Mason:Inked Reapers MC(26)

The garage filled with our grunts and moans, the slapping of our bodies  as we continued to move in our frenzied race to the finish. His hand  roamed around my belly, until he found my clit. The pad of his thumb  pressed down and I threw my head back, crying out from the pleasure  shooting through my body. He pinched and rolled the sensitive bud while  he continued to plow his cock into me again and again.



I looked over my shoulder at him to find him staring at me intently. His  bottom lip had disappeared, being bitten down on by his teeth. Dark  eyes melded into my gaze and he increased the strength of his movements.



"Fuck," he growled. "You're even tighter this way." His fingers  continued to move over my clit, driving me faster toward the brink.

I lifted my right foot and placed it on a small stool that was near me.  He growled again and drove harder into me. "Harder, Mason. Please." I  moved with him, fucking him as much as he was fucking me.



"Fuck." He reached up and grabbed my hair at the base of my scalp,  pulling my head back toward him. The new sensation, the new shot of pain  running through me pushed me closer and closer to the explosion I was  looking for. He moved his hand from my hip and wrapped it over my  shoulder, pulling me to him with each strong stroke. "Goddamn. Come for  me, baby. Come right now." He continued to ride me.



My body listened to him as though he truly was its owner. The orgasm  that had been slowly building inside of me burst out and shattered me. I  screamed with each wave of its intensity. He drove harder and faster  into me, grunting out his own release.



I rested my forehead on the workbench, not giving a damn that it was  probably covered with dirt and grime. I needed to catch my breath. Mason  peeled his fingers away from my shoulder, and let go of my hair as he  took deep ragged breaths. When he was ready, he pulled away from me,  walking away to a trashcan in the corner.



"Two weeks?" I smoothed my dress down and combed my fingers through my  hair. He took the belt from my hands and slid it back into the loops  around his waist.



"Yeah." His eyes darkened. "About Jayson-"



"I don't want to talk about him." I shook my head. I turned to walk  away, but he grabbed me, pulled me back to him, holding me close to his  chest.



"I know you don't. But we are going to anyway," he said with his chin  resting on the top of my head. I closed my eyes and breathed in the  scent of him, trying to memorize the smell. For all I knew, he wouldn't  be returning from this job he was going on. I wanted the memory,  something to keep me from going insane while Jayson continued to make my  life hell. "Tick is coming with me, so he can't stop in at the club to  keep an eye on you-you'll be on your own." He said it as though it were  some failing on his part.



"Mason, I've been taking care of myself this whole time. I can make it another two weeks."



"You won't be able to keep his hands off of you." His voice wavered, and  I could tell the idea of having Jayson anywhere near me was physically  hurting him. I couldn't blame him. The memory of that girl with Mason's  cock in her mouth still made my chest tighten and choke the breath from  my lungs. It wasn't fair to make Mason deal with this, to know some  other guy was using me, touching me. I couldn't ask him to continue down  this road.                       
       
           



       



"Maybe we should-"



"My belt won't feel so good now after two spankings. Better watch what you're going to say."

"Fine." I let out a long breath. He was right. I'd already tried the  logical approach with him. "You're okay with this? With Jayson making me  live in his apartment? Me cleaning and cooking for him, fucking him  when he stumbles into bed at night?" I shoved away from him. He could  pretend all he wanted, but there was no good side the situation.



"Lucy," he warned, with his voice and his eyes, but I ignored him.



"No. You know I can't fight him. You know he's going to fuck me, make me  do all the dirty things he's always made me do. How can you look at me  like I'm not the whore that I am?" Tears now ran down my cheeks and I  didn't bother to wipe them away. I hugged myself, stepping back when he  looked like he would spring forward to touch me. Instead of reaching for  me, his shoulders dropped, his mouth tightened.



"If you ever call yourself that again, a spanking will be the least of  the punishments coming your way." His voice was hard, harder than I'd  ever heard it. He pointed a finger at me. "You are no fucking whore-not  like that. I hate the fucking idea of that asshole touching you, and if I  could go over there right now and tear him in two, I would. I will get  back here as soon as I can." He stepped toward me, stalking me as i  stepped away. I couldn't handle his touch. If he touched me, he would  make me melt. Make me believe things were going to work out for us, but I  knew they wouldn't.



My retreat ended when I bumped into the wall. He flashed me a wicked  grin as he trapped me further by putting his hands on the wall on either  side of me, and pushing his body against mine. I looked up at him,  ready to tell him to move, to beg him to let me go, but his lips  captured mine before I was able to get out one sound.



Everything in me softened. The tension disappeared, the fear, the anger,  all washed away with his possessive kiss. His hands moved to cup my  face, holding me where he wanted me, where I wanted to be. Under him,  under his power, and his command. He didn't yield, not one inch, until  he was ready, and even then he continued to hold me close to him, our  noses touching, our eyes locked without each other.



"I will get you out of there. I promise." A vow, spoken low and with  more determination than I had ever heard him use. "Sit tight. I will  make him pay for everything, I swear it."



I couldn't do anything except blink, another tear slipping down my cheek. "I don't want you



to get hurt," I whispered.



"It's gonna take a lot more than Jayson and some cartel assholes to keep  me away from you." He gave me another kiss, shorter but with as much  power as the first. "Keep your phone on you at all times. I will text as  soon as possible. If you need me, if you need anything you text me.  I'll get someone out here to help. Do you understand?"



"Yeah." I nodded.



He wiped the tears from my cheeks and released me. The cool air brushed  against me without him pressed against me and I wanted to pull him back.  I wanted to wrap myself around his waist and beg him to stay. To take  me with him. Not to leave me behind. But I knew he couldn't. He had to  do this, had to take care of whatever he was being sent on. I could  handle another week, I could do that for him. For us.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



MASON





Getting into Mexico couldn't have been easier. They practically opened  their arms to us at the border. Except for the dirty look they gave  Tick. It was the tattoos on his head; I warned him about those. My tats  were pretty easy to cover up with sleeves. We just looked like two  American guys headed down to Mexico for a week's vacation. The border  patrol never even questioned the need for such a large van for just two  guys.



Getting back through to go home would be different. We knew that and  still hadn't figured out how to get across the border without being  stopped. I hoped Bernardo would have some ideas. Spending a decade or  two in prison was not on my bucket list of things to do. Massy promised  to kill Tick if anything happened to him on this trip.



"Shit." Tick whistled as we turned down the last road toward Bernardo's  place. A fucking fortress was laid out before us. Two men stood outside a  guard tower holding machine guns. Thankfully, Tick remembered enough  Spanish from high school to tell him who we were and they let us  through-after making a quick call to the house.



Several men stood at the front steps of the massive home watching us  pull up the drive. Once I parked the van, two of them left the pack and  headed to my door.                       
       
           



       



"Mason Day." The man that opened my door did not look like any drug  dealer or thug I'd ever seen. He sported a tailor made suit, with shoes  that undoubtedly could pay my mom's rent for a few months. His dark hair  was slicked back, and not a single tooth was missing.



"That's me." I hopped out of the van and offered my hand. "That there is  Tick." I nodded toward Tick, who stood at the front of the van looking  more uncomfortable than he had at the border.