When I'm Gone(54)

His big, strong hands wrapped around my waist and held me there as we tasted and fed off each other. Having him here with me was the best birthday gift ever. Even without a cake and balloons. He was perfect.

“Come on, you have to blow out the candles, and then I get to feed you cake,” he murmured against my lips.

“That’s a lot of cake for just us,” I said, not even trying to pretend I didn’t love that he got me a ginormous cake.

He chuckled. “We’ll eat our fill, and you can take some home, and then we can send the leftovers to friends.”

I liked that idea. “I may eat too much,” I said, looking at the creamy icing and already licking my lips. I would have to walk for days nonstop to burn off these calories.

Mase winked at me. “Good. I like the idea of that hot ass jiggling a little more.”

I really needed to fan myself.

He stuck a candle into the top tier and shrugged. “I was going to get twenty-three candles, but Harlow pointed out that the breeze out here was too much. I’d never get them to stay lit. So I went with the one.”

He struck a match and hovered over the candle to protect it as he lit it.

“Make a wish, baby.”

I couldn’t think of anything I didn’t have right now . . . except for one thing. But I knew wishes didn’t take away the past. They couldn’t change what had been done. So instead, I said a small thank you for what I’d been given and blew out the candle.

Mase began slicing a very large piece of cake and took a fork and looked up at me. “Come sit with me.” He nodded to the white chaise longue that sat in the corner overlooking the gulf.

He sat down and opened his arms for me to sink into. I was half on top of him when his arms wrapped around me.

“That piece is too big,” I said, eyeing the red filling.

“We’re sharing,” he informed me. “Open up.”

I did as he said, and Mase slid the bite into my mouth. The sweet cream of the icing and the raspberry filling were delicious. “Mmm,” I said approvingly.

“I like watching you eat. And feeding you,” Mase said, as he scooped up another piece of the cake. He started moving it to my mouth, but I shook my head.

“Your piece,” I informed him.

“Watching your tongue dart out to lick your lips and listening to you moan is so much better than me eating this cake,” he said, and he rubbed some of the icing on my mouth.

I opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he slipped in another bite.

“Yeah, there comes that tongue,” he said, sounding completely fascinated with watching me eat my cake.

I finished chewing and swallowed, then shook my head again. “I need a break in between bites,” I told him, laughing while he held another piece up to my face.

“I like your boots,” he said, instead of arguing with me. “I want to see you in nothing but those boots.”

My purchase had been well worth the cost.

“Please eat more for me. It’s so fucking sexy,” he begged, running his nose up my neck.

Giggling, I turned and looked at him. “How is me eating sexy?”

Mase smirked, ran a hand down my back, and squeezed my ass. “For several reasons.”

“You take a bite,” I said, picking up the fork and holding it to his mouth.

He ate obediently, and I kissed the icing off his lips.

“I can see the advantage of me eating it, too, now,” he said when I pulled back.