Entwined Secrets (3 page)

“Jess,” Mason says in a steady voice, “I want you to walk back to the path. Don’t run. Walk. Can you do that?”

“Mm-hmm,” I utter without opening my mouth.

“Okay. Then go now. I’ll follow behind you in a second.”

I do as Mason says and turn to go. When I do, I come face to face with another coyote, much closer than the rest. And bigger too. Daddy coyote. Probably the pack leader. I had no idea he was there until just now.

I back up slowly until I bump into Mason.

I don’t trust myself to speak and simply tap on his brawny shoulder, refusing to take my eyes off the new canine. Mason looks over and sees the problem. We’ve been flanked. That’s when he does something extremely unexpected.

Mason switches places with me and hunches forward. He throws his arms out and growls. A deeply guttural growl. Very authentic. So much so that it startles me.

The daddy coyote isn’t so frightened. He refuses to back down.

“Okay, Jess, change of plan. When I give the word, run.”

“What?”

“When I tell you, I want you to run. Head back to the path and follow it to the river. Got that?”

The seven coyotes behind us begin to stalk closer. Mason growls at them as well, whipping his head back and forth between the group and daddy coyote. He takes a few steps backward, away from both sides simultaneously, keeping me behind him the whole time.

“Ready?” he asks in a voice that rumbles with menace.

“What about you?” I ask.

“I’ll be fine. Just run when I tell you, okay?”

He places his hands on me, as if about to push me away. The coyote pack starts to look more feral. Tense and ready to strike. A line of saliva drips from the mouth of daddy coyote.

“Now, Jess!
Run now!
”

Mason shoves me away and shocks me into a sprint. My feet carry me past trees and over underbrush. I hear what sounds like a coyote at my heels, but I don’t dare turn around. Mason said to run, and that’s all I’m doing.

My heart is pumping like crazy as my feet pound against the forest floor. I’m expecting the coyote to sink his teeth into my ankle or foot, but then I hear a pained yelp instead. Did I kick him by accident? I glance back to see what happened. I can’t help myself.

Mason is right behind me, holding the daddy coyote above his head with both hands. He throws the mongrel at the seven smaller coyotes, bowling them over like pins.

Mason looks back at me, just before he is overcome.

“Run, Jess! Don’t look back!”

I don’t know where it comes from, but my legs are possessed with a burst of speed. The adrenaline I’ve been waiting for kicks in and blots out my fear. I can hear scuffling behind me, but it fades quickly as I make haste for the river.

I feel horrible leaving Mason to fend for himself, to protect this retreat, but my feet aren’t changing their mind.

I don’t know how long it takes me to reach the embankment overlooking the river, but I arrive in what feels like moments.

I can keep going, cross the water, and really safeguard myself against the coyotes. They probably wouldn’t follow me across a rushing river. Still, I can’t bring myself to go. I’m still breathing heavily, but I can’t abandon Mason. Not after what he just did. I need to go back and see if he’s okay. That’s one of the things I can do, after all.

My mentors insisted I learn how to heal the mundane way before they taught me the magical way. I can heal myself with a spell, but that’s all. For anybody else, I need first aid. Still, if I can help Mason, I must.

That’s when a figure springs out of the forest and grabs me by both arms.

It’s Mason. No sign of wild animals behind him. How did he deal with the coyotes and get here so quickly?

“Are you okay?” he asks me. “Did they bite you anywhere?”

“No. I’m fine. I think you grabbed that one coyote before he had a chance.”

Mason’s shirt has been torn in several places. His pants too.

“What about you?” I ask frantically. “You’re all clawed up.”

I look more closely. Despite his damaged attire, Mason doesn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere. Not even a scratch.

“I’m all right. They got my clothes, but that’s all. I was lucky. I think the pack gave up once they realized I wasn’t worth the effort.”

“You act like coyotes can be reasoned with. They had you surrounded. I saw them.”

“Only for a moment. Coyotes give up if you make a fuss. A deer is more appealing to them than me, after all. They were only protecting their prey.”

Mason is so composed about it all. He’s not even breathing heavily. I’m still overwhelmed. It all happened so fast. I must be looking up at Mason in state of awe, because he notices.

“What?” he asks. “Is there something on my face?”

I press my lips against his before he knows what hit him. It feels like the most natural thing in the world for him to do. It takes him a moment to adjust, but his strong hands fall onto my back.

Mason returns the kiss, creating his own momentum. I grab his broad shoulders and pull him toward me, reclining us against the grass. I lie beneath him as he hovers over me.

“Jess, I’m not who you think I am. You don’t know anything about me. Not really.”

“We all have our dark secrets,” I tell him. “I’ll take my chances.”

“You say that without knowing what mine are.”

“Tell you what. If you don’t judge my secrets, I won’t judge yours. Deal?”

Mason smiles.

“Where were you for the past sixteen years of my life?”

“Painting. The very thing you grew up to hate.”

He chuckles. I was guessing, but I’m obviously right. How could any child grow with two obsessed parents like his and
not
hate painting?

“I don’t think I hate it anymore,” Mason says, and then leans in to kiss me again.

Mason slips both hands behind my head. His lips are insistent and moist. Pushing against and pulling me toward him at the same time.

Mason isn’t in a rush, which is a welcome change from the unbridled exuberance of younger men. He’s a practiced hand. The rhythm of his desire is a steady and unrelenting pulse. His body presses against the length of mine. Pinning me without crushing me.

I wrap my legs around his back and slip my shoes off. They fall soundlessly onto the grass. My feet want to be naked. They aren’t the only part.

I widen my legs apart and bend them at the knees, resting my feet on his lower back. The rigidness between his legs is very apparent now. Mason reaches up under my jaw and turns my head sideways. I don’t resist.

He kisses my neck. Then again. He keeps going, repeating the gesture in a line. I close my eyes. Bite my lower lip. The dampness from his mouth tingles. It instantly dries on my skin in this summer heat. The warmth of his contact sends a shiver from my neck down into my toes, exciting all the parts in between. I don’t want him to stop. Fortunately, Mason doesn’t want to either.

There will be grass stains on my dress after tonight. I don’t care. Mason shifts his weight. His hand passes between my breasts. A stray finger grazes one of my nipples through the fabric. I inhale sharply at the accident. If it was an accident.

I lift a hand to my face, covering one eye. The other one must be spinning like a pinwheel. Mason notices that too, like he seems to notice everything. I shoot a smile at him, a look of encouragement. He understands.

His hand rests on my belly, fingertips across my stomach. He claws at the fabric. Mason wants to remove the barrier between us. I don’t want it to be there any more than he does. Who am I to deny that impulse? This is exactly what I hoped would happen. I just wasn’t expecting to be saved from a pack of wild coyotes.

I grab the fabric of my dress in both hands, gather the material in my fists, and slowly draw it up.

My panties are revealed first, then my belly button, until finally my entire stomach is exposed. The invisible little blonde hairs that we all have are illuminated by the sun. Mason sighs. Actually sighs. Taking me in. Then his lips are on me again. My belly first.

His mouth widens to taste the salt on my skin. His teeth close, just over the surface. Mason nips at my skin, not really biting. I lose my breath. My stomach quivers.

He adjusts himself. Navigates down my body. His hands drift to the waistline of my panties, and he inhales. Smelling the wetness between my legs. Then he migrates even further down, passing his face over my mound, moving to my inner thigh, leading with his nose.

A spare hand lifts my leg. Places it over his shoulder. I prop myself up onto both elbows. I want an unobstructed view. My mouth hangs open, stupid with anticipation. I can’t even hide how much I want him.

Mason drops his face between my legs. Draws the bridge of his nose against my nethers. Pushing the damp cotton of my panties ever upward. I gasp at the intimacy of his touch. My other leg drops open, widening the chasm.

I push my pelvis against him. I want him to keep going. I don’t hide it. He hooks the crotch of my panties and pulls it aside. Laying me bare for the tasting. No pretense now.

His tongue, strong and gentle, explores the wings of my lips. Circling the engorged nub he finds nestled there. I lean back again as he worries my folds. My breath turns ragged as Mason holds my hips, one arm curled around each leg, leisurely servicing my pleasure.

I writhe in the grass. Overcome. The little shocks caused by his deft ministrations are in control now. Each one strikes a spark in my core and fires outward in every direction all at once. I am a puppet to his oral mastery.

I’m panting for air now. My body is growing hotter with each moment. My dress is a nuisance, but there’s no time for that now. I shove my panties further down instead. Mason leans back and slides them past my knees, smiling in a way that nearly makes me climax. I’m so close to coming.

He kisses my inner thigh and then his mouth finds me once more. I reach down and comb my fingers through his hair. Then my fingers become urgent, gripping his head. He takes the hint. A hint I hadn’t even intended to give. Mason increases the speed of his tongue. No going back now. I’m too close.

My eyes bolt open and the world snaps into focus. I’m looking up into the trees above us. The brown and orange leaves of late summer. The dappled sunspots that grow on the surface. The tiny veins that run through them like a miniature nervous system.

I can see it all with crystal clarity as I come in one long, aching release. The volume of my moan carries high into the trees. I pulse out of myself, drenching his chin.

Mason doesn’t let up. The man has focus, I’ll give him that. He remains attentive to the last tremble of my body. Only then does he wipe his mouth and look up to see how I am doing.

I prop myself up again and look down my body at him.

“You’re very good at that, Mr. Boone,” I say. “Not your first time, then?”

He smiles. “My first time with you.”

I sweep back the hair that fell in his face so I can see him better.

“I might have seen stars if you kept going.”

“Then I should have kept going,” Mason quips. “That would have made me happy.”

“What else makes you happy, I wonder? You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“Have I? That’s not good.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’d rather satisfy your curiosity than pique it.”

He kneels in front of me, looking down at my nakedness. Taking in the landscape of my body. Then he loosens his bolo necklace. Places it reverentially on the ground beside him with the silver pendant.

Mason pulls his shirt off over his head next and tosses it aside, revealing a broad, top-heavy chest that narrows into a slender waist. His stomach is made for washing clothes, but the biggest surprise is the tattoo on his chest. A circular design… a moon, with a wolf depicted inside. The same Norse design I noticed on his pendant. An exact reproduction, if I’m not mistaken. Apparently he doesn’t go anywhere without this talisman.

Mason reaches for his belt. I stop him, sit up, and dutifully make the task of undressing him my own. Also, I want to prolong this moment. I take my time undoing the loop. I gaze up at him towering over me and let my hands do the work, holding his gaze.

Curls of brunette hair fall into my face. His lips part as he looks down at me. He knows what’s coming. The belt falls open and I lower his zipper. Then, leaning in close, I reach into his jeans, grinning.

He leaps out of his boxers and into my hand. Eager to escape. I stroke the length of him before stealing a peek. Long, like the rest of him.

The head flexes for me, mushrooming in excitement. His balls remain tight against his body. Gods, they’re like an eighteen-year-old’s. No swinging scrotum for Mason. I caress them. He hardens even more in my firm grip. Now it’s my turn.

I bend down and suck on his throbbing, blood-filled rod. I circle his stem with my tongue. Dart my lips over the peak. Mason inhales sharply, which I love. The inability to control his breathing. This should be memorable for him as well.

I massage him further down my throat. My panties are still around my ankles. My ass exposed to the river. I pull up the bottom of my dress so he can see more of me.

Even kneeling, Mason is tall. He leans forward and reaches between the cheeks of my ass. He doesn’t even have to stretch. His fingers slide up and down with pressure. I am hot and moist as he throbs in my hand and mouth. Mason feasted on me like a lusty gladiator. I’ll swallow him like a wanton Amazon.

I take him even further into my mouth. He shudders with pleasure, but gently urges me off his length. My lips smack as I withdraw. He doesn’t want to be spent that way. I obey.

Mason guides me to stand up in front of him. He looks up at me and pulls my panties to the ground, where I can step out of them.

That’s when Mason takes me by the waist, brings me in close, and lowers me down on his pinnacle. I straddle his legs, eager to receive him as he bores up inside me. The fit is snug, but feels that much more incredible because of it. Dammit if he’s not perfectly sized for me.

His hands begin to crank my hips. Lifting and dropping my negligible weight. Mason drives into me, colliding with the back of my sheath, but only for an instant. Enough to make me want more. Mason knows what he’s doing. I am in good… no… strike that. I am in excellent hands.