Mase frowned at that. “Yeah, sorry she made me do two. She’s coming now, so we can go.”
I nodded.
Aida’s laughter trailed behind us as we walked toward the truck. “I love dancing!” she squealed loudly into the darkness. “We need to do that more.”
Mase didn’t respond. He walked me toward the driver’s-side door and opened it, then lifted me up and set me on the seat, as if I couldn’t do it myself.
“I can do that without help, you know,” I teased.
He leaned in. “But if you do it, your skirt will ride up, and I’ll see my freckle. Aida’s with us, so I wouldn’t be able to take a lick.”
My face grew warm, and I shivered, thinking of how good it felt when he did that. “Oh,” I managed to reply breathlessly.
“Yeah, oh,” he repeated. “When we walk through that door tonight, I’m bending you over so I can visit my spot.”
Anticipation made my breath hitch. “M’kay,” I said, not knowing how else to respond to that.
“We need to go out dancing next weekend,” Aida said as she opened the passenger door and climbed in.
Mase moved me over and climbed in beside me.
“Reese can come and watch. We can dance all night,” Aida said.
I wasn’t going to watch Mase and Aida dance all night, but I didn’t say anything.
“Glad you enjoyed it, Aida,” Mase said simply.
“I loved it! No one else dances as good as you,” Aida said. Then I felt her gaze on me. I turned toward her and saw a smirk on her face. “I guess Reese doesn’t know how to dance, since you didn’t dance with her all night.”
That stung. A little.
Mase’s hand slid over my thigh. “She can dance.”
“Oh . . . well, then, you must not enjoy dancing with her. It’s OK, Reese. He’s had me to dance with for most of our lives, and we move together like a well-oiled machine.”
I didn’t like the way she said that. There was something off about her tone.
“I love dancing with Reese. Let this go, Aida.” That still didn’t answer my doubt. I was beginning to think maybe Aida was right. He didn’t want to dance with me because he was used to showing off, and I couldn’t show off with him.
Mase let Aida out at his mother’s house with a “good night,” and I knew that was his way of letting her know she wasn’t welcome up at the house with us. I started thinking about what he’d said about bending me over, and I squirmed a little in my seat.
“I didn’t ask you to dance tonight because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to in front of all those people. You seemed nervous, and I didn’t want to add to that. But there is nothing in the world I’d rather do than hold you against me.”
He had waited until Aida was gone to explain, and I appreciated it. I didn’t want her to know I had felt intimidated by them dancing. Leaning over, I kissed his arm. “You’re right. I would have been nervous.”
“Feeling your body move against mine is the ultimate turn-on. If I’d danced with you, I wouldn’t have been able to stay. We might not have made it to the truck before I had my hand up the back of your skirt to cup your luscious ass.”
This time, I laughed. I liked that excuse; it made me feel much better. “Why don’t we go inside, and you can show me exactly what you want me to do? I remember it had something to do with me bending over . . .”
Mase’s eyes lit up with hunger as he grabbed me and pulled me out of the truck. “Not sure I can make it inside,” he said, just before his mouth was on mine. I held on to both his arms and sank into him. His kisses always made me weak in the knees. Nothing else in the world mattered when his mouth moved over mine. He made everything perfect by simply kissing me.
I let out a small cry of protest when he broke the kiss, but his eyes gleamed with excitement and possessiveness.
“Bend over, and hold on to the seat,” he said, in an authoritative tone that made my stomach feel fluttery.
“Out here?” I asked.
He gave me a wicked grin. “No one’s out here, and it’s just a little play, baby. I swear.”
That look on his face could make me do anything. I turned around and did exactly as he said.
“Fuck,” he muttered, as his hands slid up the backs of my thighs until he was pushing my skirt up and over my bottom and I was exposed. His finger ran over my freckle. I couldn’t see it, but I knew where it was. He spent a lot of time there. It was also currently a little sensitive from his lack of shaving last night.
“I don’t like you in short skirts,” he said. “Makes me worry that you’ll bend over and someone else will see this. It’s mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing it.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He was going to kill me with his very sexy words before he even did anything.
“Spread them wider,” he demanded.
His hands took hold of my thighs and pushed them open until I knew I was completely exposed to him. I let out a whimper as his finger slowly traced the heat between my legs.
“So wet,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to my inner thigh. “So soft.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned, feeling my legs tremble.
“I’m not God, baby,” he said, sounding amused. I grinned and held on to the seat in front of me. “But I’m about to take us both to heaven.” I heard his zipper slide down.