You Are My Reason - Willow Winters Page 0,40

as I pull my lips away from her. She’s perfectly sated, just as she should be.

“You’re mine, Jules,” I murmur but make sure it’s loud enough for her to hear and watch for her reaction. Her long lashes flutter as she opens her eyes and looks back at me. I pull her panties back into place and fix her dress.

“Mason,” she says, whispering my name as her forehead creases and her eyes beg me to take it back.

“No, you want me and I want you. You’re mine.”

She bites down on her bottom lip and says, “I’m not okay.” Her voice hitches and her words crack. She closes her eyes and speaks as if it truly pains her to say the words. “I don’t know if I can be good for you.”

I rest my forehead against hers and ask her, “Why are you so afraid?”

“I don’t think this can just be sex for me,” she says. I cup her jaw in my hand and brush my thumb across her cheek. “I think I’m going to want more. I think I already—” she stops as her voice cracks again.

My body feels unbearably tense, each breath hurting my chest. Why am I doing this to her? Why can’t I just let her go? Because I’m a selfish prick and I can’t help myself. “I can give you more,” I whisper in the air between us, knowing it’s what she wants to hear. “We can see how it works between us in private, and keep things quiet in public?”

I’m giving her exactly what she wants, just to keep her.

I’m an asshole for doing it, knowing I can never be what she really needs and wants.

Her eyes light up and that soft smile reappears on her face. She brightens with hope and my shy girl comes back to me. “Are you sure?” she says, still panting, barely recovered from what I’ve already done to her. “You aren’t going to break my heart?”

She has no idea that she should be running from me. I’m well aware that I should turn her away regardless. Instead I smile down at her and kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m sure,” I tell her and hate myself that much more.

Julia

There’s no rhyme or reason for when the memories come back. There’s nothing I can pinpoint that triggers it. Nothing that I can blame.

Lying in Mason’s arms, naked and warm, the two of us each working on our laptops in comfortable silence, there’s not a damn reason that I should be thinking of Jace, but I am.

I don’t want to. Even as I scoot my back close to the sofa, I try to rid myself of the images of him smiling at me. When I’d wake up in the morning, Jace would push the hair from my face and give me a quick kiss. Always on the lips, no matter how much I tried to dodge them. He thought it was cute how I didn’t want him to smell my morning breath.

Moments like that, moments we shared together that were easy and fun, where we fit beautifully together, those hurt the most when I remember. I let out an uneasy sigh and try to relax, ignoring Mason’s eyes on me.

You’d think I’d be happy that I had that at one point in time. That I had a man who loved me and whom I loved too. It’s easy to say: I’ll be glad because it happened and not sad because it’s over. But the truth is I can’t say that, because I don’t mean it.

“What’s wrong?” Mason’s deep voice cutting through the silent evening makes me feel even worse. I’m trying to move on, but it’s not that easy.

I swallow the lump in my throat and pull the dark gray throw over my legs and up to my shoulders. “Just having a moment,” I answer honestly, although I can’t look him in the eye. I hope he’ll just let it go.

His warm breath surrounds me as he pulls me closer to him and kisses my hair. I don’t expect the gentle touch from him. He whispers, “I get it.”

He splays his hand on my hip and runs his thumb back and forth over my bare skin. I wait for more, but he doesn’t say anything else. Only that he gets it and my treacherous heart thumps in recognition.

My laptop jostles across my legs as I try to get closer to him, loving the warmth, needing more of it. I wonder