the wall. “Our life would have been more fucking magical than anything Hearst will give you. But you’ll never fucking know because you didn’t hang around long enough to find out.”
She continues trying to fight me off, but I’m holding her so tightly that she hasn’t got a chance in hell of making that happen. “You know what? My marriage was arranged and you know that, but you still give me shit over it, and there you are all over Jess McDonnell. Don’t fucking come at me with your bullshit, Mason. I’m not taking it anymore. Not now that you’ve moved on.”
I let her go and move my hands to press against the wall either side of her, forcing my body against hers to hold her in place. “I don’t know anything about your marriage, Chelsea, and I don’t fucking want to know. And as far as me and Jess go, yeah, I’m fucking moving on. I’m finding pussy that won’t fuck me over.”
She jerks against me, as wild as I am, her eyes stormy, her expression fierce. “Fucking let me go!”
I don’t know what the fuck possesses me—except I do, this fucking woman in front of me blazing with everything I both love and hate—I crash my lips down onto hers. Fuck, I practically inhale her while forcing my tongue against hers and taking what I want. She tastes like home, and I fucking hate that, but I can’t not kiss her. Hell, I want to tear her clothes off and fuck her, but somehow I manage to restrain myself.
She groans as I deepen the kiss.
I growl in response, my hands moving to her body.
Fucking hell, I’ve missed her. Missed this mouth and this body. But more than anything, I’ve missed being with her.
Her leg slides up and hooks around mine as she presses herself against me.
I reach down and grasp her ass under her dress, still kissing her.
We’re all hands and mouths and lust, and before I know what’s happening, she’s in my arms with both legs wrapped around me, and my dick grinding against her cunt.
“Fuck!” I pull my lips from hers. “We’re not fucking doing this again.” I let her go before I change my mind. Before I fuck this up more than it’s already fucked up.
She glares at me, straightening her dress and trying to get herself together. “Don’t ever touch me again!”
With one last glare, she pushes past me and stalks out of the bedroom.
Jesus fucking Christ.
What the hell was I thinking?
I wasn’t, and that’s the problem.
I never fucking think with Chelsea. I feel.
And that shit needs to stop.
6
Chelsea
Staring at myself in the mirror at my dressing table, I touch my lips and think about kissing Mason last night. He was savage. Possessed. And I loved every second of it even though I wanted to hate it.
I’ve never seen him like that before. Well, except for that time after he slept with my friend Samantha and threw it in my face. He slept with her after he saw the news of my engagement to Joe on the news. That was my father’s doing, not mine. If I’d had my way, I would have broken that news to Mason myself, but my father engineered a lot of things back then in such a way as to inflict maximum pain on Mason. To this day, Mason thinks I chose for everything to go down the way it all did, but none of that is true. My father is to blame for everything I’ve taken the blame for. In the end, I decided to let Mason think what he thinks; it’ll be easier to keep us apart if he hates me. But good God, I never imagined his hate would hurt like it does.
I take a deep breath and reach for my earrings while carefully tracking my husband’s movements in our bedroom. We’re getting ready for Sunday lunch with our families. Joe has been especially testy this morning, making all kinds of demands I want to say no to. I’ve no clue what’s caused him this mood, but for once, I’m grateful our parents are coming over. It’ll give me a reprieve from him.
I’ve just finished securing my earrings in place when he moves behind me. Placing his hands on my bare shoulders, he meets my gaze in the mirror. “Your father is going to ask you today to take a couple of weeks off work at the beginning of his campaign in a couple of months