Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 3

  I’m fucking nervous, and it isn’t because my best friend is getting married. I look to Deacon, and he’s tugging his sleeves and rocking from one foot to another. “You ready for a ball and chain?” I snicker at him.

  “I’m ready to be married,” he snaps.

  “You know you’ll never get a man card again.” I took that shit long ago. He’s so whipped he has no shot at getting it back.

  “That’s fine because every time she screams my name, and we both know that’s a lot, that’s validation I’m a man.” His smirk is boastful, and I scoff.

  I don’t get a chance to respond because my princess is demanding my attention. “Pop. Pop. Pop.” Deacon bristles as I bend down to hold her and give her that sugary goodness she is jones-ing for. Serves him right for making me fucking lose the mud run.

  “Saylor feeling better?” Caden inquires.

  My poor Shortstop has been sick as a dog for a few days. I told Deacon it was the realization she was gonna be tied to his ass— that’s enough to make anyone sick. He isn’t as amused by my explanation as I am. “Yeah, so she says. I can’t wait to get her by herself, to the beach, and let her relax.” Fucking whipped.

  “Sure. That’s why you want her on the beach. In the private villa,” I joke.

  “Mason, you’re an idiot. He has sex with her whenever he wants. More than I can say for you.” Caden ribs me.

  “Oh, Mace, you in a dry spell?” Deacon busts my balls when he gets the chance . . . which isn’t often. The preacher clears his throat, and we halt conversations. I don’t know why they chose a church because we’re inappropriate no matter where we are.

  Julie wiggles from my arms and hands me the empty stick as she crunches the last of the lollipop. She dashes down the aisle to get her flowers as the music starts, and I couldn’t be prouder. That girl is a genius— takes after her Uncle Mason.

  Emberlee appears first, and Brody is as whipped as Deacon. His man card is being taken next. I’m surprised they worked their shit out, but I’m happy for her if it’s what she wants. Avery follows her, and I watch Deacon sway when he sets his sights on Saylor.

  He whispers some mushy shit to her, and the wedding passes in a blur. Until the obey part. I can’t help my snickering and get death glares from the bride.

  Deacon takes her hand and recites some hokey shit he wrote. “Saylor, I can’t remember not loving you. Even when I didn’t know you, I loved you. What you would bring to my life, what you would mean to Julie and me. I didn’t know your name, I didn’t know your face . . . but I knew you. Then one day I saw you. I saw all of you. Your heart. Your pain. Your fears. Your beautiful soul.”

  “Revoked for a lifetime,” I whisper. Saylor giggles. Caden smacks the back of my head as Deacon rolls his eyes. That’s a bad trait that seems to be shared throughout our group. I tune the rest out, searching for Brecklynn. I barely caught a glimpse of her when she came in with Emberlee and Brody, and I needed to see her like Julie needs lollipops. The addiction is strong.

  I hear Saylor start in with baseball language. At least it isn’t soccer terms this time. “I once thought the game of life was to be tiptoed across. You crushed that belief. You taught me to pick up a bat, swing for the fences, kick up some dirt, and run. Run to you, never from you. You’re my bases loaded, home run, grand slam. You are my end game.”

  “Enough with the baseball metaphors. Overdoing it there, Shortstop,” I contradict myself, but she calls me on my shit.

  “This advice from the guy wearing a cup to my wedding so he’s not embarrassed of what he has to offer.” She goes straight for my dick. Girl is obsessed.

  “Unc Mas. Pop. Pop. Pop.” I love that sound. I pull a blue one from my pocket and open my arms for her. I should start putting money aside for dental work at this rate. It isn’t fair they take that debt on their shoulders.

  “This is our life baby, you ready to live it?” Deacon asks.

  “You bet.” Saylor beams at him.

  “You suck at bets,” I remind her. She cheats.

  “Okay, you Matilda.” At least she isn’t spelling words.

  Our crew laughs, and we all make our way to the pictures and reception. As I take the dance floor with Lee Lee, I need to make sure she’s good. So much has happened with her. “You happy?” I know how she hides her pain, and I’ve dealt with the brunt of it for years.

  “Yeah. I am.” Her arms wrap around me and squeeze. “We still doing dinner next week?” She has some announcement she wants to tell us.

  “As long as you aren’t telling us you’re getting married next.” I can’t handle another one.

  “Mason?” Hell no. She thinks I’m jealous.

  “Not because I’m in love with you like that. Gross. But, fuck— we’ve had enough changes. Let’s let things ride for a bit.” She punches me in the chest, and I ruffle her hair.

  “I’m not gross.” Her nose scrunches as she acts like a huffy child.

  “Nah, you aren’t. So I was shocked Brecklynn is Brody’s sister.” I’m trying to be cool and throw it in there. She stops dancing and glares at me.

  “Don’t do it.” I smirk.

  “Easy killer. I met her during her tour.” It isn’t a lie. I just don’t add in that I’ve seen her the last few weeks, and I’m hoping to take her home with me tonight.

  “Really?” She’s fishing. She can read me, and I need to cover until Brecklynn is ready.

  “Yeah. Some shit Coach made us do. Well, not Deacon because apparently he’s responsible.” I roll my eyes— if you can’t beat’ em join’ em.

  “Taking care of a kid tends to do that,” she teases.

  “But somehow getting the girl pregnant falls by the wayside.” We laugh. Deacon being a father isn’t conventional, but we can’t imagine it any other way.

  “Shit.” I look to see what has her jumpy. It’s her dad. Time for me to bow-out.

  “You good?” I won’t leave if she doesn’t want me to, but I’m not comfortable getting in the middle of something when I don’t know the details.

  “I got this. Go.” So I haul ass to find Brecklynn.

  She’s standing to the side of the dance floor. I scan the room, and nobody is paying attention to us. My hands grip her waist, and my lips find her ear. “Ready to be in my bed?” I drop a few kisses down her neck.

  Her body leans into me, and I don’t miss the shiver coursing down her body. “Yeah.” Insecurity or desire masks her voice; I can’t identify which it is.

  “Nothing you don’t want to do. Brecklynn I swear, you set the pace.” I can learn what’s going through her head when we don’t have a room full of busy bodies.

  She dislodges our bodies and steps back. “See you later.” Her teasing tone makes me hard as steel. I plan to see every glorious inch of her— tonight.

  Her hips sashay as she joins everyone standing at the edge of the dance floor, and I’m biding my time until I can follow her. This keeping secrets thing is bullshit. I’m hoping to convince her tonight, and I’m a man of many talents so the odds are in my favor. Or hers with the copious orgasms I’m planning for her.

  I bypass our parents’ table and stop for a few minutes to listen to them reminisce about their glory days— every kid’s dream. They act like they’re so grown up, but if they could hear themselves. No wonder all the kids stuck together like glue— strength in numbers.

  Slapping Saylor on her ass when I get close draws a growl from Deacon. I do shit to rile him up. Cheap entertainment. Brecklynn eyes me from the corner and shoots a wink.

  “Let’s hit the floor, ladies.” She shoves the girls to the dance floor, leaving us standing there staring at the sidelines.

  Skirts hiked, shoes kicked to the wayside, and the hips start moving to ‘The Wobble.’ Everyone but Caden is checking their asses out and eyeing their tits bouncing, which spurs them to get dirty and work what they have. And, I, as a red-blooded male, can attest they do have it.

  Of course Deacon caves. He picks Saylor up and takes
the beating everyone gives him. Brody moves in stealth-like, but his hands claim Lee Lee and make his position as her man known.

  “Holy shit, both of you are a disgrace to the dick race.” I’m disgusted. We’re all friends here, and they can’t wait to stake their claim.

  “Why are you so worried where everyone else is sticking his dick?” Brecklynn asks as she shimmies to the floor making it very hard— pun intended— to keep my hands to myself.

  “Because his is so small he has to focus on everybody else’s.” Leave it to Shortstop to chime in where my dick is concerned.

  “That’s not what the girls say. Isn’t that right, Lee Lee?” Fuck. Wrong thing. It slipped, and I meant it as a joke, but one particular person isn’t thrilled with my poor choice of words.

  My crew, including Lee Lee, laughs. Brody kills me with his glare, and his fists ball in rage. Brecklynn’s eyes narrow, creasing her forehead, and she’s staring at all of us.

  “Can’t wait to get your ass back in the weight room,” Brody snarls, storming off to the bar.

  “Fuck, Lee Lee. I didn’t mean it.” I pull her to my side, hoping she doesn’t start crying. I hate when she cries.

  “It’s fine. It was a joke, and if he can’t handle it, I need to know. Don’t worry.” She hugs me quickly and storms off to her pride-injured man.

  “Why’s he pissed?” Brecklynn stops Lee Lee, and I have to avert my gaze.

  Secrets. Too many fucking secrets.

  “History.” Emberlee throws her answer as she’s in a hurry to chew Brody’s ass.

  Those gem-colored orbs widen, and she sputters as she steps back. “You slept with him.”

  “I’ll explain later,” Lee Lee pleads. Brecklynn storms off, but not before pain and confusion spread across her face. “This is going fucking great.” Emberlee wrings her hands torn with whom to console first.

  “I’ll fix it, Lee Lee.” I head to the bar to knock Brody to his ass.

  “No, Mace. I’ll handle him. You didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong. We weren’t together.” She waves her hands in the air, and I watch her retreat to douse the flames I fueled.

  I seek Brecklynn out and find her in the hall outside the bathroom. “I can’t believe you.” Her anger is a bit much considering she won’t tell a soul we are whatever we are.

  “It was a long time ago, and we had an arrangement.” I cringe at the way that sounds.

  “Sleazy.” My anger snaps.

  “No, and you have no right to judge. We’re best friends who happened to fuck a few times. You’ve never bothered to ask me about my past. Hell you’ve never asked me anything substantial. So when was I supposed to slip that fact in? One that doesn’t matter.” I’m breathing fire in her space. “That girl loves your brother and vice versa. It was a dumb comment, and that should show you how little it matters. Kind of like your opinion of Lee Lee and me— you’ve made it evident we don’t matter much and you’ll think the worst.” I’m leaving. She can fucking stew in her unwarranted bias and butt-hurt feelings.

  The door handle cuts into my skin with how tight my grip is, and I need to hit something. Maybe I’ll head to the gym and see if I can pound a few bags. “I’m sorry.” Her voice stops me. Footsteps echo as she eats up the floor, rushing to me. “I’m sorry. I have no right to judge, and it doesn’t matter who you slept with. Who Lee Lee slept with. Using your past isn’t fair when you’ve done nothing but make me a priority.” Her hands press into my back, and I feel the imprint of each finger. “I’m sorry.”

  Spinning fast, I catch her off-guard, taking her lips and sealing them to mine. My teeth nibble, and my tongue seeks hers. I inhale her scent, and my hands snake down to grip her ass and pull her tight to me. Her mewls and gyrating against my hip feeds my hunger, and I devour her mouth, not giving a shit who sees us. “Next time you apologize, do it like that. It’s more my language,” I utter as I pull back from her mouth.

  “I see myself picking many, many fights.” She smiles and kisses my neck. “How long do we need to stay?” She soothes her hands down my stomach, over my bulging cock.

  “Not too much longer,” I promise. “Let’s go back in.” Her pout causes me to take those sinful lips again and imagine them wrapped around my dick, which I’m hoping for— soon.

  Mind blown. It’s just sex. I keep telling myself this, so maybe I’ll believe it.

  Unless I discover he was sleeping with my mom— I’m determined to do sinful things with him. Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as it lasts. Something draws me to him. It could be our personalities, the fact I’m free with him. No bullshit. He doesn’t try to stifle me; he doesn’t berate me when I speak my mind.

  He doesn’t create a box he expects me to fit in. He widens the space and encourages me to explore. It’s refreshing, and I know it’ll be short-lived, so I’m determined to enjoy it as long as I can. School will start, and the ball bunnies will come running.

  Pushing to Emberlee, I give her a hug and notice my brother is absent. He’ll regret that mistake. The dancing is still in full force, and as ‘Blurred Lines’ plays, we start doing the electric slide, and all their parents join us. The laughter, the smiles, and the love— it’s something you can’t help but be drawn into. I hold my sides in laughter as Mason and Caden molest the mothers, and the dads do a piss poor job of imitating Elvis.

  Mason leans over and has a conversation with Caden and motions me to the door. I slip by unnoticed and he’s hot on my heels. “Last chance.” He warns. Yes, warns because he knows as well as I do if we leave together, I’m going to be powerless to stop him from doing what he wants . . . what I want . . . to my body. To me. But not my heart. I can’t allow it to become involved.

  “Let’s go.” I steel my voice so it doesn’t betray the insecurity I’m feeling. No fear. He doesn’t brew fright in me, but he’s this god. Everyone around campus talks. He’s cocky. He’s confident. He has every reason to be— and he’s taking me home.

  Is it for one night?

  Is it one time?

  Is there a way to ask without feeling like an adolescent schoolgirl?

  His hand slips into mine. Fingers interlocked. I send a message to my heart— stay neutral. The warmth of his skin awakens mine, the slight pressure he exudes squeezing my hand exhilarates my body and calms my nerves.

  Once I’m settled in his truck, and he’s heading to his house, I kick off the heels and sigh in relief. “Better?” The deep baritone of his voice settles over me and kicks the anticipation up a level.

  “Yes.” I wiggle my toes to drive the point home. I love heels. They hate me. I wear them. They punish me.

  “It’s gonna get so much better.” His promise pings every nerve in my body. I’m tempted to climb over, straddle him, and speed this along before we’re in the confines of his house. I restrain myself and concentrate, marking the familiar landmarks on the drive. I’m counting down the moments until Mason Adler gives me all there is of him.

  From his strength to his cockiness, he sets the tone that it’ll be one hell of a ride . . .

  His fingers skim my thigh and dance up my leg, taking my dress with them. The slight touch, his heat, the promise, all force a shiver down my spine and my breath to halt as I squirm in the seat. I hear his hiss as he flexes his hand and continues his journey until he’s brushing the lace sides of my panties.

  The rough calluses mixed with delicate force dance across my skin causing a visceral reaction that floods my core. Fuck, if he doesn’t hurry I’m going to combust.

  My head falls back, “Mason,” I groan.

  “Jesus.” He growls and removes his hand. The loss is enormous, and I want to weep with how one touch can do this. I chance a look at him and know he feels the same. Sweat is beading on his temples, and his hand is clenched by his side. “Doll, this isn’t going to be soft and sweet. I’ll make it up next round.” He pulls in the driveway, slams the gear to park, and hauls me across the seat, lifting me from his door. He doesn’t put me down
until we’re in his room. The door slams, and our breathing hitches.

  Hearts pounding.

  Fingers and mouths ravenous.

  As he takes my mouth, the spark ignites. It’s the same as it was earlier in the night. Our first kiss. Wild, tongues dueling, teeth nipping, and I can’t get enough. He pulls back and covers my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. He’s everywhere at once, and none of those places are where I want him. The straps of my dress slide off my shoulders, guided by his hands. His mouth follows, his tongue leaving a trail of where he’s been and where he’s going. I unbutton his shirt, and after the third little plastic bitch refuses to comply, I rip. Pinging sounds surround us as they fly and bounce off walls and the floor, but I’m greedy.

  His shaking body alerts me to his chuckle. “You gonna sew those back?”

  “Do I look like Holly Homemaker to you?” I study his face. “But, I do know where the mall is, so you’re safe.” I graze his torso. His abdominal muscles contract, and I smile. “Although, this look works for you.” My lips cover his nipple; my hands work his belt and pants.

  Our clothes are shed, and my back hits the bed. He’s towering over me, palming his hard cock, licking his lips and devouring me with his eyes. His knees hit the floor, and my legs are thrown over his massive shoulders as his mouth skims the inside of my thighs. “Don’t move.” I halt. His voice, the tone, the promise of what’s to come makes me obey. His tongue traces the curve of my thigh to my core. A timid swipe of his tongue forces my hips to buck. “Brecklynn, don’t move or I’ll quit.” Hell no. I grip the sheets, plant my ass against the bed, and hold the fuck on.

  I’m rewarded by a hard lick, suckling of my clit between those glorious lips, and spearing of his tongue inside me. “Mmmmm.” The vibration against my pussy is testing my will to stay immobile, but I manage. “Eyes.” I give them to him.

  His are dark, ominous, and hooded. I watch his tongue swipe, feel the heat, and see the mischief sparkle. My hands grip his hair, foregoing the sheets, and hold him to me. I’ve never felt this, never experienced this intimate act, and I can’t be sorry if it’s with a guy who isn’t planning to be my future. It’s perfect, as he’s the one who’s kept me dancing and wondering the last few weeks. He’s the one I’ve dreamed of, and he’s the one able to make me lose myself and forget.