Mason (10:52AM): You aren’t going to win this one, angel- let it go. What time do you get out?
Me (11:00AM): I will win Rat boy, and 1:00 but I’ve got to work on a project this afternoon. Why? What’s up?
Mason (11:04AM): I like when you call me Rat. Want to grab a bite to eat tonight? You have to stop to eat, right?
Me (11:06AM): Don’t worry, that will be the last time I ever call you that.
Mason (11:07AM): What’s wrong with rats? Templeton was a cute little guy… he was always helping out that girl and the pig.
Me (11:10AM): What’s wrong with rats? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Whats wrong with rats? Rats are disgusting, disease-infested, repulsive rodents. Ewww
Mason (11:14AM): Cartoon rats, angel! Sweet, fluffy cartoon rats…
Me (11:17AM): Like Pinky and the Brain? Two sweet, fluffy cartoon rats… ha!
Mason (11:18AM): Mickey Mouse
Me (11:20AM): Splinter
Mason (11:23AM): Remy from Ratatouille
Me (11:25AM): Jerry, he was a mean little shit to poor Tom
Mason (11:29AM): Fievel Mouskewitz
Me (11:37AM): You really know Fievel’s last name? You should be hiding somewhere in shame right now. Just wait until I share that tidbit of info with the rest of Jobu’s Rum.
Mason (11:44AM): Haha, blackmail does not become you, angel.
Me (11:50AM): It’s not blackmail if I don’t want anything in return
Mason (11:54AM): Are you always so giving? Never wanting anything in return for yourself?
Me (11:57AM): I’m good, I don’t need anything
Mason (12:02PM): You don’t think you need anything, but I can show you otherwise… come to dinner with me tonight, I’ll show you a little of what you’re missing
Me (12:15PM): pick me up at 6:00
Mason (12:15PM): cool
As soon as my last class ended, I rushed back to the apartment, anxious to get started on my project so that I could finish up in time to shower and freshen up before Mason picked me up. I was excited to see him again, not having to wait until Friday after all; however, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being more than a little nervous. When I had messed around with him the previous weekend, I truly didn’t think I would ever talk to him again, much less be having dinner with him four nights later. I wasn’t sure what he was going to expect from me. A repeat performance? More? I shuddered in anticipation just thinking about it.
Evie had gone straight from her last class to a study group session with one of her other classes, so I was left to my own opinions while getting ready. The only other time Mason had seen me I was wearing Evie’s clothes, so I was curious to see his reaction when I was dressed in my own style. I was in a blue and white striped casual summer dress, as it was still in the high 70s here some nights, paired with none other than my old faithful boots. I braided my hair into two braids since I was pressed for time, and at five ‘til six, a knock on the door pulled me from my final inspection in the bathroom mirror. I grabbed my purse and greeted Mason with a huge smile and an open-mind.
“Oh, wow,” he said, not hiding the fact he was looking up and down my body. “You look even better than I remembered.” His words made my heart flutter, and when he stepped towards me and kissed me softly on the lips, my stomach began a string of endless somersaults. He looked exactly as I had remembered- tall, strong, handsome, and dangerous. He was dressed similar to how he had been on Friday, dark jeans and a solid gray fitted t shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. I wondered if we looked a little mismatched. He definitely looked the part of a lead in a rock band with all of his tattoos and piercings, and I looked… well I kind of looked like a farm girl.
“Damn, angel, the hair and the boots…” He lightly tugged on my pigtails, his eyes sparkled mischievously. “Are you trying to kill me?” I guess he liked the farm girl look.
I shook my head and looked down at my feet. “Is this okay for wherever we are going?”
“You look perfect. Come on, I have something I want you to see.” Mason grabbed my hand and led me down the hall and out to the parking lot. I looked around for his car as we approached the visitor parking area, but didn’t see it. Instead, a brand new black Harley Davidson was parked in the first spot of the paved section. I stopped walking and looked at him incredulously.
“Tell me you didn’t buy a motorcycle.” It came out more like a question than a statement, but I already knew the answer. It was staring directly at me. He smirked and replied, “Well, I hated to disappoint you, angel. I just got it today.”
I walked closer to it, inspecting it like I knew something, anything, about motorcycles. All I could tell is that it’s black and shiny and a Harley. I was glad that at least he hadn’t gotten a crotch rocket; there was no way in hell I was getting on one of those. “Why?” I wondered as I looked up in his slate eyes.
“Well, now I’m the total package, right?” He waggled his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but throw my head back in laughter.
“Your package was just fine before the bike,” I replied.
He stepped behind me, pulled my back to his chest by wrapping his colorful arms around my mid-section, and seductively said in my ear, “I’m glad you enjoyed my package so much...”
Giggling, I turned around to face Mason and loved seeing the playfulness in his expression. I draped my arms around his neck and attempted the same sultry voice that he had used moments earlier, “It’s the most magnificent package I’ve ever seen.” And I pressed a light peck at the corner of his mouth. He groaned and pulled my lips back to his, demanding a longer, more intimate kiss. “Don’t say things like that Scarlett. We’ll never make it to dinner,” he groaned into my mouth.
I pulled back a bit and looked down out my outfit, wondering if I should change out of my dress to get on the motorcycle. As if he could read my mind, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the parking lot. “Don’t even think about it. One of the main reasons I bought this damn thing is to feel your arms and legs wrapped around me while we ride. And its even better if you’re wearing a skirt.”
I knew better than to think that he wouldn’t have a line of girls waiting to snuggle up to his chiseled body, but I was flattered that I was going to be the first on his new toy. At least I was going to be his first something.
“Seriously, why did you buy the bike?” I asked.
Mason shrugged his shoulders as if going out and buying a motorcycle was an everyday occurrence. “I’ve wanted one for a while so when you said something the other day about how you were surprised I didn’t have one, it made me wondered why I didn’t. So, I got one.”
“Well, of course you did,” I said sarcastically. “Did you pick me up a car while you were out?”
“You don’t have a car?”
“Uh, no. My parents thought if I had a car, there would be a better chance of me sneaking out at night or running away,” I admitted.
“Wow, that’s so… so weird. You’re lucky you turned out so normal,” he said with a confused face. I loved Mason’s honesty and unapologetic comments. Much like a child, the filter from his brain to his mouth left quite a bit to be desired for many, but I appreciated his candidness.
“Don’t be so sure that I am all that normal.”
He kissed me quickly one more time before throwing his right leg over the bike and starting it. I inhaled sharply at the sight of him perched on the rumbling Harley. I had been right- it did complete the package. The vision of Mason sitting on that motorcycle oozed sex straight from his dark buzzed hair down to the chrome spokes on the wheels. I unconsciously squeezed my upper thighs together, trying to ease the ache that emerged.
“Get on, let’s give you your first motorcycle ride and get some dinner.” He flashed me that panty-dropping smile and his eyes locked on mine. I happily obliged.
Dinner went much like our breakfast together had. He took me to his favorite burger place, so it was nice and casual. We joked around about funny things we lost ourselves in on the internet. I admitted my strange obsession with the websites that showed auto-corrected text conversations. I could spend hours upon hours reading those and laugh until I was crying. He confessed to spending endless hours surfing YouTube watching anything and everything. We ranked childhood cartoons and best infomercials. My vote was still for either the Sham-wow or the Ginsu knives, but Mason was a strong supporter of the Slap Chop.
Our conversation rarely led us to discuss our pasts or any serious topics. We openly flirted and without blatantly engaging in PDA, we would each find an excuse to touch or brush up against the other. That in itself became a game to see who was willing to go the furthest without the other acknowledging what was happening. It began innocent enough with his hand brushing against mine on the table. In response I crossed my legs so that my foot rested against his calf. We continued the back and forth and then the next thing I knew, his hand had traveled up my thigh, under my dress, and was lightly tracing circles on my inner thigh, just inches from my blue lace panties. I could feel myself getting wet just at the thought of his fingers touching me, and the fact that we were in public and holding a normal conversation about which cereal was better, made it even more hot.