“Well,” she sighed. “At least you have a beautiful distraction for the rest of the night.”

Mason laughed. “It’s not like that.” Though he desperately hoped it was about to become Like That.

Bex snorted. “Okay,” she said, though it sounded like Yeah, right . “I must have hallucinated you two eye fucking each other all night whenever you thought the other wasn’t looking.”

He opted not to respond, because he had definitely been doing that, but he thought he’d been subtle enough not to get caught.

Bex gave him a knowing smile before bringing him in for a hug. “I’m really, truly sorry, but I meant everything I said. This is the right move for you.” She hazarded a glance at their parents, who were still saying the world’s longest goodbye. “Don’t let anything make you doubt that.” With one last meaningful glance, she ushered her mother and his parents out the door before they could drag out leaving for another half hour.

Luis appeared at his side almost immediately, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled slowly. “We did it.” Turning toward him, Luis studied him closely. “You alright?”

Mason took his time answering as he shrugged on his coat, his attention half on Sawyer as she disappeared down the hallway, slipping into the powder room. “I’m good,” he said automatically. “But I owe you an apology—”

Luis waved that away. “Tomorrow’s problem. Besides, I kept dating your sister a secret for months. By my math, we’re even now.”

“I’ve been working on Guiding Light for years.”

Luis shrugged. “Well, I never said I was good at math. Anyhow, you’ve told me about it. I was just in denial that one day it would become real and I might lose you. It’s been great having you back in Chi, but you haven’t been happy working on Diagnostics in years. I want you to love what you do again.”

Gratitude for his best friend swelled in his chest, and there weren’t words for how much Mason appreciated him, so he pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you. For everything. And for dinner. Food was great, as usual.”

Luis clapped him on the back before pulling away, keeping his voice low even though everyone else had already left. The boys had been put to bed hours ago, the only sound Margot pouring herself a glass of wine in the next room. “She’s great,” Luis hedged carefully, jerking his head in the direction Sawyer had disappeared to.

Mason shook his head adamantly. “I told you—it’s not like that.” He’d said it so many times tonight, the words seemed to have lost their meaning.

Luis nodded. “I know. But do you?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he said under his breath.

As he spoke, Sawyer reappeared, her yellow coat like a beacon at the end of the hall.

“Your face says otherwise,” Luis muttered.

Sawyer reached them at that moment, so he couldn’t have responded—even if he knew how.

“Thank you so much for having me,” she said warmly, embracing Luis like an old friend.

Margot reappeared with her goblet of wine, kissing Sawyer on both cheeks. “It was so lovely to meet you, and thank you for the book recommendations. I hope we see you again soon.”

His sister had never said that to any of his girlfriends, and he didn’t think it was simply the wine talking. Sawyer had made Margot laugh more than once during dinner, and Margot wasn’t an easy one to crack. He’d even seen Sawyer and Bex swapping numbers before she left. When she pulled back from Margot and Luis and caught his eye, he couldn’t ignore the slight raise in his spirits.

Fuck.

Luis was right.

He’d done it again.

He liked Sawyer Greene and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it except let her ruin him.

They walked to his car in silence, Mason too in his head to notice that Sawyer was watching him curiously, only coming to when she placed her hand atop his when he opened the car door for her.

Narrowing her eyes, she scrutinized him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I didn’t even finish the glass of wine I poured hours ago.”

Sawyer nodded. “I know. That wasn’t what I meant.”

He breathed in deeply, the cold winter air bringing his thoughts back into focus. Get it together, West. Tonight had been long, and he didn’t want to think about his family or Guiding Light or LA, much less talk about it. “Still thinking about your tights.” There. Back to their usual teasing.

Sawyer’s brows rose slowly, her lips parting slightly. Composing herself, she ducked into the car, and Mason took a few more gulps of the frigid air. It helped, but when he settled into the driver’s seat, glancing sidelong at Sawyer as she shrugged out of her coat, he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“Did you lose your bra between the bathroom and the car?”

She blinked up at him innocently. “I didn’t lose it.” She plucked it out of her coat pocket and twirled it like a party favor.

The back of Mason’s head hit the headrest with a thud.

“What?” Sawyer laughed. “It’s a long drive. I wanted to be comfortable.” The laughter faded from her voice, dropping to a husky whisper. “That okay with you?”

He took a steadying breath before leaning across the center console, reaching for her seat belt and clicking it into place. “Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make you more—” He adjusted the strap across her chest, letting his knuckle graze over her peaked nipple, her breath hitching. “Comfortable.” He swore her legs squeezed tighter together. A thrill ran through him. “If there’s anything else you want to take off, be my guest.”

She nodded jerkily, her voice a rasp. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

It was an effort to pull back from her. He counted to three before starting the car.

He was grateful to lose himself in the familiar drive, silently drinking in the beauty of Lake Shore Drive at night. He definitely wasn’t overthinking how their usual taunting banter had progressed into something physical. He may have gotten a little too lost in the drive, going into autopilot as all their teasing touches replayed in his mind, realizing a beat too late he’d missed the exit to Sawyer’s place. “Shit.”

“It’s alright. Take the next one.”

He definitely wasn’t overanalyzing the faraway sound of her voice.

“Take a right here.”

His brows knit together, trying to make out the dark street. “Sawyer, this is a parking lot.”

“I know,” she said tightly. “Could you pull over?”

And just like that, he was officially overthinking. She’d sensed the shift, too, was going to tell him that this wasn’t a good idea, that they’d pushed too far tonight, to remember their rules. Or, worse, that they should stop this ridiculous mission altogether. His heart rammed against his rib cage at the thought. No. They still had another week—at least.

He was bracing himself to fight for her, when she undid her seat belt, kicking off her pinup girl shoes—a fantasy he didn’t know he had until he saw her wearing them. She leaned over, swinging her leg across the console. He shifted automatically to make room for her to straddle his lap.

He had no idea what they were doing, but some vague sense of self-preservation told him that whatever it was, it was definitely against the rules and they probably shouldn’t be doing it. He promptly ignored that ridiculous notion. Of course they should be doing this.

He exhaled shakily, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intent on his, asking him if this was okay. He nodded, not daring to speak lest he say the wrong thing and break the spell, because he was utterly spellbound. There was a hunger and determination in her gaze as she slowly untied her dress, the dark green velvet falling open like wrapping paper to the best Christmas present he had ever—or would ever—receive.

Tearing his eyes away from her chest, he glanced up at her for permission. She gave him a small smile, nodding once.

Leaning in, he breathed in her ever-present coconut smell, placing a small kiss between her breasts as his hands came up to gently squeeze them, his thumbs rubbing over her peaked nipples. She made a noise of approval, arching her back, egging him on impatiently. He grinned as he took one nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before allowing his teeth to scrape over it. She moaned, shifting her weight on his lap and rubbing herself against his thigh.

His cock throbbed, straining against his slacks, but he didn’t dare reach down, not even to readjust himself. He directed his attention to her other breast, and she ground against his leg once more, groaning in frustration.

“Mason,” she panted.

He dragged one of his hands up her thigh. “Need some help?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”

Biting down on his lip, he slid one of his fingers into the run of her tights, the one she’d been taunting him with all night. “Can I—?”

She glanced down, her lips parting as she inhaled sharply. “Yes.”

He gripped her thigh roughly, bunching the fabric under his grasp and tugging. The hose gave a satisfying rip, and he grinned victoriously. Fucking finally.

With another tug, the run reached the top, where the waistband refused to yield, but Mason wasn’t easily deterred. This was undeniably the hottest thing he’d ever done. He knew without a doubt that, for as long as he lived, this would remain the hottest thing he ever did.

From the fire burning in Sawyer’s eyes, they were on the same page about that.

Slipping his hand beneath what remained of her tights, he pushed her panties aside, moaning at how wet she was. He traced a fingertip along her seam, parting her folds, alternating teasing her entrance and her clit.

When he eased one finger into her, she fell back against the steering wheel. A honk sounded out in the dead of night, but for all the reaction Sawyer gave, he didn’t think she even realized. She ground against his hand impatiently, and he pulled out of her, teasing her before sliding in two fingers. She angled her hips so his hand was flush against her, grinding on his hand and his thigh. She let out a tiny gasp of pleasure as his other hand came up to brush against her nipple.

He groaned as he felt her hand cupping him through his pants.

“Can I?”

“Yes. Yes ,” he rasped.

With his permission, she had his zipper down and his cock in her hand in a flash. She pumped him slowly, running her thumb over the tip before resuming her slow pleasuring of herself atop his hand. He shifted so the heel of his hand could press gently down upon her clit, and she whimpered, bucking slightly. Fucking hell. She was close already, but goddamn if he wasn’t, too. It had been a little over a month since they’d slept together, but it felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to touch her again.

He eased his cock from her hands, and she made a tiny noise of protest. “I got this.”

Her eyes fluttered shut and she nodded, slowly rocking back and forth on his hand. Mason dropped his head back against the headrest as he worked himself and her closer to the edge. They locked eyes for a moment, Sawyer’s mouth falling open on a sound caught in her throat. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but she hadn’t kissed him, and he wasn’t sure it was allowed. He hadn’t thought what they were currently doing was allowed, but here they were, doing it, in his fucking car in some random fucking parking lot.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she bowed forward, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. He momentarily forgot about pleasuring himself as her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, her teeth biting into his shoulder as climax seized her.

Her head fell back, and the unguarded bliss on her slack mouth as he brought her back down nearly undid him. She pressed her forehead against his, lifting her hips slightly so he could ease his fingers out of her. Grabbing hold of his wrist, she brought his fingers to her lips and sucked.

Mason loosed a long sigh mingled with a moan, her other hand gently nudging his out of the way as she claimed his cock.

Tearing his gaze from hers, his attention drifted from the sight of his fingers in her red-painted mouth, to the untied dress, to her exposed breasts and ripped tights, to her hand around his shaft.

This woman really was trying to ruin him.

“Sawyer,” he growled. She grinned, allowing his fingers to fall from her mouth, his hand grabbing the first thing it landed on—her hip—and squeezing roughly as his own orgasm barreled through him, his release coming out in a splash across her stomach. She stroked him slowly through the last throes before rubbing her thumb across his tip and bringing it to her mouth as she sank back into her own seat.

Mason couldn’t do anything but watch her as she shimmied out of her torn tights, using them to wipe his come off her stomach before carefully folding them up and tucking them into her coat pocket—presumably the same pocket as the bra she’d taken off that had started this whole thing.

Her head lolled against the headrest, her eyes connecting with his watchful gaze as she clumsily retied her dress. “Merry Christmas.”

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