The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,28
herded out of the building.
Mason woke up with cotton mouth and a headache, but the pain was receding as his dick was enveloped by warm heat and pressure.
Laila. He’d fantasized exactly this plenty of times without admitting he was thinking about her. But this daydream was the most vivid yet.
Hands moved over him, pumping his cock once or twice before her lips closed over him again, taking him deeper. Mason pushed his head back against the pillow, determined to enjoy the sensation, but the more it went on, the less enthused he became. It felt a little too real. That and his fantasy girl was using a bit too much teeth.
Shit. This wasn’t Laila. It was also not a dream.
Mason’s eyes flew open. He sat up, pushing at the woman in his bed at the same time. The wet pressure retreated, and a hazy red blob pulled away.
“What the fuck?” he exploded, blinking to clear his vision. The blurry fire-haired woman coalesced into a recognizable face.
“Angie? What the fuck are you doing here?”
Angie’s head drew back, and her lips pursed. “Good morning to you, too.”
Mason’s jaw clenched. “I repeat… what the fuck are you doing in my room? In my bed?”
Angie’s perfectly painted red lips puckered. He was relieved to see that, unlike him, she was dressed. Thank heaven for small miracles.
His uninvited guest raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember last night? You bought me quite a few drinks.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Mason scoffed. “I had three beers, so there’s no way I’d forget I didn’t invite you in here. Also, I bought everyone a few drinks.”
He gestured to the living room beyond his closed bedroom door. “Some of the guys came here to crash because they were too drunk to go home. You were not among them.”
Angie sat up, pressing her arms together in front of her. The gesture plumped up her cleavage. “I came back to congratulate you on your promotion. What’s the big deal?”
Mason’s face contorted. “The deal is I went to bed alone. I expected to wake up that way.”
Angie huffed, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Well, this is a first. I usually get a much warmer reception.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said, reaching over to grab the pair of pants he’d tossed on the floor before crashing. He shoved his junk back into his boxer briefs and stood, keeping one eye on Angie as he yanked his jeans on. “But you won’t find it here. Sorry.”
Face tight, Angie turned away. “I got it,” she snapped, getting up to snatch her purse from the floor.
Mason’s stomach churned. From what he’d heard, Angie’s claws could draw blood, but there was no hiding the hurt that flashed across her expression. He had just insulted her pretty badly.
“Look, it’s nothing personal,” he said, picking up his shirt. Sniffing it, he made a face and tossed it in the hamper. “But I’m not free to carry on with someone else like this. I’m taken.”
The words just came out. He didn’t even have to think about them.
Angie shot him a glare. “You don’t have to make shit up to spare my feelings. I’m a big girl.”
Mason suppressed a wince. How was it that he was the one feeling like the asshole? “No, really. It’s new. Just starting up, but also a long time in coming.”
Mason knew that now. In the back of his mind, he had been silently struggling against the idea. But he wanted Laila, and now that they’d been together, he was done fighting it.
“Whatever,” Angie mumbled with a scowl, throwing his bedroom door open.
Mason followed her. If Dusty, Angie’s brother, had crashed last night like he’d been planning, there might be trouble. The man claimed he didn’t care what his sister did, but Mason preferred to test that theory now rather than find out later, like when his team depended on Dusty’s for support ass-deep in the desert.
However, when he got downstairs, it was empty. Those guys who’d stayed last night had either changed their minds or cleared out earlier. He hoped it was the former. If Angie’s humiliation was private, then there was a chance this might blow over.
Please let this go away. He didn’t need this kind of shit in his life.
The door closed on Angie’s back, and Mason sighed with relief. He started going around the living room, picking up stray beer bottles and Solo cups when someone started banging on the door.
Wincing, Mason stalked to the door and threw it open. “What?”