Aftermath Book Two Crash Series

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Aria

            “You think she’s here yet?” Mason whisper from behind me. His hand is on my waist as we make our way back to the kitchen. Our thirst for one another quelched for a moment.

            “What are the chances she went straight home to your father?” I whisper back, slowing my steps, while I yank both halves of my bun pulling it tighter before patting down my shirt. Mason’s “perfect” suit is rumpled and I imagine my outfit is similar. Although his is black enough to keep the wrinkles to a minimum and his hair is naturally wild and sexy.

            My purposeful messy bun is just straight up I just got f****d messy bun now with no chance of taming it without a shower or some product, thank you wavey-frizzy hair. Plus, I’m wearing a yellow shirt and black leggings that already have flour, yolk, and baking mess all over them, add in the clearly wrinkled clothes and I look a mess, not a hot mess just a legit crazy woman mess.

            “She’ll only go to my father when she has all the facts if she hasn’t found them elsewhere, which she won’t, she’s probably already in there. We should sneak out the back door.” Using his grip on my waist he turns me around tilting his head in the direction of our escape. His eyes are wide and pleading, with promises of more good times and a peaceful day if I help him escape his mother's interrogation, but there’s no escaping Cynthia so we might as well get it over with.

            “I want to but I have too much work, something I know you can relate too.” Raising my brows up ay him I c**k out my hip and dare him to refute me.

            “How about I escape out the back door and you take this one for the team.” He corners me against the wall, his hands push me back as his feet shuffle forward. My back hits the wall forcing me to turn my neck up to keep his charming face in my frame of vision.

            He holds my gaze while offering me a closed-mouth smile. His hand snakes under my shirt, tickling along the edge of my pants. My skin prickles with pleasure everywhere he touches as I stifle my growing need and meet his cocky smirk with one of my own.

            If I wasn’t still shaking from the last orgasm he gave me I totally would have gladly fallen into his trap. Using his shoulders to pull myself up onto my tiptoes I kiss along his jawline, ending right at his earlobe. Biting down gently I tug at his skin as his touch grows more urgent. He likes his ears played with and his hair scratched.

            Actually, I don’t think there’s a thing I could do to him that wouldn’t turn him on. Thinking about earlier I remember what I said and how true it is. I am lucky to have him, I’m so f*****g lucky. But he isn't perfect, he comes with a nut of a mother and psycho for a father. Funnily enough, it worked out perfect for me because I came with a psycho serial killer ex.  

            “No freaking way! I’ve been entertaining your mother since yesterday. The torch is officially passed over to you.” Like I said she’s been surprisingly better but she’s still Cynthia and a lot to deal with. Now there’s a legit scandal and I don’t know how she’s going to handle it, or how long he’ll be forced to soothe her.

            I for one have a grand opening to prep for and the soup kitchen to get to. Paul wants to talk fundraiser and Sean said him and Jude would be there to volunteer. Slowly he’s getting better. His strength is extremely persevering. I love that they’ll be there tonight, I could use some Jude time, I bet Mason could too, maybe he’ll come along.

            Pushing at his chest he lets me move him back enough to scoot around him. Grabbing his wrist I drag him the rest of the way to the kitchen like a reluctant toddler.

            “I’ll tell you one more time to move out of the way! They need to learn some restraint! They can’t  behave like horny heathens all the time!” Cynthia’s voice is crystal clear through the door right in front of us, leading both of us to pause once more so we can take in a deep breath, prepared for another battle.

            Mason walks in front of me with a seething side glare as he pushes the door forward. There’s a deep grunt when the door hits a wall or more accurately one of the three guys. “Finally!” Cynthia says as Leo moves out of the way allowing us into the kitchen.

            “Did we forget something at the dress fitting?” I look to Cynthia and smile as I walk over to the hooks in the corner and grab a new apron.

            I’m surprised her eyes don’t fall out of her sockets she rolls them so hard. She’s didn’t get to where she is today by being naïve or letting anyone gaslight her when she’s set on a mission of her own making.

            Grace watches on curiously while pretending to work on the apple filling recipe. It looks like she finished rolling out the crust I was working on too. She’s already proving to be a great employee at the very least that’s worth it.

            “Yes, you forgot we needed to discuss your engagement party. Lovely that you’re here Mason. We can iron out all the details. No need to delay it any longer than we have already. Betsy’s been harping on about it for weeks now. We mustn't wait any longer.” She holds her chin high with her purse slung over her shoulder. Her hands on her hips and she’s tapping her foot in impatience, Mason didn’t just learn how to command from his father, she’s great at it too.

            Mason’s arm slings back over my shoulder as he smiles at his mother, he’s happy as can be that I’m being forced into this conversation. Sighing my shoulder droop, Some of these pies are going to have to wait till tomorrow.            

            “It smells great Grace! Make as many pies as you can until lunch gets here! I’ll help after lunch, Tara said should be in soon too!” Honestly, I’d trade places with Grace in a second, I’d much rather make apple pies than go back to the office, where I know it still smells like s*x with Mason’s mom and talks more about breaking Edward's arm.

            He seems to be handling it well, better than I would be. I just hope he isn’t masking it, I know all too well how much easier that is than embracing the pain and disappointment.