My Best Friend's Brother(18)

"Okay. One more time," she said.


"Perfect. Thank you. Why don't you just come over to my place Wednesday evening?"


"You're not going to pick me up?" she asked.


"I figured if there's no chemistry, you can at least have a way to get  yourself home. We've stayed out of the cameras for now. No use risking  it if this could be our last date."


"Makes sense," she said. "Though I'm going to miss the wind in my hair."


"Trust me. If you admit to feeling what I know you do, there'll be plenty of car rides with the top down in your future."


Silence descended on the conversation again, and I was praying I hadn't  overstepped a boundary. I heard her draw in a deep breath before she  sighed, and I sat down on the edge of my hotel bed as I fiddled with the  room key in my hand.


"I'll be there around seven," she said.


"I'm looking forward to it."


I hung up the phone and promptly packed my things. There was no reason  for me to stay here any longer, especially with the time I was spending  in my Dallas home with her. I made sure to grab all my stuff before I  made my way down to the front desk, and then I checked out early before I  headed to my car. I shot Tony a text message with my address, telling  him that's where I'd be for the rest of our Dallas stay if he needed me.


Then, I got into my car and set off for the house.


I needed to make sure I had all the ingredients I needed to cook her a wonderful meal for dinner tomorrow.




Chapter 15


Sarah


Driving to Mason's house, I felt my hands gripping hard on my steering  wheel. I was nervous, and rightfully so. He was right when we talked  yesterday. Our chemistry was undeniable. The pull I feel toward him and  the pull he apparently feels toward me was unmistakable. Addicting. Hard  to turn down. I knew I was trekking into dangerous territory, into a  luring nighttime scenario that could very well end with me naked in his  bed.


I shivered with delight at the thought even as my mind chastised me.


You can't do this. Rein it in. He's Emma's brother.


Even with the men I'd dated, I'd never experienced anything like this  before, the longing my body had for his and the aching in the pit of my  gut when I wasn't around him. Did he blow up my phone incessantly? Yes.  Did I enjoy every second of it? Oh, yes. The idea of bringing a rich,  stuck-up playboy to his knees made me shiver to my core. It was  something no other woman had been capable of. Sometimes Mason did a  second date. But a third? Never.         

     



 


And this groveling? I'm sure Mason probably saw it as beneath him.


Yet he was still doing it.


Either way, I had to stand my ground. I had to go into this dinner, act  like there wasn't any chemistry, and leave without a second thought. No  sleeping with him, no signals that showed I want to, and most certainly,  no close quarter touching. His fingertips on my skin were electric, and  the moment I allowed him to touch me, it was over.


I'd be done for.


I pulled up into his driveway and shut off my car. Some of the lights  were on in his house, and I could smell the food he was cooking all the  way outside. My mouth began to salivate as my stomach lurched in hunger,  and I nearly forgot what I was doing. I forgot that I was trying to  prove to Mason that we didn't have any chemistry and that we couldn't be  together. I sat back in my car and inhaled the scents, smiling as I  thought about what Mason would've looked like dancing around a kitchen.


His strong arms flailing and his long legs carrying him about. His  dexterous fingers sprinkling seasonings onto the food as his perfect  pouty lower lip wrapped around a tasting spoon. I shivered as my mind  drifted elsewhere. To his lips wrapping around my swollen clit. To his  dexterous fingers parting my pussy folds as I lunged my hips into his  face.


Stop it, Sarah. He's your best friend's douchebag brother.


I got out of my car and approached the porch. I knocked on the door,  waiting for him to answer as I heard someone striding down the hallway.  The door whipped open, and I smiled up at him, losing myself in his  beautiful eyes as a grin crossed my cheeks.


"I was wondering when you were getting out of that car," he teased.


"It smells delicious, even out there," I said. "What in the world are you cooking?"


"Lemon-basil chicken stuffed with brie, feta, and bacon with lemon-crusted roasted vegetables and garlic potatoes."


"I'm already salivating," I said as I stepped inside.


"I've set the table. If you'd like to go take a seat, I was just grabbing the wine."


I shrugged my coat off and he helped it down my arms. Already I could  feel the heat from his skin cascading down my back, and I took a step  away from him. I dropped my purse to the floor, and he picked it up, his  eyes never leaving mine as he hooked both of my items up onto his coat  rack.


"You look stunning, Sarah," he said.


"Oh, this old thing? It was stuffed in the back of my closet," I said.


"Some of the best things in life are stuffed," he said, grinning.


I held my breath as my mind conjured an image of him plunging his cock between my legs.


"Like my chicken," he said, chuckling. "Let me go get our wine."


"Like your chicken, indeed," I said, murmuring.


"What was that, beautiful?" he asked.


"I said I bet I'm going to like your chicken," I called back.


I slowly made my way to his dining room table and sat at one of the  place settings. Suddenly, a glass was sat in front of me before his arm  extended around my neck. He slowly poured the white wine, filling the  glass as his cologne filled my nose. I could feel my body giving way to  him, even at the dinner table as I leaned my cheek onto his clothed  bicep.


He stopped pouring the wine and stood there for a second, allowing me to soak him up before he moved.


"So," he said as he poured his wine and sat down. "How was the drive over?"


"Not too bad," I said as I put my napkin in my lap. "Not as fun as your convertible, but it was pleasant."


"Well, maybe I could take you on a drive later and let you fly your hair in the wind like you adore so much," he said.


I watched him take a bite of his vegetables, his lips curling around his  fork. The way he moaned, rolling his eyes at his own food, it reminded  me of a pride that was there. A pride that was both infuriating and  sensual. He was confident in his capabilities, not overly critical when  it didn't matter. His strong jaw chewed his food, savoring the tastes as  my eyes cascaded down his body. The candlelight on the table cast sharp  shadows around his entire body, and for a moment, all I could do was  sit back and take in the beauty of him.


I hadn't realized how long I was staring until his chuckle graced my ears.


"Enjoying the view?" he asked.


"Sorry. Sorry," I said as I speared some food. "Just distracted."


"I can tell," he said, smirking.


"Oh, my gosh," I said, moaning. "These vegetables are incredible. Who in the world taught you how to cook like this?"


"My father. He's a wonderful cook in the kitchen. It was something my mother didn't know how to do well, so he took it over."         

     



 


"Well, it's incredible. If this technology company goes belly-up, you've got a career in food," I said.


"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I enjoy cooking, and I hear many a  chef complaining about how they don't enjoy personally cooking at home  anymore because of their career choice. I enjoy cooking for others. I  enjoy watching the happiness it brings to their faces. Even when people  are at their worst, they always seem to be able to set it aside for good  food."


"Isn't that the truth."


I took a bite of the chicken and practically melted into my chair. I  didn't care how ridiculous I looked, this was the best dinner I'd ever  had in my life. Better than any restaurant in Dallas I'd ever visited,  and that was saying something. We ate in relative silence as we both  hummed over the luscious foods, but then I felt something underneath the  table.


Mason's foot slowly scooting toward mine.


All of this was so romantic and so wonderfully cooked that I had  completely forgotten about the purpose of this dinner. Mason was trying  to show me we had chemistry, and I was trying to show him we didn't.


And the flush creeping up into my cheeks wasn't doing my argument any favors.


"Care for some more wine?" he asked.


"If I have any more wine, I'm going to have to camp out on your couch," I said, giggling.


"I would most certainly not allow you to sleep on my couch," he said. "You would sleep in my bed."


"Yeah, with you right next to me."


"Oh, that would most certainly be the plan, yes."


I looked up into his shining eyes, those eyes that whispered of mischief  and magic. I was looking back into the demon's eyes. His tempting  muscles and his long neck were begging for my teeth. My fingernails. My  marks as I writhed against his skin. I watched him pour me another glass  of wine as the skin on my arms began to prickle. The heat his body was  emitting drenched me in his presence, and I shivered physically as he  backed away and sat down.