Aftermath Book Two Crash Series

Chapter Seventeen

Aria

            I hate waking up. HATE IT.

            I haven’t managed to open my eyes yet, but I don’t have to soul search to know it’s in my best interest to lay here and pretend to sleep until I am sleeping. A deep dreamless sleep filled with a whole lot of nothingness sounds amazing. Brilliant really.  

            Kinda like last night. It’s strange I don’t remember a damn thing from my dreams that are usually littered with nightmares. For a moment I search my memories trying to recall anything at all from the night’s struggles. But the last thing I remember is…

            Cracking my eyes open I groan from the light before my eyes adjust which turns out to be freakier than the light itself. Rolling backward I screech at the set of crystal eyes staring at me. With a rapidly beating heart and a relived laugh, I settle back into the cloud-like pillows.

            “What the f**k?” I groan between laughter as I rub at my eyes trying to orient myself to reality.

            “I was wondering the same damn thing, Babe.” I can hear his own laughter which fuels my embarrassment, turning my cheeks pink and encouraging my heart rate to stay in an exercise state. His fingers tickle a path down my exposed side in a familiar touch. We never got dressed last night after we made love giving him easy access this morning. I can’t complain I love the feel of his rough fingers sliding across my skin.

            Looking at him you would assume his skin is baby smooth. He’s had the money to make his outside appearance as perfect as he wants it so it has always intrigued me that his hands are rough, so similar to a working man's. Don’t get me wrong Mason is a hard worker, but he doesn’t do hard labor that creates scars and callouses like a roofer or mechanic.

            “Waking up sucks! So shut up!” Grabbing the over fluffed pillow beside me I throw it at his face happy when I hear it hit him.

            With a grunt, he catches the pillow before it touches the bed and tosses it behind him. I don’t stand a chance as he rolls on top of me, not wasting a second to start tickling my sides and shoving his beefy rough fingers into my ribs and armpits. He pins me down with his hips wrapped around my own. My bucking and shoving leads me nowhere and as soon as he gets ahold of both of my arms I’m really pinned down and at his mercy.

            Squeaking, screaming, and squirming I try to tug on my hands so I can start defending myself from this brutal attack. “MASON!” I laugh as I try to turn myself under him but he doesn’t let me move an inch. I can just make out the amusement on his face through the haze of my tear-filled eyes. He’s enjoying this way too much.

            “Okay! OKAY! You win!” I give up and tap out realizing I have no resources left in my newly awoken body to keep fighting against his ruthless tickles.

            He doesn’t slide off me instead he rolls us over so I can straddle his hips. Throwing his hands behind his head he relaxes back, looking handsome as hell and happy as f**k. Drying my eyes, I can clearly make out his handsome features as I let my heart settle. It’s rare that we wake together. Usually, I’ll have a nightmare that drives me from bed at random hours, sometimes I never return, or I return only an hour or two before he has to get up and work out before work.

            On the rare occasions when we do wake in bed together, it’s usually Mason waking me up so we can go somewhere and me being grumpy and groggy. But this right now. This is even rarer than that. This is one of those perfect moments of my life. A moment that will be forever as vivid and remembered as my memories with Grandma baking. And as meaningful as the times I danced with my grandparents with a light heart even in my toughest times.

            Shifting back, I take my time taking him in. The dark bags I was joking about last night are dimmer in the daylight. They don’t look so heavy with a smile as bright as his and eyes filled with the warmth and energy that’s radiating out of him. He looks relaxed and happy something I now realize I haven’t seen on him in over a month. Maybe longer.

             He’s always going, pushed forward with motivation and his own need to excel at everything and anything he sets his mind to. I don’t know that he knows how to relax or be still. If he isn’t working he’s working out and if he isn’t working out he’s in a meeting for a charity or to make better connections or attending an obligatory function.

            The few moments he does need to get away or has the opportunity presented itself he’s out on his boat or watching a ball game. But both of those things have only happened twice in the months we’ve been together. And Tuesday he leaves on a trip overseas where he’ll spend the whole time working and not enjoying a second of it. Well, he’s overseas… in beautiful exotic places, I’ve only ever dreamed of.

            I’m happy to be here with him at this moment and I plan to suck it up for as long as I can. I haven’t forgotten the conversation he wants to have. The conversation I know we need to have but I am not ruining this beautifully rare moment for anything. Especially not that.

            “Are you excited about your trip?” His chest is well defined his work in his gym is appreciated by me, daily. But his ink is what really gets me going. It’s so not him or the impression of him he gives off to everyone else. Straight-laced and OCD to the rest of the world but underneath he has a wild and spontaneous side.

            “Not at all.” He relaxes farther into the pillows as he lets his eyes drift down my chest, taking me in in all my morning naked glory.

            “You’re going to Europe and you aren’t excited?” I knew he wouldn’t have any fun planned. If he keeps up at this rate he’ll work himself to a heart attack before he ever has the chance to run for Senate.

            “I’m going for work,” he shrugs like that explains it all. But earth to crazy it doesn’t. If I was going to Europe for work I would be taking full advantage. Sightseeing between every meeting and ordering all sorts of food.

            Oh my god, the food I could order. The experience! I would never ever think to go to Europe and just work. But he’s probably been there countless times. It’s just another office, different co-workers and socialites. But it’s really all the same to a man that can ask for anything and get it moments later.

            “Work or no you need to have fun while you’re there. And I want proof. I won't just take your word for it.” Crossing my arms in front of me has a dual purpose. It gives him the vibe that I’m being serious and he better take it that way and it gives me the chance to cover up the t**s he’s been staring at. Point for me.

            “My schedule is already packed full Crash.” He untucks his left arm so he can run his fingers up my side. Conveniently stopping at my wrist where he gives a good tug and gets the view he wants back. f*****g, point for him. Smug bastard.

            “You’re going for how many days?” Leaning forward I place my hands on his chest, leaning forward enough to use my arms to press against my boobs, accentuating them. If he wanted a good view I’m giving him a great one. Let him remember this while he’s on his trip.

            “I’m hoping to keep it to four days only.” His words are low and drawn out, he’s distracted. Another point for me.

            “Okay well, Four days holds a lot of opportunities to go see some places you’ve never seen. I wonder if they have any ice fishing or maybe a workout class in a super cool location. I’m positive you can find some time to enjoy yourself.” He grabs my waist with a drawn-out groan as I wiggle my ass on his hard c**k.

            “Maybe…” His focus is shattered by lust and passion but mine isn’t and I’m determined to get him to promise. No matter how dirty I have to play. He starts in on my hard n*****s with his warm mouth as he trails his fingers down my ass to my inner thighs. It doesn’t take him much to have my legs spread wider for him.

            His touch is so close to where I want him, where he wants to be but not quite there. And the freaking anticipation is hotter than the actual act. I’m wet, ready, and wanting but I sit back. Forcing his hands to move back to my waist as his mouth unlocks from my n****e with a smack. I cross my arms in front of me again as I glare.

            “Not maybe. Your whole life shouldn’t be work or me or your charities. You need to do some things for yourself before you go insane. So, promise me you’ll go do something interesting. Something fun while you’re in London.” The wicked twinkle I see in his eyes doesn’t bod well with pent-up beast I’ve awoken.

            My core is already heated, I’m already wet and ready, but that sexy look. The way the morning light is shining perfectly around his profile like a ring light giving him the perfect lighting. His natural amber highlights mixed with the silvery gray tone make for an alluring golden hue that captivates me. But his glimmering cerulean blue eyes sparkling in the light like a perfectly formed crystal ensnares me.

            I’m a pool of putty in his arms and he doesn’t even know it. Who was I kidding he gets all the points like he always does. I can’t even be mad he deserves every win, he earns them fair and square.

            “What if I bring you home a whole box of choux, eclairs, and chouquettes from a great bakery close to the office.” Once again his strength comes in handy…for him. I guess me too since he props me up allowing him full access to my stomach, my thighs, my needy core.

            He winks at me before grabbing my ass in a tight grip and kissing his way down my stomach. I shiver and arch forward giving him all the permission he needs to keep this going. My mind is lost on thoughts of authentic English pastries and s*x. Damn him.

            “Yes, yes bring all that home.” He’s massaging my ass and down my legs, his fingers getting dangerously close to filling me. Moaning I grab his hair intending to pull him away but instead I twisting and shoving his mouth closer and closer to where I need it.

            “Buttt….” I try through the moans and the aches to get the words out, to not lose my mind completely. “You…still ne…eed, OOO” I’m breathing heavily as he licks along the bend in my thigh, angling his way to my entrance. He’s driving me crazy with need and desire. I want nothing more than to ride his face or sink down on his thick c**k.

            “Mhhmm Mase…” Mason settles further back in the bed before locking his arms around my thighs and forcing me to sit on his face. I steady myself by grabbing onto the headboard as I move the way he wants me to. He moans into the side of my thigh sending warm vibrations up my spine. He bites into the same spot before kissing his way to exactly where I need him.

            “Masoooonn,” I draw out his name in ecstasy and determination. “Not.” I breathe out. “Good,” I sigh. “Enough.” I groan as I bounce on his face. Helping him get me right where we both want me.

            Until he stops. “It’s not good enough?” He taunts.

            “What?” I whine, lost in my frustration.

            “You said it’s not good enough.” Banging my head on the headboard I try to shake myself back to reality.

            “The pastries. I want them.” Taking a deep breath I grind out the rest. “But you still need to do something for you in London.” I lean back enough to see his crinkled eyes.

            “Fine. I’ll do something for me in London.” He gives in quickly and to my own satisfaction, he goes right back to what he was doing.

            “And send proof.” I remind him. He grunts his agreement before bringing me to an epic release with his mouth. Followed by an orgasm so intense my whole body shakes like an earthquake.

                                                                                 ***

            “I have to meet my mother in an hour we can’t put this conversation off any longer.” We’re dressed and ready for the day after a shared shower. The morning has been amazing in spite of what we both knew was to come.

            We’re in the kitchen now, I’m making veggie omelets before whipping up some muffins for the soup kitchen. I also have to finish making the toffee and tiramisu that I started last night before he got home and baking time turned into sexy time.

            I put on a pair of high wasted jeans with a plain loose black sweatshirt that falls off my shoulder, layered on top is one of the many aprons that have been showing up day after day on the hooks in the pantry. This one is gray with a teal flower pattern it's pretty and the straps are thin tying behind my neck and my waist.

            Swiping his finger down my shoulder from behind he knocks my sweater all the way down my shoulder so he can place a sweet kiss right where he wants it. His peace offering before we willingly wage war. Or at least in a battle.

            Turning around I catch his lips with mine in the last light kiss I might have for a while. I’ve been good at blocking out all the thoughts and emotions I could the past twelve hours but now it’s time to open Pandora’s box and dive right on in.

            Yesterday was eventful and by now Wyatt should have security equipment set up around the entrance to the garage's side business. Wyatt might not have been happy with the way I went about my sleuthing but he was hopeful that we found a huge break we needed. And as soon as Mason is out of town we plan to use what information we can to our full advantage.

            “Okay.” I agree timidly.

            I keep working on our omelets while Mason moves to my side, leaning against the counter as he prepares his strategy. “I’ve never been in love. Nor did I plan it but I f*****g fell hard for you Crash.” While he starts off I hold his eyes but I quickly divert mine back down to the food not able to look on with all the emotion in his voice and the vulnerability that he’s extending to me with the unspoken understanding that ill be vulnerable back.

            “I want you. I want us. And we're really good at f*****g but you are not happy. I won’t ever understand everything you’ve gone through or what you live with every day. I won’t pretend to either. I wanted you from the second I saw you. I loved you from the moment we made eye contact even with the pain I saw there.

            “Through the tough exterior and your continued effort in distance and resistance, we still found each other. We fit and we fell hard and fast. You started opening up and blooming and I thought maybe I could walk alongside you while you find yourself and your happiness. I wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to be a reason for your happiness.”

            “You are Mason. You make me so happy.” I can’t help the break in my voice any more than I can control the sudden urge to throw up at the look and smell of the food. Vulnerability and emotion are not my strong suit and I’m feeling very uneasy. He’s a professional at controlling his emotion but right now his words match the tone of his voice and the sincerity of the moment.

            This feels like a death sentence or like it's finally time for the other shoe to drop. It’s the perfect opportunity for Brian’s degrading voice to fill the space between my ears. You think your worth this trouble? Good enough to deal with a f****d up girl and her average looks? You’re f*****g stupid too, thinking you ever had a real chance with someone like him. His dead laugh echoes in the empty space chilling me further.

            While Mason continues I plate the omelet and slide it over to him. I shut off the stove not wanting to waste any food I know I won’t eat. And I know I won't eat, not feeling like this. He doesn’t pick up the plate or pull it closer. Instead, he watches me as I shift to the counter behind me. Putting a little distance between us.

            “I make you more than happy when we're naked. But any other time I try to talk to you about the nightmares or your reluctance to open Shirley’s. The way you avoid outside or really anything that brings you outside these walls. Sure you’ve gotten better this past week or so but still, you barely spend time at the soup kitchen or outside that head of yours.

            “Your bags are just as dark as mine and you're better at hiding it all than I am. You need to talk to someone or figure out the best way to cope with everything that’s happened. I love our s*x, the best s*x I’ve ever had. But I love having you as my best friend more and right now I think I’m holding you back more than I’m helping you.

            “I’m taking anything I can get from you and in doing so allowing you to use me to get away from your problems. Avoid them. Before we were working through them, together. Now you won't even tell me what your dreams are about.” He sighs as my gut churns and he drags his hand down his face.

            “Dr. Tussing is a great psychiatrist with immense knowledge, compassion, and discretion. He could have helped you. Instead, you killed time. And if that’s what you want that’s fine. I won’t force you to do anything ever. Your life is yours. Your choices are yours. But I won’t be here enabling you.

            “And you can’t expect me to. I can’t sit here watching you suffer. I won’t. I want you happy and free and if that means I need to walk away from this. From us. That’s what I’ll do.” His hands fall to his sides in defeat as he looks to me.

            My mind is running wild. I don’t know what to say or what emotion to grab onto. I knew where this was leading. I knew how I was behaving and how Mason was taking it. And I was well aware of what I was doing in the doctor's office two days ago. I knew the cost I was willing to pay but still I feel like I was just punched in the face.

            When I look down my hands are dripping in blood onto a concrete floor with odd, frightening tools lined on the shelves around the room. Brian’s angry twisted face looks up at me. His eyes opened but unblinking. It’s his blood that slides off my fingers and his life I’ll be forever responsible for taking. And a sick part of me is okay with it.

            A part of me would do it over and over again. Apart from my wishes, I could have killed him slower. Made his death long and tortuous as he did to so many women. Like he deserved. But that’s me judging and being the executioner. That’s me taking someone's life from them and every family he ever ruined I took away some of their closer and opportunities to see a different form of justice.

            But no matter what I did kill him. I am a murder and a small part of me but still, a part of me has no regrets. Yet I still can’t look myself in my eyes without seeing a demon. I can’t imagine living my life in the way I dreamed of before. I don’t know how to keep living life like everyone around me seems to want me to live it. Like nothing is different. Like I’m not a murder that they’re just allowing to walk around with everyone else.

            My soul is stained and the only way I feel any sense of redemption is when I’m out there trying to take down more criminals. See to it that no more women or innocent people get hurt. And I protect Mason and his legacy along the way. But I can’t tell Mason that. He’ll never approve of the way I’m coping but if I can just get to the other side of his trip I might have some information I can give him.

            And when everything is said and done maybe I’ll be able to look myself in the mirror again. Maybe I’ll be able to talk to him about some of these feelings. Maybe then I won’t have to talk about it at all because I’ll feel better, more worthy.

            “I went to the doctor for you.” I shift from foot to foot as I try to shake off some of these feelings.

            “And I brought you there for a reason Crash.”

            “I talked, didn’t I? You expect me to open up to a stranger on day one? I don’t understand Mason. What are you saying?” I lash out in anger and in my moment of vulnerability. I’m not good at any of this and it’s easy to direct it all at him.

            “You bullshited your way through and you know it.” He looks at me expectantly.

            “Sorry I don’t want to talk about it, Mason. I didn’t know I was on a timeline.”

            “You aren’t on any timeline but your own. But I won’t be your convent distraction.”

            “Just say it, Mason.”

            “Maybe we need to take a break. I can find you your own place where you can focus on finding yourself.” His words are like a knife to the chest, piercing and deadly.

            “If that’s what you want.” I don’t want to leave him or lose him. But I won’t burden him either. And walking away will give me plenty more opportunity to investigate. But at what cost? Is it worth it?

            “I want you to be healthy and happy.” He grabs my hands in his bring them to his lips before placing a small kiss on my knuckles and then rubbing the skin there.

            I try to pull away but he holds tight. I look down but I know he doesn’t miss the tears gathering in my eyes.

            “Being with you makes me happy,” I whisper. He steps closer with a tug pulling me into a semi embrace. Right here this is where I’m at peace, where I’m home. “I just need some more time.”

            “Tell me what you need. I’ll do whatever you need.” He whispers back.

            “How is that fair to you? You have enough on your plate already I don’t need to add anything else to it.” I’ll never admit it to anyone but I’m straight up crying now. I’m lost in a sea of indecision.

            “Sweetheart, we can get through anything together.” He cradles the side of my face in his palm and swipes his thumb under my eye drying some of my tears.  

            “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll only give you more problems.” I have to hiccup through the words and my emotions.

            “I can handle anything. I just need you to tell me what you need.”

            “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need to spend some time apart.” As Mason's face falls as he listens to my words the whole house starts chirping with notifications.

            Turns out Cynthia canceled their brunch reservations so she could bring an entire team of designers and stylists here so we can start planning our wedding. And if that isn’t just the perfect timing to really get my mind spinning, I don’t know what is.