Free Out of the Blues by Mercy Celeste Page B

throb in my jeans. I let him see me like this. I wanted him to know I wouldn’t hurt him, and I wanted him to hurt me. “The condom lubricated?”
    He seemed stunned. He shrugged. He didn’t pull it out to look. “There’s a bottle of oil in the kitchen,” he suggested. I’d seen it. I’d used Crisco before. Whatever it took. Didn’t think Mason would go in for spit roasting me.
    “Get it.” I nodded toward the kitchen. “Bring back another one of those piss beers.” Because when this was over, I was going to drink every last one of them.

Chapter Ten
     
    Mason gets a grip on the situation.
    What the fucking hell was I thinking? I stood in the kitchen holding the half-empty bottle of vegetable oil. Was I seriously thinking about…holy fuck? Did vegetable oil degrade condoms like…holy fuck…I was about to fuck a dude. Not just any dude but a Marine who was built like a brick wall. With pretty eyes. My sister’s future brother-in-law.
    I was fucking hard in my jeans.
    When the fuck did I decide fucking a dude was on my list of turn-ons?
    Oh but his tattoos. I wanted to see them all. I wanted to lick them, I wanted to…holy fuck.
    I couldn’t do this.
    Wind and rain pelted the house. Lightning streaked across the windows, illuminating the back yard for a brief second. Rain was coming down hard now. I didn’t know it was going to rain when I decided I wanted to see the house. I didn’t know we’d be here when the storm broke.
    I did not want to try to drive the twelve or so miles back to the hotel in this mess.
    I couldn’t catch my breath and my dick wasn’t interested in my freak-out when sex was on the table.
    Well, on the sofa.
    Spread out all over the sofa with his hands over his head and those hard thighs and his mouth…with Cody’s best getting laid record playing on the console.
    Since fucking when did I have a thing for Marines? Holy fuck.
    I stopped at the fridge and grabbed one of the last three beers. I popped the top off and drained the bottle.
    Fuck, that was nasty.
    I got the last two bottles and popped the lids off. Armed with old beer and old oil I walked back to the living room with hopes that Kilby had come to his senses and wasn’t…exactly where I left him: arms still on the back of the seat like I was pinning him there, his legs slightly spread as he sprawled waiting for me and watching the light swing from the ceiling.
    My dick wanted out. It wanted out now.
    When the fuck had my dick become sentient?
    “Take your shirt off,” I heard myself say. Maybe I wanted to see what he would do if I got bossy. I could be very bossy. Never during sex, I was never bossy during sex. I usually left that to the girl. I usually let her guide me where she wanted me to be.
    Maybe that’s why I didn’t get laid all that often. Maybe if I’d been the type to tell Glory exactly how much I wanted to lick her cunt then I’d have been the one she…he sat up on the sofa and pulled his shirt over his head and then went right back into the position I’d left him in. Except now he was looking at me and the bottles…I could see the outline of his dick in this jeans. It protruded from the waist band of his jeans and I forgot all about Glory and girls of any kind as my knees went weak.
    What would he taste like?
    He was tanned under his tats, his body hard packed in every way. He had rippling abs and a…and…holy fuck he was perfect. And he wanted me to fuck him.
    “Are you going to stare at me all night?” he said quietly, and I jumped out of my skin.
    “No, yes, I think I have a tattoo fetish that I wasn’t previously aware of,” I told him as I took the first step toward him. I was drawn to him. I couldn’t deny this anymore. Even before he’d sucked my brain out of my dick, I’d been mesmerized by him and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.
    “No, I have a tattoo fetish.” He smiled that smile that lit up his whole face. Did he not know what smiling did to his eyes? “You just